#There’s so many directions I could go with it

[miange1]

I WANNA TALK TO YOU✷

owners dish. . . : ceo x male reader

side dishes. . . : jealous boss, toy uses, unprofessional themes, overstimulation, sir kink, punishments, semi public sex, vouyer(?) kink, slight spanking(on the thigh), bondage, barely any plot, one sided angry sex, complicated relationships

owners note. . . : i never proofread. miangel hate needs to stop🫩. more sugar daddy fics soon

ceo, who has a very interesting relationship with you. he was very adamant about keeping everything perfect and professional, even the hairs on your chin. he was sure to be an annoyance, especially since half of it was certainly directed to you no matter what you did. he would tell you to fix your tie, your hair, your shoes, slacks, face? everything.

ceo, knew he had you frustrated but it was his habit of straightening you up and pointing out everything because he couldn't say a normal conversation. unless normal conversations were bending you over his desk, spreading your legs wide in front of the buildings large windows, or having you suck his dick in the archive room. sure, all he could truly do was annoy you.

ceo, who had made the first mistake of his entire career. he never made mistakes until this, not ever. but hiring that man— that boy who was a disgrace to breathing the air you did? he would never make a mistake like that again. the constant side touches, the leers he'd give you each time you walked past him and his eyes would gaze down. constantly finding excuses to stay close to you. how could you not notice?

ceo, who truly had no issue if you didn't notice. he would simply make you notice and the problem would be solved. his fingers quickly typed along the keyboard, papers swishing, his shoes tapping against the marble tiled floor. the lovely sound of the nights birds tweeting, the printer shuffling, and the low hum of vibrators.

ceo, had you perched up on his desk like some cheap whore. your legs were tied with rope, forced to bend and have you sit on your heels. your arms were tied behind you, two toys connected to your body. he had taped the vibrator to your leaking cock, watching it move from aching so. the other was shoved up your hole, bigger than you usually handled. you hadn't known what you did, he never punished you without a reason, you didn't understand!

ceo, who slapped your thigh a different shade when you answered wrong. oh, he wanted you to guess what you did because he believed you did it on purpose. "p–please sir, im sorry.." his hand rested on your thigh, not even turning his head towards you. "for?" you shook your head, sniffling. "for upsetting you.." "and how did you upset me?" you squirmed, a whine cracking out of your throat. "i don't know!" a harsh thwak to your thigh had shut you up. it was a message. wrong answer, try again.

ceo, let you go after you had cum god knows how many times. two..three? five? you were crying, eyes too blurry to even see much at all. "sir please.." you had to beg, beg him for him to even consider listening. "im sorry, i didn't mean to." didn't mean to what? fuck, you still didn't know. he let the toys turn off, roughly untying those forsaken ropes that dug into your soft skin. "be here early tomorrow. no excuses.

ceo, who made sure you never saw that guy again.

[ghostwitchboy]

So great that you're able to see light and sunshine coming out the world's ass for you. I've been actively fighting my depression for over a decade and have done everything I can to not succumb and guess what, everything good, even the little things, are still being ripped away from me systematically.

I was making progress. I was able to eat food without feeling sick for days. I was able to sleep normally. Some days were bad still but I could do things most of the time. I was back in school. Sure, things were rough, like my work study job was constantly cutting my hours till I could only afford the gas to get to school and not much else, let alone not being able to save, and I finally managed to leave my abusive relationship with someone who drained me dry emotionally, financially and in so many other ways and just so many things in my desperate escape from them. But I had support of friends and my granparents, who knew all of the trials and Horrors I've been through, the abuse by both partners and parents, the homelessness caused by both, the chronic illnesses I've never been able to look into because I've been too poor and to sick to try without insurance or travel.

So things were getting better in small ways, right? Ignore the news, finding out every day more of my rights are being stripped away, do my best to document the Nazi and fascist things going on in my government without being depressed about it, ignore the multiple genocides whenever it becomes to much to handle, resist by surviving and being happy when I'm too ill to go to protests and too broke to donate to relief funds, right? As long as these small good things keep happening, there's reason to have hope right?

And then my granparents told me they were done with me and once again I'm having to face homelessness with no net. My civil rights are being repealed and my identity erased by the fascists in power while I look at the requirements I don't meet to receive aid from homeless shelters and services because I wasn't fired from a job, I was a student who chose not to take summer classes and I'm not actively looking for one anymore because while I could spend hundreds of hours applying to jobs that don't actually exist, even if they did exist, they won't even give me an interview because my application is tossed out the minute their filters catch that I don't check mark the boxes saying I'm able and willing to stand for 8+ hours and carry heavy loads (I know because I did that for nearly a year before saying fuck it go back to school), therefore have control over my employment and and I'm disqualified from most aid. Or they require Medicaid, which I filed for back in November nearly a year ago and "Oh, you know they're just a mess right now, be patient", but since I don't have it in also disqualified from aid. And I never had the money to get full proper ADHD or ASD diagnoses and even when I got partially diagnosed in hs, my parents did everything they could to suppress it so The Family looked good, so I can't adult for federal disability, which also won't even spit in my directive because I was able to hold a semblance of a job or schooling in the past 5 years and routinely uses fake or dead jobs to justify denying people who've been applying for years. I have no car and can't get one because I have no money (literally only have$150ish left) and banks don't give loans to jobless homeless people with no equity. Every friend who cares about my wellbeing is living with their parents and living paycheck to paycheck and I cannot be a burden on them.

So not only is every big thing going wrong, but so is every little thing. And a half-spoken-word poetry piece of a song written by a fed and housed white man from Scotland four years ago telling me to get out of bed bc "beds are for sleeping and masturbating, and you've had about as much as the human body can take of either of those things" isn't going to magically make my bones not ache and space appear for me to exist in without fear or having to let go of every material possession I have because the gods know people hate the concept of someone who's homeless holding onto the belongings they've collected over their lifetime because that's too much dignity for that station of life to be allowed. No amount of jaunty "dah dah dah"s are gonna magically make every day worth living when every year, nearly every month or week now, things are getting worse and I'm more likely to be murdered for being trans than to ever own even an apartment at this point.

So fuck right off with your, "You're just in your early 20s, not everyone younger than 40 is hopeless, just look at the bugs, it'll be okay! :D" bullshit. I've tried that.

And now I'm running late for packing up my belongings, because the only good news I've had recently is that a friend was able to convince her mom to let me store some of my life in her attic and I'm working on a tight schedule to pack it up despite my aching joints and sore muscles and severe hopelessness because I'm goingto be 27 in a week and I'm still in the same place, still without a home, and people are more intent to ignore everything than to fucking do something about it for those of us who aren't as lucky.

[impishjesters]

Busting at the seams

CW; You get assaulted by buttons... it'll make sense in a minute... A/N: I wrote this on my phone in my notes app so there's 100% typos and grammer issues sorrynotsorry, this was a complete spur of the moment idea based on a screenshot I have of Abby and his ridiculously tight looking pants. We get it you have a nice ass but wear pants that don't look like they're cutting off circulation, baby. Also trying to format shit on mobile is a bitch. But a moot of mine loves Abby, so this is dedicated to you bby. 😘

“Abby, your ass is going to bust the seam of those pants…”

Abby’s grin briefly falters at your comment, he crosses his arms and you could hear the thread straining from his top. “Sorry babe, can’t hear you over my muscles.”

“You mean the straining of your shirt?” You murmur, unamused.

He frowns and opens his mouth to reply when the sound of fabric slowly tearing cuts him off. The two of you share a look, yours silently saying ‘I told you so’.

The tearing stops and Abby slowly uncrosses his arms, trying to find the source of the ripping sound. Curiosity peaked, you foolishly step closer to help look when there’s another snap. A button from his shirt pops off and launches straight at your face. You let out a scream, barely able to cover your face in time before it hits your hands with a loud thwap against your skin.

You hiss out several curses and Abby reaches out to check on you when another button snaps off. The button shoots off and smacks you straight in the cheek just barely missing your eye.

An unflattering noise leaves you at the impact and its Abby’s turn to yell. “Shit! Are you okay—”

Another button shoots off his shirt and flies in your direction. It smacks against you but avoids your face thankfully.

Abby cringes, his cheeks flushing ever so faintly in embarrassment. “Are you—”

“How many fucking buttons do you have?!” You shout just as another button shoots out, this time with less force as it hits the floor by your feet.

Abby throws his hands up in embarrassment, trying to relax his muscles as if it would help. “Fuck, baby I’m so sorry.”

There’s another loud rip of fabric and the two of you freeze, your hands quickly covering your face from an attack that doesn’t come. Hesitantly, you peek from behind your hands and look at him, his eyes meet yours and the two of you look at the last button somehow remaining on his shirt.

“What… what was that?” You ask cautiously.

Abby’s expression is just as confused as yours until realization hits him. His face quickly goes red, putting his hair to shame as he processes what tore. “H-hey! Let’s stop talking.” He laughs nervously, his posture turning stiff.

You squint at him in disbelief, lowering your hands back to your sides. “Abby. What. Tore?” His eye twitches at your tone but he remains unwavering.

“One…”

He says your name with a scoff and crosses his arms. “I’m not a child.” A look of what he can only describe as a disappointed parent covers your face.

“One and a half…”

A nearby door opens, footsteps slowly making their way closer to the two of you. Abby’s attention shifts to the sudden foot steps approaching from behind him.

“Two…”

Abby turns his attention back to you, the look of disappointment only growing the longer he remains silent. The footsteps stop outside the door, a click of the handle as a familiar face enters.

“Hey, abs for brain, Jinu needs…” Baby pauses, hand on the door knob as he takes in the scene before him. Buttons on the floor, a bruise starting to form on your cheek and most importantly, Abby’s embarrassed expression and your disappointed look.

Baby’s eyes immediately lock onto Abby’s back, his face curling up in something akin to disgust. “Why is your ah—”

“Ahh!!” Abby screams, startling both you and Baby at the sudden volume. He throws his arms up as if it would help his distraction. Snap, the last button on his shirt pops off and not expecting another incident it shoots forward at your now exposed face and hits you in the forehead.

Abby lets out a surprised yell and curses under his breath at the damn buttons. Meanwhile, Baby remains at the door witnessing the whole thing with a look of intense confusion.

You cradle your forehead with a hiss and crouch to the ground, your boyfriend moving to reach out and help you. “Why is your ass out?” Baby cuts in, almost disgusted at the words leaving his mouth. Abby freezes, halfway bent forward to help you up.

“What?” You rub your forehead and look at Baby.

Baby draws a vertical line in the air and mimics the sound of ripping fabric, gesturing at Abby’s backside.

A laugh befitting a hyena leaves you as the pieces click together. “I fucking told you! Your ass busted the seam of your pants!” You cackle harder as his face turns redder.

Baby gives Abby a look of disgust. “Jinu wants us all to meet in the living room…” He turns away, having delivered the message and leaves without waiting for a response.

Abby spins around, trying to stop Baby from telling the others what he just saw and you see it. The large rip on his ass, exposing his underwear underneath.

Seeing his underwear you let out another holler of laughter, any tension completely lost in your posture as you slump onto your butt. You don’t even notice Abby rushing after Baby, frantically trying to pull the smaller man back kicking and yelling into the room.

“So about those pants…” You smirk, watching Abby carrying Baby like a wet cat.

“Shut. Up.” He quickly replies through gritted teeth, grinning despite his embarrassment.

[utopeian]

be sweet to me

SUMMARY Bob notices that you're painfully shy to initiate physical touch and takes matters into his own hands. Literally.

PAIRING bob reynolds x gender neutral!reader

GENRE fluff, slight humor, established relationship

WORD COUNT 1.7k

WARNINGS a lot of oh's, reader is a working civilian, bob & reader's relationship is fairly fresh, no Y/N mention

AUTHOR’S NOTE requested! i listened to japanese breakfast's be sweet on loop while writing this, enjoy!

The city’s usual hustle and bustle has died down a little considering it was the middle of the afternoon, the sky was bluer and brighter and clearer than usual, soft music murmuring from the cafe’s hidden speakers. Or maybe it was because you were with Bob that everything happened to feel a little lighter.

You’re in disbelief that a man has made you think and feel this way.

You were in the middle of a discussion with Bob about the new book he picked up when your phone vibrates on the table. You shut your eyelids just to roll your eyes under them and redirected your focus back on Bob.

However, he also got distracted and pointed out, “aren’t you going to check that?”

You are, but you knew once you confirmed it was a message from your job, you’d have to burst the comfortable bubble you were sharing with your boyfriend. The title still felt incredibly new, in the awkward, squeaky clean way. In the way that makes you tiptoe around it to make sure the dirt from your shoes don’t soil the shiny ground.

“I— yeah, I probably should.” You sigh, getting the inevitable over and done with.

You see that the notification was, in fact, from your co-worker. Something about needing you to come in at the last minute, revoking your day-off privilege with a promise of giving it back some other time instead. Yeah right.

You grumble to yourself— or so you thought, not used to having a partner with heightened hearing— before putting your phone face down with a little more force than necessary, “I can’t believe I thought I could ever get a day away from work.”

(Bob doesn’t know if it’s acceptable to admit that he finds your annoyance attractive.)

It’s not that you found it difficult or that your co-workers gave you a hard time, but rather it gets tedious and boring at times. Sitting in front of a screen waiting for clients to get back to you regarding revisions and cramming them because it was their fault they didn’t email back right away didn’t sound so appealing right now. You didn’t really have the liberty of choice, though. So much for living in New York.

“Bob, I’m so sorry to end our date here, but I’m being summoned to work.” You sadly tell him. The hand you rest on top of your phone itches to reach over and hold his own that cradles his drink, but you manage to will it otherwise; it takes your whole being not to touch him. Too soon, you think to yourself, don’t scare him away.

He noticed the way your fingers shifted slightly towards his direction, eager to finally feel your hands intertwine. Keeping his eyes on your regretful expression instead, he waits for you.

Your hand never found his.

Bob slumps in his seat out of disappointment due to two things now. But living with a bunch of retired assassins forced into public duty has desensitized him from taking conversations cut short too personally.

He shakes his head to recover, a reassuring smile now resting on his lips. “Don’t apologize, I get it. The others also have times when they need to leave abruptly in the middle of conversations.” 

You’re sure he didn’t mean to, but now you just feel like more of an asshole. As you sluggishly start doublechecking your things, you ask him something out of curiosity. “Do you ever join them?”

He thinks about it a little, trying to see if there have been instances that he tags along because he was also summoned with them. “Hmm. No, not often. Too many risks involved.”

