#and IMMEDIATELY went 'oh shit I need to change the sign NOW'

[incorrectpnatquotes]

[The Sphinx of Rules is sitting by a sign by his bridge that says, "He or She may not cross my bridge."] Ed: *starts walking towards the bridge* Sphinx of Rules: *crosses out 'He or She' and changes it to 'They'* Ed: *running back to the Activity Club* GUYS, I CAN'T CROSS THE SPHINX OF RULES' BRIDGE ANYMORE! Isabel, Isaac, and Max, collectively: NOOOOO!!!!

[nathaslosthershit]

Tiny Notes (OP81)

Summary: Oscar was dying, sitting in his first business meeting after signing with Mclaren. Luckily, a pretty girl his age sat right next to him, and she was certainly not in the mood to pay attention to the meeting.

A/n: I think this is one of my most favorite things I’ve written- it was originally the start to my Franco fic (coming tomorrow) but early on I got the idea to change it to Oscar and went from there. Hope you all enjoy 🫶

Neither Oscar nor the eldest Webber daughter wanted to be at the meeting. Actually Miss. Webber herself would argue that there was no reason for her to be there as she didn’t have an official role at Mclaren. But when her grown adult father pouted like a little kid when she said she’d rather eat her own eyes than sit through a 2 hour long meeting with him just because he ‘wants to spend some time with his first mini me’, she stupidly gave in. Now, as she yawned for the 5th time in the past… god, 6 minutes, she could see her dad wearing a shit eating grin while watching her die of boredom. 

Even as a father, Mark Webber could be such an asshole. 

Oscar didn’t know why he was at this meeting. He knew he had to be there, he had just signed a contract to join Mclaren for the upcoming season, but he didn’t know why they needed him there, especially since he couldn’t understand half the words these businessmen were talking about. Assets? Net Loss? He was just here to drive cars.

Maybe he would have figured out the significance of the meeting, if there hadn’t been a beautiful girl his age sitting right next to him. He had already gotten used to the idea that the Mark Webber was his manager, who currently sat across from him, but now he was expected to pay attention when he was next to an attractive girl?

The meeting might have been boring, but Oscar couldn't say his first day at Mclaren hadn’t been memorable. 

“Isn’t that right, Oscar?” The man standing in the front of the room talking asked. Oscar just looked around, hoping he wan’t the Oscar they were talking to, but when everyone stared at him expectantly, he knew he was fucked. 

“I’m sorry, I didn-”

“It is alright,” The businessman laughed, “I was just saying we were honored to sign a new driver for our second seat, and that he seems very promising, isn’t that right?”

“Oh! Yes, I am good.” Everyone laughed at that, but Oscar hadn’t meant it as a joke. He hadn’t meant it in a egotistical way, he was just being nice by agreeing with the man speaking. 

Luckily, the meeting moved on and Oscar could slouch in his chair and try to disappear and die from embarrassment. 

He thought he was out of the clear, that everyone had forgotten about him and he wouldn’t need to speak for the rest of the… hour and a half. This meeting was brutal.

That was until someone nudged Oscar’s leg and he looked up from his hands in his lap to see the girl next to him had pushed the notebook in front of her over.

Have you been paying attention?

Oscar panicked, he hadn’t meant to make his inattention that obvious.

Instead of picking up the pen, he looked at her and nodded his head, hoping his face was calm and convincing her he had been listening

She was not fooled.

She knew who Oscar was, even before he had been introduced. They hadn’t met formally, her dad didn’t want them to meet after she made a joke about how grateful she is to see that Formula 1 has a ‘hot new boy toy’. She was obviously kidding, or at least she tried to convince her dad that she was. 

It's okay, I’m not either, she wrote again, pushing the pen towards him hoping he would reply and give her something to do while this meeting dragged on. 

I don’t know what they are talking about, Oscar replied, regretting it immediately, not wanting to come across as an idiot to her.

She laughed and Oscar felt his heart flutter at the sound. 

She was in the middle of replying that she didn’t know any of it either, when her dad waved his hand at them, grabbing both the young adults’ attention. 

‘At least act like you care, and stop writing to each other!’ he mouthed to them.

Oscar gulped and began to sweat a little, but the girl next to him just rolled her eyes and made an indecent gesture. She’s got guts, he had to give her that. 

But Mark didn’t do anything but try to conceal his laughter, somehow he wasn’t mad at the girl for disrespecting him. 

She began to pick up the pen when Oscar grabbed her hand to stop her, mouthing ‘he said we can’t’

He didn’t want his manager getting mad at him. 

Meanwhile Mark Webber’s eldest daughter loved to annoy her dad, but she knew he loved it too.

“He didn’t say anything about tic-tac-toe” she whispered softly into Oscar’s ear, giving him goosebumps and sending a chill down his spine. That shouldn’t have affected him as much as it did.

Get a grip, Piastri.

So they played tic-tac-toe, and other stupid games to pass the time, until it was finally the moment they were all dismissed from the meeting. 

Both the young adults actually groaned when they realized the meeting was over. 

Oscar didn’t get time to say anything to the girl as his teammate, Lando Norris, came up to have a quick chat. He liked Lando, he really did, but his timing was terrible.

Luckily, the brit could see Oscar was anxious to leave, and he could see who was making him anxious.

“Ohhhhhh, interesting choice, Piastri. Out of everyone you set your eyes on her? Good luck with that, mate.” Lando laughed as he patted Oscar on the back.

What the hell did he mean by that?

She had been waiting for her dad to grab something from his office, but she was also kind of possibly waiting for Oscar to come out of the room. When she looked over and saw Lando was the reason he was being held up, she scoffed.

Leave it to Norris to cockblock her. 

She turned around, not wanting to get caught staring, and impatiently tapped her foot as she waited for her dad to come back. No sooner than she saw him walking as slowly as he could down the hallway, which he was doing because he saw how impatient she was, she got a tap on her shoulder. 

“I just- wanted to say thanks for keeping me sane during the meeting.” Oscar said. “Oh uh, I’m Oscar, I'll be driving for the team next year.” He said awkwardly as he stuck his hand out.

Was it rude to imply she didn’t know who he was, or rude to assume she did?

“I know who you are, Oscar.” She laughed, shaking his hand. “I probably know more about you than 99% of that room.”

That confused him. “Can I at least get your name the-”

“Oscar, what was rule number one when I became your manager?” Mark Webber said, scaring the two of them as he snuck up behind the girl.

Shit, “Uh, don’t bring up Multi 21,” he replied, realizing he had just broken that rule by bringing it up. 

The girl giggled at that, and Oscar felt his heart stop. He also felt a blush creep on his face, one that Mark too saw and by his frown, Oscar could tell he disapproved.

“No- well yes, but the other big rule.”

“If I meet any of you or other racing drivers’ daughters, I am not allowed to flirt or befriend or speak or look or breathe near any of them.” Oscar didn’t understand why that needed to be a rule but he thought fighting Mark on it wouldn’t go well. 

“Damn, two rules broken on your first day, Piastri?” The girl laughed.

“What?” Was all he replied. Then he connected the dots. The glares and looks shared between the girl and Mark, her being able to flip him off and him not getting offended by it, the fact they walked in together.

Mark and his eldest daughter could see as Oscar reached his conclusion.

“Fuck I’m- I didn’t know that- Well you see-” There was no getting out of this.

Thankfully, Mark just laughed, “it’s alright buddy, just never speak to her ever again.” Oscar shuddered at the way his manager’s expression grew darker at the end of his sentence.

The two Webbers walked away from the young driver, arguing or joking with each other, Oscar couldn’t tell, when a paper slipped out of the girl’s hand. 

Oscar picked it up and went to tell her she had dropped it, when he saw what was written on it.

Don’t listen to him, he is an overprotective ass ;)

How had she known ahead of time that her Dad would disapprove? Before he could question it further, he flipped the note to see her number was written on the back. 

Thank god he was forced to be at that useless meeting.

[firesunflamed]

give it to me

relationship: Frank Castle x Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: You come home after a terrible, frustrating day at work. Luckily, Matt and Frank give you exactly what you need

warnings: NSFW, porn without plot, no use of y/n, established relationship, pet names used for reader: sweetheart, good girl, good little slut, brat!reader, sex toys, oral (m and f receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, light bondage, light dom/sub, objectification kink, light praise kink, some aftercare, cum-eating. You and Frank are kind of mean to each other but some of it's consensual and you apologize for what's not.

word count: 4.8k

a/n: happy national genocide day to everyone who's forced to deal with their shitty family today. i hope this helps you decompress lmao.

read it on ao3

Your day had been shit, and when you walked into the door of the apartment you shared with your partners, you wanted nothing more than to relax, to forget your day and let the weekend sweep away your stress.

“Sweetheart?” Frank called as you entered, and you toed off your shoes next to Matt’s before walking deeper into the apartment.

“Hey,” you called, and your voice sounded exhausted even to you.

“Dinner’ll be ready in an hour or so,” he said as you walked into the living space. “Go ahead and get changed, yeah?”

You nodded, even though he was facing away from you, and went to drop your work bag on the kitchen table when you found it covered in guns.

You knew about their work, loved them for how they kept the city safe as possible at their own expense. You knew that cleaning and fixing his firearms was part of that work. But you’d made it a policy that all weaponry had to be cleared from the kitchen table by the time you got home from work, thanks to one night a year ago when you’d gotten home and almost immediately sat down to dinner, only to pick up your napkin from the table and find gunpowder on it.

Frank was typically good at remembering. Still, seeing this now, after your already shitty day, turned frustration to anger. You meant to tell him, kindly, to please clean off the table before you sat down to dinner. Instead, what came out of your mouth was, “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Frank put something in the oven then turned around to face you, face only just betraying his surprise. “What?”

You gestured angrily at the mess on the table. “What’s my rule? What’s my one fucking rule?”

“Yeah, I know, I was gonna clear it off once I got food in the oven. Got started a little late, and the lasagna takes an hour.”

“Dinner’s not even for another hour? Great!” you said rudely, already so hungry. “What were you even doing all day?” Frank didn’t work, not in the same sense as you and Matt. Though you’d never discussed it formally, he typically took care of most of the household tasks, and you were so grateful that it didn’t all fall to you. Now, though, you were pissed.

“Lost track of time,” he said, slowly, looking at you in confusion. “What, you want a snack?”

And you knew it was an apology, and a genuine offer. Still, all you heard in his voice was the condescension you’d just been subject to at work.

“Oh fuck off,” you snapped. “I’m not a child.”

He held up his hands in defense. “Never said you were, sweetheart.” He moved a step closer. “You alright?”

“Fine.” You turned to go to the bedroom to change, but Matt walked out at the same time, already out of his work clothes.

He walked closer to you, stopping a few feet away, head tilting. You knew he’d heard everything you’d just said, knew he’d clocked your mood just as well as Frank. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said gently. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Yeah?” he said, moving close enough to touch. His eyebrows were knit, mouth slightly open, and you knew he was trying to use every sign your body was giving to figure out what was wrong. “How was work?”

You didn’t want to think about work. You didn’t want to think.

“Fuck off,” you said, trying to find a way around him, but he reached out and grasped your upper arms, stopping you.

“I don’t think you want that,” he said, voice as gentle as his grasp.

You set your jaw, looked up at him. You could only imagine your expression was what Frank had once joked could scare off the people he and Matt went after before they got close enough to land a hit. You had the same rage under your skin as they did, just didn’t have the training or pain tolerance necessary to be a vigilante alongside them. It was part of what made your relationship work.

Matt stepped closer when you didn’t push him away, until your bodies brushed. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he said. “Tell me you don’t want this. We can go to the gym, and you can hit something until you feel better. Hit me, if you want.”

You stayed silent, still watching him, the soft hazel of his eyes, the pretty red of his lips. He reached up to cradle your cheek in his hand, thumb brushing across your lips. Then he leaned in, close enough to kiss. “Color?”

“Green,” you said, all certainty, and pulled him in. Your lips moved together as you pushed your body flush against his.

He tried to reach out to unzip your dress, but you were impatient, pushing down his sweatpants and his boxers, then pushing him to sit on the couch behind you both. You straddled him, pushing up the skirt of your dress as you did, grinding against his half-hard cock.

“Sweetheart,” he said against your mouth, breaths already coming fast. “How do you want this, tonight?”

“I don’t want to think anymore,” you said, trying to keep that anger in the face of the pleasure that shot through you at his touch. “Make it so I can’t think anymore.”

“Fuck,” Frank muttered from somewhere behind you, and you were only just aware of him moving to lean against the table and watch you both.

Matt agreed with him, groaning. “Okay,” Matt said. “Alright. I have to take off your underwear. Lean back on the couch.”

You didn’t want to, didn’t want to lose the skin contact, the feeling of his now fully-erect cock against your cunt. “Make me,” you said, and he grabbed your hips and half-pushed, half-lifted you so you lay on your back on the couch, him looming above you. He pulled off your panties, tipped you on your side to unzip and pull off your dress, then rid himself of his clothes before bracing one arm on the armrest behind you, another on the back of the couch, and positioning the head of his cock at your entrance.

He pushed it against you a few times, wanting to make sure you were wet enough. You hadn’t taken so much as a finger inside of you yet, and you knew that he didn’t want to hurt you. Not like this. Not without you asking for it. “Sweetheart, is it-”

“What are you waiting for?” you snapped. “Hurry up and fuck me.” The position made it hard, but you wrapped your legs around his waist, used them as leverage to bring him closer.

“Okay, okay,” he gasped, then sunk in with a groan, face going loose in pleasure. Typically, seeing how good you made him feel would’ve gotten you halfway to orgasm, but now it wasn’t enough, wasn’t near enough. You moved your hips against him, taking him in until he filled you.

Your mind went blessedly blank for a moment, but it didn’t last nearly long enough. You began moving against him again, angling your hips so his cock brushed along your g-spot with every thrust.

The feeling forced a low oh out of you, and Matt murmured, “you sound so pretty, sweetheart. Love hearing how good I make you feel.” But it was nice, and good, and not at all what you wanted. You wrapped your hands around his biceps, feeling the corded muscle there, and sped up your pace.

“Hey,” Frank said, and you looked around Matt’s lithe frame to see him watching you. The only indication that he was affected by the scene before him was the erection prominent against his jeans. “Don’t be a brat. You’ll take what you’re given.”

“I wouldn’t have to be a brat if Matt fucked me properly,” you said, and Matt seemed to remember himself and your request at both your words, picking up his pace, with deep, harsh thrusts, grunting with each movement. You moaned and moved your hands from his biceps, no longer needing the leverage it gave you, and dug your nails into his powerful back muscles. It chased the thoughts to the back of your head only temporarily, and then they came creeping back in, telling you that you were useless, powerless, not even capable of taking charge in the bedroom, much less a boardroom.

You used the leverage of your legs to try to bring Matt down, try to flip him onto his back. He let you move him so you were on top, let you brace your hands against his shoulders and ride him with abandon. “Guess I have to take care of everything myself,” you said. You grabbed one of Matt’s hands and put it on your clit. “Get me off,” you ordered, and he began playing with it, knowing in the way he always did that this was what you needed. You rarely took the reins in the bedroom, but he admitted once that he loved when you did. Obediently, he played with your clit, finding the rhythm that had you moaning, and you fucked yourself on his cock like it was a toy until you felt your orgasm cresting. “Fill- me-“ you gasped, and came with a low noise. He kept up the movements of his hips and his fingers through your aftershocks, spilling within you with a pretty moan.

You rested against him for a moment, eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of completeness as you both caught your breath.

Then arms reached for you, dragging you off of him. “You’re too nice to her, Red,” Frank said as he threw you over his shoulder and walked you to the bedroom. “Good sluts need to be ordered around, yeah?”

Typically, you would’ve said yes in an instant, would’ve let him take charge. You liked being the one to control Matt every now and then, but that was easy, with how pretty he was, the way he so rarely let his rage loose with you. Frank was different. Outside of the bedroom, he would never try to control you, rarely even raised his voice. It was only when you were naked beneath him that he let the need to possess, to claim, run loose.

But now, you were still tired from the day and overstimulated from how hard you had just fucked Matt. “Wait, Frank…”

He dropped you roughly on the bed. “If you’re talking, you’re thinking, yeah? Said you didn’t want that.” He unbuttoned his pants, pushing them off, and you moved up to your elbows to watch his erection spring free, head already pink and tip weeping. You felt that telltale dip of attraction in your stomach. Still, you couldn’t let go of control that easily.

“I don’t see how you think you’re gonna be able to fuck me any better than Matt,” you snipped, and he pulled back from where he had begun to crawl on the bed. “We both know he’s better than you.”

His expression turned hard, and when he spoke next it was low, angry. You had him right where you wanted him. “Get up,” he said, and you pushed yourself off the bed to stand next to him. He pointed at his feet. “Get on your knees.”

“No.”

He let lose an angry breath. “Come home, giving me shit. Ask for us to fuck you, still giving me shit. You need a fucking attitude adjustment.”

“I need another orgasm. Sucking you off isn’t going to do it.”

“You get what I’m giving you. You want to come again, stop misbehaving.” He spun you around by the hips, wrapped an arm around your waist then kicked your legs out from beneath you. He set you on your knees, and you steadied yourself on the edge of the bed. He moved to sit down on the bed and buried a hand in your hair before moving your mouth closer to the tip, pushing it against your lips and then inside.

You did your best to glare at him through the stretch of it, through the way his eyes went half-closed in pleasure, through his grunts. It was hard to stay mad when you had to focus on relaxing your jaw, on breathing around the thick length of him. It was even harder staying mad, knowing that you were making him feel this good. Feeling your own body react to being used like this, a tool for his pleasure.

Still, after a minute or so you pulled back, sucking and licking just on the head of his cock before letting him go altogether. His eyes snapped back open, and he glared at you. “What’re you doin’?” he said. “Didn’ say you were done.”

You began to stand. “I said I’m done.”

He pushed you back down by your shoulders. “Red,” he said, and you turned, realized that Matt must’ve stepped into the bedroom while you’d been going down on Frank. He now sat, still naked, on the extra chair in the corner of the room. “Grab me the ties. Guess she needs some extra encouragement to do as she’s told tonight.”

You watched from your knees as Matt smiled, then walked over to the top drawer of your dresser and pulled out the silk ties. “And grab me the vibrator, too,” Frank said. “The pink one.”

Matt threw an unimpressed look over his shoulder. “Which one?”

“C’mon. You know. The one for her clit that she likes.”

Your breath caught as you realized what Frank was planning, and Matt chuckled. “Oh, she liked that,” Matt said, and walked over to you. He set the vibrator on the bed then knelt, tying your wrists together behind you. You glanced between the vibrator and Frank’s cock. You didn’t use toys often but kept a small handful for when life got in the way, and for moments like this. The one Matt had grabbed was your favorite, capable of making you come in ninety seconds flat.

Matt grabbed the vibrator off the bed, and you spread your legs a bit to let him position it at your clit. You closed your legs again to keep it in place. He kept a finger on the bottom button to power it on, and you tensed, ready for the vibrations. “Frank’s going to fuck your mouth the way he wants,” Matt said, that velvet tone so different from Frank’s rough timbre, and you found yourself nodding in agreement before you’d even processed his words. “And you’re going to come, just like you want.” He dropped his other hand to your bound ones, tapped once against your skin. Green?

“Fuck you,” you said, trying desperately to keep that anger when the only thought in your head was how good they were about to make you feel. Matt put his hand against your fingers and you tapped once, clearly. Green.

He turned on the toy, and a moan ripped out from you before Frank pushed his cock into your mouth, fucking into it so fast and so deep that you couldn’t keep up, drool spilling from your lips. You moaned at the endless sensation against your clit, against the feeling of being used by him, and then he pushed far enough into your throat that you lost your air supply and your thoughts with it. You came so hard your vision whited out, your body going loose against him.

