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cressidagrey · 3 days ago
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It's a Love Story - Chapter 4
Summary:
Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.
Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.
And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.
Warning:
Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.
If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.
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In that moment, Sky’s brain didn't function. 
She just sat there, staring at the gorgeous, gorgeous male across from her. She couldn’t think. Not when he looked like that. Not when he looked better than any figment her imagination had ever come up with…
He was…the most beautiful male Skylar Alden had ever seen. 
Everything about him was perfection. From his inky black hair, to his high, chiseled cheekbones, to his...his strong broad body that looked like it was just made to be pressed right up against hers. Gods...he looked like he was made from her deepest fantasies. He was...he was…
And then he gave her a slow, soft smile and her breath caught in her throat. 
Cauldron, he was  beautiful. Like every perfect fantasy she had ever had come to life. 
And he smelled even better than he looked, the scent of cedar and mist so mouthwateringly delicious she wanted to lick it straight off his damn skin. How a male could look this sinfully gorgeous and smell just as delicious, she didn't know. And he...he was smiling at her. Smiling at...her.
And she could feel the bond.
She could feel it.
Something…just clicked into place. Something in her chest shifted and it felt right and perfect and she just knew. 
Sky just knew that nobody else would ever come close to compare to him…
This was the male for her. He...he was hers.
Hers.
Her mate. 
Sky was a hopeless romantic. Maybe she needed to be that, so that she was able to write love stories for a living.
She loved love. She loved the whole fairytale, happily ever after fantasy. And looking at the male in front of her, it was like he came straight from the pages of her books.
But things like this didn’t happen to girls like her. She knew that. She knew that so well. She… he wasn’t going to want to…
Sky wasn't attractive enough, not interesting enough. Why would he choose her? Why would this gorgeous, gorgeous thing of beauty want to be with...someone like her?
It wouldn’t make sense. She wasn't...she wasn't anything special. He could do so much better than...than her.
She was so awkward, so plain. He was just...way out of her league.
“What’s wrong?” He asked her. Even his voice was perfect. One hand reached out for her, and she weakly registered the violent scars that covered it. They looked like they must have hurt. And then he seemingly thought better about it. “You…were happy.Now…”
That was the problem. She couldn't stop her stupid thoughts. They just kept on running through her brain, making her feel...feel self-conscious. Insecure. She was...she was just a mess. Always had been.
And she opened her mouth to respond but no word left her lips, her throat closing as she tried to say even a single sounds.
Tears shot in her eyes. Why? Just for one…just for one fucking time Sky didn’t want every word that left her mouth to be a fight.
But it was. And she tried to say a single thing but her body didn’t allow her, and her heart reatcheted up because she knew that she looked like an idiot but…She couldn't move. Couldn't...couldn't do anything but just sit there and cry like the pathetic, stupid mess she was. She didn't deserve him. He was...he was perfect. And Sky was just...useless.
He was just staring at her, looking...worried, probably so confused about why she was being like this. 
Stupid. So stupid. Like she always was. The tears kept falling, and she felt pathetic. So, so pathetic.
Her eyes closed as she fought back a sob, biting her lip so hard she tasted blood. It was...it was too humiliating, being like this in front of him. She probably looked like a total freak. She...she just wished he didn't have to see her like this.
He shouldn't have to see her like this, see her being an absolute mess because she didn't know how to act like a normal person. She could feel him move, and her breath hitched. He...he was probably about to leave. She...she didn't blame him, really. She was an embarrassment.
But then a warm, broad hand was on top of her own trembling fingers, covering her with his own. Her eyes flew open from the shock, her lips parting in surpris, his gorgeous eyes fixed on hers as he gently stroked the back of her hands with his thumb.
“Take a deep breath, love. It’s alright,” he soothed her softly. “It’s alright.”
She could feel her heart flutter as his voice washed over her, warm like a balm over a burn. It just made her want to cry even more, because he...he was being so nice. So gentle with her, even though he probably thought that she was being utterly ridiculous.
“I…I….I am so….so…sorry.” Her stutter was so bad. Clearly at its worst. Worse than it even was when she didn’t have enough sleep.
She felt tears sliding down her cheeks even harder, her vision getting blurry as she tried to avoid his eyes. Her stupid, stupid stutter always got worse when she was upset. Like her brain shut down and she just...lost the ability to form basic sentences.
She tried to calm down, tried to stop crying, but it just kept going. The tears didn't stop, and god, she must've looked completely pathetic.
"I'm s-sorry." she sobbed, her voice a wretched, strangled sound as she tried to stop the shaking that wracked her entire body. She just wanted...she just wanted to be calm. To be normal.
And he had probably even heard Claire. Had probably heard every barbed word her sister had thrown in her direction.
The thought made her want to wail as the tears fell harder, her breathing growing laboured and uneven. He would never want her now. Not after she had embarrassed herself like this. Not after she just...sat here and cried and stuttered like an idiot.
She tried to pull away from his grasp, but he didn't let her, gently taking her hands in his. His fingers felt so warm on hers, and his touch was so, so gentle. It just made the tears fall even harder, an ugly, broken sound wrenching from her throat.
Sky wanted to stop, she wanted to stop crying and being so hysterical, but her stupid, worthless brain wouldn't co-operate.
And then suddenly he enveloped her against a broad chest, strong arms settling sround her. He was hugging her
It was like every fiber of her being froze, her heart nearly stopping as she felt his arms encircle her. It was like...like some kind of dream. He was hugging her, hugging her like she was precious to him, like he...he truly cared about her. After all of Sky’s awkwardness, and stupid, pathetic crying...he still was holding her like this.
“Breath,” he told her softly. “It’s alright. Whatever is wrong, we’ll fix it.”
She took a deep, trembling breath, his scent washing over her. It was like he was everywhere, his arms tight and yet gentle around her, his broad chest pressed against hers, his cedar and mist scent in her nose. It just...it just made the tears fall all the more harder, a small, broken sob wringing itself from her throat.
Of course, his scent was just as amazing as he was. And it made her feel...feel safe. Like nothing could hurt her as long as he was there, like he would protect her from everything and anything. 
She buried her head in his chest, trying to block out the rest of the world as she held onto him so tightly she was sure she was probably hurting him. But still he didn't move, still he let her cling to him as she cried so hard it made her shake.
For once in her life Sky felt delicate in his grasp. She wasn’t thin at all, but against him…she felt small. She felt so safe pressed against him.Secure. Like she could let him hold her forever as she sobbed so hard she was practically convulsing. She knew he probably thought she was being pathetic, but still...but still, he was hugging her.
It was like she couldn't breathe. Her heart was hammering so hard against her ribcage that it hurt to even draw in oxygen, her emotions completely overwhelming her. 
She could feel his fingers running through her brown curls, and the touch just made her cry even harder. She must have looked so awful, so miserable, but he just...he just held her like this. Like she mattered to him, like she wasn't a total, pathetic mess.
And finally…finally Sky managed to calm down.
It took a long while, but eventually, the sobs eased into small, shallow breaths as she curled up against his strong chest. Sky still felt...awful. Like a total idiot. But at least the tears had stopped.
“I….i am sor…sorry.” She managed to bring out.
“There is nothing you need to apologise for,” he told her gently, one hand still delicately rubbing her spine.
“I…I cri…cried all o…over you.”Her voice sounded scratchy and broken from all the crying, and she was so deeply ashamed of it. He probably thought she sounded ridiculous. But she took another deep breath and pressed on, trying to speak through her tears, her stupid stutter still making it hard for her to even form a single word.
He held out a handkerchief for her and she whiled away the tears.
She blinked a few times, staring at the piece of fabric. He...he was giving her something to dry her tears, because she was such a pathetic mess that she had completely soaked the front of his shirt. Shame made heat rise in her cheeks, but she took the handkerchief from him.
She dabbed away at her wet lashes, her voice weak and raspy as she spoke. "T-thank you," she said quietly, still not being able to meet his eyes. She still felt so humiliated, but also so, so grateful that he was still here, that he hadn't left yet.
Sy knew she probably looked completely dreadful, all red-eyed and blotchy from all the crying, her hair mess and tangled from where he had run his fingers through it. 
She wanted to curl up and die from the shame of it all. Of being such a stupid, messy, emotional wreck. She must have looked like such an idiot, but somehow, somehow he was still here. 
"Will you tell me your name?" he asked her softly.
Sky felt her heartbeat quicken as he spoke, as his voice washed over her. Of course. Of course he didn't even know her name. She had been so caught up in her little pity party that she hadn't even introduced herself yet. A fresh wave of tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them away as best as she was able.
"S---Sky," she managed to bring out. She grimaced at her stutter.  "S...Sorry." She didn't dare to try and say anything else. Didn't dare to try an ask him for his name, because otherwise she was going to stutter even more.
"There is absolutely nothing you need to apologise for," he repeated fiercely. "I am Azriel."
His words made something in her heart quicken, her stomach fluttering in a way that it shouldn't. A small, shaky breath left her lips at the sound of his name, and she couldn't help but repeat it to herself quietly in her head. Azriel. His name suited him perfectly.
She looked up at him, finally looking at him properly, only to find that he was looking right back at her, those deep, hazel eyes fixed on her in a way that made her heart stutter in her chest. She probably looked awful, a total wreck, and yet he was still looking at her like that.
She opened her mouth to try and speak, but only a tiny, broken squeak left her lips. So she tried again, forcing the words out from between her lips. "Azriel." His name felt so good on her lips, even if her voice broke on the second syllable, but still, she had managed to say it.
He smiled that beautiful smile of his once more, and the sight of it made her want to cry all over again. How was it that this perfect male was still here, was still looking at her like...like she was something precious? Like she was anything other than a total wreck?! She just...she just wanted to die from the humiliation of it all.
"Tell me what's wrong." It wasn't as much a statement as much as it was an order. "You were happy. And then you just..."
She sniffled, trying to stop herself from crying even more than she already had. It was hard, her eyes blinking as tears continued to well up and fall. "It's..." She took in a raspy, stuttering breath, her lips trembling. "It's ju…ju…st...just me being...being stu…stupid."
"Somehow I find that hard to believe," Azriel responded, his voice flat. "Take a deep breath. And then tell me what's wrong so I can fix this."
She blinked a few times, looking at him. He was so...straightforward. Direct. So commanding, but also so gentle. Like he actually cared. She felt...she felt so, so unworthy of that. She didn't deserve his kindness, not after acting like a complete lunatic. Still, she obeyed, taking a deep, shaky breath before trying to speak.
"You...You de…de…deserve bet…better than…than me," she whispered. Her voice was quiet, little more than a whisper, and she felt her throat thicken as she spoke. It was true, and she...she couldn't believe he was being so gentle with her. Not with how ridiculous she was being.
He stared at. "What."
She looked down, focusing her eyes on her hands that were clutched in her lap. His own hand was still resting gently on the nape of her neck. "I...I am..." She took a deep breath, forcing herself to try to explain. "You...You…you are…you. And I…I am…me.” He was so handsome. And she wasn’t beautiful in the slightest. 
Sky blinked a few times, trying not to start crying even more than she had already done. It was just so...hard. So hard to admit how...how unworthy she was of him. He was amazing, and she was a total mess. 
A complete emotional disaster.
And he was going to realise that one day and leave or cheat on her with her sister and that was going to crush her heart and...
She tried so hard to blink away the tears that welled up in her eyes. She knew...she knew that this was just a temporary thing. That he was only being this kind to her out of pity. He would see how awful she truly was, and he would leave, just like everyone else did.