Half of your attention was towards fixing your bag but you manage to nod thoughtfully, listening as he vaguely recalls a time he actually joined The New Avengers to an important meeting, not wanting him to expound further if he wasn’t comfortable.

Before you had gotten together officially, when he knew he could trust you more than the level of friends, Bob had forced himself to open up a conversation with you about everything: his fucked up past, how he landed in Malaysia, and the time he had lost control of his strength and engulfed almost the entirety of the city in darkness.

You heard it all. And you decided to stay.

(If you put it that bluntly, it doesn’t exactly sound… romantic. There were obviously more nuances you considered before dating him.)

You lift your head up to see Bob already looking at you patiently and attentively, both his hands still on the paper to-go cup. You give him a little nod to indicate that you’re good to go if he is. He acknowledges it, standing first to be by your side before you get up. Cute.

Bob throws the empty cups in the garbage bin beside the receiving area; you hadn’t even noticed that he also grabbed your trash.

The barista by the counter says ‘come back soon!’ as the two of you exit, the little chimes above the glass door clinking to announce your departure from the cafe. The two of you walk a minor distance to stand outside by the glass display, not wanting to cover the doorway.

Your thumb slides under the handle of your bag, pretending to readjust it on your shoulder because you don’t know what to do with your hands yet, still painfully hesitant to reach for Bob’s. You peer up at him shyly. “Um, this is where we part ways, I suppose.”

He blinks at you owlishly, your concern only grows when he says a single syllable defeatedly.

“Oh…”

You blink back at him. Anyone intently watching your interaction from a distance might think you were communicating through morse code. “‘Oh’? What, ‘oh’?”

Bob fiddles with the sleeve of his soft sweater, eyes looking away from yours every few seconds. He can feel his face getting warmer and he’s sure you can physically see it.

“I, uh, wanted to walk you to work to… make sure you get there safely. I–If that’s alright with you, of course.”

Oh.

You’re stunned. You know it’s the bare minimum, but you can’t help but be surprised that anyone ever thinks to be a decent person nowadays. The rise of assholes, you suppose. “No, yeah. That’d be perfect, Bob. Thank you.”

He waves you off then stops his hand out right in front of you. Again, what is it with this man just being an annoyingly perfect gentleman? You felt the blood in your veins freeze, thinking he was going to ask for your hand, before he offered, “I can hold your bag.”

Your mistake for thinking he wanted to hold your hand, too! Whatever. You put your harmless bitterness aside to thank him again and give him your handbag, keychains rattling at the motion. Bob looks for the source of the noise, eyes lighting up once he sees the charms hanging on the side of your bag’s buckle.

You start walking towards the direction of your work building as he follows, cradling your purse cautiously in his arms to inspect your decorations and points one out. His finger taps on a sun-shaped charm inspired by the opacity of suncatchers.

“I like this one.”

Your eyes move from the street in front of you to what he was looking at.

…Oh.

“Me too, it’s my favorite,” you share, yet you’re reluctant to verbalize what you want to admit to him. Fuck it.

“I actually bought it ‘cause it reminded me of you.”

Your pace picks up nervously as your eyes immediately fleet anywhere except for the presence to your right; at a rat making its way down the subway stairs, strangers haphazardly crossing the road, a distant digital billboard blinking colorful images out.

Too frantic at the idea of Bob being weirded out at your confession, you don’t realize that he had finally shouldered your bag to reach out for your hand. The moment his palm slides into yours, your whole body is electrified. You love it.

You jolt to look over at him, a shy grin on his face, clearly pleased with your reaction. You realize that he had noticed your reservations and took matters into his own hands. Literally. You mirror his expression in double the glee.

From that moment to when you finally arrive in front your office, your hands never once detached from the other.

“This is where we part ways, I suppose.” You smile at him cheekily, parroting what you had told him earlier. 

Bob gives you your handbag; you almost forgot about it. His face hurts from smiling. Your moods are contagious. “For real this time, then.”

“Yeah…”

You really don’t want to go and Bob really doesn’t want to leave. But duty calls and bills and dates and gifts won’t pay for themselves. This time, you’re the one to take the step forward first, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

The way you bring him into the embrace is rigid at first but once you feel his body reciprocate, you melt together perfectly. You can’t believe you were nervous to hug Bob.

Pulling away seems like a foreign concept to you, so he does it for you, knowing your work desk awaits your arrival. He didn’t know he was capable of grinning this widely, laughing at your playful pouting.

He thinks you’re about to bid him a verbal farewell when you take another step closer, placing a delicate lip gloss-coated kiss on his cheek. He feels the same exact electricity you had felt minutes ago. You whisper when you pull away, gazing meekly into his affectionful eyes. “Thank you for today, Bob. I really enjoyed it, even if it was cut short.”

“Thank you too, I also had fun.”

You just look at each other, rocking your feet. After a moment of sweet silence, you finally point at your building with your thumb along with an exaggerated look of disgust playing on your features, sighing dramatically to get a laugh out of him. You think his laugh is cute.

Unwillingly, you turn your back on him to move forward, only to turn around a millisecond after. Bob’s still there, looking at you so lovestuck, hand awkwardly raising to wave. You giggle, finally taking your eyes off him and walking into reality.

Damn, you’re in deep.

[m3mento-m0rii]

hello !! I have a request for Mystery Saja (if that’s okay). I was thinking that when the Saja boys first came to the human world, Mystery would be the one having the hardest time. All of the lights and loud noises prolly getting to the poor fella. And the other Saja boys try to help but it’s really no use.

Until the bright happy-go-lucky sunshine reader comes around and helps Mystery out.(Yk how Myst barked at that fan at the signing ? Yeah that wasn’t the first or the last time he barked at a person he just doesn’t know what else to do) The reader is kind of oblivious but just super nice and empathetic. Mystery needs so love hardcore </3 I can just imagine the rest of the Saja boys I’m shocked that some human girl tamed the beast into some house let

(this request is optional ofc take care !!!)

New Soul—

1.5k words; Mystery Saja x reader Masterlist | Requests open!

It's hard for Mystery to handle being in the daylight again when he's spent so much time accepting the dark. Lucky for him, some merciful being gave him you.

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting, anon! Okay so I tried my best with this but I struggled a little after I got through the first half. Still, I hope you enjoy it. Happy reading!

. . .

Honestly, earth was more hell than the underworld was.

That was something it didn’t take long for Mystery to decide when he and the Saja Boys first surfaced. It was night time. Okay, that was fine. The sky was cloudy, the coolness of the air was foreign to him.

But the light. How could humans enjoy the obnoxious LEDs decorating store fronts? It hurt his eyes, and he immediately tried to avert them. The only problem? Seoul was full of them. 

Which is how he ended up with Jinu’s pink-tinted sunglasses, staring dead at the side-walk, being guided down the street by the other Saja Boys.

They honestly didn’t know what to do. They were just as new as he was, but . . . they didn’t suffer from it the way Mystery did. They tried to help as best as they could, taking quieter paths as Jinu navigated to their dorms, though there was only so much they could do. They didn’t have the proper resources to handle it, but they tried their best.

Mystery couldn’t wait to go to sleep.

Except that was the LAST thing he should have wished for. Because now he had to deal with the sunlight, and he couldn’t tell which was worse; the harsh lights of nighttime Seoul or the colors that came with daylight. He couldn’t even stare at the sidewalk, because the reflection of the sunlight upon it made him flinch.

Already starting off, it was a no good, very bad day.

Then he lost the other Saja Boys in the crowd. Too much was going on. They were supposed to be performing Soda Pop today.

What immaculate timing.

As Mystery attempted to remember the directions Jinu was giving, more and more things started to phase him.

The sun is bright. People are everywhere, people are talking. He can’t make out what anyone is saying. A car honks as it turns the corner he was about to reach. There’s a bell on the door of the shop next to him. It’s playing some horrific, beat up jingle. Footsteps. He stops, because he can’t think. 

Mystery can’t recognize his surroundings. All the palettes were oversaturated and it made his brain throb. This is purgatory. He’s sorry for what he did to deserve this. He could smell too many different scents at a time. Gimbap. Some woman’s artificially sugary perfume. The stench of a teenage boy who hadn’t discovered deodorant yet. Dizzying. Nauseating.

The last straw was some rando pushing him out of the way.

“Hey! Weirdo, this is the sidewalk. Get stepping or move!”

Mystery snapped.

It was the only thing he could do.

“RARGH ARGH ARGRR—” He barked, his nose scrunching up as he faced the rude individual. Molars gnashing, muscles tight, nails digging into his palms. Everyone in the immediate vicinity stopped.

To stare at him.

“What is he doing?”

“Did . . . did he just bark?”

“What the hell are they putting in the water these days . . .”

“He needs help.”

At least they weren’t in his personal space anymore.

Mystery slinked into the shadows of a nearby alley, dropping to the ground once he was out of view. He took a long, slow breath as his head lolled to the side, trying to adjust his hair to hide the sunlight again.

It’s too much.

He feels the energy shift around him slightly, and he tenses up. Slowly, his head raises from his knees to find more color.

Not bright, eye-catching, abundant color; soft. Effective. Something more tolerable than that tacky sherbet ensemble he saw a moment ago.

Your smile was just as kind to him as your dress. Gentle, welcoming, unaware of the horrors in the world, or rather immune to it. You crouched in front of him, observing him for a moment.

“Hey . . .” you whispered, and Mystery easily decided he liked your voice. It was . . . soothing. You could tell he was a bit overstimulated. “Are you okay?”

Mystery blinked, even if you couldn’t see his eyes. You took off your headphones, offering them to him.

He hesitated, taking the device from you and mimicking the position over his ears. The world seemed to shift back into a manageable focus, and he perked up a little. Your smile brightened, and you stuck your hand out to him.

“That’s better, right? Noise-cancelling headphones. The environment can be a bit much for me, too. My name is (Y/N). What’s yours?”

(Y/N) . . . you certainly had a lot to say. Mystery’s fingers slowly brushed your palm, not in a handshake, just a touch. Your skin was tender, warm. “Mystery.”

“Mystery? That’s cool, I haven’t heard that one before! I like your tattoos,” she pointed at the lightning-like markings on his wrist, and he tensed.

You didn’t seem to notice.

“. . . Thank you.”

“Well, Mystery, I had some shopping to do in the square, if you want to come along.”

So Mystery found himself following you down the street, hand-in-hand, a skip in your step.

You were so . . . happy. Not in a bad way, just in a way he wasn’t used to. Finally, there was something he wanted to get used to.

Before you could get to the square, you came across the other Sajas. They were asking around for Mystery like they had lost their dog (they had), describing his appearance to strangers before Baby wordlessly pointed him out.

He’s oddly chill for the way they saw him last. They eyed you suspiciously, gazes dropping to your entwined hands. You did not have a care in the world.

Mystery knew he had to go. He tried to offer your headphones back, and you only shook your head, pulling out a pair of earbuds. “You need them more than me. I always carry an extra pair just in case.”

Instead, you offered him a blue post-it with about ten digits on it, give or take. “Bye, Mystery!” And then you were gone.

The boys blinked owlishly, Romance in particular disbelief.

“. . . What did I miss?”

»                                                      ⊱◈⊰

Ever since then, you have always been found at Mystery’s side. It was a mutual latch; you taught him about lots of things—food, stories, why things existed, methods and resources to try to help with the noise of the environment—and he listened.

You were the only sunshine he could really tolerate.

Slowly, he came to terms with the surface again. But he didn’t let go of you. He liked having you around for every moment, even the short, quiet ones. Not because he needed you anymore, but because he wanted you. Wanted your smiles and your time, wanted those gentle hands of yours and the way you’d run them through his hair to calm him or trace the patterns on his arms.

You didn’t question him, not the way others did. You let him exist. Didn’t blink twice when the light warped around his skin, or the strange shape of his nails when they grew a little. Not the way his teeth might poke out a bit, or his slightly distorted reflection in the mirror.

He wasn’t even sure if you saw these things. It only made him like you more.

It was another day at the Saja dorms, and Mystery was lying on your lap as you explained the plot to some show. He was listening, he really was, but the feeling of your fingers against his scalp . . .

His eyes drooped a little, and he couldn’t help but melt into you more. You giggled, finding the behavior cute in his own Mystery way.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re part dog,” you decided, poking his cheek softly. Mystery hummed.

“You don’t know any better,” he muttered, a little smile forming. To be fair, he was right. You didn’t know that, though.

Instead, you grinned, going back to yapping about your show.

And Mystery was content with this for a while—simple touches, the fabric of your shirt against his nose. Your voice.

Until Romance and Abby walked through the door, drowning out your words with their chatter and laughter. They hadn’t even noticed you both on the couch, too busy musing about some flash mob they had dealt with. Then Baby was looking for a snack, rustling through loud bags of chips and watching some video, Mystery’s peace was disrupted once more.

He felt a tick in his head. The air around him sparked a little.

But before he could let out more than a sharp snarl (drawing the attention of the others), your hand pressed against his lips gently as you hushed him.

“. . . Mystery, you can’t hiss at people,” you shook your head matter-of-factly. “It’s not nice.”

Much to the boys’ surprise, Mystery . . . stopped?

He huffed, sinking further into your lap with a pout. “That’s the point.”

You pushed your fingers back into his hair to try and cheer him up, leaning back into the couch. “There’s better ways to express your feelings, though.”

Mystery said nothing, curling into you more.

The other Sajas blanked.

He was listening??

 “I guess it has to be the right extrovert to adopt an introvert,” Abby whispered loudly, glancing at Romance. Baby shrugged.

“That’s his handler.”

“Is he . . . purring?”

“Shh. Just leave it alone.”

Mystery nuzzled into the warmth of your palm, letting out a sigh of relief.

Finally. Back to his peace.

»                                                      ⊱◈⊰

A/N: Aaa okay so I finished it! I hope you liked it? See you soon!

—Captain Morii 🌤️

Morii's Business Class: @abby-himbo-truther @kpopmultistans

[nickel-alloy]

the specter of autism possessed me for a second so forgive me about the fascinating worldbuilding implications of this post.

An elf pirate with sufficient ear power wouldn't need a pistol because they have built-in slings, I suppose. If this world is dominated by elves, guns would probably end up developing a lot later - or, because the ears are comparatively delicate, alternatives may have needed to arise sooner. Cutting off the ears of your enemies would be equivalent to cutting off their sword-hand, or cutting off the draw fingers of an archer.