Frank slowed his pace, but the toy didn’t stop. “This what you wanted, sweetheart?” Frank said, half a grunt. “My cock in your mouth. Coming all over yourself.” You whimpered around him. It was too much. You never wanted it to stop. “Yeah. You’re a good little slut. ‘Course you want it.”

Frank pulled your mouth off his cock, but you quickly came again from the vibrations and his words. The world had gone soft around the edges, just as you wanted it. “Fran’… Ma’…” you slurred, not quite able to make the consonants. “Feel so goo’…”

You felt a hand between your legs, then a second later the toy turned off and was pulled away from you. “Wai…”

A pair of hands grabbed your upper arms and pulled you up, and you were too far gone to stop the moan that came as you rubbed your thighs together, feeling your slick and Matt’s cum coating them. You were pulled onto the bed, and moved around like a doll until you were on your back, hands unbound, muscles too weak to move.

Then, a form covered your own, a large hand grabbed your jaw, and you opened your eyes hazily to find Frank staring down at you. “Gonna come inside you now. S’what you want, yeah?”

You tried at a yes, and he pushed inside you with the same force he’d just taken your mouth. You were already so overstimulated, but he kept his hands off your clit, instead thrusting inside you desperately. You realized that he hadn’t come yet. “Fran’- please- inside me-” you begged. “Wan’ your cum. Please.”

He managed a few more thrusts before he moaned, his seed spilling inside of you. You closed your eyes and hummed in delight at the feeling. He collapsed half on you, not pulling out as he started to soften.

“Frank.” Matt’s voice came, and you looked up to see him kneeling beside you, a hand on Frank’s shoulder. “Let me taste her. Please.”

Frank nodded against you, then pulled away. Matt took his place, broad shoulders holding your legs apart. His hot breath brushed over the sensitive skin of your upper thighs. “You smell so good, sweetheart. Smell like him, like me. Love how you trust us to use you like this.”

“Ma’-“ you gasped, tried rutting your hips, but he moved his arm to hold them down, the pressure only increasing your arousal. “Please.”

“You’re insatiable,” he murmured, moving from your upper thighs to your cunt, lips brushing against your skin. “How many times do we have to get you off before you’re satisfied?”

That cut through the haze enough to reignite the anger. “Until I say so,” you snapped, and buried your hands in his hair to move him closer to your pussy.

He laughed, the feeling shooting through you, and then began to lap at the cum spilling from you. You moaned, eyes falling shut, and let him taste you as he wanted. You knew Matt loved this, would go down on both you and Frank without either of you even asking for it. It was one of his favorite things to do when you and Frank started a movie or a TV show marathon, seeing how long he could go down on you without making you come, or seeing how many times he could get Frank off in a short amount of time. You could never say no to him, not for this.

His tongue pushed inside you, the feeling and the obscene sounds that came with it enough to bring you close to another orgasm. His tongue slid out, and then he wrapped his lips around your opening and sucked, your back arching off the bed at the sudden, unfamiliar sensation. It took you a second to realize that he was sucking both of their cum out of you, tasting the three of you together. Based on the way he was grinding against the mattress, he must like it.

Matt went back to lapping at your cunt, and your body dropped with him, panting.  A hand suddenly cupped your breast, rolling your nipple between two fingers. You opened your eyes to find Frank sitting next to you, hungrily watching the bud darken with his touch. “Fran’-k” you managed.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Feel goo’,” you sighed, eyes slipping closed.

You could hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, yeah I know. There’s my good girl. Just needed my cock, and she calmed right down, huh?”

That was a challenge if you’d ever heard one. You opened your eyes again, pushed Matt’s face deeper in your cunt, taking control again. “Like hell it was. You’re lucky Matt’s so good with his mouth.”

For the first time since he’d started going down on you, Matt moved up to suck on your clit. Hard.

Frank kissed you, tongue sweeping into your mouth as both his hands cupped your breast, pinched your nipples, and your body contracted against him, his weight keeping you down as another orgasm rolled through you. Matt didn’t stop his motions through it, eagerly cleaning up your juices.

Your mind had gone blank again, the challenge Frank had thrown down forgotten. There was more movement around you, the loss of Matt’s mouth from your cunt, Frank’s body lifting from away. You wanted them to stay but couldn’t so much as whimper.

“On your hands and knees, sweetheart,” Matt’s voice came, and you felt hands turn you over onto your stomach. You tried lifting yourself up, got one hand underneath yourself, but fell back onto the mattress. “I want to fuck you again. Do you want that?”

Yes yes yes yes. You couldn’t form the words, couldn’t make a noise.

There was movement, and your breath caught in anticipation, but it was only one of their fingers, tapping once against your shoulder. Green?

An arm found its way beneath one of your hands, and you tapped once. Green.

The arm beneath your hands disappeared, and then another wrapped around your waist and pulled you up. You managed to get your knees and hands beneath you, wanting to feel them inside you again.

A hand steadied you on your hip, and you recognized it as Matt’s, thanks to the scar on the tip of his forefinger. He pushed inside, fast and rough. It shook loose a moan from your chest, a “yes” following it.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart,” Frank rumbled, and it took you a moment to follow the order. He sat in front of you, pushing your sweaty hair away from your face. He tipped your chin up, forced you to make eye contact. “You should see her, Red. Looks so pretty when she’s ruined like this. Not a single fucking thought in her head, just our good little slut.”

That got another noise out of you, eyes slipping closed again. “Hey, did I say you could do that?” Frank said, and you opened your eyes again. All your anger, all your desire to take control, had fled with your last orgasm. You were fully theirs, now. Theirs to use. “Good girl,” he praised, and you moaned, gasping as Matt continued to fill you roughly, cruelly, through the overstimulation they’d caused. “So fucking pretty. Keep your mouth open, yeah. Just like that.”

Out of your peripheral vision, you could see Frank beginning to stroke himself, cock proud against his stomach, and you felt yourself begin to drool, imagining him filling your mouth again, this time as Matt fucked you from behind. You couldn’t find the words to ask.

Frank reached up a hand to cup your cheek, thumb pressing into your mouth, and you took what you could get, sucking at it eagerly. He tasted like sex, like his cum, like you.

You moaned, keeping your eyes on Frank as you sucked his finger, Matt rutting into you. One of Matt’s hand’s reached around to stroke your cunt, and you began moving your hips against him as another orgasm crested, his pace faltering until he came inside you again. You followed him a moment later.

Frank moved his thumb from your mouth and stood, disappearing behind you, and you closed your eyes, reveling in the pleasure of your peak. Matt pulled out, and you hummed happily, until you felt the head of Frank’s cock pushing at your entrance.

And it was so much, too much, you’d just come, you couldn’t- couldn’t-. You whimpered and tried crawling up the bed, away from the pressure, but his hands grabbed your hips and dragged you back to him. You thrashed in his grip. “No no no, Frank- can’t please no-“

His form caged yours in, voice rough in your ear. “You don’t have a choice, you hear me? Don’t have a single goddamn choice. Were bad earlier. Gotta be reminded who’s in charge here, yeah? Now be a good little slut and take my cock.”

You whimpered as he mounted you, the overstimulation painful.

“Wait, Frank-” Matt suddenly said, and Frank stilled. “Color, sweetheart.”

“Gree-!“ you gasped, and Frank grunted and pounded into you with deep, quick thrusts, hands holding your hips in place. The overstimulation quickly went from painful to pleasurable, and your hands dropped out from under you, face against the mattress. You were powerless against the waves of sensation, against his control.

Finally, your brain went quiet. It was what you’d been chasing since you came home, and you let it wash over and through you, taking you away.

When you came back to yourself, you were on your side between them. You blinked open your eyes, finding Frank looking at you. “Mm.”

He smiled. “Hey.”

You closed your eyes and nuzzled into his chest. “How long was I gone?”

“Not long.”

“You came again?”

“Yeah.” They’d cleaned you off at least, that much you could tell.

“Was that what you needed?” Matt asked from behind you.

“Yeah,” you sighed happily. “Thank you. Both of you.” You pressed a gentle kiss to Frank’s lips, then rolled over to give one to Matt as well.

You were all quiet for a long minute, enjoying the others’ presence. Matt finally said, “Are you ready to talk to us about work now?”

You sighed, kept your eyes closed. “It’s stupid.”

Matt hummed. “That’s the fifth time you’ve bratted in the three years we’ve been together. It’s not stupid.”

It took you a second to find the words. “Remember how I had that big presentation? That I had to give to the CEO of my company?” You’d been working on this project for several months, and you were so proud of it. It could change the way your company did business, and your research suggested that it might increase your revenue fivefold. Even being a lower-level worker in the company, your manager had been so impressed she’d passed it up the chain, and it’d gone all the way to land you in front of the e-suite. You’d put on the dress and heels that made you feel powerful, and walked in ready to wow.

“I walked into that presentation, and everyone ignored me. They didn’t realize I was who they were hearing from. The CEO asked me to get them coffee.”

Matt’s hand moved to your waist, thumb brushing against your skin to comfort. Frank gave a quiet, angry, “shit.”

“I gave them my name, explained why I was there, and they let me give my presentation.” The entire time, they’d seemed to be looking at your body more than your slideshow. When they weren’t checking their phones, that was. “And then afterwards, he said he would ‘think about it,’” you said, impersonating his tone. They’d made it clear that it was a no, that your idea wasn’t worth shit to them. All that stress, those months of work, for nothing.

Frank said, “do you want me to kill them?”

And you knew if you said yes, Frank would do it in a heartbeat. You also knew that Matt would never forgive you for it. “No, sweetheart.” you said. “I don’t want them dead, I just wish they hadn’t… hadn’t made me feel so useless.”

“You’re not useless,” Matt said, with conviction. “Sweetheart, if you were useless, Frank and I would’ve been dead fifteen times over. If they make you feel that way, then you don’t have to stay with them. We have the savings if you want to quit and find a new job.”

And you laughed, blinked back your grateful tears. He meant it, every word. You stitched them together night after night, watched them hurt themselves for other’s peace. You didn’t ask them for that, so they gave you this instead: unconditional support. Endless love. “I think I need to calm down, a bit. I’ll see how I feel on Monday.” You hesitated, then said, “thank you.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Matt said. You smiled again, eyes slipping shut, and then an alarm went off.

You all startled, and Frank pulled away from you, standing. “Fuck, that’s the timer for the lasagna.” You’d forgotten about dinner. “I’m gonna go set the table. I’ll make sure to wipe it down, sweetheart.”

You rolled over to look at him. “I’m sorry I yelled, Frank. I was angry at them, and I took it out on you, and I’m sorry.”

He smiled at you. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”

[kingofpopmj]

Can’t Go On Without You By My Side

Summary: You visit your boyfriend of two years on his BAD world tour. The excitement of witnessing him perform live is quickly tainted the moment she walks in.

Pairing: Michael Jackson x Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Requested: no

*Y/N's POV*

Michael and I were finally able to plan for me to visit him on tour. I was lucky enough to get a week and a half off of work and we were determined to make the most of it. Michael had insisted on picking me up from the airport even though he was technically supposed to be at the venue. We arrived about ten minutes after the show was scheduled to begin, but thankfully, no one called us out on it.

I stood off to the side, watching Michael completely own the stage. The way he mastered his onstage persona was breathtaking. His smile was so bright. I took a moment to discreetly admire his outfit, clinging to his body tighter with each passing song.

“He’s sexy, isn’t he?” A breathy voice sounded from beside me, interrupting my silent gawking. I guess I wasn't being as discreet as I thought.

“Um—” I looked to my left, making eye contact with a very tall woman. She was beautiful. A tight black dress clung to her body so tight it almost looked painted on. I know exactly who this is.

“The correct answer is yes. He can do it all, if you know what I mean.” My hands clenched into fists with such force I could feel my rings digging into my skin. “He’s absolutely the sexiest man alive. I’m so exhausted, he kept me up all night this past week. That's not a complaint by the way. He is so worth it.”

I couldn’t put together enough words to form a complete sentence. Quite frankly, all my focus was on holding myself back. I couldn’t catch a case right now. Michael might be cheating on me and this woman is certainly a whore. That was that. I couldn’t change fact. If I went off and beat the living shit out of some groupie it would ruin the rest of my life. I couldn’t let the anger control my behavior. He betrayed me, but I refuse to let him see how much it really broke me.

“I’m so sorry, I get all misty watching him. Don’t we all?” She laughed, squeezing my shoulder, little did she know she was dangerously close to losing those boney little fingers. “My name is Tatiana, and you are?” She held out her hand, batting her eyelashes so hard I thought she’d fly away. At least I hoped she would. Maybe over a large body of water, perhaps shark infested waters.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” She let out an exaggerated gasp, slapping her palm against her mouth.

“You’re the girlfriend! Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.” She quickly ran off leaving me standing there alone with this feeling in my stomach that I couldn’t describe.

I glanced around the immediate area, seeing no one else near me felt worse somehow. I don't know many people here other than Michael. I became distracted as he sang Rock With You, little did he know he was moments away from getting rocked. Y/N, no, stop. I release the tension in my hands, shaking it off, trying to let go of the violent thoughts swirling in my mind. Besides how therapeutic it was right now, it wasn’t productive. I need some air, a drink, a hitman? No. Air, I need air.

The clicks of my heels echoed through the halls as I headed towards an unknown destination. I'm probably lost, but that’s a problem for future Y/N.

*Michael's POV*

As Rock With You came to an end, I noticed Y/N disappear behind the curtain. Exactly, two songs have gone by since then and still no sign of her. During the brief outfit change after Thriller, before intermission, I notice Greg, my music director mouthing something to me.

"What?" I mouthed back, scratching my forehead. He's terrible at this.

"Your girl." Okay, I got that. I nodded, shrugging slightly as if to say and what about her.

"Mad."

I couldn’t play charades any longer, as the lights dimmed and the band took over the stage I snuck behind the large equipment to get closer to him.

"What happened?"

"I saw Tatiana talking to her. She did not look too happy after that brother."

I nodded slowly, processing his words before walking off. I should be taking advantage of my break, but I couldn’t relax not knowing where my girlfriend was.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you. What are you doing all the way back here?”

"Nothing I just needed some air." She said lowly, avoiding my eyes.

"Are you okay?" I moved towards her, cupping her face in my hands. The look in her eyes answering my question, but I wanted to hear it from her.

"Yeah, well, no, but it can wait until after the show."

"Are you sure?" I asked and she nodded in response. "Now, can you please come back with me? I perform better knowing my beautiful woman is watching me."

She accompanied me as I changed into my next outfit. She helped me slip into my coat, but my excitement was short lived, because I could sense her sadness. What is going on?

"I love you, baby." I watched closely as she struggled with her response, she began biting on her bottom lip, her eyes growing glossy. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Her voice cracked and she quickly turned away from me.

"I know you Y/N. You're hurting and I'd like to know what's going on so I can help."

"S—She—" Y/N broke down right, her body was shivering as she tried to compose herself. I felt less than helpless.

"Who?" I tried comforting her, but she brushed me off, moving away from me all together.

A quick knock on the door, signaling that intermission was coming to a close and I needed to get back out there.

"I'll let them know I need more time. I'll be right back."

"No!"

"You're crying. Y/N, baby, I'm not leaving you."

"I'm alright. Please, can we just talk about this later?"

I didn't want to agree, but she wasn't asking, she was practically begging. I intertwined our fingers, keeping her close as I weaved my way through the backstage area.

"Please, stand here and watch the rest of the show. It would mean the world to me." I smiled at her and kissed her temple as I hugged her.

"I'll be right here." She reaffirmed my confidence. Then, she grabbed my collar, pulling me into her lips. Her tongue was pure magic. Normally, I'd be embarrassed about public affection, but with the way I'm feeling, I'd love to feel every inch of her right here, right now. I didn't care who was watching.

She pulled away and I desperately chased her lips as she giggled at my neediness.

"You have to go."

"There is no way I'm leaving your side after that."

"You don't have a choice."

"I will be back. Very, very soon."

*Y/N's POV*

I watched the second half of Michael's concert the way I should've watched the first half. I enjoyed myself dancing and singing along to my man's voice. What Tatiana said hurt me, but I felt so foolish when I thought logically again. Michael isn't that type of person. I didn't need to talk to him about this, because once the anger and hurt wore off I was able to come to a conclusion on my own. She's lying. She has to be.

"You're still here?" This damn witch. "I'd be halfway home by now if I found out my boyfriend stepped out on me."

There was so much I wanted to say, but I chose to let her words go in one ear and out the other. The last thing I want to do is let her know she ever got to me.

"Well, that's my cue. Enjoy the show." She winked, walking pass me and flipping her hair.

I was forced to watch as Tatiana strutted across the stage with my boyfriend chasing after her. This was one of my favorite songs and now I couldn’t even enjoy it. I felt my blood begin to boil as she shamelessly flirted with him in front of the crowd of thousands.

She was getting closer and closer to him. She was doing this on purpose and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Why is this song so long all of the sudden?

"What the hell is she doing?" I heard Frank DiLeo grumble from behind me. I jumped a bit at his tone, but tried to play it off.

"Everything okay?" I asked softy.

"Hey darling, yeah she was supposed— what the hell! Get her off the damn stage! Now!"

I turned my attention back to the stage and I wished more than anything I wouldn’t have done that. I tried to blink as if that would change the view, but it didn’t.

I was stuck in that horrible moment as the worst thing I could imagine was confirmed. I had a front row seat to my own humiliation and I had no idea how to escape.

Before I knew it, she was walking towards me. "So happy you could be here to see what a real power couple looks like." She stopped in front of me, crossing her arms. "Sorry honey, he's moved on to bigger and better things."

I felt my cheeks heat up as I became uncomfortably aware of how many eyes were on us.

"Tatiana, that's enough. Get away from her." Frank shouted, shooing her away like a toddler.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

We stood in silence as Man in the Mirror blasted through the speakers. It wasn't until Michael's long passionate goodbye to his fans, wrapping up the concert that Frank slung his arm around my shoulder.

"Darling, you know she's full of it right?"

"I'm not sure."

"Michael and I have to take care of some business. I won't keep him too long and I'll send him your way after."

I knew that was his way of telling me it was private business that I couldn’t be around for. I hugged him before heading off, I wasn't really sure where I was going, but walking felt better than sitting with my thoughts.

"Baby! I'm so sorry. Frank told me what happened after—"

“I need to get out of here before I do something I regret.” Michael reached out, taking a firm hold of my hand, he pulled me down a short hallway and into his dressing room.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He finally spoke, shutting the door behind him.

“You’re sorry I had to see it?”

“Yes.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Y/N—”

“Does that mean you do it often?”

“No, that’s not—”

“You go around kissing other people when I’m not around?”

“Y/N, I’ve never—”

“I know they’re everywhere, throwing themselves at you, but I never thought you let them get to you.”

“Stop!”

“What!”

“I’ve never cheated on you!” He shouted in a tone I had never heard before, the look of pain present in his eyes. Shit.

“That’s not what people are saying.” I muttered, suddenly I felt so guilty.

“People? What people?”

“Who do you think! She said you two—”

“That’s a lie! I only see her during performances. That’s it. Y/N, I would never do that to you.”

“How am I supposed to believe you after that? She kissed you and you let her.”

“No, no, no! I didn’t let her! I wasn’t even paying attention to her. When I’m on stage, I’m there to perform. Why would I spend weeks planning for your visit just to betray you?”

“She was so awful to me, the things she said, then, she went out there and—”

“Got herself fired.”

“Michael, I’m pissed, but I’ll get over it. I don’t want this to affect business. You don’t have to fire her.”

“I already did.”

“Michael—”

“I only want to work with people who respect me and my loved ones. She won’t be missed. I don’t care to have people around me that I can’t trust.”

“I’m sorry I yelled. I’m so sorry I accused you of—” Michael shut me up, gripping my hips, pressing my body against his and kissing me sloppily. His hand claiming a possessive hold of the back of my neck, deepening his touch.