"Cauldron, Love, they really did a number on you," he breathed.
She sniffled, wiping the tears that fell from her cheeks. She knew that. She knew that she was unloveable. That there was something fundamentally wrong with her. And she hated it. 
"You…you'll cho…ch…choose s…s…somebody el…else and…and I get it b…but it's go…going to h…hurt and..." she croaked out.
"I am not going to choose somebody else," he cut her off. "You are my mate."
She blinked, her heart stuttering in her chest at his words. It felt...it felt like a dream. It didn't feel real. There was no way, just no way in Hell that someone like him was her mate. She was...there was absolutely no universe where she deserved him.
"That means that until you tell me to disappear off the face of this earth, you are stuck with me," he told her softly. "That means, that I will always choose you. I will always be on your side. I will protect you and I will shelter you."
She just stared at him as her heart hammered so hard against her ribcage that she wanted to pass out. Was he....was...was he being serious? Even as broken and awful as she was...how she had just completely fallen apart in front of him....he was still...he was still saying that she was...was his mate? That he would...that he would always choose her? Protect her...shelter her?
Her side...nobody had ever seemingly been on her side.
"I..." She was at a total loss for words. Him...him wanting to...to protect her? To shelter her? It was everything she had ever wanted. But she was so, so terrified that it was all...temporary. That the moment he saw her for all the broken, damaged things that she really was...that he would leave. Everyone always left.
He lifted his hand and she leaned against it as he cupped her cheek, wiping away even more tears. "You are my mate," Azriel repeated softly. "And if I had dared to approach while your sister was still there, I probably would have wrung your sister’s neck for what she said to you."
Sky felt a small, trembling smile begin to curl at her lips. He...he was her mate. She still couldn't believe it, but there it was. He was her mate, and he actually wanted her. Not only did he want her, but he was willing to...to defend her. To protect her. To stand up for her, even against her own sister. It was more than she could ever have asked for, more than she had ever hoped for herself. And the thought...the thought of that nearly made her cry all over again.
"It's…It’s bet…better to just…to just let Cla…Claire get it out of her sys…system and not inter…in…interrupt her," she said weakly. "She runs out of steam eventual…eventually."
"You shouldn't let her speak to you like that," Azriel said softly, his hand still resting gently against her cheek. "You shouldn't have to endure her venom."
She swallowed thickly, her throat tight. She knew that, she knew that she shouldn't let Claire speak to her in such a horrible way, that she should defend herself. But...but it had just never happened. She had always been too caught up in her own head, too afraid of...of doing something wrong. Of making everything worse instead of better. Because it always seemed to end up worse whenever she tried to stand up for herself.
But...but hearing him say it....hearing him tell her that she didn't have to put up with Claire's horrible words...it made something flutter in her chest. Something akin to hope. The thought that maybe....maybe she didn't need to listen to Claire's vicious words, that maybe...maybe she could stand up for herself after all.
"She's the fa…fa…favourite," she said weakly. "Always…s wa..was. The pret…prettier one."
She sniffled, her stomach twisting at the thought of it. Claire had always been the preferred one, the one that everyone adored. And Skye had always been...well, the other one. The one that nobody wanted to be around, the one that everyone was constantly criticizing.
"She's bone deep ugly," Azriel snapped right back. "There is nothing attractive about her at all." She could just stare at him.
She blinked at him, almost in shock at his words. No one ever said things like that about Claire. Everyone was always so busy praising her beauty and her grace and her charm, but never a single one of them would ever say a single negative thing about her. But here was Azriel, outright saying that Claire wasn't attractive at all. It was...it was hard to even wrap her head around.
"You say tha…that now," Sky said weakly.She swallowed thickly, her heart clenching at the very thought of him ever changing his mind. She knew....she knew that it was a very real possibility. He might think her worthy of him now, but as soon as he got to know her....how pathetic and broken and damaged she was. The thought of losing this....losing him...it made her stomach twist painfully.
She sniffled again, wiping tears away from her cheeks, her voice weak and broken. "You won…won't think tha..that..." she whispered. "When you...when you know me more. You'll think I'm path…pathetic, too. Just like Claire does. Just like every…everyone does."
The words felt like acid in her throat, like a knife twisting through her heart. She knew that it was true, that he would think her pathetic, too. He was only being so kind to her now because he didn't really know her yet. Once he got to know her....once he saw all the broken pieces that made her up....he would realize just how unworthy she was of him.
"I think that you spent your whole life being talked to like that, and that no fucking accolade you ever got was something you take seriously." Azriel's words were harsh, and they made her come up short. 
Sky had always thought that maybe...maybe the next time she achieved something her parents would be proud of her. That they would finally tell her that she had done well. But it had never happened. They were never proud of her accomplishments, no matter how good they were. She was never good enough for them, never anything enough for them. They always just...just told her that she needed to do better. That she had the capacity to do better. That it was her fault she hadn't.
And when she had published her first book...she hadn't wanted them to ruin that for her. So she had kept it a secret from them. Then the 2nd. And the 3rd. Book after book after book. People liked what she wrote. People bought her books. And still it felt like...it wasn't real.
No matter how many books she sold, it never felt like it counted. It never felt like she had actually achieved something. And no matter how much money she had in the bank, no matter how well she fed herself or kept a roof over her head, it just...it all felt like it was built on a fragile foundation. Like it could all come falling down around her at any moment, leaving her alone, cold, and broken. 
Just like how this mating bond could seemingly break just at a snap of his fingers.
That feeling only got worse when she thought about the bond between her and Azriel. It was so new, so fragile, and she knew that he could break it if he wanted to. He didn't have to keep it, didn't have to stay by her side. He could just...just walk away and leave her in the dust. The thought made her stomach clench painfully, her eyes stinging with more tears.
"I don't want your sister. I want you," he told her softly. "You are my mate, Sky. Turn me down if you don't want me, but don't do it because you think that I don't want you. Because I do. I have never wanted anything in my life more."
His words made her heart sing, the warmth of them filling her chest to bursting. She...she didn't think she had ever been wanted in her entire life. Her parents had always been so quick to shove her aside, to tell her that she was worthless and a failure. But Azriel....he actually wanted her. He actually saw something worth keeping in her. It was more than she had ever dreamed of, the thought so impossibly perfect that it made her feel like she was going to burst into tears all over again.
Sky just stared at him, unsure of what to say, how to respond to such an open expression of adoration from him. She had never been good at accepting compliments or affection, her automatic response was always to push it away. But here was Azriel, telling her that he wanted her, that she was his mate. And how could she even think about pushing that away? How could she even consider rejecting the best thing that had ever happened to her? It was an impossible thought, one that left her feeling awed and speechless.
So instead of saying anything, Sky simply reached for him, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tightly, burying her face in his neck. She felt safe here, in his arms, like nothing could hurt her as long as he was holding her close. And in that moment, she felt more than anything that this, this was where she belonged. 
In his arms, with Azriel as her mate. It was everything she had ever wanted, and she was determined to hold onto it as tightly as she possibly could.
"I won't ev..ever turn you down," she whispered. "I was waiting for you for de…decades."
"Decades? Try half a millennia," Azriel responded.
Azriel's words made her heart stutter in her chest, her stomach twisting with butterflies. He...he had waited for her for so long?
All that time, he had been waiting patiently for his mate, and that mate had been her? It was more than she could even wrap her head around. She had always thought that no one would ever want her, that she was destined to be alone, and yet here he was, telling her that he had been waiting for her for centuries.
So Sky just clung to him, her eyes stinging with a fresh wave of tears. She couldn't believe it, couldn't believe that she was actually so important to someone. That she had actually been....been wanted by someone.She felt so unbelievably lucky, and all she wanted to do was hold on to this feeling for as long as possible. This feeling of being loved and wanted and...and worthy.
She sat back, even when she wanted nothing else but to keep being held by him, managing a weak smile. Sky couldn’t help but stare at him, couldn’t help but take in the black hair and dark hazel eyes that glinted green…and then her gaze snagged at the pair of massive, ferocious wings that sprouted from his back.
“You are Il…Illyrian?” she asked, surprise colouring her voice.
She didn't know why she was so surprised. Maybe because because there weren’t a lot of illyrians that lived in Velaris…maybe because he really didn’t seem to match the picture that most books she had read about them and their culture painted about them. 
His wings were… magnificent. Azriel’s wings were so massive, so huge and powerful, and they seemed to span an impossible distance even when  he had them folded carefulyl against his back. 
“What gave it away?” He quipped, though the ere was a grimace on his face. “I am not…whatever you may have heard…”
She flinched slightly, feeling a small pang of guilt at her reaction to his wings. She knew that Illyrians had a reputation for being brutal and ruthless, but she hadn't meant to make Azriel feel uncomfortable or ashamed of his heritage. 
"I am sor…sorry," she said sheepishly. “I was…just su…surprised. There aren’t a lot of Il…Illyrians around Velaris. I've never seen wings like yours before, j…just read about them. They're beautiful."
She looked up at him, hoping that he could see the sincerity in her gaze. She didn't want him to feel like she was judging him based on his species, or that she was scared of him just because he was Illyrian or a lesser Fae. 
“I…I got some River Nymph blood some…somewhere down the line,” she told him.”It’s the family s…scandal.”
He chuckled at that, even as he mustered her.“Your eyes,” he realised aloud, and she nodded
She blushed slightly, her heart leaping at the thought of him noticing such a small detail about her. To know that he had taken the time to observe her eyes, to notice the faint turquoise hue that came from the bit of River Nymph blood flowing through her veins, regardless of how diluted it was…It made her feel like he truly saw her, not just the broken, damaged parts of her, but everything that made her who she was.
“Gre…Great grandma from my dads s..side,” she explained. “I was the only one who got the eyes…and the bendy bones.” She had always been seen as the odd one in her family. The outcast. Growing up, it had been hard to know where she fit in. Her parents had always been so focused on her brother and her sister, on their achievements and successes, and she had always felt like she was just...there. Just existing in the background, never quite good enough to be noticed or noticed for all the wrong reasons.
“Tell me more,” Azriel requested softly, reaching out to hold her hand again.
“More of what?” she wondered, blushing slightly. 
“More about you. I want to know everything.”
Her heart skipped a beat at his request. He...he wanted to know more about her? He actually wanted to listen to her, to hear what she had to say? The thought was almost enough to make her cry all over again. No one had ever asked her about herself before, no one had ever expressed an interest in her life or her thoughts. She had always been the one listening to others, never the one being listened to…especially not with her stutter. 
”I am not that interes…interesting,” Sky said weakly.She had always been self-conscious about what she liked and didn't like, always been afraid that others would judge her for her preferences. Even the thought of telling Azriel what she enjoyed doing for fun made her feel nervous and unsure. She didn't want him to think she was boring or uninteresting, and yet...and yet she also wanted to be honest with him. She wanted him to know who she really was, even if that meant showing all her quirks and flaws.
“I write boo…books for a..for a living,” Sky told him “R…Romance novels. And I have a cat named Hector that’s …that’s ador…adorable.”
Azriel grinned at her. “I can’t wait to meet him.” She blushed at that thought. 
She had always been nervous about talking to people, about opening up and letting them know who she was, but with Azriel...it felt different. It felt right.
“What…What do you do?” Sky wondered quietly.
“I work for the High Lord,” Azriel answered. “I…gather intelligence, I guess you could say.”
"Intelligence?" she asked curiously. She had never heard of anyone who did something like that before. It sounded like a dangerous job, one that required a lot of skill and training. Azriel nodded, his expression serious. 