Elf anabolic steroids probably do insane things to the ear muscles. What kinds of workouts do you think elves would have to do for developing ear muscles for flicking them in the right way to throw things? And the muscles themselves - I assume elves would retain the muscle groups that let them swivel the ears and not just a single-direction flick, for a broader range of aim. Elves with better aim would have survived early in the elf family tree.

And speaking of evolution. If the ears are so powerful, then it was likely due to evolutionary pressure - elsewise, putting so much energy into well-developed ear muscles would have been a waste of resources, and there would have been no reason for powerful ears to have had so much of an upper hand to stick around into the era of pirates. The evolution of early elfkind would have had to have been a balance of ear size - too small, and the sling power is nothing, which offers no protection against decent-sized predators and no way to hunt prey or knock fruit out of trees. Too large, and the ears become easy and cumbersome targets, say nothing of the infection risk in such a delicate region of the head. Of course, elves could also have developed throwing weapons in the same way that humans did, but when so many of them have access to a biological ranged weapon of skull-puncturing power, the incentive would only be there for those without ears or those with underperforming ears, which would likely be very few - ears would have evolved into a very sustainable & probably hardy form by the time elves could develop weapons, if human history if anything to go by.

Also, what the fuck - what kind of hyperspecific environmental pressures would favor the development of inbuilt projectile launchers? I guess horned lizards, spitting cobras, and archerfish all do projectiles, and lots of arthropods can launch themselves all kinds of distances, but the archerfish is basically just using its equivalent to air as a projectile, the reptiles use bodily fluids, and arthropods are much smaller. Elfkind may have evolved from the elf equivalent of a primate (?) someplace with a severe excess of small pebbles and gravel of exact optimal throwing size for "ear flick power" to have been a viable mutation. Maybe it started as a way to ward off insects carrying disease and ended up being helpful by the time they had hands for picking up rocks, but those must have been some strong-ass insects.

There are many things to be said about the possibilities here. One of these possibilities is, of course, that this was not a result of evolutionary pressure at all, and ears as weapons simply arose from a combination of elf magic, truly remarkable amounts of hallucinogens, and queer sexuality.

at first I was liek <(^_ᗜ)>

but then I was liek <(눈_ᗜ)>

[revelboo]

Stairs are the Devil and as I sit stuck on the first floor of the air bnb my family rented when I came down to hunt for food I considered. Man there must be so many stairs and ladders I’d human/Cybertronian spaces. I’d just be asking every bit that passes by if they could pick me up and drop me on the next platform ahsjdhbd

🤣 humans after they have their own cat highway in the Ark just making puppy eyes at any bot they come across for uppies so they don’t have to walk because that ship is huge.

Lift

Slingshot, Alpha Bravo

• Are you even going in the right direction? You’d been pretty sure when you’d started out, but now you’re less confident. Even though you’d been one of the loudest lobbying for a safe way to get around the Ark because it was embarrassing to be carried everywhere and walking on the ground is too risky when the bots are so big. But you’re beyond caring about dignity at this point as you just sit on the walkway. Because you’re not walking another damn step. And your head lifts when you hear peds.

• Spotting one of the little humans on the walkway, Slingshot breaks away from Alpha Bravo, curious. Especially since you’re alone and humans are normally not far from whoever their Cybertronian guardian is. And off limits. “You’re even tinier than I thought,” he croons, reaching out his cupped hands and you immediately retreat. Growling, Alpha Bravo shoves his hands away. ‘You can’t just pick one of them up,’ the other Aerialbot snarls. Just wanted to hold you, he wasn’t going to drop you.

• Eyeing the two, it’s not like you know every Autobot in the Ark, but there’s not that many bots with flight capable altmodes. And you’ve been here long enough to know bots react one of two ways with humans. Indifference or almost frightening levels of curiosity thinking humans are cute. The taller of the two definitely falls into the latter category. But if he likes humans? “I’m lost,” you call out and they both look at you in question, the shorter bot actually startling like he didn’t realize you could talk. “Could I get a lift to the rec room?” And shorty is rumbling, trying to push the taller bot down the hall as you give him your best puppy eyes. “Please?”

• Groaning as he clears his vents when Slingshot immediately agrees, Alpha Bravo watches the other bot coax you into his hands. And Slingshot’s headed back the way they came with you, fussing over how small you are as you beam up at him. Making a big deal out of him helping you and the taller Aerialbot is eating it up. Gullible enough to need the attention. Hears you crooning about their paint and asking what they transform into and he rumbles even as his rotors flare slightly when you say you bet they’re amazing fliers. Not that he needs the praise, even if it is true.

• These guys are too easy. The taller one who’d introduced himself as Slingshot, as eager as a puppy. Making you think he’s lonely. His buddy just keeps frowning at you, his tone almost sullen when he talks. Big chip on his shoulder if you had to guess and it’s adorable. But any bots friendly enough to carry you where you need to go so you don’t have to walk all the way yourself? Yeah, these guys, or at least Slingshot, are your new besties. Dignity is overrated anyway. You’re good with being carried.

[sirenixspook]

General Astrology Observations II

Sagittarius placements are prominent in a lot of influencers or people who have blown up in a short amount of time, their philosophy attracts huge audiences.

Cancer placements can get away with a lot, “who is going to argue with a mother” energy. They can easily get attached to people/places/situations, they are here to learn that acceptance, safety and nourishment comes from within.

8th house synastry with someone will stay with you forever until you do necessary shadow work to come to terms with what the synastry with that person was trying to teach you; it's not uncommon for this person's impact to be in the depths of your shadows months or years after the relationship ended.

4th house pluto are good at manifestation, due to their turbulent home life as a child their subconscious was never a safe place to be in and they are forced to confront the depths of their subconsciousness if they want to heal, they master "thoughts shift reality."

12H mars can be drawn to sexually immoral acts and conceal it. With this placement, one could never truly feel at peace with themselves unless they use their drive to direct their energy into forms that benefit all of humanity.

Pluto in 1H go through a lot of transformations with their appearance, they might have gone through many different styles or adopt new mannerisms constantly, their power is strongest when they stay firm to their core personality.

Gemini placements- will talk for the sake of talking Vs 3rd house placements- will go selectively mute, “I hope that made sense.”

I’ve noticed 2H Jupiter is a great indicator of whether someone has the necessary attributions to escape poverty, or a place coming from little availability. This placement could be seen in the classic “rags to riches” story.

4th house placements are generational curse breakers- they’re here to release themselves from chains that bound generations of family karma before them

Personal planets near MC could indicate that person’s personal revelations out to the public to see. They could gain a lot of attention/spotlight quick.

9th house placements have the most open hearts and souls- they could love reading and attribute their life experiences to a higher philosophy

Pluto in the chart opens the door to therapy- there’s so much negative, one sided interpretation of Pluto. Within its sole visor of constant destruction, you can find therapeutic ways to find acceptance. The goal of Pluto is to let go of control, and to surrender to whatever forces hold you, bc it’s likely that you are your own worst enemy with Pluto’s destructive and regenerating properties.

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

[luvpocket]

just look at me - geum seongje

pairings: geum seongje x female reader

author's note: caps off on purpose. i know this is a mess (mostly just dialogue) but i was feeling corny. i'll update the other story when i get my period again (i'll feel like reading and writing angst then)

genre: fluff, mild angst with good ending, reader is insecure, aged up characters

warnings?: mdni, mentions of sex, cursing

word count: 6077

the night fell and all your armors came down with it. you had learnt from a very young age that manifesting your true emotions only came with consequences. and the consequences would only be greater if these feelings were directed to an almost gang leader.

no one had ever reciprocated you. you hadn’t felt much for many neither, but you swore this time was different. it always seemed nearly impossible, but now it looked fully unattainable. yet, this was the one time you felt it different. you questioned yourself every damn night: the one time you have real, true feelings about someone, you decide that that someone has to be seongje.

seongje. the most emotionally unavailable person to ever cross your path. even more than you — and damn, that was already some big competition.

it probably felt comforting because you knew your non-reciprocated feelings were not only for you. it was not a personal thing: not about your looks, your position, your way of being. you could just blame his seeming incapacity to truly want someone that way. to not discard the girls he slept with like the cigarettes he flickered. and even if it were because of your person itself, you would never know, and that was enough.

you didn’t even understand why you were wondering so much — no one would ever know about this stupid crush. you didn’t even know if it was a crush, or why you even felt it. when you joined the union, everyone warned you about seongje. but when it was time to actually interact with him, it was weirdly comfortable. you remembered your first mission, to which he came to help by the end of it, to finish the job off. of course you knew he was just following orders from above, but he helped you get up when he saw you laying on the ground. he also told you about the events of his evening on the way back to the bowling alley, how he had had to fight a guy who had been stealing phones from the union, while you were in tears and disassociating the whole journey. it was a simple action, but it was comforting knowing it came from seongje himself, and also knowing no one had had good intentions with you for a long time.

you weren’t friends, you didn’t even know if he had any, really. but when the missions ended and you two were alone, he spoke. you just listened, not reacting much, too afraid to mess it up. but you showed interest, nodding along or humming, not being able to hold eye contact either — not only because you knew the consequences of it, but because you were incredibly awful at it. and you, who had practically been in an unwanted social isolation for months, were really appreciative of his attempts at holding conversation, even if it was more like a monologue. too appreciative, in fact.

you guessed the lack of social interactions had messed up with your synapses. you didn’t even know how to differentiate politeness from friendliness from romantic feelings anymore. so when a random girl at the bowling alley suddenly made small talk with you while you were waiting for orders, your heart almost beat out of your chest with excitement. the joyful feeling became even greater when the girl casually mentioned a party at the usual club the members met at, and you being invited if you wanted to go. the club was actually a scenario that came out of your own nightmares, but you couldn’t say no to the minor possibility of making at least one friend. your loneliness and the urge to talk to someone was making you desperate.

you were glad you said yes, though. it was a saturday night and you were thinking too much. mostly about him. you remembered how, back when you hadn’t joined the union and you had friends, you used to drink your emotions away every weekend. so you wanted to do the same that night.

you felt really out of place, though. you came in on your own and when you entered the club, you weren’t sure where to go or whom to greet. you didn’t even know where the girl who had invited you was, or if she would even remember you. you immediately realized that it was a mistake to go without being friends with anyone, but you decided to go with the flow. just for one night.

you sat at the bar and asked for a drink, which you downed in no time. you craved for that drunken state, for your inhibitions to go away. you quickly ordered a second one, just looking around to see if you recognized anyone.

and then you saw him. sitting down, presiding over the table, while a stunning girl was straddling his lap, kissing him. you stared, the alcohol already having an effect on your body. he returned the kiss from time to time, then went back to drinking from his glass and smoking the cigarette in his hand. he also made comments to his friends while smirking, but you weren’t able to hear what they were saying because of the distance and the loud music.

you couldn’t deny it to yourself: the scene was making you wish you were her. fuck it, even being one of his friends in the table, just to see him like that up close, would be enough. you ordered another drink, wanting to forget about the image.

when you finished your fourth drink, everything that passed your sight felt like a blur. you weren’t thinking anymore, just walking, feeling the sudden urge to move. you went to the club’s main dance floor, not being able to feel embarrassment anymore. you started to dance alone, singing the parts of the songs that you remembered, slurring the words. suddenly, you felt a pair of hands roaming over your hips, picking at your dress.

“hey, sweetheart. you alone here?” you didn’t recognize the man’s voice. you just felt his hands on you too much, but you weren’t responding because you weren’t conscious enough. you just kept dancing, not even answering.

“mmh, not a talker, huh? wanna go straight at it?” he said, while spinning you around. even though you weren’t processing the situation properly, you felt uncomfortable. his hand came up to your waist, so you tried to pull away, but he didn’t let you. you started to panic.

“h-hey. let go.” you said to the man. but he kept rubbing off against you, not listening.

suddenly, as your tears started to come out, the man was pulled away. he was taken by the collar of his shirt and dragged away from the crowd. it was too quickly to process — you didn’t even see how it happened, or who did it.

you decided to go the bathroom, in the need of washing your hands to feel a little less filthy. you then chose to go out for some air, starting to sober up after that whole situation. you were just processing it, becoming conscious of the strange man and his sudden disappearance, not being aware of your environment.

“i was starting to think i needed to check my prescription again.” you froze. you definitely did recognize that voice, the one who talked to you through your disassociation time after every mission. “you were the last person i expected to see here tonight.” seongje said, while blowing his cigarette. right after that, he moved his foot, suddenly pressing against a beaten up body on the floor that you hadn’t seen. it was the man. your mouth fell open at the bizarre situation.

“now you can say thank you.” seongje said while smirking.

you stayed silent. you never talked to him, you didn’t even know what to say in normal scenarios, what was supposed to come out of your mouth then? after a minute, you decided to speak, just to make the interaction as short as possible.

“thank you. i was too drunk, and i-i couldn’t move. i’m glad someone was there.” you said while looking down at the floor.

“i was there. this is kind of my natural habitat, you know? but what are you doing here exactly?” you were shocked at his remark, but you dismissed it.

“a girl… a girl invited me. and i haven’t gone out for recreational time in like… forever. so i wanted to give it a try. it was a depressing try but, yeah…” god, why were you so awkward? you quickly shut yourself up, realizing you might need to take a social cues specialized course if you ever wanted to make friends again.

“where was that girl, huh? i mean, when this fucking bitch was groping you.” he said, while kicking the unconscious man lightly.

“i-i mean, she invited me but that’s it. i don’t even know her name… by the way, will he be okay? the last thing i want is to get in any trouble tonight- or like… ever.”

“he will be okay. he practically does this every weekend. and he always gets the same outcome.” you smiled unconsciously at the thought of him helping people, even if he was the most feared man in that club. maybe that was why so many girls were head over heels for him, you included. you all fell for the basic treatment of a man framed differently from the usual.

“so you basically work here unpaid? as a bouncer?”

“i never get involved.” he said, simply. but those words made your stomach turn. why did he get involved tonight, then? and did he just let girls get groped when he had clearly noticed it? you probably looked lost in your train of thought, since he started explaining himself. “i just tell the other guys, since they all wanna act like saviors with girls. they might wanna fuck them after their heroic act, you know? i’m always up for a fight and you know that, but alcohol kind of calms me down. i get a little lazy, so it’s no fun.” he said, casually.

“well, thank you for your special service tonight, then. weren’t no guys available? mmh… i know you were the one to interfere because i’m not fuckable enough, so don’t worry.” you said while smiling lightly, letting a bit of your personality out now that you were a little comfortable, some alcohol still left on your body.