"I love you." he spoke into my mouth, his hot breath sent shivers down my spine. I felt myself tremble as his fingers explored my inner thigh, pushing up my skirt to give himself more access.

"I love you." I said, slipping my fingers around his belt buckle. He smiled knowingly, pushing me back, my ass collided with the counter and I felt myself crumble at his roughness. The cold countertop causing me to let out a moan. He pulled away for a moment, reaching behind me and clearing off the counter in one swift movement. "Such a gentleman." I purred in his ear as he picked me up.

"Only for you." A smirk on his face as the sound of nylon tearing filled my ears. "I love how sexy these look on you. I'll have to replace them." His long fingers slipping pass the freshly shredded fabric of my panties and teasing me one finger at a time. He watched as my head leaned back onto the mirrored wall, he chuckled as I struggled to find something to grab onto.

"Michael!" I was fighting to breath feeling him knuckle deep inside of me, hitting the right spot. "Fuck! Deeper!" I begged for more. Contrary to my needy cries, he pulled back, leaving me feeling empty as he unbuckled his belt, letting his pants fall to the ground. I took this opportunity to tear his shirt off, throwing it across the room.

Michael pushed my legs apart, admiring how much I yearned for him, he slowly pulled me towards him with a strong grip on my legs. My bare ass slide across the counter painfully slow until I finally felt his hard tip press against my entrance.

"Always so wet and ready for me." He slammed into me, giving me no time to adjust which threw me further over the edge.

"Harder!" I yelled as he pounded into me with such intensity I swear I could feel him rearranging my guts.

"Baby, I want to cum inside of you." His voice smooth, making me even more wet.

"Please!" The walls were shaking as we continued to devour one another.

"You're fucking perfect." He whispered against the bare skin of my chest, I felt him everywhere. My eyes rolled back as his dick massaged all the right places.

Suddenly, the door swung open violently, causing me to panic and try to cover my exposed chest, but Michael stopped me. He grabbed my wrists trapping them behind my back in on of his hands as he increased his speed again. My moans escaped my throat against my will as tears of pleasure rolled down my cheeks. At this point, my entire body was shaking, Michael's tongue rolling against mine elongating my high further.

"What the fuck are you doing!" A voice shouted, causing my head to snap in the direction of its origin. Tatiana.

"You feel so good wrapped around my dick." He declared as he sucked on my neck. It was impossible to concentrate on anything else but his lips. "I'll never get tired of fucking this perfect pussy." Michael didn’t stop. He spoke clearly and confidently as he fucked me with purpose.

"Get the fuck out of here!" Tatiana yelled.

"Y/N!" Michael whimpered, his seed spreading within me, causing my legs to tingle. He gazed deep into my eyes, beads of sweat trailing down his face. "I fucking love you." His hand gently curled around the side of my neck, pulling me back into his sweet mouth.

"What the fuck!" Another shout from the demon herself. I paid it no mind. Looking back at Michael, his long dick still twitching inside of me.

"I love you baby." I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck, leaning into his neck to leave my mark. Tatiana stood there staring at us in shock, so naturally I challenged her stare. I waited to see if Michael would break focus, but he didn’t.

“We are busy in here. Close the door on your way out.” Michael said sternly between breaths, not even sparing her a glance.

The door slammed shut seconds later and it was only then that I took the time to look around the dimly lit room. Make-up and personal belongings littered the floor. Various unfamiliar items surrounded us, leading me to believe that I was made apart of one very well thought out, very devious plan and it turned me on.

"Michael?"

"Yes, my love?"

“This isn’t your dressing room, is it?”

“Nope.” He smiled triumphantly, planting tender kisses all over my face.

“You’re so sneaky.”

“You’re my girl. That’s never changing.”

“You quite literally marked your territory.” I giggled as he caressed my collarbone, watching as goosebumps formed.

“Oh, Y/N, baby, I’m just getting started. We’re gonna be here all night.”

“Let’s see what you got rockstar.”

“Baby, don’t make me carry you out on that stage and give those lovely people an encore they’ll never forget.”

“A girl can dream can’t she?”

I winked teasingly as I positioned myself onto my knees, looking up at the man I love, confident I was about to give him the best head of his life.

[ryusuisloveinterest]

henloo ‼️ how has everything been lately? i hope you're alright and having a nice day/night <3

can i make a request for Ryusui, Sai, Ukyo and Tsukasa with a dyslexic s/o reader? nothing too fancy, just them being comforting because it is actually a very frustrating condition most of the time, haha

that would be it, tysm 🫶

hi anon (you’re now 🐳 anon)! I tried my best because I’m not that familiar with what people with dyslexia go through so if anything so insensitive or offensive I’m sorry and please let me know🙏 I hope you like it💗

Ryusui, Sai, Ukyo, & Tsukasa with a dyslexic s/o🫶

Ryusui:

I don’t see Ryusui really noticing at first lol. If anyone were to ask him if you have dyslexia he’d probably just shrug and be all like “idk but who cares?”

When he sees the red on your face when he points out you’re sentence is missing some words he feels so bad

“Love I didn’t mean to offend you! I’m so sorry I just want you to make a good grade that’s all!”

“I know Ryusui… it’s just so hard dealing with this…”

“With what?”

“Ryusui you know I’m dyslexic right? Ryusui?”

Immediately goes to Senku💀

He wants to know how he can help you

If you want a professional to help with your words and/or writing than bet Ryusui will have like 10 of the best at your doorstep in 10 minutes 

If you just wanted some encouragement than Ryusui’s got plenty of it!

“Hey love it’s alright. Take your time I’ll be here to listen.”

He’s always here for you to vent and to listen no matter what

Sai:

Sai is more likely to catch on, but doesn’t want to say anything because he’s worried he’ll offend you if he’s wrong

He does bring it up though when he sees you having a hard time reading a menu at a restaurant 

“Darling do you want me to read it for you?”

With a blush you nod, that’s all he needs to know

He has no problem helping you 

He makes sure that if you spelt something wrong or need help reading something to whisper it so you’re not embarrassed 

If you ever get frustrated he’s definitely someone to go to. He’s not good with words but while hold you and let you vent

Ukyo: 

He heard you mumbling to yourself when he found out 

“Damn this stupid dyslexia…”

He never brought it up to you but definitely helped a lot

When he talks to you he always waits with a smile for your response 

“Sorry Ukyo, it just takes some time for me to find my words…”

“Hey don’t ever be sorry! Take all the time you need.”

If you ever misspell something he’ll either whisper it to tell you and give you a small sign like gently tapping your shoulder or motioning his head towards the word

He wants to help you in anyway you can, so if you wanna read to him to help yourself then he’s gonna listen

If you wanna write him little notes he’ll read them and identify any changes if needed

“Take deep breaths baby, we’ll get through this together!”

Tsukasa:

He found out when you went to one of his matches

You help a sign that read I love you Tuskasa!! 

He didn’t say anything to you after the match, but Mirai did 😀 kids are so bold I swear

“Big sis that’s not how you spell Tsukasa’s name!”

Your face immediately reddens as you look at the sign again. You didn’t recognize it at first but after slowly reading it you found the issue

“O-oh…my bad. I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s alright princess. No harm done, in fact I love the sign.”

After that Tsukasa asked you about it and told you Mirai didn’t mean any harm in what she said 

“It’s alright my prince, I’m just embarrassed. The whole arena saw that stupid sign.”

“Hey I told you I love it so don’t talk bad about it!”

His next match it was hanging on his side of the ring❤️

He’ll help you in anyway he can 

He also talks to Mirai so she understands of course she gives you a big hug and apologizes

God forbid someone else gives you crap for it cause he’ll knock them straight out without hesitation 

Random dude: “you spelt this wrong. What’re you a kindergartn-“

Tsukasa smacks the shit outta him know he’s knocked out

“Come on y/n let’s go.”

No one messes with his girl

[two-sibyls-tall]

I bullet-point planned out a batfam fanfic aWHILE ago but I am Bad At Writing full-fledged stories so I’m going to just throw it out in the open here in the hopes that ya’ll will appreciate it, and also that mayhaps someone else who is Good At Writing will find it and make it.

So. Here’s my take on a Reverse!Robins Dimensional Travel fic.

Damian:

Starts off with Robin!Damian seeing a black-robed uniform that’s awfully similar to the League of Assassins gear. Which is. Worrying. to see in Gotham.

Robin!Damian sneaks up on him to figure out wtf he’s doing.

Nightwing!Damian, aka the black-robed figure, calls him out. Possibly even makes an offhanded joke about how R!Damian shouldn’t be wearing bright ass colors if he didn’t want to be seen.

R!Damian catches sight of the Nightwing logo on N!Damian’s chest and proceeds to demand who he is

N!Damian recognizes R!Damin’s pattern of speech and essentially goes “oh fuck”. Reveals himself as Nightwing, aka Damian Wayne.

R!Damian immediately thinks of the Heretic. He calls for backup in code via comm link.

N!Damian is on the same comm channel, so he hears the responses to the code even if he doesn’t recognize the code itself. He’s semi-annoyed and starts running

R!Damian is IN PURSUIT.

N!Damian gets yoinked back to hid own dimension

R!Damian meets up with Nightwing!Dick and says something along the lines of “the assailant disappeared but who tf was that.”

Jason:

It’s a couple days later now.

Red Robin!Tim has already started working on a multiverse-type theory and let Red Hood!Jason know, so honestly RH!Jason isn’t terribly surprised when he comes across a vaguely familiar vigilante beating the shit out of a criminal in Crime Alley.

New vigilante introduces himself as Redbird

RH!Jason goes across comms to ask Tim how tf he should be handling this shit?

Redbird visibly freezes up when RR! does the classic “no names in the field” chastise

RH!Jason straight up asks Redbird if he can hear the comms bc who needs to be subtle.

When Redbird confirms, he just sorta sighs and gives a code to O. There’s a bit of yelling while the team processes the possibility of compromised comms.

It calms down again, and RR!Tim is like “okay the evidence is pretty clear here if you ask me,, Redbird I think you’re from another dimension. Do you recognize any of us?”

Redbird is like “well I’ve only actually caught one of your guys’s names so far, but yes I. Know. a Tim. He doesnt sound like you anymore, though”

RH!Jason is like ‘hmm we’re gonna put a pin in that one for now’

Meanwhile RR!Tim is talking to Redbird about going to the batcave and also maybe running some tests to figure out where they’re coming from and what’s going on here

Redbird shrugs and mentions that this whole situation sorta seems like what his brother was talking about a few seconds before he jumped dimensions.

���Is your brother Damian Wayne, aka Nightwing?”

“Fuck. Yeah, that’s him.”

At this point RH!Jason connects the dots an goes “ah shit, you’re me aren’t you.”

Redbird!Jason gives the most dramatic eye-roll possible and is like “bro we went from Redbird to Red Hood? That’s so lame. Why’d we even change it.”

RH!Jason just looks at him. “No dude we went from Robin to Red Hood. because we died.”

“NEWS TO ME???”

They've been heading to the batcave during this conversation

They walk in and RR!Tim's already there and he's like "Jason stop freaking out mini you this is clearly a different universe he might not even die."

Redbird!Jason is completely frozen staring at (unmasked) Tim and just kinda whispers "Tim?" And then he gets yoinked back to his universe.

Tim and Jason look at each other and Jason's like "so that's definitely not a good sign for what happened to you in their universe, right?"

Dick:

Nightwing!Dick is in the Batcave w/ most of the family discussing the dimension travel shit when he suddenly feels like he's being watched

He puts the meeting on pause and the feeling increases and he just looks straight up and sees golden eyes staring at him from the rafters

The other Batfamily members in attendance also look up and go what !! the fuck !!

NW!Dick knows about the whole 'Haly's circus being a theoretical breeding ground for the Court of Owls' thing bc I said so, so he already feels like he knows whats goin on

before anyone can say anything he just clears his throat and says "Gray Son?"

Batfamily freezes in shock and the small child w/ gold eyes just tilts his head in recognition and then jumps down from the rafters w/ no hesitation

He lands right next to NW!Dick and stands at attention, and Dick kinda feels sick bc Talon!Dick is like 8 years old

NW!Dick looks at the batfamily and makes some joke of like "haha looks like it’s my turn for the alternate dimension encounter"

RR!Tim is already taking notes

Bruce's put it all together and he's like "fuck. Little you is a Talon."

Cue the batfamily losing their shit again

Talon!DIck is looking between all of them confused, and he notices Damian just deadlock staring at him, and he's like Oh!! I know this one !!! so he stares back

RR!Tim is like "okay fantastic, well between Talon and Nightwing!Damian I think I can confidently guess by now that their dimension is one where all of our ages are reversed. Hey Talon do u wanna confirm that."

Talon is Very Helpful and nods, and Nightwing!Dick is like "alright buddy do you wanna tell us about ur dimension"

Except Talon doesnt really talk but !! he does sign!! his big sister cass has been teaching him sign !!

NW!Dick is like “thats great!! I know sign!!” and he starts relaying info to RR!Tim so he can take notes while Talon talks

Talon tells him that Tim From His Universe (and Dick isnt going to unpack yet why Tim’s namesign is a T drawn in the shape of a smile) has also put together that they’re going to a different universe

He says there was a case that the 4 nightshift batboys were on (girls were working a different case, Batman is offworld) w Oracle leading ofc that was selling alien technology

he says the 4 nightshift batboys were hit w a beam that didnt seem to do anything, but Tim of His Universe thinks that beam just had a slower affect and is what’s causing this

He says his big brother damian was the first to just randomly disappear mid mission and it gave Talon a scare bc they were together at the time, so he just froze and waited for damian to come back

and when Damian did, he immediately relayed what happened over comms, and a couple seconds later Redbird wasnt responding either

at this point RR!Tim interrupts and is like “are u saying urs all happened the same day? bc its been like a couple weeks since NW!Damian came here and several days since Redbird”

Talon just kinda shrugs and is like “well keep an eye out for Tim Of My Universe next bc he was hit too”

At this point NW!Tim is like “hey bud. why u. Why u using that name sign for Tim?”

Talon’s is about to respond when he gets yoinked back to his universe as well

Tim gives a mildly hysterical laugh and is like “well that’s not foreboding at all!!!”

Tim:

RR!Tim doesnt actually notice when JJ!Tim comes in this universe, bc at this point JJ!Tim has figured it out as well and is like “alright well the kid hasnt been jokerized so why traumatize him if I dont have to”

but unfortunately JJ!Tim IS spotted by a random passerby who mistakes him for the Joker so the whole batfamily’s out soon anyway looking for him

Hood finds JJ!Tim first and is like “alright i got eyes on him and im in pursuit,, hes kinda dressed weird tho wtf”

JJ!Tim hears this over comms and is like ‘welp now or never’ so he talks over the comms too (while running from Hood) and is like “hey I might be in the wrong universe, any way I could talk to one Tim Drake”

RR!Tim is like “Fuck dude really. rn? with a joker breakout? this is a bad time”

JJ!Tim responds w like “ur telling me, dude, Im the one being chased by a homicidal maniac w a red bucket on his head”

“YOU’RE THE GUY DRESSED LIKE THE JOKER?”

“THE JOKER IS STILL ALIVE HERE?”

JJ!Tim does NOT take this news well and he stops running, Hood catches up but doesnt engage bc ur telling me this is Tim?? this is RR?? tf happened?? but he does relay over comms that JJ is laughing and it is freaking him tf out bc he sounds EXACTLY like the Joker so SOMEONE get over here before Jason goes full Pit Rage

RR!Tim does arrive and immediately recognizes his own features despite the green hair and green eyes and bleached skin and Absolutely Terrifying Smile what the FUCK happened

JJ calms down just enough to be like “Oh I get it. This universe is age reversal so it also changed who the Joker got, too”

Hood looks like hes about to be sick, Tim’s not far behind

JJ’s like “great! well I’m Joker Junior, occasionally known as Tim Drake, and in my universe I was brainwashed by the Joker, then killed him and myself!! but apaprently the universe wasnt a fan of that because then I woke up in an UNMARKED GRAVE and wandered around for awhile, got dunked in a lazarus pit, and am overall having a terrible time”

At this point NW!Dick and Robin!Damian are here too and they’re like jfc dude

JJ looks down at his wrist like theres a watch there (there’s not) and is like “alright well according to my calculations, I shouldnt be here much longer, since most of my time was spent hiding & then running from ya’ll in order to NOT have this confrontation but look how well that worked out. Anyway u guys should kill the joker,, who knows if he might get inspiration from my universe and torture little timmy over there,, anyway ta ta” and then he fuckin disappears

Red Hood is like “yep ok im gonna go murder a clown” and no one really moves to go stop him

[kenananamin]

A Sorcerer’s Spirit

A story inspired by the 1947 film The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. Summary: You move into an older house that keeps going up on the market. Avoiding all the warning signs, you move in and meet the ghost of a sorcerer named Nanami Kento. Nanami sees you struggling with the piling bills that could put your livelihood at stake and suggests you write stories from his life to sell and help decrease the growing worry.

Preview: Nanami rounds the couch and sits beside you, “I have a plan.” You raise an eyebrow at him, “My life was not exactly… normal. Not a lot of people know about what I do — did. I think you can make some money with my stories.” You put down the letter in your hand and furrow your brows, “What?” Nanami shifts to face you, “Write my story. We can write it as a thriller or mystery or supernatural piece. We can change the genre depending on the story.” He explains with a proud grin and... you're confused.

Warnings: implied spoilers, mentioned deaths of several characters

Tags: nanami kento x fem!reader, sad, angst, ghost nanami, sad reader backstory, happy ending

~6.3k words

You sit at your table with the growing pile of bills and a throbbing headache. Having to move during such a difficult time and changing the address to every single letter you dread every month was absolute torture. You weren’t even able to unpack anything for your room, bathroom, or kitchen. Your priority was the big plastic bin with pending letters.

2:34am. You weren’t going to finish anything else for the night, so you stand to go to your mattress instead. God knows where the blankets and pillows are so you grab your jacket to use as a blanket for the night. I’ll deal with it tomorrow, it’s not like it’s going anywhere, you think.

You sleep almost immediately after laying on the mattress and if you had stayed awake for a minute more, you would have seen the figure appear by the doorway.

“Hmm,” the man by the doorway ponders, “I wonder how long it’ll take for you to leave…”

———

You wake up with the sun shining directly on your face, “Damn it. I should’ve put the curtains up.”

You take the sun’s assault as your sign to start your day. Going past the table full with the pending letters, you grab a couple boxes labeled bathroom and start unpacking. You were ready to settle into the house and you did not plan to move again. The landlord was a bit hesitant to rent this place to you but it was the size you needed and you just had to ignore the other warnings this place had attached to it. If you didn’t bother any other … things … that were here, then they would leave you alone too … right?

The doorbell rings and you knew it was the moving company with your bigger furniture. Four men start moving everything in and you focus on unboxing the things that were in their way. You’re putting a shoe rack in the entryway closet and close the door when you see a man standing right behind the cloor.

“Oh shit!” you jump back, “Oh – oh gosh, I’m so sorry, you just scared me.” You try to laugh off the weird encounter and look back at the man, “Sorry, was I blocking your way?” You move to the side and make space for the man, but – you notice he’s not holding anything… and his attire is very different from the movers.

“For how long are you planning to stay?” he asks with his hands in his pockets.

Did this random man just barge into your house?!

“You’re… not a mover. Please get out of my house, now.” You block the way to the rest of your house with your body and step forward.

The man chuckles and steps forwards too, “That’s my line. You get out of my house.”

You step back to turn and call one of the movers to help, but the man literally… disappears. You’re frozen in your entryway for a moment but you run into your house looking for the man. Maybe he just went past you and you think he disappeared?? The oldest mover goes to you and asks if you’re ok, worry obviously stitched into his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, umm, are any of the movers wearing like a – a suit? Or did anyone see someone else around the house?”

The older man looks to his colleagues but quickly turns back to you, “Miss, it’s only the five of us here.”