"Yes. I gather information about...about threats to our court. About the dangers that lurk in the world around us."
She shivered slightly at the thought of some of the dangers that Azriel had to face on a regular basis. On the things that he was confronted with every single way…He was doing what was necessary to protect their people from harm. SHe knew that it must took a lot of courage and determination to do a job like that, and she couldn’t help but feel a wave of respect for him.
Sky took a deep breath, "Is it....is it danger…dangerous? Gathering all that…all that information?" She asked nervously. "I…I mean, do…do you ev…ever...get hurt?"
Azriel's expression darkened, and he hesitated for a moment before answering. "Sometimes," he admitted. "There are always risks involved in what I do. I have been injured before, but I have also been very lucky. I have survived so far."
She shivered at the thought of him being hurt, of him being in danger. Sky couldn't bear the thought of him being harmed, of him being in pain. She wanted to protect him, to keep him safe from all the horrors of the world. It was a feeling she had never experienced before, this overwhelming need to protect someone else. But with Azriel, she felt it with every fiber of her being. She would do anything to keep him safe, to make sure he never got hurt again.
Sky took his hand in hers, gripping it tightly. "Please…Please be careful," she whispered, her eyes full of fear and worry. "I…I don't want an…anything to happen to you." I don't want to lose you. The words were unspoken, but she knew that he could hear them in her voice, in the way her fingers trembled against his.
“I am careful,” he promised her seriously. “Besides, I am not exactly on my own,” he told her seriously.
She raised an eyebrow, curiosity getting the better of her. "You…You're not on…on your own?" she asked, surprised. "Who…Who do you work with then?"
A moment later…she got her answer in the form of wreathing shadows, that welled up behind him.
For a moment Sky could just blink. 
Then: “You are a shadowsinger?!” She breathed in wonder. 
She had read about it, of course…when she had a whole phase of thinking how cool it would be if she had some kind of special powers. Sadly, there never had any manifested. No shadows for her…or mind reading either. 
Azriel chuckled softly at her reaction. "Yes," he said simply. "It's a useful skill in my line of work."
She stared at him in awe. She had read stories of the fabled shadowsingers, of their ability to control shadows and use them to do their bidding. But she had never actually met one before. They were…stupidly rare.” But clearly Azriel was one. 
“Do…Do they…talk to you?” She asked him curiously.
Azriel nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. "Yes, they do," he said. "They have their own personality and quirks, and I can communicate with them in a way that no one else can. It's a unique connection, one that I…I have grown to cherish."
They were important to him.
So Sky did the only polite thing. “It’s…nice to meet you.” She greeted them, holding out a hand. 
Azriel's shadows seemed to pause for a moment, as if taken aback by her greeting. Then they swirled around her, brushing against her skin in a gesture of introduction. 
She couldn't help but smile at the sensation of the shadows brushing against her skin, their touch neither hot nor cold. They seemed almost sentient, like they had a mind of their own. It was both strange and fascinating at the same time. "Do you have…a name?" she asked curiously.
Azriel chuckled. "No, they don’t have a name. It's just...the shadows."
She nodded in understanding. They did seem…weirdly alive. And they were so responsive to Azriel's commands, so attuned to his needs and desires, that it was hard not to think of them as a separate entity in their own right.
But still…as she wiggled her fingers and the shadows wove between them, she couldn’t help but wonder…
"What...what d…do you wan..want from me?" Sky asked him softly. What did he want? What did he expect? 
Azriel's expression softened, and he reached out to cup her cheek gently in his hand. "I want...I want whatever you are willing to give me," he said quietly. "I want to be there for you, to support you and protect you. I want to make you happy, to make you feel loved and cherished. And I want...I want to be your mate, if you'll have me."
Sky bit her lip, leaning into his touch. "I…I want that t…too," she admitted quietly. "And I really want a family one day. I want kids," she told him. 
"I want that too," he said softly, his voice full of warmth and love. "I want everything with you, Sky. All of it."
She couldn't help but smile at that admission. Hearing him say that He wanted the same thing, hearing him say that He wanted to build a future with her...it was like a dream come true. And then Skylar Alden who had always overthought everything in her life, made this one decision: "Then take me home."
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massharp1971 · 2 days ago
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Oh look I found why I'm getting anon harassment in my inbox - back from the depths of one of my shittiest years - and also note my explanations have been edited out. How very intellectual of you all to prove I'm very very stupid via the medium of memes. I give a more lengthy explanation of where I was coming from here although I'm pretty sure I did so at the time.
But also, some context: At the time of writing I was a part-time academic researcher in HUGE study related to a marginalised group. There are reasons I can't specify. The tenured professors in charge of the project had no academic background in this very niche field nor lived experience (I did and so did other junior researchers). And through the duration of the project they failed to engage with the existing research on this marginalised group, which meant by the time we came to write up they were embarassingly ignorant about the field. They also did really poor work - writing stuff up on the fly that was academically weak, poorly analysed, and poorly cited. If an undergrad had turned in what they did, they'd likely have failed. But they were professors - in UK, that means the top echelons of academia, and they could get away with any old shit. The professors were also heavily politically influenced by existing powers within the clinical field to water down what could have been incendiary findings about existing practices. I.e. the people who did not have lived experience but studied our community like bugs under a microscope were the people who called the shots. And they were also a boys club who got where they got via recommendation rather than training or academic engagement. There was no real evidence or academia underpinning much of their practice, which was part of what our research showed, and they were trying to cover up. So when I wrote this (and the more that has been cropped) I was an exhausted, burnt out academic working ridiculous hours to catch the worst of what these truly incompetent and self-serving professors were trying to put out into the world, all the while knowing that the very clinicians who were being exposed for basically abusing marginalised patients had more influence over the project than the people of lived experience (and more considerable collective academic knowledge of this particular niche) being tokenised and exploited as workers in the research, but also being silenced and ignored when convenient in the interests of power.
And the thing was, that there is such a complete lack of engagement with this community's embedded knowledge and our academic output that piss-poor academia passes muster in the field IF it props up existing biases and oppressive practice.
So I was, and continue to be, very jaded about how marginalised folks fare in academia. I'm also terrified of the way money and power dictate what research tells us and which research findings get heard and which buried. As for peer review? The "peers" reviewing are rarely embedded or of lived experience themselves, so peer review is sometimes little more than a pale stale male back slapping exercise. It vastly depends on the field, of course. But go read about the replication crisis in psychology - all that shit was peer reviewed and a whole field was built on it. You don't need to be an academic or be able to read books to tell whether academic research on marginalised people is good or not, you just need to listen to a few sensible, moderately smart people from the marginalised group, and check that they are reasonably well thought of by the group at large. Whether or not they're academics - personally, I'd pick both, because there was A LOT of pressure on those of us who were marginalised in academia to eat our words and not challenge stuff for the sake of career progression, and I came rapidly to the conclusion you cannot be a marginalised person in academia without having to make choices that may well betray your principles and your community.
Which is why I'm no longer an academic. There are other sources of learning than influencers OR academia and sometimes the best way to learn is to listen to a bunch of people who have the right experience rather blinkeredly trusting letters after their name. I got into academia through an atypical route and had written very well thought of, well researched and well cited materials including a published book before I was (briefly) an academic.
So, don't you come at me telling me I can't read. I wonder which line of this people will cherrypick to "prove" that anyone who doesn't swallow whole every last thing academics say is stupid?
(including Andrew Wakefield, presumably, because he was very much peer reviewed, but when your research feeds a moral panic about a marginalised group, peer review isn't the all-powerful catch of bad research people think it is) Will you screenshot me again so I don't get a chance to explain myself or right of reply? So I don't know why I'm suddenly having to turn my inbox off anon asks?
signed an anti-intellectual, apparently. Or maybe someone who doesn't think it's safe to go round the internet saying "believe everything academics say, peer review means you can trust each and every word of it, always, and the neoliberal and political forces that blight influencer culture are repelled entirely by red brick" I fucking wish.
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buckyalpine · 16 hours ago
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I love Bucky loving his body. I love Bucky loved by the team. I love Bucky having his happy ending with a family. Imagine Bucky lounging around the sofa with his little baby girl tucked in his arm, her sweet face covered in frosting after smothering half of her cupcake onto her cheeks. The icing is bright red just like Tony's suit and it's his birthday party afterall, so everything is in full swing. Most of the cupcake is squished between her fingers, very little actually making it into her mouth but Bucky doesn't mind. He chuckles, watching her with heart eyes as she happily smears it onto his crisp white shirt, babbling and cooing, now sucking her thumb.
He is absolutely unbothered by this, all he sees is his happy little baby with her cheeky smile licking up all the frosting just like her mama. While Bucky couldn't care less about his shirt, a few others certainly did.
"Better get dunk that shirt into a bucket of tide pens Barnes" Clint snorted.
"Actually the quicker you get it off, the less likely it is to stain. Take it off now" Tony's voice went from fatherly advice to a seductive growl making Bucky's face twist in amusement, pink starting to color his cheeks.
"Yeah, give the little munchkin to y/n and take it off. Cause of the stain" Nat agreed, cocking an eyebrow. You giggled watching the scene unfold before you, your husband growing bashfully shy.
"Can't hurt punk" Steve shrugged and Bucky's eyes nearly popped out of his head until he realized his best friend had been nursing a rather large glass of Asgardian mead. Tipsy Steve was always a little bit of a pervert...
"I-
"For the stain"
"I think you just want me to take my shirt off" Bucky huffed while you grinned, giving his cheek a peck before taking your little princess in your arms.
"Can't blame them handsome, c'mon, show em' how lucky I am" you whisper and that sells it. Couldn't hurt and since they were all asking...
"Just take it off!" Nat howled with a wink, a bunch of whistles when Bucky sighed, indulging the team a little. He unbuttons his shirt and hands it off to a genuinely concerned Sam who would normally make sure the shirt got sent to the cleaners but this is too good so he throws it into a bucket of cold water and is back within seconds.
"Good God"
"Jesus"
"You look fuckin' good terminator"
"Alright, alright" Bucky holds his hands up, unable to stop the way his ears are bright red, shaking his head when you blow him a kiss making him blush more.
"Body shots!"
"What?"
"Yes"
Tony's eyes glimmer with excitement, and Bucky snorts, loving the way you egg him on, his daughter also squealing with excitement.
"Go on Sarge, y'know you look good"
He lies down on the bar table, surrounded by just the team, abs beautifully flexed as Nat pours a generous amount of some type of alcohol right on his belly button.
"When else will we get this lucky" She says with a playful smirk while Steve cracks his knuckles.
"Why are you cracking your knuckles, what the hell do you plan on-
"ME FIRST" He doesn't give anyone a chance, face planting himself into Bucky's tummy, his lips sealed, drinking every bit of the burning liquor with a satisfied hum.
"How much has he had to drink"
"Who cares, me next"
"I think you've licked enough of my husband"
"You get him all the time, don't be greedy"
"That cute little chubby ball of frosting and giggles is enough evidence you get him every which way, besides isn't there another one cooking, y'can't have any now git"
"Blink twice if you need help"
"Bro looks like an angel"
"Why aren't you blinking"
"Crafted by the heavens"
"You like this, don't you"
Bucky can't help but chuckle, surrounded by idiots. Drunk idiots. His wife. His baby girl. Another little one on the way. All who love him. Would protect him. Life was good.
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kyksbb · 2 days ago
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Boyfriend Headcanons
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Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Reader
Requested
Word Count: 1K
Author's note: Another request, thank you anon! Enjoyyy 🫂🩷
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He’s not joking when he says it was love at first sight.