“this is the most you have ever talked to me. now i just have to get you to look at me and i will be a happy man. that stupid fucking rule doesn’t exactly apply to you, you know that?” you stayed silent, fidgeting with your fingers in disbelief. happy man? from looking at him?

“whatever you took tonight… man, i would love some. you sound really fucked up.” you said nervously, chuckling a little to try to calm yourself down. humor was clearly your coping mechanism, but it wasn’t working so effitiently that night.

“never been more sober in my life.” he said plainly, while blowing his cigarette again. meanwhile, you were sure you were at the verge of cardiac arrest.

“look… i-i am not trying to be disrespectful. i know you are important around here. but i would prefer it if you didn’t get me involved in any kind of like… joke or mockery. i’m too slow and definitely too sensitive for that.”

“come on. just look at me.”

“i’m not trying to get my ass beaten tonight.”

he stepped closer, discarding his already used cigarette.

“i beat an asshole up for you. just told you i don’t ever do that. what more proof do you want?”

“i don’t sleep around.” you quickly said, trying to give a meaning to his words. “i know you do that, and i have seen the girls you do it with… and damn, they are beautiful and charismatic and are nothing like what i could ever be like but… maybe this is like a sick goal, or like a prank… the thing is, i’m not trying to disrespect you when i say you may want to hook up, but it’s like the only half-assed explanation i can kind of give to your words right now… and i-“ you got stopped by the sudden feeling of his fingertips on your chin, pushing up.

“you never respond to what i tell you, but you sure do have a lot in your mind. keep going, though. don’t let me stop you.” you just laughed awkwardly, still not looking at his eyes in fear. why did you took everything he said as a threat? you couldn’t believe someone — let alone seongje — would have genuine intentions with you.

“head is in the right angle. just move your eyes up and it will be perfect.” he said teasingly, his fingers still on your chin.

you decided to make it over as quickly as your body allowed you to.

“okay. after this, if you still want to beat me up, please consider that i’m not the best fighter, i have been eating like super bad lately and i’m still a little drunk. also maybe… that you are one of the most known fighters around here? that would be good to consider too, yeah.” at that point, you were just saying random words, trying to prepare yourself for the possible incoming punch into your face. you knew seongje didn’t fight people unless he was either ordered to by baekjin or if it was a challenge. you had seen his face when his opponent was strong enough to fight back: pure ecstasy. so you knew this wouldn’t be fun for him at all in terms of strength, but what if it was entertaining in another twisted way? maybe he had moved on from having fun with good fighters — maybe it was too repetitive now and he had started to enjoy a predator-pray kind of play.

“you are not going to let this go, right?”

“you already know the answer, right?”

in that moment, you just closed your eyes tightly and opened them again, now looking straight at his. how could you be so anxious just from holding eye contact with someone? maybe because that someone was seongje, and you had heard about a million stories of what had happened when someone had dared to stare.

“should i call 911?” he said teasingly, even though your head was empty at that moment, not being able to respond.

you felt stupid — like your dumb teenager self almost. you were 20 now, why was your heart beating from just looking at a man?

“now, tell me. why did you come here tonight?”

“i wanted to drink.”

“but why?”

“i-i don’t know.”

“you do know.”

“i wanted to not think.”

“about?”

“someone?”

in that moment, seongje smirked.

“i know that’s right.” he said simply, letting go of your chin.

you felt like gasping for air, relieved at the loss of his touch. it was giving you crippling anxiety, not knowing if those same fingers would move to your cheek in the form of a punch at any moment.

“that whole speech that you gave me there; about me wanting to fuck you and all that.” he paused, almost amused at your reaction when you heard his choice of words. “you are something else, i swear.”

“i know it’s fucking stupid. thinking THE geum seongje would want that with me.” you said awkwardly while laughing, fearing his reaction.

“i’m not fully denying your claims. but you didn't get all the parts right.”

what was that supposed to even mean? what part was true and which wasn’t? you just kept looking around nervously, still paying attention to the unconscious man on the floor.

“let’s get you a taxi, yeah?”

“what about him?”

“what about him?” he repeated in the same tone as yours.

“are we… just going to leave him there?”

“i’ll be here when he wakes up. he might pass out again when he sees my face, though. but if it makes you happy.” seongje said while shrugging his shoulders.

“s-sure. thank you. i’ll get my own taxi, though.” before you finished your sentence, he was already walking past you, opening an app on his phone.

“your address?”

you didn’t trust him. and he could probably see it in your face, since he passed you his phone immediately.

“just type it in. i won’t look. i’ll delete it after. do you trust me that little?”

“i-i am just a girl who is aware of her own vulnerable situation and how that can make her an easy prey?”

“so aware that a man almost forces himself on you tonight?”

ouch. he got you there. you decided to stop fighting back, just grabbing his phone. you couldn’t help but notice the small contact your fingers made when you did so, and how you lingered there for a second.

“here you go. thank you. you really helped me tonight.” you said while giving him his phone back, smiling lightly while looking down.

“don’t know what came over me neither.” the comment made your heart flutter, knowing now that you weren’t the only one confused by his actions.

when you saw the taxi down the street, you started to panic. you didn’t know how to greet people, but you knew how to say goodbye even less. the anxiety was only even worse after that whole nerve-wracking conversation, which made you have no clear thoughts in that moment.

“i don’t want to see you here ever again. this is not the place for you. if you ever wanna drink, tell me.” your heart jumped again at his sudden words. tell him? about drinking together? you wanted to drink to forget about him in the first place.

“i don’t want to bother you. but thank you.”

“get in the taxi. we’ll talk.” he said while the car stopped, coming to open the door. you just hummed and got in, looking at him for a second before he closed the door.

there, you took your first deep breath of the night, your mind racing with thoughts. thoughts of just him.

days passed. days of him acting like his usual self, and you pretty much doing the same. answering back a bit more. looking up from time to time.

“so you don’t want to drink with me?” you were walking back to the bowling alley again, exhausted. the question woke you up immediately, though.

“what?”

“first word today. that’s what i have to do to get you to talk? be blunt?” he kept smoking his usual cigarette, having the decency to blow the smoke away from your face.

“please, don’t. you are going to give me a heart attack.”

“answer the question.” why was he so persistent? you didn’t even know what to answer. yes, you wanted to spend time with him — the thought alone made your cheeks burn and your stomach turn. but the anxiety that same thought gave you was enough to not even question if you should.

“i-i know you are a busy man.”

“didn’t have you for a liar.”

fuck it. you didn’t think he would give up anyway.

“okay. tonight.” a few seconds passed by, after which he started to laugh hysterically.

your cheeks flushed. you knew it, of course you should have trusted your gut — it was all a sick joke to entertain himself. and you just had to be the most sensitive person on planet earth. your eyes started to get red and veiny, holding in your tears like a champ.

he must have noticed then, since he immediately stopped his track right in front of you.

“i knew you didn’t trust me, but damn. you really do not, like at all.” you just looked down, not really paying attention to him since you were on the verge of a breakdown.

“i’m not playing. i’m laughing at your sudden outburst of confidence, didn’t expect it there. you are just so confusing it’s hilarious.” you looked up for a moment in disbelief. he was looking straight at you, searching for your eyes.

“so? did i fuck it up?” seongje said, starting to walk again. you thanked the gods for that since you were sensing an incoming panic attack triggered by his intense gaze.

you just laughed lightly, trying to play it off.

“i’m just too dramatic. you didn’t fuck anything up.”

“i understand you feel intensely. not the same as dramatic.” perfect, you wanted to cry again. his words hit you like a train, confusing you with his remark. how or when had he even noticed that?

“i-i appreciate that. like a lot.”

“tonight is fine for me. give me your number.” you just stayed silent, lost in your thoughts. was this a good idea? or just your delusions making decisions for you?

“if we are drinking together tonight, you should trust me at least a little more.”

“you know about your own reputation.”

“as far as i know, it doesn’t include being non-consensual with women.”

“it does include dumping them the second you… you know.”

“and you know this is different. i know you know deep down.”

“i-i don’t know.”

“fine. i was going to save you from the experience of having to text first, but i’ll give you my number and you can do whatever you want with it. deal?” seongje said while putting his arm out, expecting you to give him your phone. you thought about it for a few seconds, since you didn’t believe you would have it in you to text first. but having seongje’s phone number sounded like a dream come true. you accepted, passing him your phone.

“here you go. i’ll be waiting for your text.” he said casually while walking into the bowling alley, separating your ways there.

he was a known player and this was you probably falling for it, just like all the other people before.

it was 8 pm. you were sitting down on your bed, wondering if you should say something. if you were going to do it, you had to do it now. what could you lose, though? even if he was just playing, it would be entertaining for you too. you reminded yourself that not everything had to be so serious, but anxiety always won against your true wants and needs. you wouldn’t let it be like that this time, though.

“hey. still up for drinks tonight?” you texted the number he had saved as “geum seongje :)”.

after just a minute, you received a notification. damn, he was fast.

“i’ll pick you up in an hour” your heart jumped out of your chest at his quick reply.

after 45 minutes, you were ready. you didn’t even know why you had put so much effort into your looks. you knew you wouldn’t look much different from the mess you usually were, but you still tried. although you couldn’t understand why.

while waiting, you realized you hadn’t texted him your address, but he didn’t ask neither. even though he told you he would delete it last time, you guessed he probably hadn’t. you would confront him for that later, you thought.

at 8:59 pm, there was a knock on the door. one of your roommates called your name, saying it was for you.

“who is this boy?” she said teasingly, while you walked to the entrance. there, you saw him — dressed casually but put together. you couldn’t lie to yourself: he looked extremely handsome.

“shut up. i’ll come back later.”

“sure, sure. later.” your roommate said while winking at you. you closed the door right behind you, rolling your eyes.

“sorry for that. they are not used to someone asking for me. even less if it’s a man.”

“i enjoyed it. it’s funny how awkward you get.” his comment made you blush, which only made him be even more right.

“awkward? me?”

“you are the most awkward person i’ve ever met. i like it a lot, though.” should you take that as a compliment?

“thanks, i guess?”

“you are welcome. get in.” he said while pointing at his car. you didn’t even know he had one.

“you drive? wow.” you said in a shocked expression.

“did i impress you? i’m fluttered.” he said while getting into the car. “i do everything differently with you, but it doesn’t seem to faze you at all.” you just looked confused, not knowing exactly what he meant. you always were surprised at his kindness, since you had only heard he was the opposite of the person you had met.

“i do appreciate… this. everything. anyone talking to me feels like a gift sent from the gods lately.”

“i don’t want you to say anyone.”

“mmh?” you muttered, confused. he started the car and began driving, not answering back. “by the way, where are we going?”

“special bar for you. one that isn’t a shithole like the club from the other night.”

the other night. the thought only made you sick to your stomach with anxiety. you hadn’t talked about the whole situation again. “mmh? why are you fidgeting so much? because i mentioned that night?” how did he read you so well? or were you that obvious? he was driving, so he could only see you from his peripheral sight. still, he nailed your ongoing emotional state. you decided to be honest, since you had realized in those past few weeks that excuses didn’t work with seongje.

“it was just… so overwhelming. i had never talked to you like that. or looked at you like that. and then you told me i could call you for a drink and that was… unexpected to say the least. but i get really giddy when i think about it so it’s not only anxiety.”

“do you remember the things you said? because they were quite… interesting.” you blushed, even though you didn’t exactly know what he meant. you talked way too much for your liking, and you still were tipsy, so not every part was fully clear in your mind.

“delight me. i’ll drink after so i can bear with the embarrassment now.”

“it’s not embarrassing. it’s more like you gave me a peek of what you really think of yourself.”

“so it is extremely embarrassing. great.” you said sarcastically, letting a small laugh out.

“we’ll talk about it after a drink or too so you don’t feel so embarrassed. come on, we are here.” he said while finishing parking his car.

the bar was pretty, almost elegant. it wasn’t too much, but it definitely wasn’t like the club from last time neither. you both sat down at the bar counter and seongje ordered for the two of you.

“how do you know what i like?”

“trust me. i know my drinks.”

the drinks came and he was right, you liked it a lot. so you ordered another one. and then another one. the conversation was casual, similar to the ones you usually had: he told you about the things he had done that week at the union and the people he had had to fight, and you listened. he spoke so clearly, not slurring his words at all, but you were already in another dimension, still paying him attention, but with other thoughts in mind too. like how handsome he looked. or how much you liked the fact that it was a little loud, so that he had to get closer from time to time for you to hear. you were smiling unconsciously, cheeks flushed at your own thoughts and the alcohol in your body.

“you aren’t listening anymore, mmh?”

“i am. i swear i am. you fought that… that guy… you know.”

“yeah, that guy.” he said while smiling lightly. you loved it when he smirked.

“why do you look so normal anyway? you have had as many drinks as me.”

“i am feeling tipsy. but i can control it way better than you, it seems.”

“can you blame me? you were right, you are really good at choosing drinks. and at fighting. and at many things, it seems.”

“even when you are drunk, you still aren’t capable of looking at me, huh?” he suddenly said, looking a bit lost in his own thoughts too.

“w-what?”

“i mean… we are in like a fucking… date. and you still can’t look at me. when i’ve told you you can.”

“date?! is this a date?”

“don’t fucking change the topic” he said while adjusting his glasses. he looked a bit annoyed for a moment, almost impatient.

“why do you care so much about me looking at you?” you quickly said, getting a bit defensive too.

“because i want you to trust me. and i want to see you, i wanna look into your eyes. is that too fucking much to ask for, mmh?”

“maybe it is.” you simply said, getting too overwhelmed. you didn’t like people looking straight at you. you felt small and vulnerable, and you didn’t want him to see too much. you didn’t want him to stop whatever you two had going on, but your brain had made you believe that could happen at any second if you quit hiding.

“is this about what you said the other night?”

“i told you. i don’t remember.”

“i will remind you then. you basically said that just the thought of me wanting to… sleep with you, okay? was disrespectful, to me. you said it like it was a fucking sin for me to want you.”

“oh… that.”

“you said you were nothing like someone i could potentially fuck. basically.”

in that moment, you couldn’t hold your laugh in.

“why is that such a problem, seongje? i stand by my statement, anyway. and i also don’t get how that has to do with me not looking at you, or anything really.” you said his name, which you never did. but you were getting annoyed, since deep down you understood the point he was trying to make — and deep down, you knew he was right too.

“i think you are an insecure mess. that’s all.”

you stayed silent. he was always so blunt you thought you had got used to it. but you weren’t prepared for hearing him — or anyone really — say that.

“i-i am going to go to the bathroom.”