———

You spend the rest of the day looking around for that man. You looked in every room and closet and even checked the perimeter of the house for any possible breach. All windows were locked and doors closed. It makes sense that the man was at the entryway, the door was wide open for the movers… but where did he go?

You’re back at your table, trying to read the new bill that came in today, but distracted with the thoughts about that man that entered your house. You lean your head down on the table and focus on your breathing to try and avoid any panic or anxiety.

“Your furniture is too small for this place.”

You immediately lift your head to the voice that broke your silence, to the voice you recognized from that morning. How did he get in here?

You push your chair away and stand up to prepare to defend yourself if needed. The man looks you up and down and quietly says, “so dramatic.”

You grab the scissors you were using to shred the old letters and hold them in front of you, “What are you doing here?! How did you get in here?!”

The man looks at the scissors and laughs a bit. He starts to close the gap between you as you step back while swinging the scissors at the man who kept getting closer and truly scaring you. You keep stepping back and back and end up against a wall, and he steps right in front of you – right in front of you. You look to your hands that you know are still holding the scissors, but anything beyond your wrists – there’s nothing. Your wrists, hands, and scissors are inside this man’s chest and he is nonchalantly standing right in front of you.

You might have screamed, maybe, you aren’t too sure. But you know you faint and fall to the floor and the last thing you see are this man’s polished shoes.

———

You wake up against the cold floor. A male voice rings out, “You’re the first person to actually move all their furniture in here and unpack the bathroom and kitchen. Most people unpack their towels, maybe their toothbrushes and a pot or pan before running out again.”

You start to sit up, deciding if you should come to terms with the fact that you’re being held hostage in your own home. “Who are you?” You tried asking as brave as you could but the shakiness in your voice couldn’t be hidden and quickly gave you away.

The man is sitting on your couch, legs crossed and one arm leaned against the back of the seat, “I actually feel bad that you fainted and reacted the way you did so I won’t play my games right now,” he stands and makes his way to your spot on the floor. “I’m Nanami Kento, and this is my house.”

His house?? You furrow your brows and open your mouth to talk but he, Nanami, interrupts, “Yes, my house. I’m dead. But this is still my house. Haunted places don’t do well in real estate so not many people make it here, but the ones that do immediately leave because again – my house. I make sure people don't stay for long.”

You don’t move from your spot, speechless by this man. In a truly inexplicable way, you might, maybe, perhaps believe him...

“So when do you leave?”

The question brings you out of your shock and you stand to confront him, “I am not leaving! Your house?!” you scoff, “Sir, this is my house now. I am not leaving my house because a ghost in a suit refuses to leave limbo! Now leave!!”

Nanami grimaces but leans in to stop inches away from your face, “We’ll see.”

———

You get used to wearing your headphones the whole day around your house. You would flinch when you’d turn the corner and see Nanami lounging around or, in a couple occasions, waiting for you as soon as you opened a door.

You would see his lips moving, trying to talk to you but you’d look past him and continue what you were doing. It’s been over a week since you moved in and you’ve only had a couple conversations with him that usually end up in him calling you a “stubborn girl” before your headphones are back on.

You’re walking back home with a few groceries. The house was not too far from the store, but it was a good distance to let your ears rest from the headphones. And think about those bills. You would be ok with the next few payments since you’ve saved enough in the bank, and your job could cover a bit more after that but you’d run out of funds soon and have to live paycheck by paycheck. Then your mom would move in, then your brother too. Three mouths to feed…

You rub your face and walk into your house.

“I thought your name was y/n.”

You flinch after hearing Nanami’s voice. Shit, you forgot to put on your headphones. You start taking off your shoes and respond, “It is.”

“Then why are those medical bills written to a ‘Mari’?”

You look up to the man with his hands in his pockets, “Were you looking through my stuff?! Stop looking through my stuff!”

He tilts his head, “I didn’t go through anything. You always leave everything out on that table.” He shrugs after seeing your glare, “I got bored looking out the window, so I started reading what I could.”

You scoff and roll your eyes as you make your way to the kitchen. Nanami follows you and tries to peek inside your grocery bags.

“So why are there so many bills?” Nanami asks and leans on the counter as you take out your things.

You don’t feel like answering so you ask him, “Why is this house so cheap?”

To your surprise, he answers and points to himself, “It’s haunted.”

You roll your eyes and grab the butter and milk to put in the fridge.

He continues, “And over the years, this area hasn’t been as popular. The area west of here is in demand so this whole neighborhood has been going down. It might get really quiet around these streets soon.”

You close the fridge and look at him. You honestly weren’t expecting any sort of answer from the man despite the very simple question. He usually ignored your questions too and you just asked the first thing that came to mind to avoid answering his question. You take a deep breath, Oh what the hell, it's a ghost, “A lot of them are medical bills,” Nanami looks into your eyes as you explain, “My parents and brother were in a really bad car accident. The other car got away and there was no insurance to help. Everyone was hospitalized and the bills… didn’t stop. They lost their house after that and… and my dad passed shortly after.” You clear your throat as you finish your explanation, “Funerals are pretty expensive too…”

There’s a short silence before you hear a soft and genuine, “I’m sorry. It seems like you’ve taken over everything.”

You nod but look away from the man before he can notice your glossy eyes.

“Is that why you need this house? A place for your mom and brother?” he softly asked.

“Yeah. My mom should be leaving the hospital soon. My brother has a couple surgeries left but he’d move in soon after.”

Nanami nods as you finish your sentence. For the first time since you moved in and he appeared in front of you, he turns and leaves the kitchen without you having to say anything. You peek into the rooms to check for him, but he’s nowhere to be found after your first open conversation.

———

You’re shredding some old bills on your couch when you hear light steps behind you. Ever since you told Nanami about your situation, he hadn't been bothering you as much as that first week. He might pop up for a bit but he'd usually disappear and be unseen for most of the day. Nanami rounds the couch and sits beside you, “I have a plan.” You raise an eyebrow at him, “My life was not exactly… normal. Not a lot of people know about what I do — did. I think you can make some money with my stories.”

You put down the letter in your hand and furrow your brows, “What?”

Nanami shifts to face you, “Write my story. We can write it as a thriller or mystery or supernatural piece. We can change the genre depending on the story.” He explains with a proud grin and... you're confused.

You think about what he said for a while, "why do you want me to write your story?"

He shrugs, "It's not that I want my story out there to be remembered or something like that. I just think it would be interesting to write them out. But most importantly, it could help you and your family. And look at me," he points to himself, "dead. It's not like I would need any of that money, it would just be to help you."

"How do you even know that your stories would make money?" you ask more unsure of the plan the more you talk about it.

He lifts a brow playfully, "Oh y/n, you haven't even heard my story yet. You'll be begging me to write it."

The next week and a half was filled with Nanami telling you his story in great detail and the ideas he had on how to write each part of his life. You weren't sure at first but the more he told you about his life, the more intrigued you were. Sorcerers, curses, staying in the shadows yet being in the open without a single soul noticing. You'd sit in bed at the end of the night, writing blurbs and brainstorming with what he told you that day. It wouldn't be easy to try to sell this, you weren't even sure where to start, but it was a nice distraction after those terribly long days at work and heartbreaking hospital visits.

"I don't like that last sentence, it wouldn't keep the reader's attention," Nanami spoke from beside your bed and you jumped up, not expecting the man to be learning against the wall right next to your bed.

You had been getting used to Nanami appearing out of nowhere but it still surprised you when you thought you were finally alone only for him to break that silence... again.

You look up to ask the question that's been plaguing you since starting to listen to his stories, "How am I even supposed to sell this? It is interesting and all, but I don't know anyone and I'm sure publishing companies won't even look my way despite how good your story is."

Nanami keeps his eyes on the screen when he says, "Kiyokata Ijichi. He can help sell this. I'll give you more information so he believes you, but I know he'll help."

You blink rapidly not understanding a word of what he just said but look down again to re-do the last sentence.

———

You met with Kiyokata Ijichi and it did not take much convincing to get him to believe that a sorcerer's spirit was floating around you at home and he wanted you to sell his story. It made the man laugh and he had to remove his glasses to wipe his tears after hearing how Nanami looked. Nanami had told you about the last few hours of his life, how chaotic it had been in Shibuya and the last image others around him must have had. He knew his death was a gruesome one and that it'd be reported and filed for other sorcerers. Ijichi would of course have found out how his colleague —no, close friend, died. The man was content that Nanami wore his suit and still had his glasses...

Ijichi took what you had of the transcript and told you he would find a publishing company. He assured that he would usually not even listen to a proposition like the one you presented him, but he wanted to do anything to help his friend one last time.

You took the opportunity of your meeting to ask questions about Nanami. Ijichi spoke a bit of his adolescence, but spent most of his time complimenting the talented sorcerer for his skill in fighting and caretaking personality despite the stoic appearance. You could tell he admired the man and truly truly missed him. He mentioned he would've have liked to answer one more call from Nanami and help him one last time. This was the call he was waiting for, and he would do everything to make sure this mission given by Nanami Kento was completed.

———

You started to leave a chair at the table out for Nanami to sit when you left the house for work or the hospital. You'd leave sheets and sheets of paper spread on the table and floor so he could move around the house and read the edited stories to give you notes and/or corrections when you got home. You had tried handing him a stack of the new edits before, but they just plopped on the floor. Nanami stared at the stack on the floor and told you he could not lift or touch anything. His brows lightly furrowed and you could see the sadness extending into his eyes. Although he would mist away as a spirit, you would honestly forget that this man was not actually there. To you, he was like another visitor whose company you started to enjoy. You started spreading the paper on other surfaces that day and although Nanami did not tell you anything at that moment, he was grateful that you'd take the time and energy to do it.

———

"Can I ask you something... kind of personal?" You look up from your laptop to glace over to Nanami sitting across from you reading his next story you had edited. He nods and you continue, "how come you never leave the house? You stop at the door when I'm walking out and you've never attempted to walk out with me.."

He puts his elbows on the table and looks straight into your eyes, thinking about how to answer. "After my death in Shibuya, I had very little energy in the afterlife. I was ready to go at that moment, but a part of me wanted to continue — to stay. I had thought about home and how much I would have liked to be home resting, packing for my trip that never happened. I didn't know I was doing it but I attached myself to my house in the process. I can leave, but it takes a lot of energy even as a spirit. If I have very low energy, the door does not lead me out to the street, but it becomes a beacon of light that I suspect would take me to the actual afterlife. I'm not sure I should take that chance right now and head out the door with the possibility of not coming back."

You softly nod at his response, "thank you for telling me. I'm sorry again about Shibuya, but thank you for telling me... and helping me, Nanami."

The man smiles at you and simply replies, "thank you for listening."

———

"Please promise me that you won't show yourself to my family. Please, I don't want her to see anything she shouldn't and go back to the hospital from shock," you tell Nanami as you fix the pillows on the couch, preparing for your mom's homecoming. He assured that only you will see him and that he will not speak around your mother to avoid you accidentally giving an answer out loud and freaking her out. You head out to pick up your mom from her lengthy hospital stay while Nanami looks out the window, awaiting your return.

When you're back inside, Nanami is leaning on the kitchen counter, listening to your mom thank you for everything and compliment the place. You would catch Nanami smiling at you both when you'd glance his way. A deep part of you thought, I wish they could meet. I wish I could tell her about the man standing so close to us, the man who has been keeping me from a complete break.

In the kitchen, Nanami thought, They look so alike, the same eyes, bright smile, beautifully soft hair, calm beating heart... A beating heart. She was alive, she has a tint to her cheeks, she can touch and feel. Alive. Unlike me.

———

Ijichi found several publishing houses that were interested in your stories and a few even offered deals for multiple books and volumes. The books would be published under a pen name, a combination of both yours and Nanami's name that you both contemplated one late night on your bedroom floor, far from your mother's listening ears.

You ran back home to tell Nanami the news, too excited to wait until the end of the work day. Thank the heavens that your mom was at her part time job when you got home, you don't think you'd be able to contain your excitement to your room at a moment like this.

"Nanami!! Nanami, where are you!" You start screaming out for him as soon as you open the door. But.. it's quiet, "Nanami, Ijichi called!! Where are you!" You head for the common space but he's not there either. A quiet alarm starts going off in your head, but you try to push it back. You try to smile and ask again, "Nanami? Hey, where are you? I have news from Ijichi about the book — can you come out?"

Silence. You only heard your footsteps walking into rooms while looking for Nanami. You open the door to the extra room you use as an office sometimes and see Nanami mist into shape in the corner, "Oh! I found you!" Relief immediately spreads in your chest and you smile widely at the man.

Nanami returns a small smile and asks what happened. You excitedly share the news and jump around him while repeating every single detail Ijichi said. Nanami listens with a smile as he leans on the small desk in the room. He tried to keep the smile on his face for you, but his mind wouldn't stop racing. I can't do this to her yet, oh god — no, not yet. I know I should for her sake, but I... can't.

———

Nanami enters your room as you're asleep. Your eyes softly shifting behind your lids, your fingers occasionally twitching and your chest slowly and repeatedly rising and falling. He never considered coming into your room while you were asleep before, but he wanted to tonight. Just tonight. He kneels next to your bed and lifts his hand to your hand. I can't touch her. My fingers go into her hand and I cannot feel her at all. Nanami floats his fingers over yours, pretending his hand is resting on yours as it would if his form was tangible. He imagines what your skin would feel like. What your small, soft hand would feel like to hold in his. I have to try, I have to give her what I can. Nanami floats his hand over your heart, imagining he could feel the soft beating he would focus on listening when you were around. He leans in closer, much closer than ever before, and gently hovers over your your lips. If only I really could. He pretends to land a soft kiss on your lips, something he wishes he could actually do a thousand times.

———

You jump around and cry when a copy of your soon-to-be released book is finally in your hands. The first of a five-book series. Nanami stands next to you and smiles as you show your mom what you had been working on. You leave out the fact that a sorcerer who hovers around the house helped you write it and say it was a fantasy book you've been thinking about for a long time.

Your mom starts crying, proud that you wrote a book and apologetic for potentially taking so much of your time when you were trying to do something for yourself. You're comforting her and telling her you're glad to be able to provide and be with her.

Nanami goes into the office to give you the space and privacy to talk with your mom. He decides it's finally time. Tonight, I'll do it tonight.

Late at night, after a long conversation with your mom, you sit on your bed as Nanami sits on your floor. You're still holding the book, tired from the overwhelming excitement and adrenaline. You had also just gotten news that your brother would be coming home within the next few days. For the first time in a long time, your face hurt from smiling and crying so much the whole day. You lie down and tell Nanami, "I'm so happy Nanami. Thank you for helping me so much," you felt the tears well up again, "you've helped so fucking much." The tears fall but your smile does not falter as you thank him.

Nanami wishes he could wipe your tears, but he stays in his spot next to your bed and says, “Call me Kento, I think we’re close enough for you to call me by my first name now.” Nanami wanted to hear you voice say his name, to see your lips move to every consonant and vowel in the beautiful way he'd imagined.

For some reason, the thought of calling him his first name makes you let out a small giggle. You look at his waiting face, “Thank you Kento. Thank you a thousand times over.”

You both sit there smiling at each other as your tears continue to fall. He comforts you how he can and you both stay awake talking late into the night. And that night, before your exhaustion drifted you to a slumber, you imagined the bed shifting next to you and Nanami laying down beside you. His body warming the other side of your bed, and his arms wrapping around you and embracing you.

Nanami waits for you to sleep as he watches from the same spot on your floor, for your breath to slow down and even out. He gets on his knees and hovers a kiss over your lips and another on your forehead.

That would be the last time you saw Nanami. And you would not remember how he helped you or kept you company.

———

Nanami used all the energy he could to leave the house for the first time since shortly after his death. He had only left the house once before and it drained him enough that he could not even mist his body into appearing. But tonight, he had to leave to go see Ijichi, even if that meant risking not having the energy to appear in front of anyone ever again and not knowing where he'll end up.

Nanami leaves the house, tired, but finally leaves and starts to make his way to Ijichi's apartment. Nanami waited for Ijichi, knowing he would open the door at the crack of dawn to leave for work as early as he always did.

Ijichi opened the door and to say the breath was knocked out of him would not be an understatement. Nanami appeared as a faint and transparent figure in front of Ijichi, compared to the opaque figure he could create with you with the energy of the house. Faint and transparent, Ijichi still cried and thanked the heavens for a chance to see Nanami in his fine attire one more time. Nanami spoke fast, saying he did not know how much time he would have, but asked Ijichi for one last favor.

Nanami asks Ijichi to find someone to erase the memory of him in your mind. He did not want to be remembered by you and wanted you to enjoy your life and new-found success without wondering about the what if's. Nanami saw the way you looked at him lately and it broke his heart every single time. He saw you pondering the possibilities and he knew you both were thinking the same things. Nanami wanted you to live, to enjoy your life without thinking of the 'between' where he would stay.

Ijichi agrees and says he will stay in contact with you with the excuse of being your agent. Nanami agrees and stands by his friend's entryway as Ijichi calls someone and they all rush back to the house before you wake. Nanami tells Ijichi how to get in and he quietly stands with Ijichi in the corner of the room as the woman Ijichi called rests her hand on your forehead, altering your memories and giving you peace.

———

Many, many years later…

Your brother and his grandson have just left your house. You sent your nurse home early and now you sit in bed with the photo album your grandnephew made for you and a mug of your favorite tea. Your hand hurts if you hold the tea for too long but you enjoy the warmth of the mug on your stiff hands. You finish looking over the photo album and put it down next to you and shift down your bed to sleep while you think about the precious photos your grandnephew thought to give you. You turn off your lamp and feel yourself drift off to the happy thoughts of your brother and his beautiful family.

You wake up and the sun is barely starting to shine through your window. You move to sit up and it’s… easier. Your back does not hurt, and you were able to sit up much faster than you have in years.

“y/n.”

The familiarity in the voice stops you mid-stretch. You slightly turn and see a man. But... not just any man…. Nanami?

It’s overwhelming. Your eyes are scanning his figure as the memories flood in, the arguing and bickering, the planning, the writing, the laughter, the tears… all of your memories. He’s standing on the other side of the bed and smiles. It’s the biggest smile you’ve ever seen from anyone, especially from him from what you can recall. His eyes no longer hold the sadness from before, it’s – it’s relief?

“I wanted to be the first one you saw after…” he pauses and looks behind you on the bed, “it was peaceful, painless, wasn’t it?”

You follow his gaze and look directly behind you to where he’s looking. And there you are. You’re laying still and it looks like you’re asleep. You scramble away from your figure and stand up in a semi-panic.

Nanami walks around the bed as you keep staring at yourself, dumbfounded, and reaches for you, and touches you. Actually touches you. You flinch at the contact at first but lean into it immediately. It was almost as if your body was waiting for his touch, yearning for it and not being able to relax until the contact finally happened. This was the first time you felt him. His fingers lightly grazed your forearm and slid down to your hand, half intertwining your fingers.

You look away from your body on the bed and look at Nanami. He has stepped closer and is looking at every detail on your face. You look down at your hands and notice they are no longer wrinkled and covered in sunspots. These hands were the hands that typed for hours on end, the hands that covered the floor with sheets of paper, the hands that reached for Nanami's back as he walked away… the hands from when you were young.

“You’re beautiful.” Nanami moves a few strands of loose hair and leaves his hand on your cheek.

“Why did you leave? What happened to you?” You tilt your body to face him, moving closer and snuggling your face into his hand, savoring the feeling of his large hand on your cheek.

“I never left you alone. I was still here, I just didn’t want you to see me,” Nanami sighs. “You needed to live your life, I wanted you to live your life.” He pauses before asking, “do you regret it?”

You step closer to him, your bodies only inches apart, “What?”

“Writing my story, the memories of it all.”