That boy saw you and you knocked the wind out of him. Like, every single cheesy love song suddenly made sense to him. Not that he’s complaining.
“Babe, I saw you, and I was done for.” And he means it. Really means it.
Jude is a serious simp. Like, on another level. No shame though.
He is the sweetest, most thoughtful boyfriend in the world.
He is the type of boyfriend to leave little notes in random places, like in your bag or on the mirror.
“Missed you already” or “You’re my favorite part of the day” in his messy handwriting.
He has your favorite snacks on hand 24/7, tucking them in your bag when you’re not looking. He gets so excited picturing you reaching in later and lighting up.
He’s the biggest tease in the world, not letting a day pass without some good natured ribbing.
Everyone knows he’s extremely competitive. You would think that he would be a gentleman and let you win when you two play games but no. He lost? Oh, he’s pouting until you bribe him with kisses all over his face.
Jude is low-key so overprotective. He keeps you close in a crowd, hand firmly laced with yours.
Also, Jude 100% knows the sidewalk rule. He always makes sure you walk outside of the sidewalk.
He’s the type of boyfriend to show that he cares for you in the smallest ways.
Always peeling the straw for you, sliding the salt over in case you need it during dinner, adjusting your scarf if it’s chilly.
By the way, you only bring your wallet for decoration when you’re out with him. He’s got you covered, period.
He’s the most supportive boyfriend ever. Whatever you’re passionate about, he’s right there. Cheering you on, sending encouraging texts before a big day, asking hundred questions about it.
He’s also the definition of impulsive gift-giver.
You remind him the color of that sweater? He’s already bought it. Found a mug with a cheesy pun you’d love? Done. “Can never have too much,” he says with a smirk.
He’s absolutely obsessed with the bond you have with his family. His parents adore you and he couldn’t be happier about that but, but, truth be told, he finds the fact that you and Jobe are always ganging up on him very annoying.
He’s an actual cuddle monster. Literally. If you’re with him and he doesn’t have his arms wrapped around you, what is he doing?
He swears his arms were “made to hold you,” but he also loves resting his head on your chest, loving when you play with his hair. The little spoon sometimes is his spot.
He says he loves to cook but that is the biggest lie known to a man. He just loves being in the kitchen while you’re cooking. He’ll sing into the spatula, mess with the ingredients, and kiss your neck until you end up doing most of the work.
“Just here for moral support,” he’ll say, grinning while you roll your eyes.
Subtle PDA is his specialty. He doesn’t go overbroad, but he’ll lace his fingers with yours in public, place his hand on your lower back, squeeze your thigh and lean in just close enough to let everyone know you’re his.
Good morning texts, guaranteed. Whether it’s his sleepy face selfie from bed, a quick snap from training, or a random shot of something that reminds him of you, he makes sure you start your day with a smile.
He asks the most random questions at the most random moments. You could be lounging on the couch with him and he’d be like “If animals could talk, which one you reckon would be the rudest?” Or, “Who do you think would win in a dance off, me or my coach?”
You both have tons of inside jokes. Sometimes it takes a one look or a one word and you’re both cracking up uncontrollably.
He is actually obsessed with snapping candid shots of you. Whether you’re laughing with friends, squinting at the menu, or lost in thought, he loves capturing you in your most natural moments.
Jude has this adorable habit of kissing your forehead at the most random times. If you’re talking excitedly about something, he’ll suddenly lean over, press a kiss to your forehead, and say, “I love how passionate you get about this.”
When he does it in public, he’ll pull you close with a slight smirk, like he’s silently telling everyone around just how much he adores you.
He’s memorized exactly how you like your coffee and surprises you with it just the way you like when you’re feeling lazy in the morning.
If you’re still in bed, he’ll bring it to you, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder to wake you.
Sometimes, he’ll try to make cute designs in the foam but laugh when they look more like blobs.
He’ll randomly offer you a piggyback ride, even if you’re just walking a short distance. He claims it’s because he’s “keeping you safe” but really just loves carrying you around.
If you’ve had a long day, he’ll give you a piggyback ride all the way to bed, tucking you in with a soft kiss on your forehead and a cheeky, “Lucky I’m here, huh?”
When he’s away, he leaves you cute, funny voice notes throughout the day. They range from “Hey, miss you” to “Guess what I saw today?”
Sometimes, he tries to make up a song about you, laughing through it because he’s making up random lyrics that don’t rhyme.
Whenever you have a small problem, like a squeaky door, a broken lamp, or your favorite necklace clasp breaking, Jude takes it as his personal mission to fix it, even if he doesn’t know how.
He’s ridiculously proud when he finally fixes something and says he’s “earning boyfriend points.”
Jude often talks about the future with you in it. He’ll casually say things like, “When we have a place together…” or “Our future kids would be the cutest,” and then he’ll get adorably shy, rubbing the back of his neck, realizing what he just said.
In conclusion, Jude Bellingham is a huge boyfriend material.
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etheraltides · 1 day ago
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BITTER SWEET ᥫ᭡࿔
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Pairing: Rafe Cameron x kook!thornton!Reader
Summarize: Rafe Cameron, a rising name in the business world, desperately needs a date for the wedding of the year. With a major investment deal on the line and his image at stake, he finds himself reluctantly turning to the last person he ever expected for help: Topper’s little sister, a girl he’s bickered with since he could remember.
Warning(s): cursing, mention of grief, drugs.
A/N: I hope y’all like long chapter ‘cause your girl seriously got carried away with building things between them. Feedback is always heart warming <3!
˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ Chapter three: Can we call it truce? ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊
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The hum of the engines filled the cabin, lulling most of the passengers in the business class into a calming state. Most, that is, except for you. You sat beside Rafe, trying to focus on the book at hand, your foot tapping a frustrated rhythm on the floor as he sprawled beside you enough to invade your space, oozing an insufferable amount of calm. Even with the extra room, it felt cramped - his very presence seemed to fill the air in the whole plane. His breathing was annoying you.
Rafe, meanwhile, stretched out his legs, his arm draped across the armrest to the point his fingers would brush your knees if you moved just a tide bi, his gaze lazily drifting away from his phone towards you. "You look like you're about to combust or something." He murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. "What? Didn't that douchebag do a good job with you?"
You gritted your teeth, resisting the urge to smack him across the face with your self-improving book, slamming its cover closed. The last thing you wanted was to have everyone looking at you as you shared your lovely words with Rafe. "Why the fuck are you so obsessed with him? Sounds like someone isn't getting laid..." You gave a cynical smile, thriving as you noticed the smirk dropping from his lips instantly. Now, that'd always be priceless. "I wouldn't be, if you didn't act like you owned half of my seat as well."
"C'mon, don't be dramatic." He stretched out further, nudging your eyeglasses as you tried to dodge your head but of course, his long arms would reach you. His smirk widened when you shot him a warning glare, almost as if daring you to do something. "You're by choice, remember? I can always tell Topper about that broken touron... Plus, I paid for both seats so I technically can be as comfortable as I wish."
"Barely." Your eyes narrowed, fingers clenching around the book. "One wrong move and I'm asking for a different seat."
Rafe raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening enough to grace you with a dimple. A ridiculous dimple that'd be adorable in anyone but not on him. "Go ahead. Maybe you'll find a seat in coach where you belong."
That was it. Without thinking, you raised your hand, drawing the attention of a flight attendant passing by as you smacked your book against his chest with the other, a small satisfied smirk on your lips as you heard him groan.
"Yes, miss? Can I help you?" The attendant's polite smile faltered as she glanced between you, clearly sensing the simmering tension. Even a senseless person could tell. Anyone but you two.
"Yes, actually." You leaned forward, using your best sweet voice but not even it couldn't hide the clipped tone completely. "Could I switch seats? I'm afraid I'd be more comfortable elsewhere."
The attendant looked at you, then at Rafe, and back again, her expression sympathetic but warry. "I'm sorry, miss, but we're at full capacity here in business class. I could check for a seat in coach, but..." She trailed off, her eyes shifting to Rafe's amused expression as he tried to cover his laugh with a cough.
The tension in your shoulders tightened, your jaw clenched as you forced a smile. That’s what you get for trying to be a good human being. “Never mind, I'll manage.. Thank you."
You could feel his gaze lingering on you. amusement sparkling in his eyes as he leaned back, satisfied. "Looks like you're stuck with me." He murmured, his finger hooking on top of you glasses again only to push them lower on the bridge of your nose before you slapped his hand away.
You ignored him, staring ahead and steeling yourself. Yet as the minutes passed by, his presence beside you felt unbearable. You could feel his gaze every now and then, could sense his satisfaction in your discomfort. When the plane finally touched down, you were nearly ready to explode and take the first flight back - but then you remembered your part of the bargain and something strange tugging at your chest.
Hours later, in the quietness of your hotel room, you inspected your dress in the mirror, mind turning over the insanity of this arrangement. Why had you agreed to this? You hardly owed him anything, especially not this. And yet, here you were, preparing yourself to play a role in his life that the mere thought of the idea made you want to throw up. Maybe, deep down, you'd wanted to help, wanted to see him succeed just this once - he had recently lost Ward so... Maybe you could cut him some slack just this once. But as you took one last glance in the mirror, your couldn't shake the creeping doubt that this was all a huge mistake.
By the time you arrived at the beachside reception, you were determined to remain calm, to put up with Rafe and all of this madness for one weekend. You'd view it as one of your college projects. A small leaf of kindness to a boy who lost his father. "I'm doing these for Topper." You thought to yourself. It'd be one less thing for Topper to deal with.
The sun was setting over the ocean, casting a warm golden glow over the guests. It was exquisite honestly. Small tables dotted the pavemented area, surrounded by low, flickering lanterns and decorated with delicate pinkish flower arrangements. The sound of waves mingled with the soft music being played by the band as people chatted and laughed. You inhaled deeply, letting the salty ocean breeze wash over you. It felt good to be away from home. You loved Outer Banks but the way people were always paying attention and gossiping about the smallest steps of each other made you feel like someone had a hand on your throat, cutting your air from time to time. Here, despite a few familiar faces, you didn't have to be Thorton's perfect girl nor live under your mother's pressuring expectations 24/7. Even if you were here to play a fake part, it felt a bit more freeing than being your family's fake part at home. You smoothed down your dress. You could do it and you would enjoy this weekend.
Rafe held back a smile as he shook the man's hand, his heart pumping with adrenaline and pride as South Carolina's biggest real estate agent said he'd love to see some of the properties Ward had left for Rafe back in Charleston either to sell or rent. Rafe needed money after his deception with the Golden Cruise and wouldn't use most of the properties now in his name - that'd be some easy way to make money. The man excused himself with a squeeze on Rafe's shoulder and for what felt like hours, he finally had a moment to breathe.
His gaze shifted through the crowd, looking for a specific familiar face he hadn't seen since they arrived at the hotel - part of him was afraid you'd turn your back and be on your way to Outer Banks now without a word. You hadn't come outside your room when he knocked earlier, though he hadn't exactly waited around to see if you'd answer. He counted to thirty before sending you a text with the location and hour. But now, with the deep hues of the setting sun casting an amber glow across the venue, he spotted you. Faster than he'd like to admit.
You stood on the edge of the terrace, deep in conversation with a small group. The soft fabric of your dress catching the light and floating with each of your movements and the kisses of wind. Rafe's jaw tightened as he took you in, the vibrant color of your dress constrasting with your sunkissed skin and the effortless confidence setting you apart from the crowd. Your lips curled into an easy, practiced smile as you listened to an elder woman, but your eyes held a spark he'd seen many times before - sharp, observant.