“fuck, wait. i didn’t mean-“

“it’s okay. i just need a moment.” you got up from your seat and left to the bathroom. you knew he was right, and maybe the alcohol didn’t let him say it in the most caring way, but he was still reading you too well. which only made your tears come out faster. you tried to compose yourself, splashing a little water around your neck before going back there.

“i think i’m ready to go home.” you said as soon as you were next to him again.

“i’ll get you home. but let me smoke one first, yeah?”

“yeah, sure.”

you got out of the bar and turned the corner. an alleyway half dimmed waited there, in which seongje started to light his cigarette. after a few minutes of silence, just hearing him blowing smoke, he suddenly spoke.

“i know this won’t fix anything, but i can’t leave tonight without saying it.” he looked lost in thought again, staring straight at the wall right in front of him. you just waited in silence, expecting anything and everything really. seongje could be just like a pandora box sometimes.

“this whole night i have had to restrain myself not to get closer, feel you or even kiss you. i don’t want to scare you away. not with that, and fuck… even less with what i say.”

you looked up in surprise again. it seemed like he had a special talent to make you do so. seongje looked like he was waiting for an answer, still staying silent with a lost gaze.

“i-i don’t get you.” you couldn’t get many words out of your mouth. you were shocked and you truly didn’t understand him. you didn’t understand if this was some kind of sudden, weird want, if he craved trying something new in bed, maybe. you knew you looked like someone who didn’t have much experience at anything, just surviving for these past few years. he could have noticed, since it wasn’t that difficult to see and he was really observant. once again, you couldn’t find many other explanations for his words and actions.

he suddenly laughed while moving his head from side to side. you could see how he was holding his cigarette tighter and the way his jaw clenched. you could sense that he was mad.

“you are impossible. fuck… i don’t even know why i’m trying.”

after a few seconds of you staying silent again, he discarded his cigarette and started walking. “let’s get you home.” he sounded cold, just like everyone had said he was. you walked a few meters behind him, holding your tears in. you knew you were a mess, you were fucking it up. you had had a crush on seongje for so long and now he was saying he wanted to get closer, but you were reacting like that? you were aware of how insecure and anxious you were, but not to this level.

“wait, seongje. i’m sorry.”

“come on.”

“please, let’s talk.”

“then fucking talk. do you think this is easy for me? you think i’ve done this before?” he said while turning around, finally looking at you. you locked eyes with him, which you had only done in a few occasions, but this time it broke your heart. you hated being the cause of someone’s anger, let alone seongje’s.

“d-don’t get mad. i don’t want you to be angry.”

“i’m not mad. i’m fucking disappointed.”

that was even worse. way worse, in fact. tears started to spill out, not being able to hold them anymore. he was always so honest, you knew everything he said he truly meant it.

“don’t… don’t fucking do that.” he said while starting to walk towards you, stopping right in front of your own feet. “just tell me what you think about what i said.”

“i think you are not… reflecting on this enough.”

“you really fucking think i have just decided to say it? that i haven’t wondered for nights about a way of doing it without getting this exact same reaction from you?!”

his words seemed to knock all of the air out of your lungs. for the first time, you kept looking at him, needing to see how he really felt, what he meant with his words. “i have never, fucking never, done this before, okay?”

“done what? flirt with a girl?”

“fuck it, you won’t get it unless i say it straight, huh?”

“you know… you know i’m not used to this!”

“fucking confess to someone! fuck!”

you were gasping for air at that point. were you understanding him right?

“y-you mean…”

“yeah, it means i like you, dumbass. that is what i’ve been trying to get you to infer for the whole night. but even when i tell you directly, you seem not to get it.”

geum seongje liked you. your brain was telling you to not trust him, reminding you you were not enough for him, or anyone really. but the excitement in your heart won for a moment, which got you to speak without thinking.

“you said… you said you wanted to kiss me.”

“really badly.”

“then do it.”

“are you…?”

“i am sure. i warn you though, i haven’t done this in like years so it’s probably like super bad, nothing compared to what you-“

you suddenly felt his lips crash on yours, moving slowly, but getting faster as seconds passed. he held the back of your head to steady you, not letting you pull away, almost scared that you would do so. he felt warm, which made you forget about everything else for a moment, just him in your mind. you were sure you weren’t doing it right, but you were willing to practice with him. after what felt like an eternity but also mere milliseconds at once, he pulled away while panting, resting his forehead over yours.

“you are looking at me now, huh?” seongje said while smiling teasingly.

“don't make me regret this." his smile just kept growing bigger, his cheeks as flushed as yours.

"you won't. ever."

[svt-jia]

⤷ ASK ME ANYTHING . JIA ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

masterlist . 📎 . interviews

— ( ☀️ ) SYNOPSIS: Jia reveals interesting aspects of her life as SEVENTEEN's only female member | Ask Me Anything | ELLE

keys: [...] = [ extra subtitles / editing / comments ]

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ☆ 00:00

"Wow, i'm so nervous," Jia chuckled and sat down on the black chair provided for her, slowly leaning back until she was comfortable. Despite being in front of the cameras for most of her life, being in a completely new environment was oddly nerve-wracking. Her gaze shifted across the room, taking in the sight of multiple cameras facing her direction.

The video cut to Jia's introduction. Now, feeling more confident, she introduced herself with a steady voice. "Hello, I'm Jia, and today I'm going to let Elle ask me anything!"

[ Rhythmic music 🎶 ]

📷 #𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝟏: "What's A Memory You Think About Often?" ☆ 00:11

"Hoshi is always doing his horanghae gesture, so it takes me back a few years to when I helped make a beat for this 'mysterious song' he told me about," Jia speaks, subconsciously smiling at the funny memory.

"When he finished arranging the song, he showed it to much with so much excitement that it got my hopes up," she continued. "It was kinda cute. I've never seen him so excited."

"But when I listened to it and the overly autotuned vocals, all I could do was laugh..." She trailed off. A breathy laugh escaped her lips as she tried to contain her joy. “It's kind of an inside joke between us. I'm sure CARATS know about this song, too. It's kinda catchy.”

📷 #𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝟐: "If You Could Relive One Day of Your Life, Which Would it be?" ☆ 00:53

"If I could relive one day?" Jia repeated the question and stopped to think. She answered, "I think I'd like to relive two days, if that's possible."

"I'd love to relive the day in which I rode a zipline for the first time again," A member of the staff snickered behind the cameras. A smile made its way up to Jia's lips awkwardly, "Huh? What's so funny? I like ziplines!"

"Secondly, I'd like to ride a rollercoaster for the first time again," she said, shyly fidgeting with her fingers. "You know, the fun things. Live the fun days again. Who wouldn't want that?"

📷 #𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝟑: "What's a Song You Have on Repeat?" ☆ 01:23

Aah! I have too many favorites!" Jia scrolled through her playlist on her phone, searching for the song she likes the most. "I can't choose!"

She turned her phone around and showed the artist, "I have too many songs to choose from, but I've been more into Ariana Grande lately. Warm and Moonlight are very good, but in my opinion, this is her best song."

[ Now Playing: Love Me Harder — Ariana Grande 🎶 ]

📷 #𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝟒: "How Do You Feel Being SEVENTEEN's Only Female Member?" ☆ 01:46

Jia sighed playfully, "The most awaited question... Well, I don't have enough time to explain, but there'll be a deeper dive into my life in my next blogs on my channel!"

[ Taking the opportunity to promote her blogs~ ]

"There are many perks, such as having lots of food during gatherings, people who I trust, free personal bodyguards, and my biggest supporters..." she smiled, but then it turned to a slightly annoyed, playful eye roll. "But of course, they're still men. And sometimes, I don't feel like I can talk to them about some of my problems because I'm certain they just... wouldn't understand. Everything has its pros and cons."

"Before we move on, let me tell you a secret," Jia leaned closer to the camera and covered the side of her mouth, as if trying to avoid exposing top-secret information. "They'll probably kill me after this, but they burp more often than you might think. What is it called? Soda... challenges...?"

[ Wow, she really cares about her members' idol image! 🌟 ]

📷 #𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝟓: "What do You Think Your Younger Self Would Say About You Today?" ☆ 02:34

"I really hope she's proud of how far I've come. She would never believe it," Jia admitted. "Her hard work paid off. I wish I could tell her to stop giving up so easily, hahaha!"

📷 #𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝟔: "What Lesson Took You Way Too Long to Learn?" ☆ 02:49

"Patience!" Jia exclaimed without any hesitation, seemingly prepared for this anticipated question, "Definitely patience."

[ Sudden confidence boost?! ]

"I learned a lot throughout my journey from trainee to idol, and I still continue to learn from my mistakes and past experiences. I want to highlight the importance of patience because everything takes its time," she explained.

She continued, "From problems you can't solve at the moment, to achievements earned through perseverance and determination, patience is key. In order to learn the importance of this virtue, you have to take your time, because learning to be patient also takes patience. You never stop learning."

[ "But don't you get impatient and frustrated when Wonwoo walks very slowly and blocks your path?" ]

"Wha— That's a different subject!" She giggled and covered her mouth with her hand, shying away from the camera. "That's not a valid example, is it? I don't think it is!"

[ It's different when someone else does it 🤣 ]

📷 #𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝟕: "Which Member of SEVENTEEN Are You Closest to And Why?" ☆ 3:48

"Some people won't hesitate to say Mingyu... and that's because it's true," Jia shrugged. "As for why, I'm close to him, it's because he was the first person that talked to me when we were still trainees."

"I used to be very shy and wouldn't hang out with anyone. Instead, I'd just stick close to the girl trainees and wonder why I applied to join as a trainee when I clearly felt uncomfortable," she let out a nervous chuckle. "Now that I think about it, it makes me embarrassed."

She brought her focus back to the topic, "Anyway, Mingyu was the first who approached me. He had this cool guy aura, you know? It made him slightly intimidating, but he's a kind person."

[ For more information, visit the Jia: PreDebut Recordings series! ]

📷 #𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝟖: "What Was Your Proudest Moment?" ☆ 04:16

Jia did not hesitate to answer. She was ready for this question, ready to share and summarize her long journey to success, "My debut, without a doubt."

"I was a pretty popular trainee back then, and I'm sure CARATS are aware due to our predebut recordings," she admitted. "I had the vocals, the dance, and I trained for almost two years. But when the news of the group debuting being SEVENTEEN arrived, I was devastated."

"Until they transferred me to the group six months before their debut. The staff had seen my potential and refused to waste it. It was really that simple — my life changed in an instant."

"Of course, it was a very awkward at first. I wasn't really close to the SEVENTEEN members because I used to focus on my own success and avoided making friends. However, as time passed, the members and I grew closer and formed a strong friendship."

"I feel proud because my efforts paid off, and I'm proud of myself for not backing down. Imagine if I had refused to debut because I was too introverted and chose to give up on the opportunity? I'm so glad I didn't," Jia finished sharing her memories, softly smiling at the camera as she shared her experiences during her trainee years.

📷 #𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ☆ 04:51

"Thank you so much to ELLE for inviting me, and thank you to the audience for hanging out with me today. Bye-bye!" She waved as she finished her successful interview, closing her sentence with a warm good-bye.

[ ELLE ]

© svt-jia . 2025

[sleepdeprivedl]

Feathers and Freedom (malleus x reader)

Basically just Malleus rewritten as Maleficent? idk I got bored, it's only a small part of the actual story 💀 oh, and "MC" is basically just "y/n" and was mentioned once as female, so uhh sorry to any guys?? idk, I did my best to leave it as ambiguous as possible

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Aye, our two kingdoms are the worst of neighbors. At this point, the discord between us and them is so vast that only a truly great hero or a terrible villain would have even the slightest chance of bringing us together.

The words of your grandfather’s story echoed through your mind as you darted cautiously through the trees, stopping every now and then to make sure the coast was clear. The human kingdom and The Moors had been at odds for many years, and the adults in the village often told cautionary tales about venturing too close to its great woods. Children go missing…monsters lurk in the shadows…they’ll drag you in and feast upon your bones! Mostly a load of drivel, you thought. Of course, one shouldn’t go into The Moors given the current tensions running between the two kingdoms, but…it’s for her, you reminded yourself, pressing onwards. 

It wasn’t long until you came upon the area you were searching for: a pool of clear water surrounded by towering crystals that glistened in the early morning light. It was a fairly secluded area, surrounded by trees and a vine-covered cave on the opposite shore. The pool itself had many smaller crystals at the bottom of its shallow waters, and walking up to the edge of it, you plucked one of them from its shore. Got it. You weren’t planning on keeping it, more like…borrowing. That was all. Holding it up, you admired the way it caught the light and cast mini rainbows all around. While you were admiring the small rock, a sharp snap echoed off to the side and you spun around to face whatever had made the noise. 

Two of the towering guardsmen were making their way towards you, spears clutched in their hands. You’d heard stories about them, about their ruthlessness in battles. They looked  like living trees, and they could withstand much more than the average human soldier. Flinching in surprise, you quickly skipped across the rocks littered within the pool to the cave you saw earlier. Pushing your way through the thick vines foliage, you pressed yourself into a small nook in the rock. It was cold and damp, but no way did you want to be caught by those things. Who knows what they would do to you? Would they run you through with their spears for trespassing? Would they drag you off somewhere else and feed you to some unknown forest beast? I sure hope not, you thought, trying to calm your racing heart. They couldn’t reach you in here at least, so you had time to think up a plan to get out. You could hear the splashing of the water as they waded towards the cave.

Okay, okay, what to do? Running isn’t an option and this cave doesn’t lead anywhere…maybe you could try leaving when they’re not looking and climb up the side of the cliff? It wasn’t that high, you reasoned. Climbing it wouldn’t be an issue, doing so without being seen was the difficult part.

I just need to wait—your thought was interrupted by the sound of heavy flapping and then the strange sound of the guards speaking to someone. Their language was unintelligible to human ears, sounding more animalistic than anything. You stood there, frozen to the spot, listening intently. Are they talking about how they’re going to cook me—another voice rang out. This one speaking in a tongue you could understand. 

“I’m not afraid.” Was that another person? A boy, by the sound of it. Maybe he could help you get out? “Besides, I’ve never seen a human up close.” …Nevermind. Clearly, not a human, based on his words. You sighed. Were you simply doomed to be stuck here forever?

“Come out!” This time it was directed at you. You jumped slightly at being addressed directly, even if you couldn’t see them. 

You debated what to do for a few moments before calling back, “...No. They’re going to kill me.”

A quiet chuckle echoed through the air at your response. “It’s not right to steal, but we don’t kill people for it.” There was a pause, neither of you saying anything. “Come out, I promise you will not be killed by them for such a petty crime.”