You shake your head. You lived your life after the book, Nanami made sure that you were set before taking a step back and watching from afar, from behind. You could never regret writing his story. After all, it was his house and his story that brought you two together.

Nanami asks another question as he strokes small circles on your cheek with his thumb, “Darling, why didn't you leave — get married?”

Why didn’t you? You think for a moment before answering, “I – I was too attached to this place, I think. I couldn’t leave this house and the thought of it was too sad, I would shut down those conversations immediately when my family would bring it up. I thought maybe it was the memories I had in this place with my family... but I think it was you. Subconsciously, I think I knew it was you I didn't want to leave behind. I never felt like getting married either, I was living well by myself, and I did well.”

He moves both hands to your face, staring into your eyes and rememorizing the mesmerizing color that he missed staring into. The feeling of his fingers finally being able to touch you is almost too overwhelming, “I’m sorry... and thank you. For living so well… and for so long.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and finally, after decades since the first time you thought about it, kiss him. Your first kiss, his soft and supple lips covering yours as he lowers his arms and pulls you in closer. It is slow, so painfully but beautifully slow. You had both fantasized about this moment, the moment to finally feel each other so closely. Nanami pulls away from your lips but drags his lips around your face, kissing random spots over and over again.

You slightly pull away from him and ask, “was I an ugly old woman?”

Nanami laughs at your bizarre question during such an intimate moment. He pulls away as well to drag his eyes to look every detail of your face again, touching your hair and leaning his lips back over your forehead, “No, you were the cutest woman I’ve ever seen.” He leans away again but some of the sadness from before flashes in his eyes, “I just wish I met you during my life... and aged with you to touch your wrinkled hands and run my fingers over your smile lines and grey hair.”

You smile at him to relieve his sadness and move to hold his face, “You can hold me now whenever you'd like. And I can hold you, touch you, whenever I’d like.”

Nanami returns your smile and holds your hands to slowly pull you out of the room. He starts to slowly look around the house and you understand why. You’re leaving – the both of you. This would be the last time you’d be in this house… because you were leaving with Nanami. You follow his lead and look around the house one last time. The kitchen you’d brainstorm in, the living room floor and couch you'd congregate to for the next chapter, the office you’d sneak off to so your mother could not hear you, the bathroom you’d argue in with Nanami when he didn’t agree on a few sentences from a chapter. There were so many memories, with and without Nanami, you lived a long, eventful, and ultimately joyous life.

You both end up back in your room where Nanami looks over your aged body on the bed then the pictures on your nightstand and bookshelf. A full life. A happy ending to a devastating start. He feels your hand on his back, and he turns. The stark contrast to your aged body, the young woman who stood up to him after trying to stab him with a pair of scissors... and trusted him.

You both hear the door pad slide open and the clicking of the buttons. You hold out your hand to Nanami and he happily accepts the hand he'd been yearning to touch. You both walk out of your room and pass by the unknowing nurse walking to your room and hear a gasp followed by quiet prayers. You and Nanami stood to the side as the funeral home came for your body. The respect they showed and the grief of the nurse you loved told you you had done enough, and you were ready to go.

Nanami squeezes your hand a bit and nods towards the main door. You nod to him, and you both start to make your way to the door, saying quiet goodbyes to your favorite parts of your house. Nanami’s house, your house.

“Thank you Kento, for letting me live such a life. And for waiting for me.”

His wide smile returns to his face, “I’ve been waiting decades to hear you say my name again. It’s all I’ve wanted.”

You're both smiling with heads held high amongst the humans who all have somber expressions and their heads down. You pass the foyer and look back one last time. Nanami is not alone, and neither are you. You'd both be together in the next step, happy to finally experience something together in the same form. He softly kisses you again before stepping closer out the door. Hands tightly held together, bodies side-by-side, you both step into the bright white light.

the end

a/n: The Ghost and Mrs. Muir is one of my favorite movies ever. black and white movies fill a very special place in my heart so please please try watching them if you haven't yet!

[gay-wh0re-slut]

When I say angst I mean I’ve read all of your work twice and it’s sooooo good

I need it

OOOHHHHH!!! thank you so so much then! lemme think lemme think!! i hope this one will suit your needs hehe but i’m gonna do just angst w happy ending no smut bc i’m afraid i’m repeating myself so enjoyyy

Just Lovely

rhea x fem!reader

content: just angst, but happy ending! with a kiss probably!

The Feud, everyone called it. You and Rhea had hated each other since the minute you met. Unfortunately, you had some matches against her but the chemistry or lack of made for a good show, so they kept scheduling you to fight. You hated it. You always wanted to stay professional though, so you didn’t want to actually hurt her in the ring, just her ego. You were the complete opposite of her style, girly, flowery, pastels, but you became a heel for her only. Everyone ate it up.

Without requesting, the PA’s would make sure that you were on the completely opposite side of the locker room or in different ones entirely depending on the venue. Neither of you were sure why you hated each other but you didn’t have the will power to figure it out.

One day, the producers told you that you needed to fix the feud for the storyline. You refused of course and you assumed she did too.

“The people want to see the two of you kiss and makeup, essentially,” they said.

“I would rather never see her again, to be honest with you,” you fired back.

“Unfortunately, that can’t happen.”

“Unless she comes to me herself and says that she wants to, which I doubt she will with that big head of hers, I will not ‘kiss and makeup’ for the sake of the story line,” you cross your arms.

The men sighed as they nodded and walked away.

“Do I really have a big head?” the annoying accent said behind you.

You’re kidding, you thought. You turn around with your jaw clenched, rolling your eyes, “you win every match, how can you not?”

“Guess they asked you to play nice, huh?” she walked towards you.

You put your hand up to stop her from coming any closer, “yes.”

She stopped right at your hand, centimeters from her chest. You pull your hand away immediately, what was that about, you thought as your stomach turned.

“And what if I did want to stop ‘the feud’, would that be so bad?” she smiled.

“You’ve hated me the moment I got signed, why would you change now?”

“For the fans…everything I do is for them,” she sounded sincere, but you couldn’t help rolling your eyes.

“Oh shut up, you’re here because you bring in the big bucks, not because of-”

“Don’t start,” she growled.

“Did I pinch a nerve?” you pouted.

“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them,” she admitted.

You felt a soft spot forming for her but you pushed it down, “I don’t have time for this, I have the first match,” you walk away.

The show came and went, but you couldn’t stop thinking about her. She consumed your thoughts, she made you shake and see red anytime you thought of her. It was exhausting, honestly. Part of you wanted to stop this whole thing so that you could rest but it brought you more fame, and unfortunately you wouldn’t be where you are without The Rhea Ripley.

“Hey…uhm, Rhea wants to see you,” the PA was nervous, “I can tell her no, no problem, though she is pretty scary but I can do it.”

“Did she tell you what she wanted?” you were packing your bag.

“N-no, I didn’t get that far,” they were wringing their hands.

You sigh not wanting to scare them more, “It’s okay,” you reassure, “where is she?”

“In locker room 12.”

“Thank you,” you gave a weak smile and walked out of the locker room. You heard them sigh with relief behind you.

So you started making your way across the arena, it felt like. You racked your brain to figure out what she could possibly want. Does she actually want to go through with this? Does she have an ultimatum? Does she want to beat the shit out of me? All these thoughts ran through your head.

You knocked on the door and let yourself in without a response.

“Glad to see you got the stick out of your ass to come here,” she snickered.

“What do you want, Rhea?” you stood just inside the door with your hands on your hips wanting this to be over as soon as possible.

“To talk,” she gestured to the chair, “Is that okay?”

You squinted at her to try to figure out the game she was playing. You stood for a good minute before you decided to sit. You threw your duffle beside the chair as you sat down. You crossed your legs and your arms as you leaned back.

“Thank you,” she sat across from you leaning herself on her knees.

“Psh,” you rolled your eyes.

“About the storylin-” she started.

“I already said no,” you interrupted.

“And I would much rather not do it either, but I’m trying to be the bigger person here, princess,” she mocked.

Your stomach turned again, “For a heel, you’re too nice sometimes, you know that?”

“It’s a curse…anyway,” she leaned back, “I think we should do it.”

“Why?”

“Because we’ll get more attention. In turn, getting more of the women involved, and you know how we’ve been treated,” she seemed to be quite nice but somehow it made you dislike her more.

“I guess so,” you started to swing your leg, “what’s in it for you? There’s always a catch.”

“When has there ever been a catch with me?”

“Oh c’mon, you can’t be anywhere without your puppy dog Dom following you around on and off screen. He brings you more attention than you could on your own,” your tone was pointed.

“Don’t bring Dom into this, this isn’t about him,” she leaned herself back towards you with a point before leaning back again.

“Whatever,” you turn your head away.

“There is no catch, I’m serious. This would be better for both of us.”

You let that sit in the air for a moment before she spoke again.

“Why do you hate me so much?” her voice was small.

You looked back towards her rubbing your tongue over your teeth before you opened your mouth, “I don’t want to get into this,” you start to stand up.

“Please,” she grabbed your wrist.

You’re shocked at her reaction, your stomach turning again. You ripped your hand away from her grip. You stood for a moment contemplating whether or not you should tell her the truth or make something up. So you decide to ask, “Do you want the TV answer or the truth?”

She shrugged as she gestured towards you, letting you choose. She leaned back once more.

You look at your phone for the time, unfortunately it wasn’t as late as you thought it was so that excuse was out. “Fine,” you didn’t sit back down though. “I hate you because I can’t beat you.”

She chuckled, “You’re serious?”

“…Yes.”

“You’re lying. Now I want the truth, because that was obvio-”

“Please shut up,” you rest your head in your hand. You look back at her as she’s smirking, your heart begins to beat faster, “I- yeah, no I can’t do this right now. We have a plane to catch tomorrow.”

You grab your bag and head for the door. Somehow she beats you to it and closes it, basically pinning you to the door. Your breath hitched and your stomach turned. Only now did you realize that it wasn’t sickness, it was butterflies, dammit.

“I want to know. I want to know what I did wrong so I can fix it. If I hurt you, I’m sorry. I’m tired of fighting off camera, you’re the only person who seems to not like me and I want to know why…please,” she admits.

Your breathing was heavier and you didn’t have much air left. You ducked under her arm and went back to the chair leaning your hands on the back of it. She turns to face you, not getting closer.

“Fuck…Damn it,” you said under your breath, “fine!” you threw your hands up in surrender. You were tired of fighting too, you guessed now would be the time to tell her because obviously you didn’t have to balls to start the conversation. “I’m jealous of you.”

“What?”

“I’m jealous of you! Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Well…no,” she leaned against the door with her arms crossed.

“Well, I am. You’re so popular, and strong, and your fans absolutely adore you, they’d do anything for you. You get everything you want here and more! It’s ’Monday Night Mami’ for crying out loud,” your face was red and you could feel the tears starting to form but you pushed them back.

She let you continue.

“Even Triple H loves you, the writers love you, everyone loves you. I get jack shit when I walk into the ring. I’ve tried everything to get people to like me, I’m the girly girl who hates you because we’re complete opposites,” a single tear fell down your face, “I’m tired of being compared to the other girls. I don’t know how you do it. So I’m jealous okay, that’s why I… don’t like you.”

She stared at you for a minute before she grabbed a tissue from the box on the counter and handed it to you.

“And you’re too nice,” you added.

“Well that I can vouch for but the rest?” she lifted your chin to wipe the tear away, “I worked my ass off to get here, that’s why people love me I like to believe. Nothing was handed to me though it may seem like it. Like I said earlier, everything I do is for my fans, seriously, if it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t be pushing myself to be better.”

“God this is embarrassing,” you sniff.

“It isn’t, I’m glad you’re telling me,” she rubbed your shoulder.

You gave her a weak smile before brushing off her hand and stepping away from her, “that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want to change the storyline.”

“Not even for one match?”

“No,” you crumble up the tissue, “being mean to you on camera is too fun,” you giggled.

“Right,” she sighed dramatically, “it would be a shame if we became best friends and won the tag team titles though.”

“Don’t dangle that in front of me,” you point.

“The writers love a redemption arc,” she kept going.

“Stop it,” you begin to smile.

“Or maybe, we could kiss and makeup on camera for our next match instead of fighting?” she swayed towards you.

“W-we could do that,” the butterflies in your stomach were sprinting. Her eyes were filled with hunger, her stance was powerful.

“Or,” you hoped this was her last suggestion, “we could kiss and makeup right here?” she brushed a strand behind your ear.

You backed away, “What?”

“Oh, c’mon, you don’t think the jealousy was a cover up for the crush you have on me? Even subconsciously?” she smirked.

“I do not have a crush on you,” you lied.

“So if I did this,” she cupped your cheek, “You don’t feel anything?”

Your face got hot and heart beat faster than it ever has before, “Nope,” you lie again.

“Well,” she dropped her hand, “That’s a shame. We could’ve been WWE’s It couple,” she sighed.

“D-Do you have a crush on me?” you asked surprised at your realization.

“No, I just wanted to mess with you,” running her hands through her beautiful jet black hair, you watched as her arms muscles tensed and released with every movement, “yes I have a crush on you, idiot.”

You shook yourself from your gaze, “Are you serious?”

“I don’t care if people hate me,” she scoffed, “but I do care if I hurt somebody, so that part was true. I didn’t want you to hate me because I don’t hate you.”

“I’m so confused right now,” you rub your eyes, “what do you mean you have a crush on me?”

“I. Like. You,” she took a step closer to you with every word. “It’s not hard to understand.”

“But I’ve been so mean to you.”

“I like a mean girl every once in a while,” she smirked. She was now standing in front of you looking down into your eyes. You weren’t much shorter than her but enough to where it made your knees weak.

You couldn’t say anything, you were in shock.

She lifted your chin again to make full eye contact with you, “Now, can I kiss you or no?”

You slowly nodded your head.

“You sure?”

You nodded your head more seriously this time.

She cupped your face with both hands and brought her lips to yours. Fireworks went off in your head, you couldn’t believe this was happening. Your lips danced against hers perfectly as your hands brought her waist into yours. Your heads tilting in sync, from one side to the other, you didn’t want to let go.

Sadly, she let go, “so,” she breathed, “my room or yours?”

[countryclubkook]

Drunken Festivities

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem!reader

Warnings: light smut (minors don't interact), language, alcohol mentions, fluff, A LOT of drunken giggles, not proof read

Summary: you and Rafe get drunk and things don't go according to plan

“Ow babe, you go left. I go right” you said after Rafe had bumped his head into yours for the third time.

Both of you had a few drinks in your system so you were drunk and decided you needed each other right that second. It wasn't going well so far, each time Rafe moved one way to leave a kiss on your neck, you moved your head in the same direction. You'd wake up in the morning with a raging headache from either a nasty hangover or from the hard thud of Rafe's head colliding with yours.

“Sorry sorry, okay try again” he let out a drunken laugh before finally doing what he’d been trying to do for five minutes.

“There we go” a small moan came from you as he began sucking on the sweet spot.

His fingers lightly brushed against your stomach which caused you to let out a laugh. He pulled away from your neck to look at you in confusion.

“What? What happened?”

“It tickled” you managed to get out in your string of drunken giggles “I'm sorry, just keep going” pulling him back down to your neck.

Your eyes closed in contentment until you heard Rafe making a weird sound with his mouth forcing your eyes open and turning to look at him. He was using his free hand to swat at his mouth while trying to spit something out but looked like he was failing at the task. You brought your hand up to your mouth to mask your laugh to no avail.

“Babe it's not funny, next time wear your hair up. I mean don't get me wrong, I love the smell of your shampoo and whatever, but I do NOT want to taste it” his voice was so serious that it only made you laugh more.

Rafe rolled his eyes and went to just lay down but you pulled him into a messy kiss. Your hands eagerly moved to his pants to pull them off, his boxers following immediately after, and lifted your hips to strip down yourself. You grabbed his cock and stroked it slowly loving the sounds he made against your mouth.

“Fuck baby, need to be inside you now. Waited so long for this” his voice full of desperation.

You let out a small moan before lining him up with your entrance and feeling him slowly enter you. He always managed to stretch you out so well and it felt like the first time, especially now that you had alcohol in your systems. Rafe slowly began thrusting, not wanting to rush anything, and groaned when you let out a loud moan. He could listen to the sounds you made all fucking day.

“Rafe, faster” you moaned out, hands flying to his back as he sped up his pace.

It felt like he was bruising your cervix at the pace and angle he was at and you were sure you wouldn't last long. That was until 5 minutes had gone by and there was no buildup in your stomach and no sign of upcoming orgasm from Rafe. This never happened so maybe it just wasn't long enough? Maybe a new position would help?

“Wait wait wait” you said, moving to push Rafe away.

“What? What is it? Are you okay?” he asked frantically as he pulled out immediately. Even when he wasn't sober, Rafe was always so concerned about you.

“Yeah yeah I'm fine, just want to change positions is all” you let out a small laugh when he sighed in relief and moved from being on top of you so you could move.

Doggy style was one of your favorite positions so you got on all fours, wiggling your ass to be a tease, and waited for Rafe to continue. He let out a loud groan that definitely wasn't from pleasure and quickly turned your head to him. You saw him clutching his nose and contorted your face in confusion.

“Baby…you kicked me when you were moving. You’ve got to be more careful” you felt bad for laughing but you couldn't control it.

“Oh shit, I'm sorry” trying to sound as sincere as possible.

“Yeah yeah whatever, let's try this again” he mumbled, moving to get behind you.

You felt his cock rub up and down your folds to lube himself up before pushing himself into you again, the new position making it feel so much better. Both of you let out a moan at the feeling as he began thrusting into you quickly. It felt so good, and he was filling you up so well, but the feeling still never came. You waited for that familiar feeling of your stomach feeling like a balloon was expanding inside it and for Rafe to stutter his hips as he got closer, but it just wasn't coming (just like the two of you weren’t either).

“Um,” you said awkwardly “I don't think this is working tonight” you said with a small laugh.

“I'm so glad you said that” he sighed in relief as you signaled for him to pull out.

You both laid in the bed facing each other and just staring at each other for a few seconds before he burst out in laughter. You tried to look upset but you couldn't help the laugh that came out of you as well. This was just such a bizarre experience, you'd both wanted this so bad but you were too drunk to even get off and so now you were quite literally laughing in each other's faces.

“Well, I don't know about you” Rafe managed to get out after he'd calmed down a bit “but I'm tired and just want to cuddle with my girl” moving to wrap his arm around you.

You snuggled into his shoulder and closed your eyes as you relaxed. This only lasted for a few minutes before you began tossing and turning in his arms and shooting your eyes wide open, letting out a loud annoyed sigh.

“Rafe” you nudged him hoping he hadn't passed out already.

“Hm?” he mumbled out meaning he wasn't asleep, but wasn't fully awake either.

“I'm too fucking hot to cuddle” normally you would suck it up and deal with it, but not tonight. You couldn't handle it tonight, the mix of body heat, sweat still on your body from the prior activity, and alcohol was too much.

“Ugh” he groaned just wanting to have you close to him and be able to touch you. He reluctantly let go of you so you could crawl to your own side of the bed.

It was silent for a few seconds more before you made a suggestion. “We can touch toes if you want”

“What? No you weirdo” he scoffed.

“Oh okay, it was just a suggestion but it's cool”

You figured it was time to try and get some sleep and just hope your head wasn't pounding in the morning. Right as you were about to fall asleep, you felt something touching your feet. You yanked the blanket up and looked down to see what it was and shook your head seeing Rafe's toes against yours.

“Oh I'm the weirdo huh?” you teased out loud mainly to yourself but also for Rafe to hear if he was still awake.

“Oh shut up. Goodnight, I love you” he laughed.

“Yeah yeah, I love you too. Even if you touched my toes after calling me a weirdo for suggesting it” a pillow landing on your face as he threw one at you and turned to face away from you.