A guest brushed past him, and he blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. Shaking his head slightly, he turned and made his way over the bar, feeling the strain of your reality settle in his muscles. You'd worn him thin on the flight, the words you exchange a mix of cutting remarks and barely veiled insults. And yet, here he was, his gaze drawn back to you as if on a string.
While he waited for the drinks, he glanced your way again, just as you glanced toward him - though you looked away just as quickly, a subtle arch of your brow signaling that your attention was far from amused. Rafe's lip twisted into a smirk, though he couldn't shake the strange irritation knotting in his chest.
When he finally turned back with the drinks in his hands, you were nowhere near where he'd last seen you. Annoyed, he scanned the crowd, his brows drawing together. He had texted you to don't be all over the place by yourself, not wanting to risk you doing something wrong that would fall on him. Then, across the terrace, he saw you.
You finally managed to take a breath from your grandma's acquaintances, the tension ebbing away from your shoulders until you felt a hand on your lower back, guiding you forward. You could know it was him before you even looked. That scent of warm spices with a touch of amber. His touch was infuriating to raise a few bumps on your skin. His breath brushed your ear as he leaned closed. "Try not to get too lost in the view, sweetheart." He murmured. "We're her for business, remember? I need you around."
You bristled, shifting away from his touch. "I'm perfectly aware, Cameron. You think I'm talking to them because I'm having the time of my life?"
He laughed under his breath, the sound grating before he sipped on his whiskey. "Relax. You're wound so tight, it's a miracle you haven't cracked yet."
You gritted your teeth, sending him a glare. The comment hit a bit deeper than he probably meant to. "Maybe I wouldn't be if I weren't stuck here with you."
His eyes glinted with something unreadable. "Right. Because I'm such a nightmare." He gave you a once-over, an annoying cockish smirk curling at the edge of his mouth that could barely go unnoticed. Barely. "That's rich coming from the one rolling around with low-life tourists... Just don't embarrass me, alright?"
Your mouth fell open, anger flaring as you held the urge to roll back your eyes. Shit, he would never let you hear the end of it, wouldn't he? Well, you had tried to be civil but he wasn't really helping so two could dance. "Embarrass you? I think I should be the one saying that giving your... history."
"Let's hope so." He said, shrugging nonchalantly but you could notice his jaw clenching, the way he quickly brought the glass to his lips again. You had got him. "This is my reputation on the line, after all."
Of course, he'd give the last word. You felt the urge to shove him, to break through that self-assured arrogance. But instead, you squared your shoulders, grabbed the glass from his hand, and turned your back on him, weaving through the crowd on your own. The farther you were from him, the better. How dared he? Embarrass him? You? He should be thanking you and making sure you were content enough to don't simply abandon him, and not acting like an asshole. "But that was Rafe Cameron." You reminded yourself.
As the evening wore on, you found yourself talking to a few guests, your confidence growing with each conversation and familiar faces. This was more your territory than Rafe's. Some of them you knew because of your grandfather, the others because of your mother, having seen them in the events your family hosted throughout the year - coming from an influential family had its perks as much as it had its downs - but, of course, you wouldn't tell Rafe yet. Then, you notice someone.
Mr. Rossi’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he spotted you. He made his way through the small crowd, his gray hair neatly combed back, a hint of cologne trailing behind him.
“Ah, you have grown so much since we last saw you,” he said, his voice rich with genuine affection. He extended a hand, firm yet welcoming. His grin revealed lines carved by years of smiles.
Before you could respond, Mrs. Rossi appeared at your side, her silk dress rustling softly as she leaned in, pressing a light kiss to your cheek. “Look at you,” she whispered with a warmth that made you feel instantly at home.
You took his hand, giving it a confident shake, your eyes sparkling. “Mr. and Mrs. Rossi, it’s so good to see you both!” A touch of nostalgia filled your voice, mingling with excitement. “And not just that,” you added, a playful lilt coloring your words as you shifted your weight, leaning slightly forward. “I’ll be taking my grandfather’s place in the upcoming tennis match this year, so... you two better come prepared.” You finished with a wink, your smile broadening as a flush of warmth crept into your cheeks.
Mr. Rossi let out a hearty chuckle, the sound resonating in his chest. He squeezed your hand before releasing it, exchanging a glance with his wife, who raised her eyebrows in mock alarm. “So, you’re the partner he’s been bragging about all lately.” He said, his tone laced with pride. He leaned slightly closer, his eyes narrowing playfully. “I guess we better watch out, love” He said to Mrs. Rossi, who nodded with a conspiratorial smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling with mirth.
“Oh, we’ll be there.” She said, a teasing note in her voice as she crossed her arms gently. “But don’t think for a moment we’ll go easy on you.”
The three of you laughed, the sound weaving seamlessly into the lively background, quickly launching into conversation. You remembered Rafe detailing every single thing about the business partner he wanted to attract but you'd never linked that with Mr. Rossi, an old good friend of your grandpa. You wanted to laugh at the coincide of it all, ignoring the small part of you that worried he'd bring this eventually with your family around.
It wasn’t long before Rafe appeared, a new drink in hand, eyes narrowed as he assessed the scene before him. His gaze swept over Mr. and Mrs. Rossi, then settled on you, a flash of frustration momentarily darkening his features. He took a slow sip, composing himself before approaching with a casual stride, masking the tightness in his chest.
You felt the subtle shift in the room before you saw him, the energy becoming taut. A mischievous smile played on your lips as you glanced his way, catching his eye. Without hesitation, you reached out, your fingers curling around his forearm to draw him closer. “I imagine you’ve already met my boyfriend.” You said, the word ‘boyfriend’ laced with a playful edge that danced just shy of sarcasm.
Rafe’s expression softened as he took his cue, slipping seamlessly into the role. “Not formally.” He said smoothly, a spark of amusement flickering in his eyes as he glanced at Mr. and Mrs. Rossi. “Rafe Cameron.” He added, offering his hand with a practiced charm that belied the tension beneath the surface.
Anne’s eyes lit up as she clasped Rafe’s hand, her touch light but approving. “You’ve got yourself a keeper, Mr. Cameron.” She said, her smile sincere as she exchanged a knowing look with her husband.
Rafe chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. “I try my best,” he replied, casting a sidelong glance at you. “Though she makes it an interesting challenge.”
Mr. Rossi nodded, a hint of businesslike interest crossing his face. “Speaking of challenges, I hear your office has been making waves recently.” he said. “I’ll make sure to pay a visit while I’m in town for the match.”
Rafe’s eyes flickered with a moment of surprise as he processed the unexpected connection but remained composed. “We’d be glad to have you,” he said, keeping his voice steady.
You squeezed Rafe’s arm gently, catching the subtle tension in his jaw. “Looks like we’ll be keeping busy.” You said lightly, breaking the moment with a smile.
Mr. Rossi chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “Indeed. I look forward to seeing just how much you both can juggle.”
The laughter that followed softened the air, weaving seamlessly into the lively atmosphere. Then Mr. Rossi checked his watch, saying it was time for his speech, joking about how he didn't want his daughter going bradzilla for his small delay.
You bit back a laugh, turning to Rafe. "You don't look happy, boyfriend." The word rolled off your tongue sweetly, a pout on your lips as a hint of mockery shone in your eyes.
Rafe's jaw clenched, and he took a slow sip of his drink, his gaze unwavering as he watched you. "You're awfully smug for someone who almost ended up in coach."
"Oh, come on." You retorted, leaning a little closer, your fingers opening the first two buttons of his shirt as you adjusted the collar, feeling a rush of confidence. God, it felt great to have the upper hand on him. "You needed me here tonight more than you imagined, huh? I'm the reason Rossi even bothered with you for more than a call from his secretary and an invitation to this."
He raised an eyebrow, his eyes looking down at your manicured nails on his shirt before he met your eyes, amusement flickering in them but it was laced with something darker. "Don't flatter yourself too much. He had already invited me here to discuss business. You're just playing your part to make me look more... stable."
"Sure... I'd hate for you to realize he'd avoid you in this crowd but yeah, suit yourself. Maybe I should get a cut of whatever deal you're hoping to land here."
Rafe smirked, leaning close enough that his breath ghosted over your cheekYou should push him away. Nope, couples don't push each other away. Playing your part. "Maybe you're enjoying this a little too much. I hate to say it but you look like you're having fun, princess."
Heat prickled at your cheeks as you realized his nearness, but you refused to back down. Couples don't push each other away and as he said, you were here to play your part. "Maybe I am. Pretending I'd choose you willingly has been quite the challenge though. I deserve a medal for this, maybe a Nobel."
Rafe chuckled, low and dark, your hand felt the vibrations on his chest as you tried to recall when you had rested them there. "Keep telling yourself that.”
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You found yourself mingling with Mr.Rossi's daughter and her friends as the evening unfolded, laughing over shared stories about her soon-to-be-husband and single days while you sipped on champagne, letting yourself unwind in their easy company.
Across the terrace, Rafe nursed another glass of whiskey, his gaze wandering lazily around the crowd as he tried to pretend to be listening to whatever the man has been telling him for the past few minutes. He caught sight of a few men gathered nearby, theirs heads turned in one direction as they didn't bother to keep their comments to a low tone. His curiosity piqued - anything that wasn't the man talking the details about his basic sanitation network company. Rafe followed their line of sight and he froze, his glass top mid way to his lips.
There you were, surrounded by a group of women, your laughter light and genuine as you gestured with your hands excitedly, oblivious to the attention around you. You looked radiant, a far cry from the guarded, defensive person he was used to sparring with.
For a moment, Rafe felt his breath hitch. You looked... Happy, and there was something about that image, about you, that made his chest tighten in an unfamiliar way. He couldn't tear his gaze away, struck by how beautiful you looked when you weren't rolling your eyes or trying to push him away. Honestly, he couldn't even remember seeing you this carefree... Ever.
Then he caught the voice of one of the men beside him, a dark-haired guy leaning over to murmur to his friend. "Shit, man... I may shoot my shot. It doesn't look like she's with anyone here."
Rafe felt an unexpected, sharp pang on his stomach that quickly irradiated through him, and before he knew it, he was turning to the man with an arrogant smirk, an unmistakble edge to his voice. "She's taken, actually. My girl."
The man raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise and dissapointment crossing his face that had Rafe's smirk widening. "Really? Lucky bastard, hm. If I were you, I'd be as close as possible to her." He gave Rafe an amused nod, his eyes briefly running over your figure one last time before he turned back to his friends.
Rafe felt his grip on the glass tightneing, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his jaw. He was here for business. To show a clean image - he reminded himself.
As he dawned the rest of the liquor, the words that just spilled from his mouth echoing in his mind. My girl. His jaw clenched as the licour hit his throat, the reality of what he'd implied without thinking twice settling heavily on him. He wasn't jealous. Of course not. This was all just a part of the act, part of maintaining the appearances. He was just making sure they didn't ger the wrong idea - that was all. Definitely.
But as he looked towards you, he couldn't deny the surge frustration that rose in him when he saw another guy approach your group, a bright smile on his face as he joined in the conversation. He watched as you smiled back, looking genuinely delighted, your laugh seemed to pull everyone around you into your orbit. His fingers tightened around his glass again, and he felt a strange mix of pride and irritation twist inside him.
After a few minutes of watching, he couldn't take it anymore.