You contemplated your choices. Go out, or stay stuck in here for Gods knows how long? You sighed again. Well, here goes nothing… Bracing yourself for the worst, you got up, dusting yourself off as you took a few tentative steps towards the cave mouth. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you pushed through the green vines back out into the sunlight.

“Are you fully grown?” The voice did indeed belong to a boy, but he was far from human. A pair of feathery black wings sprouted from his back, and two horns sprouted from his head, curving upwards. Not to mention his ears, they were sharp and pointed instead of rounded like a normal human’s.

“No,” you responded, eyeing the boy in front of you. He was beautiful, and the way his emerald eyes caught the light was mesmerizing. He didn’t really look any older than you. If you had to hazard a guess, you’d say you were the same age.

He turned to speak to one of the guards. “I believe she’s just a girl.” 

You raised a brow at that. “And you’re just a boy…I think.” 

The boy looked back at you, taking you in with his gaze. “Who are you?”

You hesitated for a moment. Your grandfather had told you stories about foolish travelers who’d given their names to faeries, and ended up under their control. That being said, your grandfather had also acknowledged that a lot of traditions regarding faeries became warped by old wives’ tales. Deciding to just go with it, you told the boy your name. “I’m called MC, what’s yours?”

“My name is Malleus,” he answered. He looked like he was going to say something else before being interrupted by one of the guardsmen again. It spoke and pointed at you, seemingly accusing you of something. “Right, of course.” Malleus turned back to you and spoke again. “You have to give it back.”

“Give what back?” You were playing dumb, though it wasn’t fooling any of them. Malleus simply gave you a look and stretched out his hand. Realizing you’d been caught, you sighed in defeat and stepped forward, placing the small crystal in his hand. Your fingers brushed against his skin briefly and you shivered, taking a step back after handing it over. You watched forlornly as he cast it back into the pool, where it belonged.

***

“If I knew you were going to throw it away, I would’ve kept it,” you said sulkily, ambling along the dirt path. The two of you were walking back to the edge of The Moors through the thick forest. It was a lovely place, if you were being honest. The sound of the wind rustling through the treetops and the occasional birdcalls were quite soothing.

“I didn’t throw it away, I delivered it home,” Malleus replied, a slight hint of amusement in his tone.

“Same thing. I was gonna bring it back anyways…” you muttered under your breath, stepping over a small patch of clovers so as not to crush them.

The boy took note of your action, his large wings grazing the ground as he continued to walk alongside you. “Forgive me for not believing you, most thieves wouldn’t return what it is they have stolen.” He watched you with intrigue, curiosity written in his expression. “You seem…rather mindful for a human.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, unsure of whether to be offended or not.

Malleus thought for a moment, seemingly trying to decide what he wanted to say. “The others say that humans are…destructive beings, that they don’t pay any mind to the natural world around them. They simply use whatever and whoever to get what they want. But…you just went out of your way to avoid stepping on those flowers.”

“Oh,” That was not what you had been expecting. “Well, insects need those flowers for food and…what’s the point of stepping on them anyways?” You really didn’t know what to say to that. You knew that humans weren’t all good, but they weren’t all bad either. You supposed it was the same with faeries, given your interaction with Malleus so far. “You really shouldn’t judge someone based on something so silly,” you muttered.

Malleus listened to you speak with interest, taking in your words and reasoning. You weren’t at all how he’d expected a human to be. The ones in the stories were violent and boorish, with foul-tempers and fueled by greed. “...I suppose not,” he agreed.

The two of you slowly came to a stop. You’d reached the edge of the forest, the edge of The Moors. Before you stood rolling fields of grass and wildflowers, the human kingdom’s castle standing tall and imposing in the distance. “I suppose this is where we must part ways,” he said solemnly.

“So it is.” You gazed out at the sprawling fields, feeling the cool breeze as it blew towards you.

“...Are you going to come back?” The fae asked curiously. Malleus had rather enjoyed your company, though he wouldn’t admit it. Humans fascinated him, and you seemed to be a genuine person unlike the tales he’d heard.

You looked back over at him, contemplating his question. “...If I made that choice, would you be here?”

“Perhaps.” He answered noncommittally, though you could tell that what he really meant was yes. At least, that’s how it seemed based off of his tone. 

Instead of answering verbally, you stuck out your hand to shake his. A silent truce. A promise. However, the moment he took it he flinched back, hissing in pain. 

You looked at him worriedly. “What is it? What’s wrong?” 

He rubbed at his palm where he’d touched you, brows furrowed. “Your ring. Iron burns faeries.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.” You slipped the ring off of your finger and turned to chuck it somewhere into the tall grasses before turning back to him. “Does it hurt terribly?”

“No, I’m alright. It was just a bit of a shock, that’s all.” It was true, a small amount of contact like that didn’t do any lasting harm and he’d already completely recovered from it. He didn’t even seem all that bothered. If anything, he was only more interested in you and your strange manner.

“Okay, that’s good,” you trailed off, fidgeting with your sleeve, unsure of what to say. “Um, well, I’ll be going then. It was nice meeting you, Malleus. I like your wings.”  You hurried off before he could see the flustered expression on your face, walking swiftly through the swaying grass.

Malleus was surprised by your words, an expression of shock taking over his face as he watched you go. Once he finished processing what you said, he slipped into a soft smile. “It was nice meeting you, as well, Child of Man.”

a/n: not really new to Tumblr, but this is my first time posting/writing a fic. really don't expect anyone to actually see it lmao but I apologize if it's bad

[foxsdenofmuses]

"Hey, I ain't go nothing personal against ya, just calling ya out for getting on to be bout being reckless," Silas said having no real issue with Sonic, except maybe not actually finishing off Eggman, though that's been proven a harder task then one might think so can't hold that too much against the hedgehog. "Besides, most people aren't casually walking in the middle of the road and stick to the sides."

"As enlightening as this conversation has been, we have something else to do so we'll be going. I got a village to be lead to. It's what Surge wanted and Sonic has the directions so we're leaving." Kitsunami was now convinced that this village could hold answer's for him as well as Surge so best get there asap. Which meant chitchat had to be cut short.

"Yeah, that's where I came from. It's a few miles that way," Silas said, pointing behind him with his thumb. "And not to be a bother, but ya kinda wrecked my ride. Any chance I could get a lift from either you?" As much fun as a two hour walked sounded, he was up there in years. "Hope Kyle won't be too ticked the bus got scrapped. Only meant to borrow the thing."

===========================================================

"Truthfully I have grown rather bored now that I've explored most of what Mobius has to offer, several times over. Sol has far more ocean than Mobius, so I can't easily traverse it. Here, I can zip around the land several time's over in only a few days time so I ran out of things to do quickly." Blaze supposed she could've slowed down, though it wasn't often she got to stretch her legs so much. Running on water came with far too many risks. "So I wouldn't mind mentoring you and allowing you to take a moment to breathe"

Blaze's whole demeanor and expression hardened almost immediately upon her attention being brought to the G.U.N lawyer, easily dawning her professional side as she took a seat. "That is my hope to, provided you don't attempt to add more than what was agreed upon and don't attempt to have us change our mind. Please, seat." The princess spoke sternly, voice completely calm and perhaps even a bit icy as she stared down the lawyer.

===========================================================

"I'll still have Motobud with me, and I do intend to help any Badnik Eggman has left behind. I doubt G.U.N will be happy about that, though as long as I don't use them to do harm they can't do much." Belle has most perfected her Anti-Eggman Net signal, though the only problem she had was mass broadcast. Even then she was sure Eggman would swiftly adjust to get around it. Best keep it condensed until she reach's a point where Eggman can't do that.

"I still have some kinks to work out. Mainly with the extendo joints locking up doing certain actions. Though that's about the main issue, other than a few small programs to patch up and update." Belle was sure it wouldn't be too long before Belle-Bot was fully combat ready, though even then she only intends to use it against Metal Sonic, or in extreme emergencies. Here's hoping it can withstand whatever is thrown at it down the road.

"I guess if we have a moment to ourselves I suppose I can let you in on what I talked to Sonic privately about. I just didn't want to worry everyone else. I've been seeing Eggman for lunch every now and then. I'm kinda holding out home my father is still in there, a little bit at least. Though Eggman also seems to have some form of soft spot for me. Not sure if that's also because of Mr. Tinker or if Eggman is more complex than he let's on."

He placed his hands on the back of his head as he felt like he was getting ganged up on by both of them! But they weren't exactly wrong about him being reckless! but that was different! he was allowed to be, it was like his thing! he was always worried about people around him. He just threw his arms up like he was defeated and grumbled to himself.

" Well Excuse me for worrying about you... ya know its a habit--- comes with the territory. and i'm reckless because i have to be. Better i take that risk then someone else... "

Sonic just let the two talk and tried his best to stay out of the way. Kit didn't like him, and the old man seemed to have his issues to. You know you can save the world a dozen times and still get hated on! Sometimes he wished he never made that promise to his mom. But here he was...

But looked like the old timer knew both of them before starline jacked them up. That might be good, maybe if they remembered the past they'd mellow out more. Not that surge did but... hey he could hope!

================================================

Jewel smiled a bit, hearing Blaze have such confidence in her was a reassuring feeling. Despite how hard she worked she sometimes doubted herself. Tangle always knew how to remotivate her or, make her feel less like she's just in the way. She never wanted to be all of this but it fell into her lap in a way and she embraced it. Still she didn't expect so much stress or to feel so responsible for all of this that was happening.

" Thanks... sometimes i just... i never know if i'm doing enough or, if i'm just in the way. But you don't have to worry Princess... i don't intend on stepping down just yet. Not until this issue with gone is well behind us and i have someone to take my place at least for a while. you should be enjoying your vacation! though... we are very grateful you came to help "

The main door to the HQ slid open with Lanolin making her way in followed by a rather stumpy Pangolin with massive glasses, a suit and tie and a briefcase. He wore a GUN badge though he looked overly nervous about the two GUN soldiers who came in with him. Neither looked all that dangerous, and the Pangolin least of all. He reeked of Lawyer from the outset, and Lanolin looked like she wanted to yeet all of them into a wall!

" Princess, Director... this is Dexter the Lawyer sent by GUN with the paperwork. They do work fast don't they..."

The Round Pangolin adjusted his large glasses and glared up at Lanolin trying to decide if she was insulting him or complimenting him. Either way he held his briefcase in front of him trying to be as respectful as he could. He was probably not working for gun but just hired for legal briefs like this.

" Your Higness, Director, I'm Dexter Shi, of Empire City Legal. I'm here to deliver you legal documents, answer questions, and hopefully get this dire situation resolved. I hope we can work through this matter in a timely manor and resolve this issue. "

===============================================

Miles walked alongside Belle as he worked on his Miles electric making some much needed E-mails to his own legal team. His eyes turned to Belle as she seemed content to go off on her own even if GUN was watching her. He'd still feel better if someone else was watching out for her. But honestly he wasn't going to stand in her way at all.

" Guess it is hard to hide from people like GUN. All that money and nothing better to do then be paranoid. Still i'd feel better if you had someone around to back you up... no one is an island after all... not even sonic or myself despite how much Sonic would prefer that to be true. "

" I won't lie i'm a little impressed! well alot impressed... let's hope it stands up to the field tests going forward. I'm eager to see where each upgrade leads you! Might even have to watch myself or you'll be showing me up in no time! "

[arabella-syntax]

Between the Lines

Pairing: Leah Williamson x Y/N

Part 6

Summary: She’s Ellis to the world, Y/N to the ones who matter. Leah is captain, but never in control of what she felt for her.

Word count: > 15k

Parts: Read the previous updates here.

A/N: Almost to the end of the stretch. At this point, there’s so many directions I could have taken — winging it as I go along.

———————————————————————

Leah – London, Mid-January 2026

The reply came at 12:11 a.m. London time.

A single line, no emojis, no punctuation. Just her.

LA’s too bright…for someone who corners in the dark.

Leah read it once. Then again.

Then shut off her phone, placed it face-down, and just lay there.

Not crying. Not hurting.

Just feeling.

Like someone had finally pulled open a window after months of stale air.

She didn’t know how long she stared at the ceiling before her fingers moved again.

No thinking this time. No voice notes rehearsed and deleted.

Just the call button. FaceTime. Ringing.

Her heart was already halfway up her throat before Y/N answered.

The screen lit up in dim amber, warm tones and fuzzy textures.

Y/N’s hair was a tousled mess — fresh from sleep or something like it. Her shoulders were wrapped in a grey hoodie and her voice, when she spoke, was soft like seafoam.

“Hey.”

It was the first time Leah had heard it in months. Her real voice. Not recorded. Not cracked on lyrics.

She swallowed. “Hi.”

A beat.

Y/N tucked her hair behind one ear. “Didn’t think you’d call.”

Leah scratched the back of her neck. “Didn’t think you’d answer.”

Another breath, this one gentler.

There were so many things Leah wanted to say — to ask, to scream, to confess. But now that they were here, the words felt fragile. Unripe.

So instead, she… pivoted.

“You know,” she started, voice dry, “I got tackled by a sixteen-year-old last week. During a grassroots coaching session. Took me out like a human cannonball.”

Y/N blinked, then burst out laughing.

“Did you at least pretend it didn’t hurt?”

“I limped for three days. But yes. I said I was ‘stretching creatively.’”

She smiled then — that old sideways grin — and saw the exact second Y/N’s shoulders dropped an inch in relief.

————

They didn’t talk about the album. Not directly.

They didn’t talk about Switzerland or Sam or truths that arrived too late.

They talked about the things that orbit hurt without touching it.

Leah told her about Christmas with Amanda, David and Jacob — the vegan roast disaster, her mum’s attempts at TikTok, her brother’s new obsession with crypto.

Y/N talked about the ocean outside her window, the slow return of music in her chest, the weird café in Silver Lake that served “emotional support scones.”

Every now and then, they paused. Just… to look. To remember what the other’s face looked like, live and moving.

Leah could feel the ache somewhere beneath her ribs.

Not painful.

Just… known.

At some point, Y/N’s screen dimmed slightly — the hotel’s auto-lighting kicking in. She didn’t bother turning it back up.

Her eyes were half-lidded now. Not out of boredom — just the comfort of it all.

“You still play that stupid game with your cereal?” Y/N asked suddenly.

“What game?”

“The one where you pretend the Cheerios are players and you rotate the bowl depending on which side scores more milk coverage.”

Leah blinked. “I do not—”

“You did. Back in March.”

She smiled again. Quietly.