You let out a laugh before closing your eyes and going to sleep knowing full well you'd wake up with your limbs tangled and intertwined with Rafes.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

I cannot get enough of ur Tangerine smut LAWD I love it. Would you ever write one where he and the reader are on a mission and Tan screws up something so the reader lets out her anger (& repressed attraction) on him by throwing a punch so he puts her in her place & it just gets FILTHY😩

hii! thank you! omg I LOVE shit like this, and the tension🤭 you wanted filthy, im giving you filthy. also sorry it’s taken so long. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

wrong turn

Tangerine x fem!Reader

wc || 1.9k (oops, couldn’t stop writing it)

warnings || 18+ only. swearing + explicit content (literal word porn, repressed attraction kinda sex- the good kind. p in v) minors dni

masterlist + rules

taglist

Being professional partners with Tangerine was never easy, especially if Lemon wasn’t there to diffuse tension. You desperately relied on Lemon to be the buffer between you and Tangerine, but unfortunately, he was back at home, bed-bound with tonsillitis. So this week, it was just you and Tangerine, together for five long days in an unfamiliar city.

“You’re going the wrong way.” You state, pointing to the sign before he gets a chance to speed past.

“I’m not, this is the right way.” He grumbles, keeping his eyes on the road in front.

“No, this way is going into the city centre- it’s the wrong way.” Quickly checking the mirrors, grabbing the steering wheel to change lanes.

“What you doing? You prick… great. Stuck behind this fuckin knob.” He groans, honking at the lorry in front.

“There is a speed limit, you know.” You snark.

“Speed limit, my arse.” Swerving around the lorry that was hogging the lane.

“You don’t have to be such a prat.” You prod.

His neck whips around to flash you a face that said ‘come again?’ Immediately covering your mouth to stifle a cackle. “See? It’s the right way.” You taunt once more.

“Fuck off.” He mumbles under his breath.

“What’s that?” Tilting your head to the side.

“I said, well done.” Forcing a sarcastic smile, giving you an obnoxious thumbs up.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” You jest, turning your attention to your window to hide your grin.

“Now, I’m fuckin lost.” He grumbles, pulling into a ditch.

“We’re gonna miss them.” You point out, checking the time on your phone. “I knew I should’ve driven… they’ve probably already left-“

“Will you shut up?” He groans, emphasising each word.

“No… if you weren’t so arrogant, we’d be there and gone by now.”

“Yeah, that’s real helpful, that.” He snarks, thumping his head back against the headrest.

“Let me drive?”

“No.”

“Why?” Face contorting. “I won’t crash your precious car.” You mock.

“You’re an awful driver.” He gutturally laughs to taunt you. “You go over a curb and you’re like ‘oops’” Grinning at the memory earnestly.

“No, I don’t.” You defend yourself, trying not to laugh.

“Yes, you do. You did it last week.” Deeply chuckling.

“When?” You object.

“Um, last week… Lem nearly went through the fuckin windshield.”

“Oh shut up- that didn’t happen.”

“Maybe… because you were…” pausing to lower his voice. “Singing to your music.”

“Sod off. Now move, we’re never gonna get there.” Swatting him from his seat.

“No.” Pushing your hands away to grip the steering wheel, pulling from the curb to continue driving.

“You have some issues.” You mimicked, slouching and sulking in your seat.

“Not the first woman to tell me that.” He added, grinning with his eyes glued to the road.

When you both finally arrive at the location, you notice the lack of cars parked outside the warehouse. Staring through the window, looking over your shoulder to Tan. “Where is everyone?”

“We must’ve missed them.” He claims.

“‘We’? Nah, you missed them. You got too much penis pride.” You state indifferently. Your eyebrows pull together when you hear him snicker from behind.

“Penis pride?” He mocks, hiding a grin.

“Shut up, you know what I meant.”

“Nah, I don’t. Elaborate.” His head tilted to the side.

“Your need to be in charge because of” pausing briefly to face him again. “…that.” Pointing downwards.

“‘That’? He chuckles deeply. “You mean my cock.” His head lowering, his smirk taunting you.

“Shut up.” Turning back around to hide your burning cheeks.

“You blushing?” He mentions.

“No.”

“I can see you, you know.” He scoffs, waving into your window so you could see his reflection.

Quickly raising your hand to smack the light off, flashing him a scowl.

“Did I make you nervous?” He taunts one more, tapping the exposed skin on the nape of your neck. Immediately swatting it away, slapping his hand. “Anybody ever tell you not to touch a woman without her permission?” You ask with a faux glare.

Raising his hands to show his innocence, dropping them into his lap. “If I’d ask, you’d say yes.” He grins, leaning towards your seat. “Am I correct?

“You should be more annoyed about this.” You change the subject, gesturing to the empty warehouse.

“It weren’t my fault.” He shrugs.

“This again?”

“You brought it up.”

“It’s frustrating that you won’t admit it.”

“Admit what?”

Your face screws up, clearly growing irritated.

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” He taunts again.

Twisting around, smacking him hard against his bicep.

“Do it again… I dare you.” His head lowers, staring into your eyes.

Lifting your hand, you ball it into a fist, hitting him again. He wraps his hand around your wrist, holding it as he pulls it away. “I don’t think so.” He shakes his head, lowering your hand to his thigh.

His grip over your hand was loose so you had plenty of opportunity to pull away, but you didn’t. You just stared into his eyes as you silently agreed to let his hand move yours. Trailing it up his thigh.

“Look down.” He says quietly, his eyes nodding to his crotch.

Slowly glancing down, noticing the huge tent in his trousers. Turning your gaze back to his face, pleadingly looking up at him through hooded eyes.

His fingers softly brush up your thigh, intensely staring at your shallow breathing chest. Lingering a singular finger up your arm until he reached your neck, slowly trailing up your throat and up to your parted lips. Brushing over the soft skin, staring directly into your soul.

It was like some sort of mind game, a game to see who would crack first. You wanted it to be him, but the way he touched you so lightly made you question your strength.

His other hand continues to graze up your thigh, itching upwards and leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. It was like a switch went off in your brain that told you ‘fuck it.’ Crawling yourself over the gearstick to straddle his thick thighs. Instinctively he slides his seat back, allowing more space for you. Gently yanking the sides of your face, desperately pulling you in for an urgent kiss. Brashly working over yours with soft content groans, his hands sliding down to grip your neck. Loosely holding as he trails kisses along your throat, his thumb lifting your jaw to allow him better access, grazing wet hurried kisses along the skin.

His hands snake around your back, his fingers spread wide as he clasps your skin, desperately needing to feel more of you. Lazily licking up your throat to resume deep kisses to your needy lips.

His fingers lightly teasing over your back, travelling down to grip your waist. Pulling you further down into his lap, grinding you against his aching clothed cock. “Fuckin hell.” He groans between kisses, heavily exhaling into your mouth.

Pulling yourself in him closer, your chest flush with his. Wrapping your arms around his neck and tangling your fingers in his hair to deepen the heavy makeout.

“I want to fuck you so bad.” He murmurs against your skin. Sliding his hands under your clothing so he could freely roam your body. Grazing his fingertips over your hot flesh.

“I want you.” Burying your face into the nape of his neck, quietly panting against his skin.

Tan looks up at you, scanning your face, taking in the beauty of your natural features. Eyes darting over your face.

“What?” You ask, a hint of worry in your voice.

“Nothing… you’re just beautiful.” He grins, nuzzling his face between your chest.

“Softie.” You sweetly joke, smiling down at him. Your eager hands unbuttoned his shirt, as he fiddled with yours, practically ripping your top from you. His palms immediately clutching to your chest with a wide grin across his face, kneading into them through your bra.

He snakes his hands over your hips, grabbing them to lift you up. Instinctively, you reach down to undo his trousers, unzipping them so he could slide the fabric out from under himself. Slipping your hands down, prying away the waistband of his boxers, allowing his cock to spring out and stand attentively against his stomach.

His fingers slide up your inner thighs, roaming over the wet patch in your underwear. Smirking as he slips his hand into the fabric, teasing through your wet folds. Separating the fabric and dragging it over to the side to create an opening for him.

Gripping himself from the base, giving himself a couple firm tugs, never once leaving your eyes. Scanning your face for permission once more, to which you eagerly nod.

Lifting yourself to hover over him, aligning yourself with his tip. Gripping himself, sliding his head through your slick. Slowly pushing himself into you, urgently grabbing around your waist to pull you closer to his chest. Steadily lowering you down, allowing his full length to completely fill you. Melting and moulding around him as he keeps you still, bottoming out. You desperately wrap your arms back around his neck, urgently bringing his face into your chest. Your neck slack, as soft pleading whimpers escape your parted lips.

He lifts you from him, lowering you down to sink back in. Leisurely bucking his hips so you could engulf his sensitive cock. He softly sucks on your lower neck, nibbling and grazing sloppy kisses up the length.

Grasping your skin tightly as he winds himself up into you, softly groaning against your now red skin. Milling your hips, grinding yourself over him. Working your walls over his cock, massaging yourselves with every gentle bounce.

He slides his hands up your back, tangling his fingers into a lock of hair at the back of your head, gently tugging to brashly kiss up your throat. Purposely marking you, littering small red patches in a trail behind.

Desperately running your hands over his chest, brushing over his shoulders and sinking your fingers in. Clasping at his muscly torso, dropping your head into the nape of his neck, breathing staggered whimpers against his skin.

His thrusts become more focused as he pokes up into you, grabbing you urgently to fuck you down into himself. Deeply groaning against your collarbone, messily kissing along it.

“Can I cum in you?” He asks in almost a whimper.

Nodding vigorously as your whines grow louder, gripping the back of his head and pushing it into your bouncing chest.

Clamping down, your walls spasming and fluttering around him with your climax. Your intense shudders draw out his own release, spilling deep inside of you.

Slowing down he continues to sloppily fuck his cum into you, holding your jaw to gaze into your eyes. Eagerly pulling your face towards his, slipping his tongue into your mouth, enthusiastically working over your lips.

Breathlessly separating, he sweetly looks up at you before brushing a few rouge strands of hair behind your ear. You slowly lift yourself from him, hovering over his thighs as you smile widely at him. Shifting your weight so you could sit across his thighs, comfortably snuggling yourself into his chest.

“I’m quite glad they weren’t here.” You say quietly, snickering at the memory of what you just did.

“Should’ve done that ages ago.” He chuckles, draping his arm over your shoulder to pull you closer.

Both individually grinning to yourselves, consumed by the post-sex glaze over.

You twist your head up to look at him. “You ready to admit you were wrong?” You smirk.

“Ready to admit you’re a bad driver?”

[wildestheart4ever]

@stealingyourbones, I know you already got a post about this au, but I really want to share this with you.

I really really want to write a bodyswap fic, I blame this post x

Scenes and shit have been rattling around in my head all morning while I was reorganizing my reblogs. I might not actually write it ever, but here are some things that I put into consideration

The bodyswap is between Danny the day of the accident and Jason after being dunked in the Pit, yes? Yes.

Now Danny, Danny is all brand new to this shit, right? No superhero experience, no ghost experience, no fresh added trauma [besides - you know! Thinking he’s gonna die]. The most exciting|terrifying thing he’s experienced beforehand is his dad’s driving - so given the events of the accident, I imagine he must be feeling pretty terrified waking up in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by strangers, in a body that definitely isn’t his own.

Jason is a tough one, cause I don’t know if he was even the slightest bit aware of his situation pre!Lazarus Pit. If everything was muddled impressions, I’d imagine waking up in a body that just went through an alarming electrocution [and whatever side affects it brought besides the obvious] would be the first thing he’d notice. He’d be in pain, but he’d push that aside to take in the situation: Convulsive pains, everything feels wrong, disturbing basement lab, a massive glowing portal behind him, two teens crying and calling out for someone name Danny

But they’re looking at him

I’d like to think Robin training kicks in immediately, so he tries to comfort them and put them at ease before reaching out to reassure them all while trying to find any sign of this Danny.

Cue seeing the small white-gloved hand and finally taking notice of the prepubescent body he’s currently in possession of.

Now considering the fact pre!Lazarus Pit events might’ve been muddled to him in his catatonic state, the small stature might not be all that confusing to him, though the lack of lean muscle might be.

How confusing must that be? No recollection of the years that past, yet you come back to awareness in a body as small as you last might’ve remembered it.

Sam and Tucker probably assume his silence is due to him finally noticing the change in his appearance. So they trying calling his attention

“Danny, you okay?” “It’s clearly obvious he’s not okay” “Hey! I don’t see you trying to do anything.”

With a pit of dread in his stomach, Jason looks up at the two, confused and slowly coming to very correct conclusions, and asks “Who the hell is Danny?” 

Sam and Tucker are a little too worried the portal might’ve scrambled his memory to be thrown off by the cursing, “Oh man, I knew this was a bad idea. His parents are gonna flip when they find out.” “Doubt it, I think they’ll be a little too excited over the portal being on to wonder what happened.” “....Okay, but Jazz will definitely be freaking out.” “We need to get him out of here.”

Cue them trying jog Danny’s memory while dragging him up to his room, which just cements Jason’s horrible no good theory.

Danny was put in some random room, left to his devices to come down from first time Lazarus episode [Whatever that is], he can’t take any comfort or guidance from the strange woman, confused by the fact she keeps calling him Jason. Trying to stomp down the fear that has a choke hold on him, he tries to pinpoint anything familiar about his current location, but he can’t garner much of anything from what he can see out the window. 

Frustrated, he focuses his attention on the body he’s currently possessing. He might’ve thought this was a gone-to-the-future experience, but there’s no familiar birthmarks or scars on this body [and by the firm reminder that this body belongs to a Jason].

He’s still stumbling on these longer legs and under the extra mass

He might’ve been a little horrified and nauseated by the Y shaped scar running down his [Jason’s] torso.

Okay, so he probably jumps to the conclusion that things might’ve gotten mixed up in the portal with whatever necromancy these weirdos were up to. Now he’s just wondering if his friend’s are freaking out over his corpse....or over whoever this Jason guy is.

Jason. Does it take a while to convince Sam and Tucker that he is not their friend Danny? Yes, does it take another minute to convince them he did not possess their friend’s body on purpose? Also yes, his foot is still suffering under the girl’s clunky boot as she tried threatening him for info.

This is after he gets himself worked up and finding out Danny Fenton’s body isn’t that much of an animated corpse after all [Thank god, the lack of heartbeat was really creeping him out], much to everyone’s relief.

Does he fall into a bit of a panic attack at being asked what’s the last thing he remembers? Definitely, and now these kids look just as put off as he feels.

Does it nearly happen again when he learns that neither he, nor Gotham, nor Bruce Wayne exist in this universe? Also yes, but it’s nice to know they’re at least getting somewhere.

Is Danny Fenton an alternate universe version of him????

It takes a hot minute to get his head on straight and form some kinda of plan: Keep this on the down low, explore this Ghost Zone in hopes of finding anything about dimensional travel, and keep this kid’s life in track.

How much of his identity should he keep from Sam and Tucker? It’s not like he exists in this universe.

Danny knows he’s in deep shit. He doesn’t have the complete picture, and he still isn’t sure if Jason was here with these assassins willingly or not [He’s leaning more on not, considering the situation he woke up to]. And the longer he’s here, the further into a corner he’s finding himself in.

The woman, Thalia, is getting suspicious. She stopped trying to talk about him about his mission and his training when any information she brought wrought no visible reaction from him [Why should he care if this random Bruce Wayne guy adopted a kid?? Who’s Batman - and what guy goes running around in a bat themed costume calling himself that????] and it takes an admittedly embarrassing time to realize these things are all related to owner of this body.

His immediate thought is to act. Act disoriented, act like he’s still reeling from whatever it is these people did to this guy [It’s obvious it was smth serious, if Thalia’s whispered assurances on giving him time to adjust were anything to go by].

So he does, and he doesn’t know if he manages to convince Thalia [He’s never been that good at acting], but it gets her to back off. He’s got more time on his hands, more time to figure out how to get out of this secret fortress, more time to ponder what this guy was like so he doesn’t fudge up and get himself killed.

Jason. If there’s one thing he is certain of, it’s that this kid’s place is one giant OSHA violation. Sam and Tucker had to go home, leaving him with the enthusiastic weirdos that were Danny’s parents - they haven’t stopped yammering on in excitement over finding their life’s work suddenly working.

Did they not notice anything off about their son, were he and Danny that much alike in personality that they haven’t noticed? Even so, why were they not asking questions?? Where was the concern and anger over their son and his friends fooling around with dangerous equipment???

No, instead they were talking about how this success would improve their research, about the containment measures they’d make to do their studying. They seemed to notice nothing wrong with what was supposed to be their son.

It infuriated him.

The only one who seemed to show any concern was the sister [Jazz, her name is Jazz]. She was the one who fussed over him after hearing the trios carefully crafted story, she was the one who scolded him for messing around with the parents equipment, she was the one scorning her parents for leaving their portal in such dangerous conditions.

Why was this girl being more of a parent than the parents???

The fact that dinner once again [and isn’t that a concerning thought] came to life and tried mauling them didn’t help ease the anger.

Everything about this screamed wrongness to him.

[starryevermore]

hide and seek ✧ steven grant & marc spector

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: I had a writing idea for steven/Marc. I more or less live in a fanfic fantasy most of the time and I been wondering. What if the reader had been dating steven, knows about his alters but haven't met them, and one night. You're sleeping at his place and you just see moonknight himself walk in the door before changing back to Marc. And not only is that the first meeting marc but the reader is terrified bc scary masked man is actually boyfriend? And I am at a loss of what would happen in the hours and days after seeing that. I found you on wattpad and love your work - valatheapprentice 

pairing: steven grant x fem!reader x marc spector

summary: you have yet to meet steven’s other half, but when you see him on accident after coming home from a mission, you realize you can’t keep this game up anymore. 

word count: 1,110

warnings?: pet name (love), not proofread

It wasn’t often that you stayed over at Steven’s flat. While Steven had learned that his sleeping disorder was actually DID and the reason he’d wake up with days completely missing was because Marc had been fronting, he was still nervous about you being there. Marc knew of you, and he knew you were dating Steven. But you had never met him. Steven worried about what might happen if you and him went to sleep together and you woke up in Marc’s arms. Would you freak out? Would he? Would it be a complete recipe for disaster? Whatever it would end up being, you and Steven decided to keep you staying over to a minimum until you and Marc were introduced and at least comfortable enough for the morning awkwardness. 

This weekend, however, had been an exception. Marc had apparently promised Steven that he wouldn’t front for the entire weekend, letting Steven have some much needed time with you. And it had been completely lovely. You and Steven went to a new restaurant that had opened up nearby. You watched cheesy romance movies. You snuggled up on the couch as Steven read. You had the most amazing sex before falling asleep in his arms. 

But now…Now it was weird.

It was one in the morning when you woke up to a half-empty bed. Steven was nowhere to be found. Shit. As you looked around, trying to find any sign of where he might of been, you realized the two of you fucked up by not making Khonshu promise to leave the two of you alone. Fuck that stupid pigeon. 

You let out a sigh, stumbling to the kitchen. Well, you weren’t going to go back to sleep so easily. You were to pissed at the pigeon to go back to sleep. Might as well make yourself a snack or something, maybe tune into some cheesy show. So, you made yourself a sandwich, sank into the couch cushions, and turned on Gilmore Girls.

Halfway into Paris’s meltdown from not getting into Harvard, the door creaked open. You were immediately on your feet, ready to take Steven into your arms, kiss him better from the stupid shit Khonshu put him through. But the man in front of you…That was not Steven. Steven wore the white suit, not the armor that looked like it had been wrapped in mummy bandages. 

“Shit.”

The mask melted away, revealing the face you were oh so familiar with but just a slight bit different. Marc’s face was tenser, like he was holding everything back. It was so strange to see the man you loved look so different, act so different. 

“Marc?”

“Love?” The armor melted away, and Marc went with it. Steven stumbled forward, taking you in his arms. “I’m so sorry. Khonshu needed us, and Marc was better for the mission, and I didn’t think you would wake up before we got back and I’m so sorry—”

“Shh, it’s okay. Let’s just go back to bed, okay?”