"Excuse me." He patted the sanitation guy on the shoulder without sparring him a glance nor bothering for a reply. He strode over, inserting himself into the circle with a charming smile, though his gaze was focused entirely on you. The other women greeted him with polite nods, but you turned with an arched brow when you felt his arm circling your waist, pulling you closer to the side of his body as if he had every right to.
"Having fun, baby?" He murmured, his eyes scanning your face, noting the soft flush in your ceeks - either from the champagne, him or your laughing, he couldn't tell. "Seems like you're doing better than I expected on your own."
"Why, jealous?" You teased, not missing a beat, a smirk curling at your lips as you caught the slight edge in his tone.
Rafe's smirk faltered for a split second before he forced a scoff. "Of you? Hardly. Just keeping an eye on things. After all, you are here with me, remember?"
Your gaze narrowed as he was the one to excuse himself earlier when both were walking around together and chatting with the other guests. The glint of amusement in your eyes told him that you weren't taking his words to heart. "Oh, I remember..." You replied, tilting your head to the side. "Just didn't realize you'd be so... attentive."
He shifted, suddenly a bit unsure. "I'm just... Making sure everything goes smoothly tonight, alright?" He muttered, sounding more defensively than he expected. "Look, it's not like I care who you're talking to or anything. We just have an image to keep."
You arched your brow, a playful smile tugging on the corner of your lips as you leaned a little closer, dropping your voice just low enough for only him to hear. "Good. Because I almost thought you were jealous, Rafe."
Rafe scoffed, straightening up and immediately tearing his gaze away from his lips to the ocean behind you. "Please. Like I'd be jealous over you... this." He waved a hand, gesturing vaguely at your figure, thought his eyes betrayed him, lingering a moment longer than he intended. Stupid dress.
The band started playing something softer and Lia, Mr. Rossi's daughter, grabbed the champagne glass from the people's hands, handing it to the first waiter that walked by. "Come on. I want all the couples dancing to this. I'd love to have it on footage."
You furrowed your brows, glancing over at her and then Rafe. The idea of dancing with him sounded absurd, even more in a crowd, making you hesitate for a moment but the mischievous glint in his eyes pulled you in.
Rafe held out a hand, his expression challenging. "What's wrong? Afraid you're going to catch feelings?"
You rolled your eyes, but before you could second-guess yourself anymore and make it suspicious, he took your hand and you let him lead you to the dance floor, feeling your heart speeding up. It's okay. It's just like midsummer - you repeated to calm yourself even if you always panicked during dances on midsummer, afraid that’d take a wrong step and all the heads would turn and see you.
The moment his arm wrapped around your waist, drawing you close, you felt a spark of electricity run through you. It was probably your anxiety, right?
The world around you seemed to blur, the hum of conversations fading into the background as he kept you close, his grip strong but not bruising. Firm as he pulled you into a gentle sway, his gaze locked onto yours with something that made your heart race a bit more. His hating gaze looked a bit different...
For once, you weren't fighting, weren't throwing sarcastic comments at each other. You were simply... around, moving in rhythm, caught up in a moment you hadn't ever thought possible. His hand was warm agaisnt your bare back, his touch not letting you move too far from him as he guided you.
Rafe's voiced dropped to a murmur, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. "You don't always need to be at my throat, you know?"
You raised an eyebrow, a soft laugh escaping. Honestly, you couldn't even remember why it started but you were sure he had given you a reason. "And miss out on all the fun? Never."
He huffed a quiet laugh, the corner of his mouth curving upward as he shifted his weight, leaning a fraction closer. The playful defiance between you seemed to thrum in the small space left between your bodies. A ghost of a smile played on his lips, but his eyes narrowed, holding yours with an intensity that sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. “Careful, you might start to like me.”
For a heartbeat, silence settled between you, thick and humming, before you felt the corners of your mouth twitch, shaking your head as a disbelief chuckle left your lips.
“Shut up.” You chuckled, your arms wrapping around his neck tired of holding resting his shoulder because of the height difference.
But as you looked up at him, the warmth of his hand on your back, you couldn’t shake the feeling that, even if it was just for a moment, you’d both let your guard down – and neither of you had hated it.
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You and Rafe had just stepped off the dance floor, still laughing over the memory of Topper’s ridiculous stunt at last year’s family gathering. The thought of him, trying - and failing - at impressing everyone with his off-key karaoke performance that he had trained for weeks, was enough to keep the laughter bubbling between you.
“Honestly.” Rafe laughed, shaking his head. “He’s lucky he didn’t break something. I’m not even sure how the microphone survived the entire thing.”
You snorted, your amusement lighting up the moment and you quickly covered your mouth, cheeks heating as you waited for Rafe’s teasing but he did none, the crease on the corner of his eyes deepening as his smile stretched. “I think the whole room aged ten years listening to him butcher that song. We should’ve charged tickets.”
Rafe’s smile softened, and for a moment, the usual tension between you both seemed to melt away. But before you could tease him further, a man approached, his expression serious, as if he’d been waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
“Rafe.” the man said, clapping him lightly on the back, his tone overly familiar. “I just wanted to say how sorry I am about your father. Losing him like that… it must be incredibly hard.”
Rafe’s smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. He couldn’t even remember this man’s face. Probably someone that saw him and his dad in one of those award parties. “Thanks.” He replied, his tone polite but distant.
The man seemed to ignore the subtle shift in Rafe’s mood, continuing on with his monologue. “Yeah, I can only imagine. Your father was a legend - everyone respected him. I mean, not many people could’ve built what he did. A huge legacy. It must feel like a heavy burden, huh?”
Rafe’s jaw tightened, and his eyes flicked to you. You could practically see the frustration building in him, but the man kept talking, completely oblivious to the discomfort he was causing or simply not caring enough.
“You know, the pressure of living up to someone like that…it’s gotta be tough. Everyone’s always expecting you to fill those shoes, to carry on the family name. I don’t know how you manage it, but it must be exhausting.”
The tension in the air was palpable, and Rafe was clearly struggling to stay polite. But before he could respond, you couldn’t take it anymore nor risk Rafe loosing his cool here out of all the places.
“I need air,” you blurted out, voice sharp and breathless. You placed a hand on Rafe’s arm, pulling at him urgently. “I feel like I’m gonna pass out or something. I just— I need to get out of here, baby.”
Rafe looked at you in surprise, his brows furrowing for a second before he caught onto it. He stood straighter, clearly thankful for the distraction. You gave him a small but determined nod, practically dragging him away from the conversation.
“Come on, let’s get to the beach. Now.” you added, not giving him a chance to argue. You tugged him harder this time, the tension in your voice sharp, hoping it was enough to convince the man to leave him alone for the night.
The man was still rambling, oblivious to Rafe’s discomfort. “It’s just… it’s not easy living with that kind of legacy, right?”
Rafe turned back to him with a forced smile, cutting him off before he could say more. “Sorry, we really need some air.” He said quickly, his hand around your waist as if you needed to be supported to the way. “She’s not feeling well, and I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to stay in the crowd.”
Rafe shot the man a tight smile. “Thanks for the condolences.”
The man looked confused but nodded. “Of course. Take care, Rafe.”
As you pulled Rafe toward the beach, you didn’t stop until you were far enough away from the terrace. You let out a shaky breath, your frustration turning into a quiet laugh of disbelief.
“You okay?” You turned your head back, looking at Rafe cautiously once both had put enough distance between the man, almost reaching the beach.
He turned to you, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. “Yeah. Just… feels like everyone wants to remind me of it tonight.” he said, glancing back to the party before he glanced at you, chewing on his bottom lip as he tried keep his emotions at bay. He had lost the count of how many people came to talk to him about his dad and how impossible would it be to fill in his shoes. “You really saved me there.” He rubbed the back of his head.
“It was nothing.” You shrugged, letting out a long sigh as you felt the breezy air in your face.
Rafe gave you a grateful look, his stiff posture relaxing a little. “No, I’m glad you stepped in. That guy was relentless.”
You stopped just before you could step onto the sand and bent down to slip off your heels, the sound of your dress rustling as you lifted the hem to avoid dragging it through the sand.
Rafe’s gaze lingered on you, a mixture of admiration and confusion etched across his face as you balanced your heels in one hand. For a fleeting moment, you noticed a hint of something in his eyes, something that made your heart race. You released his hand to free up both of yours, but the sudden loss of his warmth sent a strange ache through you, as if you were missing it. Must be the chilly wind.
“Are you coming or what?” you called over your shoulder, a teasing lilt in your voice that made him smile.
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The sound of the waves, rhythmic and calming, filled the space between you, casting a serene contrast to the fading noise of the party behind. The cool night breeze touched your skin, making you feel both exposed and comforted, wrapped in the solitude of the beach.
Rafe stood beside you, his features illuminated by the silver glow of the moon. Without a word, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blunt, rolling it between his fingers with easy practice just to make sure it was tight in place. You watched him discreetly, curiosity stirring as he flicked the lighter and brought the flame to the tip. The brief burst of light illuminated his features – sharp jawline, focused eyes, the way his lips curved slightly as he took a drag.
You couldn’t look away, your eyes tracing the path of the smoke as it curled and rose, dissipating into the cool night air. It felt almost intimate, watching him like this, and you swallowed, trying to steady your thoughts when he turned and caught your gaze.
“Want some?” His voice broke the silence, low and inviting as he could sense your eyes on him.
A rush of nerves surged through you, mingling with anticipation. “I uh… haven’t smoked before. Topper always said it’d look bad for the family and that mom would disown me if she ever found out” you admitted, the corners of your lips lifting in a faint, rueful smile though your voice was quieter than usual, small.
Rafe’s brow arched, the shadow of amusement flickering in his eyes. If only you knew the things Topper did whenever he magically disappeared from the parties. “And what do you think?” The question was casual, but there was an edge of something deeper beneath it.
You took a breath, letting the salt-laced air fill your lungs. “I think I’m done caring about that.”
His smirk grew, and for a second, the intensity in his gaze softened. “Good.” He took another slow drag, the orange ember glowing against the dark, and held it out to you. His fingers brushed yours as you reached for it, a spark of contact that sent a shiver through you.
“Just inhale slowly, let it settle,” he said, his voice steady, a grounding presence in the rush of your heartbeat.
You brought the blunt to your lips, eyes flicking to him once more as you mirrored the movement you’d seen him make. The smoke tasted sharp, unfamiliar, and you exhaled with a cough, eyes watering slightly. Rafe’s smirk turned into a grin, warm and teasing. Almost proud.
“Not bad.” he said, amusement lacing his words. “Better than most the first time.”
A laugh escaped you, loosening the last of the tension. “I’ll take that.”
The two of you walked slowly, the cool sand shifting beneath your feet as the night deepened. The warmth from the smoke spread through your chest, lifting the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, catching the way the moonlight traced the strong lines of his face.
“Do you smoke often?” you asked, more to break the silence than anything else and you wanted to slap yourself for the question. Really?
Rafe’s expression shifted, a brief shadow crossing his features. “Not really. Only when I need to clear my head.” He looked out at the horizon, where the dark sky met the shimmering waves as he took the joint from your fingers, taking a long drag. “It helps keep the noise out.”
A quiet understanding settled between you. “I can’t imagine how hard it’s been” you said softly, your voice carrying the weight of what you didn’t say. “Losing your dad…”
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, his guard slipped, cracking enough to allow you to catch a glimpse of the raw ache beneath. “Yeah.”
For a moment, the space between you felt smaller, the silence charged with shared vulnerability. You took another drag, the taste still foreign but less jarring, and exhaled slowly as Rafe’s eyes returned to yours, something unreadable in their depths.