“Yeah,” Leah admitted. “I still do.”

Y/N let out a slow breath that sounded like something soft melting.

It wasn’t closure. Not yet.

Not forgiveness with bows or finality.

But it was a conversation.

A real one.

And for now, it was enough.

As the minutes crept into hours, neither said goodbye.

Eventually, Y/N just said:

“I should sleep.”

Leah nodded. “Yeah. Me too.”

They stayed on the call another five minutes in silence before one of them finally pressed end.

————

Leah didn’t sleep for a while.

She just lay back in the dark, phone on her chest, heart lighter.

Maybe for the first time in months, she didn’t feel like she was spinning.

Just… floating.

Somewhere between the wreckage and the rebuild.

Between what was lost and what might still be possible.

Between the lines.

————

Y/N – London, November 2026

London held a strange kind of gravity.

Every city on the tour had its pulse — Tokyo was neon and reverent, Sydney was sun-drenched and loud, Paris folded into itself like a silk scarf. But London?

London was personal.

A little haunted.

A little holy.

Y/N stood alone at center stage of the Eventim Apollo, her in-ears still hissing with static as the techs adjusted the feed.

“Camden,” she whispered into the mic.

A pause.

“Second chorus.”

The track queued. Her voice — or the version of her voice recorded months ago — spilled through the speakers. She sang along softly, mouth half-formed around words that still clung to her ribs.

I said I’d be fine with silence,

But you stayed in my lungs instead…

————

The rehearsal rolled on — light cues, mic transitions, acoustic guitar handoffs. Her team was efficient, professional. Olivia stood at the edge of the darkened seats, arms crossed, giving quiet thumbs-ups between notes.

But Y/N wasn’t really in the room.

Not fully.

She hadn’t seen Leah in person since Zurich.

Since that night — that kiss that felt like a page ripping in two.

But they’d spoken.

Casually. Softly. Slowly.

A month after her album dropped, she received a message that gutted her more than any review:

I heard it. That’s all. I heard it.

That was all Leah wrote. But it was enough.

Over the next few months, a rhythm formed. Not daily, not planned.

But real.

Sometimes just a text:

Did you see the moon tonight? It’s smug as hell.

Are you sleeping alright on tour buses or nah?

Random: do you still put your phone in the fridge when you’re mad at it?

Sometimes a voice note. One night, Y/N sent her a rough demo from Melbourne — a lyric half-finished and a laugh at the end when she messed up the bridge. Leah replied with a short “That’s beautiful. Don’t fix it too much.”

They didn’t talk about the past. Not directly.

But every message felt like stitching. Slowly, gently.

Now, standing in London again — her boots planted where so much once unraveled — Y/N couldn’t help but feel the tight coil of something inevitable.

————

Backstage was buzzing by mid-afternoon.

Hair and makeup. Lanyards. Pre-show rituals.

Y/N sat in the tall chair, her knees tucked up slightly, eyes half-closed as the stylist worked blush into her cheeks. Olivia appeared beside her, voice low but edged with warmth.

“Hey.”

Y/N opened one eye. “Tell me the ticket sales haven’t crashed.”

“No. Sold out. You’re fine.” Olivia smirked. “But we have company.”

Y/N tilted her head. “Who?”

“Alex and Jess. They’re here. Wanted to say hi.”

A jolt of something soft flared in her chest. “Of course.”

Alex Scott and Jess Glynne still looked disgustingly in love.

Jess hugged her first — a whirlwind of compliments and dry jokes. Alex was more subdued, but her hug lingered. Like maybe she remembered March too.

“You look tired,” Alex noted.

“Yeah,” Y/N laughed. “World tours do that.”

Small talk circled. Setlist chatter. Visual cues. Jess asked if Camden was always going to be the second song or if Y/N might one day lead with it.

Then Alex shifted.

Her voice softened. Her eyes turned serious.

“There’s someone else,” she said, almost too gently.

Y/N froze.

Alex continued, “She’s in a car. Just outside. Has been for twenty minutes.”

Y/N’s breath caught.

“She’s wanted to ask to see you for weeks. Since the tour started. But…” Alex shrugged. “She didn’t know how. So she asked me.”

Silence sat heavy between them.

Jess placed a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “We don’t want to push. You can say no.”

Y/N stared down at the palms of her hands.

They weren’t trembling.

For the first time in months, they weren’t trembling.

She looked up. Met Alex’s gaze.

And said:

“Yes.”

————

Leah – Eventim Apollo, London – November 2026

She’d been sitting in the car for twenty-four minutes.

Leah counted.

Not that she meant to — she wasn’t trying to be dramatic. But the digital clock on the dash had turned into something cruel. A countdown. A standoff. A question that hadn’t been answered yet.

Twenty-four minutes. And she still didn’t know if Y/N would come out.

Her hands were resting in her lap, fingers curled into themselves, her coat zipped halfway up even though the heater was on. She could hear the thump of distant bass through the brick walls. The crew moved in flashes outside the loading dock. Jess had texted a thumbs up. Alex, nothing since she went in.

Leah exhaled through her nose and whispered to herself,

“Don’t do this if you’re not ready.”

Only… she was.

Or maybe not. Maybe she was just tired of not being ready.

She glanced down at her phone again.

Still no message.

Still no update.

Still—

The side door opened.

Leah’s breath caught before she even looked up.

Y/N stood there. No glam, no lights, just her — hoodie sleeves rolled to the elbow, makeup still half-done. Hair a little messy from the pre-show rush. Her gaze was unreadable.

But she got in.

Quietly. Wordlessly. She slid into the passenger seat and closed the door behind her like she’d done it a thousand times. Like this was normal. Like it hadn’t been nearly a year since the last time they’d been this close.

Leah swallowed. “Hey.”

Y/N nodded. “Hey.”

Silence. Like the kind that happens after the shouting’s done. Like ash after fire.

Leah’s hand itched on the gear shift.

“You, uh…” she started. “You look tired.”

Y/N gave a small laugh. “World tour’ll do that.”

Leah turned to face her. “I listened to Camden last night.”

“I know.”

“It’s good.”

“Thanks.”

A beat.

Another.

Leah stared at the empty road in front of them. “I didn’t think you’d say yes.”

“Neither did I,” Y/N murmured. “But Alex said you were outside, and…”

“And?”

“And I didn’t want to be a coward again.”

That made Leah look at her properly. Really look.

The months had changed her — sharpened her jaw, softened something in her eyes. Still the same voice. Still the same girl who once left a voicemail about moonlight and apologised for it five seconds later.

Leah let the moment breathe.

“I wanted to ask for months,” she said finally. “But I figured… maybe I was part of the thing you were trying to outrun.”

Y/N didn’t answer.

Leah continued, quieter now. “That night. In Zurich. I know you lied.”

Y/N’s lips pressed together.

“I knew then. I know now.”

“I had to,” Y/N said, voice steady but low. “I didn’t want to hurt you more than I already had.”

“You still hurt me,” Leah said, a little sharper than she meant to.

“I know.”

“I would’ve kept the secret, you know. I never asked you to come out. I never—”

“I know,” Y/N cut in, finally meeting her eyes. “You never asked. But I knew what it meant for you. Being with me, in secret, again. That wouldn’t have been fair.”

Leah felt her throat tighten.

They sat in that shared grief for a while — of what was, what wasn’t, and what might’ve been.

Then, softly, Y/N added, “I’m not with Sam.”

“I figured.”

“We ended the PR arrangement months ago.”

“And the songs?”

Y/N inhaled through her nose. “All real.”

Leah blinked away whatever threatened to rise. “I heard them. I just… didn’t know if they were for me.”

“They were.”

Silence again — but this time not sharp. This time, it held possibility.

Outside, a gust of wind rolled leaves across the pavement. A guitar line echoed through the bricks. Leah turned off the engine.

“I missed you,” she said.

Y/N’s voice was almost a whisper. “Me too.”

They looked at each other. Eyes unguarded. Hands not quite touching.

Finally, Leah spoke, voice cracking just slightly:

“I’m tired of pretending I’m fine.”

And Y/N, blinking slowly, replied,

“Then don’t. Not tonight.”

————

Y/N — Eventim Apollo, London – November 2026

She closed the door quietly behind them.

No security detail. No stylists. No assistant calling out time stamps.

Just the soft click of the latch and the quiet hum of the old radiator in the corner.

Leah stood by the makeup table, eyes scanning the room like it held answers. It didn’t.

But it held a kind of calm.

Y/N turned, slowly. She didn’t know how to begin. The dressing room was warm but felt too big. Her hands rubbed the hem of her sweatshirt like it might anchor her.

Leah looked at her, patient, but not passive. There was something behind her eyes — not judgment, not anger, but something closer to sorrow.

Y/N started, her voice rough. “I didn’t know how much I needed to see you until I did.”

Leah didn’t say anything. Just nodded once.

Y/N let out a breath and sat down on the worn velvet sofa.

“I should’ve done a lot of things differently,” she said. “Zurich. Everything after. But I panicked. Not because of you — but because of everything that came with… being with you. Or being seen.”

She glanced up.

Leah hadn’t moved, but her arms were folded across her chest now, as if holding herself together.

“I signed a brand image and morality clauses,” Y/N continued. “When I was twenty-five. I’m bound not to do anything that contradicts the identity they built around me. You know, the polished, mysterious, ‘straight’ pop darling with heartbreaks that are just vague enough.”

A bitter smile tugged at her lips.

“I signed it because I thought I needed it. That I needed the machine. The reach. The illusion of control.”

Y/N looked up, throat dry. “But I’ve been drowning in it ever since.”

Silence.

Then she added, softly, “My contract ends next month.”

That made Leah blink. Her posture shifted, shoulders pulling back slightly.

“After the final show,” Y/N clarified. “After that, I’ll be free. And I know that’s unfair — asking you to wait. You shouldn’t have to.”

Leah’s voice was soft, but firm. “You think that’s what I care about?”

“No. But I care,” Y/N said. “You deserve more than someone who comes in and out of your life with smoke and music and excuses.”

She inhaled, slower this time.

“I’m not asking for forever. I’m just asking…” her voice faltered, “…if you can wait. A little longer. If you can bear that I’m still scared, but trying.”

Leah crossed the room. She didn’t speak right away. She just sat beside her, not touching, but close enough that Y/N could feel the warmth of her shoulder.

“It wasn’t about waiting,” Leah said eventually. “It was about not knowing if you ever wanted me to be part of your real life.”

Y/N met her eyes. “I always did.”

Leah’s lips curved, just slightly. “Even when you deleted my number?”

A soft laugh escaped Y/N’s chest. “Even then.”

Leah reached for her hand. Not forcefully — gently, like a quiet offer. Y/N took it.

It felt like breathing for the first time in months.

“I don’t need you to be perfect,” Leah whispered. “I just need you to be real.”

“I’m trying,” Y/N said. “I’m really trying.”

And then the space between them folded. Leah leaned in, just enough, eyes flickering to Y/N’s lips, her breath. Waiting for permission.

Y/N closed the gap.

It wasn’t the kind of kiss that set the world on fire. It was the kind that felt like home — like turning the key to a door you thought would always be locked. Slow. Unrushed. Honest.

When they pulled back, Leah rested her forehead against Y/N’s.

“No promises,” Y/N whispered.

“No need,” Leah replied. “We’re here. That’s enough.”

And it was.

For now.

————

Leah, November 2026, Camden, London

She hadn’t planned on staying.

Not after the show. Not after the kiss. But when Y/N looked at her backstage, lips parted in the shape of something that wasn’t quite a question but wasn’t quite silence either, Leah had simply nodded.

And stayed.

Y/N didn’t make a big deal of it. No dramatic ushering. No giddy declarations. Just a hand brushing Leah’s as she turned to head back out under the lights.

“Stay close,” she murmured, like a secret.

So Leah found herself behind the curtain, near a quiet cluster of cables and soundboards, the world just beyond the velvet. A place between light and dark — fitting, she thought.

She watched as the music came alive again. Y/N — Ellis, as the crowd knew her — was in full command, and yet somehow softer around the edges tonight. Her body moved the same way it always did, with deliberate grace and a hint of danger, but her voice… it carried a warmth Leah hadn’t heard before. Something rooted. Something real.

When the opening notes of “Truth Behind the Lies” played, Leah didn’t expect the sting behind her eyes. But it came anyway. She looked down, hands in the pockets of her coat, head bowed as if the lyrics might go easier on her that way.

They didn’t.

But she stayed.

————

Later that night, they took a car back to Camden. The Airbnb Olivia had arranged was tucked above a corner florist, its windows just fogged enough to blur out the world.

Leah sat at the kitchen island while Y/N moved around barefoot, hair tied up, hoodie two sizes too big — maybe Leah’s. There was no makeup. No curated image. Just the hush of late night and the sound of eggs cracking into a pan.

“Didn’t peg you for the breakfast-after-the-concert type,” Leah teased.

Y/N snorted. “Well, we burned too many dinners. Might as well try something I can manage.”

They ate on mismatched plates, with mugs that still smelled faintly of cinnamon tea. There wasn’t much talking — not at first. Just glances, small smiles, the kind of silence that isn’t heavy but whole.

Eventually, Y/N spoke.

“I meant what I said earlier,” she murmured. “About my contract. It ends after this tour. I’ve got five more shows. And then I’m free.”

Leah looked at her. “Free… to do what?”

Y/N shrugged, eyes fixed on her toast. “To start again. With the truth. Without hiding.”

She paused.

“I’m not asking you to wait. I know how unfair that is. I just… I needed you to know that what I did back then — the lie, the silence — it wasn’t because I didn’t care.”

“I know,” Leah said softly.

“I thought I was protecting what I built. But really, I was just keeping myself from living any of it.”

She looked up.

“I wanted to be Ellis, the artist. But I forgot how to be Y/N, the person.”

Leah reached for her hand.

“You never forgot. You just got a bit… lost in the middle.”

Y/N smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said. “If it’s too much. If it’s not what you want anymore.”

Leah took a breath. “I wanted you then. I want you now. That’s not the problem.”

Y/N’s voice dipped. “Then what is?”

“I’m just afraid,” Leah admitted. “That we’ll always be looking over our shoulders. That something will break again.”

Y/N nodded.

She exhaled slowly, then added, “Me too. But I’m tired of letting fear run the show.”

There was a quiet between them, neither heavy nor empty — just a pause long enough to feel like something shifted.

Leah stood and reached for her coat.

Y/N walked her to the door, fingers brushing against Leah’s wrist as they stopped just shy of goodbye.