You didn’t see Marc again for a week. You didn’t hear from him, either. It was strange. Even though you’d never formally met the guy, Steven usually kept you updated on how Marc was doing. Now, it was like it was before, when neither you nor Steven had any idea Marc ever existed. 

When you tried to breach the topic with Steven, he would stammer and stumble over his words until he redirected the conversation to how big of a bitch Donna is or how he found this new book he was dying to read or literally any other topic of conversation that didn’t involve Marc. 

At this point, it was pissing you off. Why were they acting like this? Why was Marc avoiding you? Before, you understood. You had never really met him, and he wanted to give you time with Steven. But now, now you had seen him, spoke to him. How could he keep hiding? You didn’t have to see the guy everyday. You just wanted to have a conversation with him, clear the air and all that. And why was Steven aiding Marc in his hiding? Steven had always been gung ho about the two of you eventually meeting. Now that you kind of sort of had met, he was helping Marc run away? What the fuck was up with that? 

You decided the only course of action was to surprise them, to catch them off guard. So, you went to Steven’s flat when you figured that Marc might be fronting. And, oh, you were right. 

“Uhh—” Marc stammered when he opened the door to see you. 

“Don’t go,” you said. “I just wanna talk about what happened the other night.”

Marc swallowed hard but nodded, letting you into the flat. You went to sit on the couch, Marc taking a seat on the other end. “What do you wanna talk about?”

“I just wanted to finally talk to you. I mean, you’re part of Steven. I fully want to spend the rest of my life with Steven. But I don’t know how this is gonna work if we never meet. I don’t expect us to be more than just acquaintances. We don’t have to be friends or anything like that. I just want us to be able to get along well enough for Steven’s sake, you know? Because that man adores you, and I know it hurts him for us to keep avoiding this.”

Marc sucked in a breath. “I don’t wanna keep hurting Steven, either. I just…I didn’t know how to talk to you.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Steven, he loves you so much. He thinks you hung all the stars in the sky. And I…I was terrified that I was going to screw things up for Steven if I ever, you know, tried to talk to you. I couldn’t do that to him. Not when he loves you so much.” Marc looked away. “All I’ve wanted for him is the best, and I know you’re the best woman he ever could be with. If I was the one who ruined that for him, I’d never forgive myself.”

You scooted closer, reaching out and grabbing his hand, giving it a squeeze. “You couldn’t scare me away even if you tried.” 

“Not even showing up in the middle of the night in Khonshu’s ceremonial armor?”

“Not even then.” You gave his hand another squeeze. “Now, how about we order some pizza, put something on the TV, and just try to get to know each other, okay? No running, no hiding.”

Marc smiled ever so slightly. “That’d be great.”

[flutter2deceive]

Bitching about financials and job things under the cut

My company announced like 2 months ago that our jobs are being eliminated, but it's like this nebulous thing because they're outsourcing and we need to transfer all our products, so my end date isn't until 3/31/2026. Like that's so far in the future and I'm gonna get severence (at end date, i will have worked there for 20 years literally over half my life) + a retention bonus, so I'll be ok for a little while after the fact i think i hope

But anyway i decided to immediately start cost-cutting 2 months ago:

•canceled subscriptions (canceled hulu, paramount+ (i have a plex server hookup anyway), canceled ubereats (and also stopped ordering from them altogether), canceled or went down a level on my minimal patreon subs)

•signed up for Shell's rewards system (it's literally free and you save at least 20cents/gallon every single time and sometimes more without having to spend any money you just click a button and boom extra 10cents if you fill up on a specific day.)

•haven't done *any* fun online shopping or regular store shopping for that matter

•severely cut down my fast food spending (i'm sorry taco bell ily), and as my friends are in similar financial woes, we've stopped ordering food every weekend and opted to make cheap dinners where we each bring some small component like 1 brings pasta 1 brings sauce 1 brings garlic bread

•this isn't a recent change, but i never go out anywhere for like drinks or to see local comedy shows like i used to frequently do. I'm a homebody who goes into the office twice a week and goes to my best friend's house on saturdays and just sits at home the rest of the time

Even with all that!! My debit card is at $26, my 1 credit card is $3 away from its limit, the other is $21 from its limit. I *thankfully* get my paycheck at midnight, but like... woof!

Last paycheck i was down to less than $100 the day before as well. It's so mind-boggling to me that it's this bad. Partially because I've had some unfortunately-timed plumbing issues and had to pay a pricey deductible (but glad i have the insurance obv cuz of how much the total cost would've been otherwise.) But also partially cuz i feel like shit is so much more fucking expensive than it's ever been!! And the last gallon of milk i bought and properly refrigerated went sour like a full week before its expiration date.

I have a decent job and make pretty good money (for now at least.) I have made several cost-cutting measures recently. I feel like I don't *do* anything. And it literally doesn't matter!!

My best friend who has an equally comfortable job told me he had about the same amount of $ as me to last him til his next paycheck too.

And on top of the financial stress, i am so fucking stressed at work because no one knows what they're doing and i keep getting roped into things at the last minute with an IM that says "hey got time for a quick call?" And then i end up having to put together a complicated spreadsheet that is needed by end of week. Why didn't you fucking ask sooner than 2pm on a thursday?! Oh cuz someone who will still have a job at the end of this didn't do what they were supposed to? Ok sure I'll get right on that. And I do. I do get right on that and have it back to you within a couple hours. Because i stupidly care about my job.

Ugghhh i hate everything atm... Except i was able to livestream my favorite singer Terri Clark's debut concert at The Ryman tonight. And i have a ton of Fran/CC fanfics queued up to read. And the Ghosts discord is constantly coming up with the cutest scenarios for H$, my current otp. And i am off the entire next week because next Friday is my birthday. And my dog is snoring.

So i guess it hasn't been such a bad day after all, Charlie Brown... or some such sentimental nonsense 🙃🙃🙃

[raissas-ultraviolence]

wolfstar (wholesome oneshot! canon-compliant ig)

It was half past one in the evening.  Sirius stirred, warm light of the sun leaking in his eyes from the blinds-open windows. He blinked groggily and sat up to see James and Peter engaged in a heated chess match on the dorm floor on the foot of his bed. 

"Agh, you chess boffin!" James shrieked in frustration as Peter checkmated him.

Peter grinned triumphantly, sticking out his tongue. 

"...Moony?" Sirius called out when he realized he woke up alone.

"Oh, hiya! Good morn- uh, afternoon, Sirius!" James chirped.

"Uh, where's Remus?" Sirius asked, rubbing his eyes then furrowing his brows.

"Oh, uh…not sure. Probably busy in the library," James replied, a hint of hesitation in his voice.

"Yeah, wouldn't be surprised if that swot was revising on a Saturday," Peter chimed in with a nervous chuckle.

"Hm, he went off without a word?" Sirius wondered with a slight frown.

Peter chewed his lip and glanced at James, who returned a look of shared uncertainty and shrugged.

"Umm, look, mate," James solemnly stared into Sirius’ eyes and suddenly lowered his voice, "I reckon it's best to leave him be."

"Yeah, he seemed a bit miffed earlier. Got up, had a shower, barely said a word when we greeted him ‘good morning’ and asked where he was off to. You really ought to let him be alone for a bit.”

“Mm, just in one of his moods, probably. He’ll cool down on his own.”

Defiant, Sirius rose to his feet, washed up, and went to made his way to the library. But, he found no sign of Remus. Growing worried, he immediately looked at the Marauder's Map, which revealed Remus was far off in the outdoor parts of the campus. 

“That’s bizarre, what could he possibly be doing out there?” he muttered to himself.

After a few minutes of frantic searching, Sirius found himself gasping for breath as he leaned against a nearby tree for support.

"Er, you alright?" a voice interrupted his panting.

Sirius looked up to see Remus Lupin sitting on a bench, a book on his lap.

"Moony! There you are, thank Merlin!” Sirius stood up still and exclaimed, relief washing over him.

"Whoa!" Remus raised his hands in surprise, before surrendering into Sirius’  embrace, “What's up?"

Sirius shifted and sat next to Remus, letting out a quick sigh.

“I woke up … alone!” Sirius wailed, deliberately avoiding looking directly at Remus’ face out of spite.

Remus stared, “….And?” 

Sirius scoffed, looked to the ground, and crossed his arms petulantly, “You can’t leave me like that!”

“Er, okay, okay,  sorry!”

Sirius shook his head and leaned in for a gentle kiss. He pulled away and finally studied Remus' face. There was a slight shimmer in his eyes, a tremble in his voice. Had Remus been crying?

“Hey, Moony… are you okay?”

“What? Of course, I’m fine!” Remus defensively blurted out, suddenly tense.

But Sirius wasn't convinced. He gently reached out, brushing his thumb against Remus' cheek.

“No, you’ve been crying, haven’t you?”

Remus looked away, blinking rapidly, “I….” 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Sirius urged.

Remus averted his gaze back to Sirius’ eyes, relaxed, and breathed out.

“That’s it,” Sirius smiled at the gesture of opening up.

“Look, I’m just tired of bottling it all up. I… needed to let go. Of the pain, the sadness. I almost never cry, and… I have my reasons to, don’t I? It’s not like everything in my life is sunshine and rainbows.”

Sirius slightly nodded in acceptance and gave Remus’ hand a gentle squeeze, unsure of what to say. Remus never expressed his emotions before, and now that he did, Sirius just wanted to make him feel okay.

“Moony…”

“I’m allowed to cry, okay?” Remus cried out, “It’s like- I just— I have to deal with so much shit and act like it’s nothing. I have to hide. I’ve got so, so many secrets about who I simply am, something I can’t change. I’m tired of hiding!”

“… Of course you can cry. I understand, it’s alright,” Sirius hugged the other boy tightly, comforting Remus with whispers of reassurance and soft strokes on his soft hair. 

“Mmm…” Remus trembled, looking away.

Sirius immediately resisted and cupped his face, and ever so gently he said, “Hey, look at me.”

When Remus gazed into his eyes with that look of pure vulnerability he’d never seen before, Sirius wanted the world to stop and live in that moment forever. Sirius knew how hiding felt, maybe not as deeply as Remus, but growing up in the Black household? Well, let’s just say it wasn’t easy. Even though Sirius always tried to defy his family values with his iconic rebellious nature, there were certain things about himself that were too “unacceptable” to flaunt. He would bare even worse punishments than he already had, that is if his mother ever knew about Moony. 

Knew that he loved the way Remus spread four toppings on his toast, the way sunlight would glow in his warm brown eyes, the way his sandy hair would brush Sirius' neck when they embraced , the way the rare and sweet sound always filled the air when he laughed; the way Remus's tender touches and whispered words felt like bliss and were responded with shaky gasps. Knew about how at nights, the two of them would steal clandestine moments; that in the day, he shot longing gazes at Remus, desire drowning him until he couldn’t breathe. Knew that if he got chance to express it, he would take it every time. Knew that for his Moony, he would do anything.

“I don’t expect you to be perfect, okay? We both have our faults– I definitely have my fair share of mine. That’s because we’re human, obviously we’re gonna have–”

“Uh, Sirius..” Remus chuckled 

He paused for a moment, took his hand off Remus’ face, and gasped dramatically. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I’m such an idiot, fuck–”

The other boy shut him up with a kiss, laughing in between the breaths. 

After a few moments of comfort passed, Sirius looked at the book in Remus' lap and then back at him with a hopeful expression, “Could you read it to me?"

“Kafka?” Remus looked pleasantly surprised, “Hm. Hardly comforting but-“

"Who?”

“...And I thought you were a pretentious, overly- educated fancy-pants–”

“First of all – I am,”  Sirius raised his jaw and pursed his lips, then lowered it down again, a small smirk tugging at his lips, “And, uh... I just like your voice," 

That Sirius Black grin. 

“Ha. Okay, if you insist…”

[its-zur1]

Headcanon: after they had lost Moblit and became the new commander, they got insomnia and often hallucinated hearing him / seeing him in nightmares

Story i wrote inspired by the heacanon:

The first few nights after reaclaiming Shiganshina were sleepless for them. They never were the type to feel guilty for something, but this was different. The guilt they felt for Moblit's death was there. They told themselves it wasn't their fault, even Levi explained that to them after noticing them sobbing in the corner of their room one night, but it was difficult to believe in that, knowing Moblit had sacrificed his life for theirs, and that he'd died such a terrible death too.

Their new role in the survey corps wasn't really helping as well. Or maybe it was? They couldn't tell. But, it did keep them up at night. Always signing important documents, going on meetings, and everything Erwin used to do before them. They did all the boring things if it kept their mind occupied, their thoughts away from their feelings.

Yet the feelings were still there.

The moment they closed their eyes, they'd start seeing it all over again. Any loud noise reminded them of Bertholdt's transformation, any campfire they passed by reminded them of how it must've felt for Moblit. How it must've felt to burn alive. They couldn't even imagine how painful it must've been. Or maybe it wasn't? Maybe it was quick? They knew they'd never know how it felt.

The third day going with no sleep must've been too noticable. They fell asleep during a meeting, where they were woken up immediately afterwards, in the end getting no things done.

They went back to their new office. Everything there reminded them of the past, and they hated it. They hated it so much.

They sat down on the chair, looking around the empty room, resting their head on the desk, which was followed by a loud sigh showing how tired they were, as well as silence after that.

The floor creaked as they heard a bunch of slow footsteps.

"Hange! Please, get some sleep!"

A voice said.

"Hm...?"

They tiredly responded, not recognising the voice at first.

"You're not getting enough sleep."

"...mhh....okay.."

They felt their heavy eyes close, the voice was soothing. They felt themselves relax, and eventually fall asleep.

However, they were soon disturbed by someone placing a hand on their shoulder.

"....hhhhhh.."

They groaned, waking up.

"....Mobliiit.."

"Eh..?"

"....not now.."

They sighed.

"Hange, wake up.."

"..ughhhh"

They let out another groan, lifting their head and opening their eyes, finally looking at the person infront of them.

"..heh?..."

They let out a confused sound, before their mind caught up.

"...it's dark you know."

"..Oh- ..yeah....

yeah."

Levi must've noticed, it's not the first time they've accidentally sleeptalked or have called someone a different name. Ever since the last mission, it's happened a lot more often.

They stood up, barely able to stand, their legs trembling.

"Shit, for how long have you not slept four eyes?"

"..."

They looked at their friend with a sad expression. Something that nobody, not even their beloved Moblit saw.

"What about you?"

"..."

Levi didn't reply to their question.

"Go take a bath and go to sleep, you'll need it."

"...."

"..sure."

Hange had changed.

They've gone from being their always smiling, always happy and silly self, to whatever they were now. They were tired, too tired. Yet they kept on going, they couldn't abandon everything just yet.

They really tried to enjoy the time they had left, but really, how could anyone do so after all that. Their new rank as the commander of the survey corps made it even worse.

That might've been the reason they were the one to go, the one to go and save what was now the alliance. They left so quickly, willingly sacrificing their life for the cause, like they all had. Like Moblit had too.

They did feel a bit selfish, and they might've been, leaving their last friend, Levi, all alone. Atleast he understood they couldn't continue going anymore. And this was a golden oportunity. A chance to feel what Moblit had.

Now they knew how the fire felt. It was hot, too hot, burning their skin. It hurt. Was that how Moblit felt too? They wondered in their last moments, when what was left of their body turned into ashes.

- thanks for reading!!♡

[redbullcateringfiction]

Chapter 5 -

Cantata

Arabella is the executive assistant for Mercedes Team Principal Toto Wolff. 10 years into her career, it looks like the tide is changing, and she's beginning to question her relationship with him. Is it something more, or nothing but an idea lingering in her head?

F/M, Fluff, Boss/Employee Relationship, Romance, Pining, Love, Slow Burn

Fifth chapter below the cut or click here for AO3

Click here for the previous chapter on Tumblr, and click here for a list of all chapters

(Total: 21735 words thus far)

Oh? The right time to use a lawyer? You little shit. I immediately went to block his number, but paused. God, maybe he was onto something. He’s right. I can’t talk about my life with anyone, and…would this contract guarantee that he couldn’t say anything? I need a lawyer to read over this contract with a lawyer. I stared at the screen without really doing anything. I felt a sudden tap on my shoulder, I looked over and saw a line of 10 or so engineers. “How’s it going, ATM?” James asked. As one of the trackside engineers, he had been one of those who gifted me the greatest gift any paddock regular can receive: A nickname. 

I suppose Toto and Bono had it easy since it really was just what they had always been called. It was, afterall, really just their names. My nickname was far less affectionate. Both representative of the way the engineers would jokingly ask me to sign off on the paychecks, since they believed I held so much power at Brackley I could do so, and of the way I was also notorious for standing right behind Toto ready to shuffle him off to his next engagement. ATM stood for “Assigned Toto Micromanager.” It did, however, make it impossible to tell over text if they were asking “at the moment” or simply calling me by name. ‘Bono is on the pit wall ATM.’ As in right now or are we just mocking me? Fuck. 

“Good, good. Let’s get the party started,” I smiled. One after another, they filtered through. Of course, at least one of them had forgotten some silly thing they couldn’t bring through customs, turning them into an international smuggler, and I into the negotiator. In many ways, this could easily be one of the silliest parts of my job. Kindly asking a customs agent to overlook the Schumacher memorabilia that brightly displayed “Marlboro” and thus consisted of cigarette advertisements was certainly not in the job description. 

“Now, why would you wear that shirt?” I asked as the offending engineer finally passed through customs.

“I didn’t know it would be a problem!” She answered, throwing up her hands.

“Well, now you do,” I replied, rolling my eyes. She looked tempted to throw me the bird. “Just throw on a sweatshirt.”

“Fine, fine,” She sighed, reaching into her bag and pulling out a sweater.

I put in my ear buds as the line finally came to a close, and I began to walk to the car. I quickly found my playlist. Unlike my father, I was not a fan of Bach, Mozart, or Schubert. Rather Ellington, Corea, and Monk graced my ears. It had pissed off my ex-boyfriend enough that he wrote a song about it. I wish though that listening to that song gave me the giggles rather than could send me into tears. Unfortunately, the song refused to leave me alone. It followed me into stores. It followed me into the paddock. It followed me into every single rewind playlist Spotify gives me every single year. No one allows me to forget that damn song. 

I ran to the car and climbed in, managing to wave down the driver. “Arabella Lazaar, right? Four seasons?” He asked. 

“Yes, yes. Thank you so much,” I answered. I quickly dialed down Toto.

“Hello?” He answered.

“I’m on my way. We have to remind the engineers about clothing requirements at customs again,” I sighed.

“Who was the offender this time?” He laughed.

“Sarah with a Schumacher Senior shirt,” I explained.

“What could be the problem-”

“Marlboro,” I interrupted.

“Ah. Got it. Well, send out the email tonight. Should I meet you in the lobby? I have you checked in already.”

“Already? Sure. I’ll be there in half an hour. Looks like traffic is a mess since everyone’s coming in for testing.”

“Not too bad, Ms. Lazaar. I can make it happen in twenty.”

“Then twenty! He says we can make it in twenty,” I explained to Toto. 

“Then twenty, I’ll see you here in twenty.” I could practically hear him smiling through the phone. “See you soon.”

“See you,” I answered. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” The driver answered. 

~

Cathal Lynch’s girlfriend accidentally revealed through new song

Cathal Lynch, lead singer of Irish pop-rock band Four Odd Bottles, has long kept his love life private. For the past 3 years he has referenced his girlfriend at shows and in interviews, but has never revealed her identity. Fan theories have suggested supermodels, ex-classmates, and that perhaps, she doesn’t even actually exist! However, the release of the band's newest song - 4th From the Gate - accidentally revealed her identity. 