Rafe’s eyes lingered on yours for a moment longer before he shifted his gaze back to the horizon, the moonlight casting a silvery sheen over the waves as they rolled in. For once, the silence wasn’t biting.
You took another careful drag, this time holding it a bit longer before exhaling, just like he did earlier, but you were still unable to get rid of the cough completely. The warmth in your chest spread further, easing the last traces of tension from your body. It was strange and exhilarating to be here, outside the lines your mom had always drawn for you, with him of all people.
Rafe broke the silence, his voice softer, almost contemplative. “You know, you don’t have to be ‘perfect’ all the time.” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, a hint of something unreadable in his expression. “It’s okay to let people see the real you. Acting like a human being and all.”
The words hit deeper than you expected. You looked down, your toes digging into the cool, damp sand. “I don’t even know who that is half the time" you admitted, the confession slipping out before you could stop it, swinging your heels softly to distract yourself from the embarrassment in your chest.
Rafe turned to face you fully, his expression serious but not hard. “Maybe it’s time you find out.”
The sincerity in his tone made your heart stutter. You met his gaze, and for a moment, everything else fell away - the distant party, the rolling waves, the cool bite of the night air. It was just the two of you, standing on the edge of something that felt completely new.
Before you could say anything, he took a step closer, close enough that you could see the faint stubble on his jaw, the way the moonlight caught the flecks of grey in his blue eyes. The scent of smoke and saltwater surrounded you, heady and grounding, mixed with his perfume.
“Rafe…” Your voice came out quieter than intended, the space between you charged with tension.
He searched your face, a soft smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah?” His voice was low, a whisper meant for only you.
The truth is, you didn’t know.
You felt the urge to close the gap, to see what would happen if you let yourself fall just a little further into this to see where would it go. But before you could move, he reached out, fingers brushing your cheek as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The touch was fleeting but sent a shiver down your spine.
What was happening?
“I kinda like this version of you.” he said, the honesty in his tone making your heart thump wildly.
For the first time in a long while, you felt seen - not as the person everyone expected you to be, but as yourself. The realization was both thrilling and terrifying. You looked up at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe I do too.”
Rafe’s eyes softened, and without another word, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his fingers placing the blunt in front of your lips. The two of you walked without a hurry and direction, the few glasses of champagne you had earlier and Rafe's glasses of whiskey distracting both of you from the situation, from what it looked like and what it could possibly mean.
The air between you felt different now, the silence thick with something unspoken, the kind of tension that crackled in the spaces between your words. Rafe’s eyes lingered on yours a moment longer than usual before he shifted his gaze back to the horizon, where the moonlight kissed the waves in a dance of silver and blue.
A strange warmth bloomed in your chest, spreading through your body like the soft glow of embers catching fire. The world felt sharper - every scent, every sound more pronounced. The night air nipped at your skin, but it felt distant, almost dreamlike.
Then it hit you like a wave crashing against the shore: you had just smoked weed. You, the one who had lived carefully, each step monitored, each decision weighed against the unspoken expectations of your family, had done something completely impulsive. The absurdity of it made your lips twitch, and before you could stop it, a small laugh bubbled up from deep inside.
You covered your mouth quickly, but it escaped anyway - another giggle, this one louder and harder to contain. You shook your head, eyes wide with disbelief, and tried to stifle the sound, but the harder you tried, the more it slipped free.
Rafe's gaze flicked to you, his lips curling into a grin as he watched you. “There it is” he teased, a knowing lilt in his voice. “I was wondering when the giggles would show up.”
You shook your head in mock exasperation, still unable to stop the fits of laughter, feeling your cheeks burning in embarrassment. “I can’t believe I just did that. I actually smoked weed. Oh my God. Don't tell Topper!" You looked at him with wide eyes, pointing a manicured nail towards his chest.
Rafe arched his brow, his head leaning down until his breath was touching your ear. “What’s your bargain?”
You blinked for a second, before you pushed his chest away, letting out a dramatic “Ew, Cameron!”
Rafe chuckled, his voice warm in the cool night air. “Welcome to the club, sweetheart. It’s liberating, isn’t it? Letting go for once?”
You nodded, the last of your giggles dying down as you met his gaze. There was something in the way he looked at you - understanding, maybe a little deeper than you expected. It made your chest tighten in a different way now.
“Yeah..." you whispered, your voice softer than before. “It really does.”
The next few moments passed in a quiet, comfortable silence, the only sound being the soft rush of waves against the shore. Every so often, a burst of laughter escaped you, and Rafe joined in, his chuckle easy and carefree.
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By the time you reached the hotel, the city hummed with late-night life, a symphony of distant laughter and the occasional honk of a cab. The mix of champagne and weed had left your steps unsteady, your senses softened around the edges. Somewhere along the way, Rafe’s arm had slipped around your waist, steadying you as you swayed with a giggle. The warmth of his touch felt too natural, too easy for two people who supposedly couldn’t stand each other.
“You think we’ll make it to the room before I collapse in a heap of elegance?” you teased, the words slurred with playfulness, though a flicker of doubt clung to the end.
Rafe smirked, casting a sideways glance down at you. “At this rate? You’re lucky I haven’t thrown you over my shoulder already,” he said, voice threaded with a teasing edge, but there was a softness there, something almost protective, that he quickly masked.
You leaned into him, the movement instinctive, your giggle breaking free as you stumbled slightly. “Oh, please. I’m fine.” you quipped, tilting your head up, your eyes catching his. Without thinking, your hand pressed against his chest, fingers curving around the muscle beneath. You blinked in surprise before watching your brows at him. “Damn, nice boobs.”
His eyes widened for a split second before he threw his head back in a laugh, the sound reverberating through him and into you. “Jesus, Y/N.” He felt the heat rise in his cheeks, an unfamiliar sensation he brushed off with a roll of his eyes. He caught your hand as it lingered, the playfulness replaced for a heartbeat with something charged, before he let it go with a chuckle. “Keep that up, and I’ll start charging for these services.”
“So that one was on the house?” you asked, your grin lopsided, unable to hide how much you were enjoying this rare break in your usual dynamic.
Rafe’s gaze softened for a fleeting moment, the walls you both kept between you forgotten under the haze of laughter and the city lights. “Depends. Will you keep assaulting me?”
The two of you burst out laughing, the sound a contrast with the rather quiet lobby but none of you could care less. For once, none of you were being bothered by the image that you were supposed to keep and the animosity felt like a distant memory, replaced by the sharp realization that maybe pretending wasn’t the hardest part after all.
Once inside the hotel, you both went straight to your hotel rooms. You fumbled for the key cards, sliding one into the door, but the red light blinked mockingly. You tried again, turning the card. Still no luck. Your frustration began to mount as you tried once more, and then again, but the door stubbornly refused to open.
Rafe stood back, watching with a bemused smirk. “Having trouble?”
“Are you serious right now?” you muttered, glaring at the door. “These damn things are broken, I swear.”
“Sure, sure,” Rafe said, his grin widening. “You’re not just the problem, huh?”
You shot him an exaggerated glare but couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up again. “I swear, it’s not my fault.”
“Right.” Rafe teased. “Because nothing is broken when you get involved.”
He glanced over at you, his brow furrowed. “Great.” he muttered, pulling the card out and trying it again, only for the light to flash red, mocking him. He tried once more - still nothing. His expression darkened with frustration.
“Rafe, are you sure you know how to use those?” you teased, leaning against the wall, an amused grin tugging at your lips.
He shot you a half-amused, half-annoyed glance. “I’m not an idiot.” he said, giving the card one last try before slapping it against his palm. “It’s the damn door.”
With a sigh, he turned to the door across from yours - the one that led to his room - and gave it a shot with his card. You leaned in just enough to watch, your curiosity piqued. He slid his card in, turning the handle with the same precision.
Nothing. Again.
“Well, that’s just great!” he muttered, letting out a punch on the door before he . He looked over at you, his expression a mix of disbelief and annoyance.
You snickered softly, crossing your arms. “Looks like we’re both stuck.” you said, your voice laced with teasing. “Are you sure you paid for the rooms, Cameron?”
Rafe shot you a playful glare. “I blame the hotel staff” he replied, rubbing his forehead as if this whole situation were somehow their fault. He shoved the card back into his pocket. “Let’s check the front desk.”
As you both headed toward the elevator, you couldn’t help but notice the faint frustration in his eyes. But there was something else there, too - a glimmer of something you couldn’t quite place. Maybe it was the way he’d been looking at you all night like he was trying to figure you out, or maybe it was just the ridiculousness of the situation.
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The receptionist smiled sympathetically, taking the cards from you and swiping them through the system. You glanced over at Rafe, your eyes landing on his red, bloodshot gaze, and blinked in surprise.
“Damn, dude. What happened to your eyes?” you asked, voice a mix of shock and amusement.
Rafe shot you a side-eyed glance. “Shut up.” He muttered, but there was no hiding the playfulness in his voice.
You paused for a second, a small laugh escaping as your mind quickly connected the dots. “Wait, wait. You’re high as hell, aren’t you?” you teased with a grin, whispering as you thought the receptionist wouldn’t hear but the poor lady did a good job at pretending.
Rafe raised an eyebrow, smirking even more. “You’re real observant one, huh.” he replied dryly, his eyes narrowing as he watched the receptionist typing on the computer, ready to cause a scene.
Just as you were about to keep joking, Rafe suddenly pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of you. You blinked, a little surprised, but he just raised the phone to show you the screen with a smug look on his face.
There, right on the screen, was a close-up of your face – your eyes bloodshot and glowing red.
You froze, staring at it for a moment before your face broke into a laugh. “Oh my god, really?” you said, trying to stifle your giggles.
You leaned in to get a better look at the photo, your own laughter bubbling up. “That’s cute. We’re matching, Cameron!” you joked, raising an eyebrow.
Rafe shook his head, still grinning. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, but there was warmth in his voice.
The receptionist checked the system again, then looked up, a surprised smile on her face. “Actually, I see that your rooms has been upgraded.” she said. “Mr. Rossi made special arrangements for you. You’ll be staying in one of our premium suites, with an incredible coastal view.”
Rafe exchanged a glance with you, both of you processing the unexpected news. "Upgraded?" you repeated, still a little disoriented. "Wow... really?"
The receptionist handed you two new key cards with a smile. “Yes, enjoy your stay. All your luggages and belongings have been transferred already.”
“Guess we’re living the high life now,” Rafe said with a grin, taking the cards from her.
You snorted at his words, still buzzing with laughter. “Yeah, right… Literally.”
You both headed to the elevator, your footsteps light as you approached the suite. As the door opened, you brows shot up. A king-sized bed sat in the center, surrounded by luxurious vintage furniture. The floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a panoramic view of the coast - moonlight glimmering on the water, the soft rumble of the waves reaching your ears.
But then you looked at the bed again, and your stomach sank as everything clicked into place. You slowly turned to face Rafe, wide-eyed.
“Wait… we’re sharing this bed?” you asked, the realization slowly sinking in.
Rafe snorted. “Guess so. Unless you want to sleep on the couch.”
You shook your head quickly. “No, I’m not sleeping on the couch. But how are we going to-?”
“What? Afraid you’ll be tempted?” He arched his brow, a teasing smile on his lips as he already move to his side of the bed, kicking off his shoes.
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I’ll take the bed. You can take the couch.”
“Not a chance.” Rafe cut you off with a raised hand. “I’m not sleeping on the floor either, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
You paused, thinking it over. “Okay, here’s the deal. You take one side, I take the other. No crossing the line, no touching. Agreed?”