“Thank you,” Y/N whispered.

“For what?”

“For staying.”

Leah leaned in, forehead resting against hers.

“You asked,” she murmured. “And I finally heard you.”

They didn’t kiss again. Not tonight.

But something passed between them — something warmer, firmer than promises. A beginning.

And as Leah stepped out into the quiet Camden street, the air brisk against her skin, she realised breakfast had never tasted more like home.

————

A/N: I swear, next update will be the last for Between the Lines. I think Leah and Y/N has suffered through a lot of emotional roller coasters. Feedback much appreciated. 

[marlynnofmany]

The Heat Outside the Box

The temperature at this spaceport was sweltering. I didn’t know how the ships weren’t melting where they stood. Maybe the captain would want to take us up for a jaunt through the chilly upper atmosphere before heading out to the vacuum of space; some alpine heights sounded pretty nice right now. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stick my head out a window on a spaceship in flight, but I could imagine. And that was keeping me going.

At least we had shade. It was from a singularly huge leaf on an alien plant, but it would do. I stood squarely in that shade next to Mur, who seemed pretty ambivalent about the sauna-on-max weather conditions. He probably would have cared more if it was a dry heat, since he would have had to worry about his tentacles drying out.

Paint, on the other hand, was actually enjoying this, because of course she was. She stood in the full sun, soaking up the heat on her orange scales, occasionally sighing happily.

“This is so nice,” she said. “The ship’s warm enough to get by, but I’ve missed proper heat.”

Mur waved a blue-black tentacle between the sun and the shade. “I like the moisture content of the air,” he admitted. “It is pretty nice.”

I stood there dripping sweat and flapping my shirt for some hint of a breeze. “For you,” I said.

Paint cocked her head up at me. “Why is your— Right, I forgot humans did that. It looks unpleasant. Doesn’t it get your clothes wet?”

I nodded, still flapping. “Yes and yes.”

“But it cools you down, right?”

“Only if there’s a breeze,” I told her. “Otherwise it’s just an added layer of discomfort.”

“Oh, that’s what you’re doing,” Paint said, pointing a claw. “I wondered.”

Mur pointed a tentacle in a different direction. “You’ll be back in ship temperatures soon enough. That has to be the customer.”

I followed where he was pointing to see a Strongarm slightly smaller than he was, colored in a lighter shade of blue that showed the dust that hadn’t been fastidiously wiped off. The most notable difference, though, was that while Mur would have been carrying the brown package, this person was dragging it. It didn’t even look that heavy.

I glanced at Mur. Even from above, I could see his scowl. He didn’t say anything, though. It wouldn’t do to badmouth a customer, even such a poor representative of the species as this.

Paint whispered, “I thought there were supposed to be more packages than one?”

Mur said, “We’ll ask.”

I wiped my face and hoped we wouldn’t have to wait for somebody else to bring the rest. If we did, I was going to volunteer to take the first box back to the ship and stay there.

When the other Strongarm got close enough, Mur moved forward with an official greeting and a thankfully temperature-resistant datapad. He handled the conversation. That was great, since I didn’t have to leave the shade of that one glorious leaf. Paint stepped up to accept the box while Mur was handling data entry and discussing the missing packages.

Yes, there were supposed to be more. No, the customer didn’t have them ready after all. Was there any chance of a discount for delivery, since we wouldn’t be dealing with as many? Nope. We were still making the same trip. Mur was firm on that.

Thankfully for all our sakes, the customer didn’t feel like arguing about it. Soon enough, those dusty blue tentacles were waving goodbye and plopping along back down the walkway. Mur turned off the datapad. Paint brushed dirt off the box.

I rubbed away sweat dripping down my neck, and pointed toward the ship. “Shall we?”

They both fell in behind me, and I led the way, grateful for any kind of breeze. It was a pity they weren’t as long-legged as I was, but even this faint bit of air was an improvement.

Mur grumbled something that sounded like “Disgrace to the species.”

I didn’t comment, busy breathing.

Paint turned the box over with quiet taps of her claws. “Look, the tape isn’t even sealed down all the way! They’re lucky we aren’t going to toss this somewhere it’ll get caught and pulled loose.”

“Typical,” said Mur.

I looked back at it. The thing was a surprisingly Earthlike cardboard-type box, and the packing tape was the paper stuff. I asked, “Is that the kind that’s activated by water?”

Paint tried to press it down and failed. “I think so. It’s not sticky.”

I squinted at the distance still to walk, then stopped and held out my hands. “Gimme. I’ll fix it.”

Paint lifted it towards me. “How? I wouldn’t recommend licking—”

I grabbed the box, wiped my sweaty forearm on the tape, then smoothed it down with a damp palm. Perfect. “Done,” I said, handing it back. “If you don’t mind, I need a drink of water. See you back onboard.” I took long-legged strides toward the ship.

Behind me, Mur was laughing.

I heard Paint mutter, “Do you think that’s sanitary?”

Mur said, “I don’t think this customer would care in the slightest. And that’s a risk they run in being that late, then giving a package to a species that gets damp in the heat.”

~~~

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

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

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

[evecolourshock]

I have an AU now

:)

Beck furrows his brow in concentration, putting the final touches on Bodhi's project together.

It's... bittersweet. Bodhi should have been the one finishing it. Bodhi should have been the one taking it for a test run, tuning it to hijack broadcasts and override propaganda. Bodhi's should be the voice sending quips and taunts through the airwaves, turning his formidable mind and acerbic comments - and fists - on the ones that deserve to be sent tumbling out of power.

Not Beck. Not the guy always a little too slow.

Beck shakes his head, checking power levels. No, he's no fighter. Not like Bodhi.

But he can do this.

"Testing, testing..." Beck hums, hearing his own voice be warped into Bodhi's voiceprint. It's the best he can do, using his dead best friend's voice to hopefully inspire a legacy. "One. Two. Three."

His pilfered output crackles back at him, but Bodhi's voice comes through sure and strong, just like it would have in life. Beck dashes away a tear - should be Bodhi doing this for real-

It isn't. Will never be. So Beck's going to do his best.

His library of random sounds rises out of his desk, stolen from Archives long since burned to the ground. His music collection, much the same - Beck has no idea what most of it sounds like, who it came from, but there's a lot of it and he intends to play it all. Thieving the files took him most of a system cycle, racing to filch each track before it could be deleted, staying one step ahead as much as he could. Baffling authorities, and infuriating them, leaving glitter as his calling card despite how easy one mistake would make him to track.

Beck had visions of doing something showier, once. Bombs and combat, sabotage and thievery, playing dress-up as a hero long disappeared. Avenging Bodhi more... directly.

He shakes his head ruefully. Him, impersonating the legendary Tron? What a joke. Someone like that wouldn't even look in the direction of an inexperienced mechanic like Beck. If Tron's even still online.

Beck's not keen on finding out how quickly he can get himself derezzed, anyway.

It takes him the better portion of the late shift to put together a couple of announcements he's happy with, amusing himself by splicing together as many sounds as he can. Making something messy, chaotic, an assault on audial input as much as it is an actual introduction.

It takes longer than that for him to find what songs he wants to use for the first hijack. Some of them are... not old, exactly, but the bouncier ones of Able's youth, both Program and User music - maybe Flynn himself used to listen to them, Beck doesn't know. Some of them are loud, full of screams and howls and vicious rumbles that threaten to burst Beck's own audial inputs - let alone anyone else's. And some of them are new, mostly from Purgos and their more... anarchist inhabitants, aggressive and inflammatory and protesting everything Beck hates too.

Beck, hating things. If someone had told him he'd feel that so strongly a system cycle ago, Beck would have called them glitched in the processor.

But eventually, Beck's as ready as he'll ever be. Music queued up, announcement ready to go, a network of surveillance units he definitely shouldn't know how to make feeding him information to encode and disseminate. Someone has to, and he's already breaking multiple laws that will see him killed if caught - one more bit of treason won't make any difference.

The dial-up beep starting his first hijack makes Beck smile. "Here we go." He murmurs quietly, before grabbing his microphone. "Processes and paradoxes, welcome to the show!" Beck crows, knowing the whole Grid will be hearing Bodhi's voice loud and clear on this new channel Bodhi first sculpted into being. "You're listening to One Oh Two Point Two - Renegade FM." He grins, letting one of his spliced-together soundbytes play. "Bringing the hottest sounds of the Grid right to your ears. This is not your Uncle Tesler's station - or your Uncle Clu's, for that matter!" Beck laughs, jeering at the forces he's learned to despise. He hits play on a song at somewhat random, and settles back to enjoy himself.

Tron jolts, accidentally stumbling across a new channel. He tends to keep an eye on - or, an ear out for - any propaganda so he can counter it accordingly, but this-

This isn't that.

This is something else.

Someone new has entered the field.

He listens attentively - they're young, whoever they are. The voiceprint is artificial, a sophisticated piece of encoding Tron would struggle to deconstruct if he felt the need - even with all his specialist equipment for doing exactly that. It still can't hide the tonal inflection of youth, the unique sentence structure and references inherent to betas coming through so clearly.

The music has him barking a laugh unexpectedly - he more than remembers Flynn belting that one out when halfway overcharged, much to Clu's dismay. The announcements are quippy, snappy, encoding valuable intel in seemingly inane yet brutal commentary.

Tron checks the broadcast name - Renegade FM, huh? He's going to have to remember this one.

*Accessing archived data*

YOU'RE NOW LISTENING TO

*Disc powering up SFX*

102.2

*intense light cycle noises*

RENEGADE FM

*flynn_yeah.wav* *vine boom SFX* *airhorn sound*x3

BRINGING THE HOTTEST SOUNDS OF THE GRID

*Wilhelm scream* *guy derezzing into cubes SFX*

RIGHT TO YOUR EARS

*bit_saying_yes.wav*x3 *air raid SFX*

THIS IS NOT YOUR UNCLE TESLER'S STATION

*"Only Solutions" by Journey starts playing*

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 + 𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄: 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄

𝐑𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈

“hey, reo, i’m hungry.”

reo’s ears perked up as he snapped his head back, placing his pencil down instantly. “you are? okay, so we have a variety of restaurants near and inside of the building. italian, chinese, traditional japanese, american—“ reo began excitedly.

“i don’t really care which one.” nagi cut him off. “ah, i died.” his video game screen displayed a wide “game over” as nagi looked out of reo’s extraordinarily large windows at the much smaller buildings circling the mikage corporation headquarters.

“okay then! so italian food is basically…” as reo continued to ramble, nagi bought more lives using his in game gems and continued to play. what reo was talking about was far too complicated and annoying for him to understand, so he opted to just not think too hard about it.

“reo, that sounds so complicated. let’s just have buldak.” nagi drawled, yawning. reo furrowed his eyebrows.

“you want to eat that spicy children ramen from online? over well made and freshly served international cuisines?” reo asked, shaking his head. “oh well. if you want it, then…but we don’t have any in here right now, so we’ll need to go to the 7/11 nearby.”

“what a hassle…” nagi stated. “let’s go then.” he stood up, continuing to click and tap on his console, and walked out of the room. reo followed him from behind closely.

“what’s your favorite flavor? any particular way you like to eat it? how many packs do you want? i can buy it for you.” reo began as they both entered the elevator.

nagi hummed. “all of them are fine. i don’t really care; whatever’s not a hassle. i don’t know. okay.” they both reached the ground floor and walked out of the illuminatingly bright building and into the 7/11 just a few buildings away.

“i don’t come here often…” reo muttered, glancing around at the plastic lights. nagi clicked away, walking straight to the ramen section and taking the first flavor that his hand reached—the original flavor. reo took the same.

“this looks really spicy. are you really fine with eating this stuff?” reo asks, taking their ramen cups and paying for them. nagi hummed, going to the back of the store to pour boiling water into his cup and dunked in nearly the entire bag of sauce.

“i’ve never had these before,” reo commented. he glanced at nagi, who only continued to tap away at his console.

“wow, you really miss out on a lot of things.” nagi said in monotone. “isolating reooooo.” finally, the ramen was ready, and nagi finished his cup nearly immediately. “reo, are you not going to eat yours?”

reo picked at the noodles for a good minute before hesitantly slurping a few strands. his eyes widened. “it’s…not too bad.” suddenly, his eyes narrowed. “but it’s so spicy.”

“yep.” reo wasn’t particularly fond of it, although it wasn’t as bad as he thought. he glanced over at nagi, and his eyes softened. he certainly wouldn’t want to have with again, but…

how could he ever say no to nagi?

𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐄

“hey genius, what’s your least favorite food?”

sae spared shidou a single glance after the u20 japan meeting. “french fries.” he stated blandly, slinging his bag over his shoulder. he walked out of the room, shidou following him closely behind.

“really? those taste good. they make me explode late at night.” shidou commented. sae didn’t look at him, although he did reply.

“they’re deadly delicious, but also deadly unhealthy for my body.” sae muttered. shidou whistled, taking his arm and walking in an entirely different direction. “hey, what’s the fuck—?”

“alright, genius! we’re going to mcdonalds!”

sae doesn’t know how he ended up in this situation, but he’s sitting across from shidou in plastic red and yellow chairs at mcdonalds, watching as shidou devours a kids meal and a large order for fries in front of sae. “i’m not eating this.”

“you are!”

“i’m not.”

“you are!”

“i’m not!”

“you are!”

“this is pointless.” sae sighed, picking up a fry and inspecting it like a detective with a piece of evidence. “and this is dangerously unhealthy.”

“boo. have some fun for once, genius.” shidou picked up a fry and placed it near sae’s mouth. “c’mon, genius. open wideeeee.” sae narrowed his eyes, slapping shidou’s hand away.

“creep. go scare the kids or something.”

“c’mon genius; just one. one single fry.” shidou shook the fry in front of sae’s face. he backed away.

“no. ew. get away from me.” sae murmured. “i’m done here. i’m leaving.” he stood up, ready to get out of his chair.

“genius, if you eat this single fry, i’ll stop bothering you.” shidou shook the fry around, and sae huffed once more. he used a napkin to wipe off all specs of the salt on the fry and shoved it into his mouth to get it over with.

shidou whistled. “see! it wasn’t that hard!” sae gave him a side eye.

“you’re paying.” sae deadpanned. watching as sae left, shidou wolfed down the rest of his food within seconds and chased after him, jumping onto sae’s back.

sae narrowed his eyes. “creep.” he shoved him down, and almost immediately, every single customer at the mcdonalds had their eyes on them.

“see, told ya this would be fun!” shidou wooed.

“i hate you.”

@narcjsistx ml❤️❤️❤️