Simple references such as “racing stars,” and “dry tires on a wet pavement,” implied to listeners that Lynch may be dating a member of the Formula 1 community. Fans further found that Cathal’s posts on Instagram seemed to be located near or close to locations where Formula 1 races had taken place. None of this directly pointed to the woman who inspires Cathal’s boisterous love songs. However, several final details collided in the perfect storm to reveal her identity.

At the recent Formula 1 Japanese Grand Prix, Lynch took a picture with now 6-time world champion  Lewis Hamilton. This picture, taken from within the garage, told many fans that Cathal Lynch was either a big fan of Mercedes-Petronas, or with the recent song, his girlfriend works for Mercedes. Fans recalled that earlier songs had referenced Cathal Lynch’s girlfriend’s long curly hair, her tanned skin, and even that she may be Dutch. In the background of this picture was Arabella Lazaar - Curly haired, medium skinned, Dutch executive assistant to Mercedes team principal Toto Wolff. 

This afternoon, Cathal Lynch half-confirmed this was a simple Instagram story that showed a long curly hair on his pillow captioned “Always leaving pieces of herself with me. Even the ones she knows I hate.” To many fans, this was all they needed to immediately determine Arabella Lazaar was the woman inspiring Cathal Lynch’s music for the past 3 years. 

Four Odd Bottle’s did not respond to our request for comment.

~

We arrived at the hotel after 10 minutes, on the dot. I thanked the driver and was sure to grab my bags that I had placed in the trunk. As soon as I walked in, Toto was practically waiting by the door. 

“Arabella, haven’t seen you in a while,” He joked. 

“Oh, those two hours must’ve been so tortuous for you,” I spoke, immediately catching myself on the basis it may have sounded just a little bit flirty. Toto didn’t seem to notice though and laughed. 

“You just know they were. Every single minute, I was thinking, oh, how will I know what I am going to do in the next 5 minutes? Oh right, she sent an email, and I am to do absolutely nothing until she tells me what to do.”

“I’m not that bad,” I defended myself.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” He smirked. “Let me take your bags.”

We started walking towards the elevator and he lead me to my room. “I’m right next door, so you can bother me first thing in the morning.”

“And you know I will,” I smiled, taking the key from his hand. “Has someone already checked over your room?”

“I did. I know how to look over my own room.”

“Surprising,” I sassed. I walked in and immediately went to shut the door, but toto caught it with his foot.

“Uh, sorry. Do you mind if I was to finish our earlier conversation?” He asked, sweetly offering me a smile. 

“Oh. Sure. It had already slipped my mind,” I poorly lied. It had stuck in my brain like a leech. “Did you want to step in?” Fuck, why did I say that?

“Sure, sure,” He answered, closing the door behind him. “I just wanted to apologize for interrupting your date last night. I had a few too many drinks at the event, and saw you…and I’m not sure. Something just came over me. And suddenly I recalled you heading up to the room, and I figured, why not just ask? It just wasn’t appropriate and I wanted to apologize.”

“Oh…um…no worries! It wasn’t a date,” I quickly deflected. Why did I say that? Why not just accept the apology? Klootzak. 

“It wasn’t?” Toto asked, seemingly just as surprised at my statement as me. “Oh, well good, I suppose. Not good. Just…yes, okay.”

“Yeah, I was just uh…meeting with my lawyer.”

“Your lawyer ?”

Yes, of course. That was somehow better. I’m planning on suing you, Toto Wolff.

“Just uh…with contract renewal coming up soon. He’s been my lawyer since the incident with Cathal,” I mumbled. I’m very bad at lying. “Just good to have someone on my side.”

“Oh, of course. Well, then, I’m deeply sorry for implying that you were on a date by asking if he was your boyfriend from the Christmas party,” Toto answered.

“Mauricio? No, uh, we split up shortly after that.” Please stop talking, Arabella. Why can’t I just shut up sometimes?

“That's right. Mauricio. I’m sorry about that, though.” Okay, Arabella, take a breath and think for a moment about how you’ll respond. 

“Ah, we weren’t that serious. I’m not bothered. What’s done is done,” I smiled. I do not have the heart nor emotional capacity to tell Toto that Mauricio and I dated for about 3 weeks and had already broken up when I made him come to the Christmas Party with me. I just didn’t want to look lonely. It was a nice deal though. As a massive fan of Lewis, he didn’t mind getting the opportunity to meet everyone on his team. When my ex-boyfriend and I had been together, I rarely let him come to events with me. Of course, the one time I did, all hell broke loose. That’s why I don’t date celebrities anymore. Unfortunately, it being the one time I brought someone with me to the Christmas Party, it had stuck in everyone’s brains and to this day people ask me if Mauricio and I are still together. 

“Regardless, Arabella. That was my point. I apologize,” He smiled. 

“I understand that, and I accept your apology. It really isn’t anything to apologize for though,” I explained. 

“Okay,” Toto sighed. “Can I make it up to you though?”

"Give me a day off, you mean?” I chuckled. 

“We both know you wouldn't accept that. But we have some free time tonight. In exchange for ruining your last dinner, I propose you at least let me buy you dinner. You don’t have to sit down with me or anything, but I can at least buy it for you.”

“Can I think about it?” I asked.

“Think as long as you’d like,” He conceded, throwing up his hands. “I’ll head out. If you want to take me up on the offer, just shoot me a text.”

I nodded and he left out the door. I immediately crashed onto the bed, holding my face in the pillow. Perhaps Jeffrey was right. I did, in fact, desperately need someone to talk to. I looked at the text message again and tried to use the little bit of legalese I knew to understand it. I’m nowhere near a professional but this seems reasonable enough. No part of me wants to just sign this…but what options do I have? I downloaded it and sat on it for a moment, staring at it. I decided to call Jeffrey himself. I might not know legalese but I can interpret bullshit when I hear it. 

“Oh, Arabella. I didn’t expect this,” Jeffrey answered the phone. 

“I know. But, do me a favor here,” I spluttered. “Just…explain to me what all this means. I think I get the idea, but just walk me through it, and I’ll let you know if I have any questions.”

“That’s not a problem. Go ahead. What’s your first concern?”

“I’m not sure what section 1.3 really means. I think it’s saying that your retainer is typically 50%  of expected hours, but since the expected work hours here are unlimited…then the retainer is $50,000? But also since it’s pro bono, there isn’t a retainer?”

“Basically. Here, let me walk you through it. So you see…”

~

“Cathal, I can’t do this,” I cried, burying my head in my hands. “The calling, the texting, the death threats. It just isn’t ending.” I thought I would puke as my phone just continuously buzzed. 

“I know,” He whimpered through the phone. “I’m really sorry.”

“Why did you post that stupid fucking photo?” I begged. “Everyone knows it's me.”

“How the fuck was I supposed to know that they could figure out your god damn name from a picture that barely had you in the background? How the fuck was I supposed to know that, Belle?”

“I don’t fucking know! God, fuck!” I screamed. I could feel my chest getting tight, and suddenly I felt the need to lower my curtains. I could not look at Brackley right now. Absolutely not. “If anyone, and I mean anyone, finds my fucking address I will fucking kill you.”

“Then I’m dead. Because I already have the fucking team paying off paparazzi after paparazzi. I fucking care about you, Belle. I do. Do not blame me for this level of insanity.”

“People want to kill me because I’m dating you. Even though, to them, I’m the reason for all your music. Yet, they want me dead for it.”

“None of them are real, I assure you, Belle,” He tried to calm me down. “None of them. They always send bullshit like this and they never mean it. It’s just one of those great perks of being famous.”

“I do not want to be famous,” I complained.

“Really? Running around with Formula drivers and working for actors and actresses, and dating a fucking musician? No part of you wants to be famous? It sure as fuck seems like you do.”

“No, I do not, Cathal. It’s my job. It’s my fucking job,” I wept. I could feel my tears staining the pillow beneath me. Every inch was slowly becoming covered with tears. I touched it. I had cried so hard and for so long that the other side of it was becoming damp. I would surely have to throw this pillow out. I would have to carry it to the trash in the kitchen, and then drag the bag out to the trash bin. I would have to take the bin to the curb, and make sure it didn’t block the garage, so I could take my car and drive it to work in the morning. I would have to stay at work trying to avoid thinking about this or risk dropping into a sad mess of tears. I would have to drive back home, and be careful not to hit my garbage can if it had shifted since they picked it up. I would then have to get out of my car and drag the bin back into the garage. I would have to do all of this without running into paparazzi because I doubt Cathal’s team could stop all of them. I would have to do all of this without for a second having a panic attack. I would have to do all of this without letting anyone know just how much it had fucked me up.

That to me was the most important factor. No matter what happened and no matter how bad this made me feel, absolutely no one would know how fucked up this had me. Whatever pictures the paparazzi took of me, I would look fucking good. This could be the worst day of my life but there’s no reason for anyone to know except me and Cathal. I pulled myself together as Cathal ranted about my hypocriticism. 

“You know what, Cathal? You can blame me all you want. You can say I’m the reason why my life was ruined. The truth is though, I know you better than anyone else. I know you better than all your fucking fans do. I know that you left all those bread crumbs on purpose. I know that you wanted them to know who I was because you thought it was so silly that I didn’t want to be known. You thought it was so weird that someone could date a magnificent celebrity like you and not just want to date them for their fame. You thought it was so absurd. Why don’t you go fuck a groupie about it? Why don’t you pass some venereal disease all throughout Europe about it? I don’t care anymore. I did exactly as I was told, Cathal. Go fuck yourself,” I spoke, hanging up. I turned my phone off. If someone needs me, they know how to get a hold of me without calling or texting me. I cleaned my face up, and put on a nice bathrobe. I threw the pillow out in the garbage, and made sure my house was clean. I then opened up the blinds. Sure enough, as soon as I did, I saw a camera flash inside a car that was neatly parked outside my house. 

At least I knew that when that picture hit the tabloids, it would be a good one.

~

“And there we go. Everything explained. What do you think?” Jeffrey asked, sounding like he nearly needed to catch his breath. I yawned deeply, becoming sleepy after Jeffrey had managed to run through the entire contract in excruciating detail without stopping.

“I think you really like being a lawyer,” I yawned again.

“I do, yes,” I could practically hear him beaming through the phone. 

“Yeah, really boring for me, honestly,” I deadpanned. “Anyway, yeah, sounds good. I’ll sign it.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. And after I sign it, how long until it goes into effect?”

“Instantly.”

“Great.” I instantly signed the paperwork and immediately returned it to him. 

“Thanks. Just got it.”

“Okay. Should I go to dinner with Toto?”

“Oh-we’re starting right away. Jesus Christ, Arabella. I’m not a magic 8 ball,” Jeffrey answered. “I don’t know if you should go to- wait he asked you out?”

“Asked me out is a strong sentiment,” I explained. “I really hope the walls here aren’t thin.”

“Is he right next to you or something?”

“His room is.”

“Oh my God, Arabella. That man wants you so bad.”

“Fucking hell, Jeffrey. I set up the rooms. Do you know who is also right next to him? Bono. Do you know who is also right next to me? Musconi. Because we’re all taking the same fucking car in the morning,” I explained.

“So…you want him so bad?”

“No, fucking hell, Jeffrey. It was just luck of the draw, I guess,” I replied. “All I did was say we should be on the same floor. In case something went wrong with the car.”

“Fine, fine. Whatever you say. So, he asked you for dinner?”

“Technically. He’s making up for interrupting our date…that I told him wasn’t a date.”

“Rude.”

“Rude? You gave me the idea with the whole ‘contract coming up’ bullshit. I just went with it. I didn’t want him to feel quite so crap for putting me in this situation.”

“Oh, situation? I’m a situation now?”

“Yes, Jeffrey. Yes, you are.” I looked out the window and could clearly see the signs of the impending dust storm. My family didn’t visit Morocco frequently when I was a child, but since we usually visited Marrakech in May, they were incredibly frequent. The wind would start blowing over the desert, and soon the sky would turn to a bright orange, the sand devouring us whole, while my father practically slapped us with face coverings to keep each of us from falling into unstoppable coughing fits. In a particularly bad one, I would stumble over my own feet trying to grab my sister’s shoulder, just to know I had someone with me. 

“You know, this is supposed to be a mutually positive experience.  You get to complain about work. I get to complain about work. Pretty good deal, I think,” Jeffrey argued.

“I think it’s closer to blackmail. Besides, you have given me very little advice in this situation.”

“Well, what exactly did he say, Arabella? Can I call you Bella?”

“You cannot. I’m not a crusty white dog,” I sighed. That was my go to line when someone asked if they could call me Bella. I found it made them far less difficult about it. “He just apologized and said he would make it up for me. I could pretty much take him up on dinner or just let him buy my room service basically.”

“Does…does he not already pay for your food when you travel?” Jeffrey asked. 

“Oh fuck you and your cleverness,” I sighed. “So…do you think it was a date then?”

“I promise you, I’m not trying to play therapist with you, but two things. For someone who says that she’s positive her boss isn’t into her, and she’s positive she isn’t into her boss, you’re awfully preoccupied with whether this is a date or not. Second thing, how would I know? Arabella, I barely know you and this guy. I can make assumptions based on my own knowledge about how I think things work but I can’t just come outright and say ‘Yes, for sure’ based on 3 hours of talking and maybe another hour of having sex,” Jeffrey explained. “You would actually have better luck with a magic 8 ball.”

“I’m really not into him. Just…curious,” I confidently spoke. “I’m 32 and lost out on my one realistic chance of marriage a year and a half ago. I get my hopes up at the slightest bit of attention even if I try to pretend I don’t.” As I spoke, the confidence quickly wore off. 

Jeffrey took a deep sigh. “Cathal, right?”

“I thought you were joking about Googling me,” I laughed, trying to soften the fact that my eyes were welling up with tears. I was over my ex. I had been for a long time. Nonetheless, the way he constantly crept up in my life had a strange way of never allowing old wounds to heal properly. We weren’t together for some crazy long period of time, but fame just wasn’t really for me. He just couldn’t understand that. Eventually, he was over it. Eventually, I was over being disrespected. Having your business out there all the time makes it impossible to ignore everything. Him being a musician means I constantly notice the way I don’t think he’s over me though. Releasing two breakup albums is a bit much, don’t you think? I could forgive one, but a second that was clearly still about me? Freaked me out a bit, if I’m honest. 

“I wasn’t. It was the first thing I saw. Your name plastered over all those headlines. Pictures of your house, pictures of you at races, pictures of you at Brackley. Just everywhere,” Jeffrey explained. 

“Most people forgot about it a long time ago. It was a Shakespearean tragedy in 5 acts for pop culture nerds. For everyone else, it really wasn’t anything.” I hate to admit it, but perhaps Cathal was the reason why I hated staying in Brackley so much. The way the discomfort lingered, and the way I swore sometimes I could smell him on my couch. It was stained with him, practically. Every inch was Cathal, Cathal, Cathal. Guitars on the walls, albums on the shelves, and a closet full of outfits he had worn while touring. It took months of vacuuming to stop finding his cat’s hair. 

“Not you though, huh? I can hear it in your voice,” Jeffrey answered.

“In my voice? Are you talking nonsense again?”

“Do you really think I’m not at all perceptive? I’m a lawyer, Arabella. Stop underestimating my people skills for once, or I’m going to hang up the phone.”

“Fine, fine. You’re right. It hasn’t really left me, partially, because it follows me around everywhere. You yourself said that you found it just by googling my name. Article after article detailing start-to-finish every aspect of our breakup and potential relationship history. None of that to mention that he’s two albums into the breakup and he won’t stop making songs about me.”

“How do you even know they’re about you?” Jeffrey asked innocently.

“The last album had a song called 100 degrees, which was entirely a reference to the perfect tire temp on an F1 tire. Not to mention the song just literally was about how hot I am but for some reason talking about me like I’m a car,” I sighed.

“I bet that didn’t sell well.” 

“Lookup ‘Cathal Lynch objectifies ex-girlfriend quite literally in newest single.’ That one actually gives me quite the giggle,” I told him, thinking about the article. It had some great one liners, such as ‘ He compares her body to a Ferrari, which considering their recent performance in F1, she will certainly take as an insult.’ They were right. I did. 

“Is he trying to win you back?” 

“More like he’s trying to annoy me. Every single time he puts an album out there talking about me, or mentions me at a concert, or talks about it in an interview, it gets my name right back in the tabloids. He knows I hate that. Thankfully, the press doesn’t really care to get my pictures anywhere but F1 races since they know I’ll always be there, and why waste resources when everyone else has seemingly moved on?”

“Except him.”

“Obviously,” I groaned. “Anyway…you’re right. I’ll figure out on my own what to do when it comes to the dinner thing. I need to be a grown up, I suppose.”

“Yes, you should. Now, do you mind if I have my own little moment here about my life?” Jeffrey asked. What am I supposed to say? No? After bitching for very long about everything in my life? It wouldn’t be fair.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Do you know what I hate? More than anything else?”

“Hmm?”

“So many people think I do DaVinci code type shit, and have the tomb of Jesus Christ himself locked away in a vault in Switzerland just because I work for a Swiss Bank.”

“Really? What’s the weirdest thing you have stored away?” I asked.

“I don’t actually know. We don’t ask questions. One client was storing just a single banana, and got pretty mad when the thing went rotten.”

“Did…did they think you would keep it fresh forever?”

“Somehow, yes. It was apparently one of those super rare plant species and his personal fruit tree had grown that singular one that year. I told him we’d buy him a box of those bananas to satisfy him.”

“What? Really? You just had the company shell out that that money just because this dude doesn’t understand a single thing about safety deposit boxes?”

“Y’know, when I was a kid, my dad made me work at Tesco. He wanted me to see how retail worked because he swore that I would otherwise grow up an entitled rich kid. And when I was a cashier, I would sit there and complain about my managers giving random people free things for things that were their fault. Then suddenly, one day he left early, gave me his pin and told me to handle any problems that arose. One customer in, and I realized how much easier it was to just satisfy them with whatever silly request they had even if it wasn't our fault.”

“Nice story, Jeffrey. My parents own a tiny hotel on an island. We weren’t playing poor, we just were. The hotel to this day barely stays afloat. And whenever someone came in and begged for something free or said they were upset with the way the room was cleaned, whatever, my parents would check and make sure it wasn’t their fault. If it wasn’t, they would happily tell them to fuck off,” I storied back to him.

“Alright, Arabella. Whatever you say, huh? You can’t just let someone have an opinion, can you?” He asked.

“That whole story was an opinion? What are you, a Tory?” I joked.

“Oh, shush,” He laughed. 

“Now you tell a woman to quiet up, huh? Jeffrey…tsk, tsk, tsk.”

“Alright, alright. I get it. Well, run off now and figure out what you’re doing tonight. I’ll let you go now.”

“Oh, really? I thought there would be more.”

“I just didn’t want you to feel weird. It’s supposed to be a tradeoff. I wanted to trade,” Jeffrey shrugged.

“You know you don’t have to say something. You can just wait until something happens and then call me,” I explained.

“Except if I turn on Sky Sports and see Mercedes is at the paddock?” Jeffrey asked.

“Unless it’s the race or qualifying, that’s probably the perfect time to call, actually. I’m an assistant, not an engineer, Jeffrey.”

“Oh, right on. Well, I’ll speak with you later, Bella.”

“Nope.”

“Thought I’d get away with it,” He sighed, hanging up the phone. I laughed hearing my phone beep away. As useless as I suppose that conversation was in practicality, in theory, it felt very safe. Somehow, despite the literal contract I had just signed and argument we had last night,  I might as well had been speaking with someone I knew for a decade. Perhaps he knew so much from looking me up that he could truly act like that, or maybe we just truly have the perfect matching energies for a platonic relationship. 

I stared at the door thinking about my next move. I realized that if I did what I wanted to do, I would be locking myself in this room, keeping to my strict comfort zone. I don’t want to do that. I sent off a text to Toto.

Me: I’ll take you up on the offer.

Tags: @daddyslittlevillain