Rafe crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’ll agree to those terms, for now.”
The two of you stood there for a long moment, an unspoken tension between you, both looking each other in silence as if in some sort of staring contest.
“Fuck, whatever.” You sighed, running a hand on your hair as you could feel your eyelids too heavy. “I’m too tired for this shit.”
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The soft click of the bathroom door broke the silence as you stepped out, the quiet only punctuated by the steady thrum of your heartbeat. You hesitated, taking a deep breath before moving. The silk ivory nightdress you wore was far too short to be comfortable with someone else in the room. The fabric brushed high on your thighs with each step, and a delicate lace traced the neckline, dipping low enough to tease. A matching robe hung loosely around your shoulders, but it offered little coverage - just the pretense of modesty. You had packed it for the warm weather but you didn’t imagine you’d share a room with him.
You’d taken your time getting ready, hoping that by now, Rafe would be asleep. But as you tiptoed around the bed, trying to slip under the covers unnoticed, the soft click of the lamp switch made you freeze.
Warm light bathed the room, casting shadows that flickered along the walls. You felt his eyes on you, burning with a heat that made the silk on your skin feel even thinner. Rafe was propped up on one elbow, his hand the back of his head and eyes sharper than they should be at this hour. The smirk that curled at the corner of his mouth sent a shiver through you.
He let his gaze travel slowly, unapologetically taking in the way the nightdress hugged your body. The ivory silk clung to your curves, highlighting the bare slope of your shoulders and the length of your legs. The lace skimmed the line of your chest, delicate and inviting. His eyes lingered where the fabric dipped and rose, tracing every detail as if he were memorizing it.
“Couldn’t sleep…” He said, voice low, the tease there but edged with something that made your breath catch. “But I see I might now.”
A nervous laugh escaped you, and you pulled the robe a little tighter, though it did nothing to ease the warmth spreading through you. “I didn’t think you’d still be awake.” you said as if trying to explain yourself, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.
Rafe’s smirk morphed into something deeper, eyes glinting as he pushed himself to sit up, muscles flexing under the thin cotton of his shirt and you’d never admit your gaze wandering to the contour of his muscles. “With you bringing the bathroom down? Not a chance.” He paused, the humor giving way to a quieter, more intense look. “You know, you don’t have to hide.” he said, nodding toward the robe that you tightly wrapped around you as you were almost curling on yourself.
Your fingers hesitated on the fabric, heart pounding as his words settled between you. The buzz from earlier, the laughter and sharp words, had dulled into a warmth that made your skin tingle. Still clouded with the weed and the drinks, you take a deep breath and take off the robe, quickly sliding under the covers and pulling it up your chest.
“If you’re trying to make peace between us,” he murmured, eyes darkening as they met yours. “this is a damn good way to start.” The playful lilt in his voice didn’t quite mask the heat simmering beneath it.
You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your lips lifted. “I thought the blunt of peace was already shared.” you said, voice soft but daring. The tension between you crackled, unspoken and electric.
Rafe’s eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as he exhaled slowly. “Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, the word low and rough, like it slipped out without permission. He dragged a hand through his face, eyes looking to the ceiling as his head hang back before he shifted, grabbing a pillow and placing it firmly between you on the bed, quickly turning off the lamp.
“Good night, trouble” he said, the nickname rolling off his tongue with a mix of teasing and resignation, as if trying to convince himself more than you.
The corner of your mouth lifted, heart still racing as you pulled the sheets over you. “Good night, idiot.” you whispered back, the space between you feeling smaller than ever, despite the pillow.
The room settled into silence, but the tension hummed beneath it, making sleep a distant thought.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆
TAGLIST: @megiiite @melsunshine @maybankslover @wearemadeofstardust0 @lilithblackkk @slutforoldermen @louxmcl @peter-parkers-gf @yootvi @v4mp1rr3
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specsthesecond · 1 day ago
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°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°
You wake up in the comfort of your home, snuggled in thick fluffy sheets. Despite the cold, birds still chirp outside advising you to start your day already. You stay in bed a little longer today, staring out the window, trying to get a hold of your thoughts.
It's been a good few days since you left that Orcs house, a few days to think about the experience and mull over what to do next.
You jolt out of your thoughts when you see, out the window, quick anxious scampering behind the snow covered bushes. Jumping out of bed, you hastily get dressed, fumbling with your boots and grabbing your trusty bow hanging by the door and a few arrows. You peek outside, sneaking as quietly as possible on the old wooden floor of the stoop, arrow already notched against the bowstring. You can only see the critters ears, twitching, listening for any trouble. It's either a rabbit or a hare, you hope for the latter.
You wait there for a good fifteen minutes, bow strung, waiting for the thing to move just a little to the left of the bush for a better shot. Your fingers burn on the string, didn't have time to grab your gloves. The second it hops slightly out of the bush, you let go of the arrow and send it flying right into the cotton tailed critter.
When you step back inside your warm cottage, you make a beeline for the kitchen with the hare in your hand. It's quite a lucky catch, a large jack. You use this as an excuse, you actually come up with plenty excuses while you prepare a hearty stew. "There's so much meat here, it would be wrong not to share." "If I don't repay him, it'll weigh on me for far too long." "I need to bring him his flask back." "I need a good hike anyway."
Stupid rationales for the absurd idea you have conjured up. Nevertheless, you get out your fanciest ceramic pot and cook your best hare stew. You fret, far more than you'd admit, over how little ingredients you have due to the winter. Come afternoon, and you're trekking the woods, past the Human territory and into unwelcomed lands. You clutch the handle of the basket holding your steaming pot of stew tightly inside and his flask, which you filled with your favourite Red bush tea. This is just so you're even and then you never have to think about this Orc ever again.
Somewhere in your mind you know that's not true, You'll never be able to forget what happened. You were content in your woods, pretending you weren't lonely, why has this Orc changed that? It was easy pushing the cravings down before why is the hunger suddenly so present, so consuming.
You eventually step into the clearing where his home lies, Your thoughts continue to meander as your feet take you straight to the steps into his home. Now, you can't just leave it out for him but you can't just knock on the door and run away either...
You knock on the door three times, taking a deep breath and then cursing yourself for needing to do that. What if he doesn't want to see you again? Sure, he saved you from dying but that doesn't mean he'd want you in his home ag-
The door opens slowly, it takes you a minute to look up from the stone floor of the small veranda but when you do, it's those same dark brown eyes looking back at you. He looks shocked to see you, you expected as much. After a few awkward moments of staring, you hold the basket up with both hands, opening the top to reveal the red ceramic pot and his flask. He looks down at the parcel with a rather blank expression and it makes your skin crawl with anxiety. You gesture for him to take the basket and he quickly, with frustratingly gentle hands, takes it from you. He takes a peek inside the pot, letting the built-up steam poor out and his eyes grow even wider, you can't tell if he likes it or not and it's killing you.
Of course he didn't want to see you. The last time you were together he woke up to you, a stranger, on top of him watching him sleep! Your face is hot with shame, you turn to leave but then hear him say something in Orcish, you turn around to face him. You're a little taken back to see the hopeful look in his eyes as he holds the door open for you, waiting for you to accept his invitation.
Timidly, you step inside. Being here again sends a shiver down your spine. The Orc gently rests the basket on his little (in comparison to him) living room table, then heads to the kitchen. He comes back with a tray of two bowls, two mugs and cutlery. It shocks you how easily you take his silent invitation to stay for dinner as you both set the table as if it's a normal thing for basically strangers to do. While he dishes up hearty portions of steamy stew in rather large bowls, you pour the red tinted tea into the two mugs he brought.
You sit down on opposite sides of the wooden table and dig in. The spoon, like the bowl, is rather big and made out of what appears to be a hard dark wood. As you taste your stew, doubts trickle into your mind. Is it too runny? Is the meat too tough? Do Orcs prefer tougher meat? Is it too bland for him?
The scrape of his chair on the floor interrupts your thoughts and you look up at him. He's scooping up more stew with the serving spoon and plopping it into his empty bowl. You stare at him bewildered, he's already going for seconds. How did he even swallow all that so fast?
He notices you staring and looks embarrassed, like he's done something wrong. You shake your head lightly and gesture for him to continue. He smiles rather bashfully for an Orc and plops another spoon full onto his heaped bowl. You hide the smile that creeps onto your face behind a hot mug of tea.
After the pot has been thoroughly emptied and your stomachs are full, he starts clearing up his side of the table. You go to follow but he swiftly takes your bowl from you, sets it on the tray with everything else and walks off to the kitchen. For a second you sit rather dumbly at the empty table, the sound of splashing water comes from the kitchen as you look around the Orc's abode.
Your eyes are drawn to a packed bookshelf in the corner, you try not to be that impressed that an Orc would willingly read so many books. You imagine you would be pretty insulted if someone said that about you, and you know full well that reading is a lovely way to pass the time in such a quiet life as yours and his.
He steps back into the room holding two mugs of what was left of the tea, you suppose that means he likes it? He places them on the small table in front of the couch and takes a seat. He doesn't show any indication that he expects you to sit with him but you find yourself sinking down next to him anyway.
He picks up a little book on the low table and pages through it, it's green with bold Orcish on the front. You try to seem uninterested with what he's doing, staring down at your tea until he shuffles closer to you, pointing to a specific page in the book. You scrunch your eyebrows and lean closer, reading the text he's pointing to.
"Thank you."
Your breath catches and you read further down the page, seeing bold Orcish words followed by Human Common words.
It's a translation book.
You laugh (more like wheeze) in surprise and disbelief. The Orc looks nervous, looking back at the book to make sure he pointed to the right word. You gently take the book from him and page through it, searching.
After quite a while you finally find it, in what you assume is the "Helpful phrases" section and point it out for him.
"You're welcome."
He lets out a hearty laugh and you grin at the sound. You made him laugh. His eyes crinkle, deepening the crows feet just above his cheeks which seem a darker green than before.
After that you sit together in quiet comfort, drinking the rest of your tea and peeking at the words in his book as he pages through the translations. The book is new, the spine isn't creased from use and the pages are still firm and fresh. Did he get this book because of you?
The thought stirs something strange in your belly and you can't tell if you should invite it in or reject it. Your eyes shift to the window near the door and you jump when you see the sun is setting. How has it been that long?
You rise from the couch and grab your basket, shoving your now clean ceramic pot into it. The Orc looks at you confused, looks towards the window, and then shoots up himself, quickly heading to the kitchen. You shrug your fur coat on at the door and wait patiently for him to return, basket in hand.
He returns with the same flask he gave you the last time you left in a hurry. He may be even more bashful this time he hands it to you and you don't need to open it to know what's inside. You nod your head again in thanks and he smiles wider than you'd think an Orc capable, if you hadn't met him, that is.
You walk out of his house, flask tucked in your basket. When you reach the end of the clearing you turn around and there he is, standing on the veranda watching you leave. You hesitate for a moment and then give him a little wave goodbye. He returns it with his own.
As you walk through thick trees you wonder if the nearby human village has a book vendor. Not for any particular reason.
°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:・°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:・°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:・°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:・°
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archangeldyke-all · 2 days ago
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Based off part one that just got released…
Sevika coming home with Jinx and isha because they have no where to stay and she’s not very happy about it but, you welcome them home with open arms and you guys kinda have a little family dynamic going on
-💌
CUTE
men and minors dni
it's a little awkward when sevika comes tumbling through your front door with two kids in tow... only because you were waiting for her on the couch in lingerie.
sevika gasps, jinx starts to cackle, and the little kid holding onto jinx's back just waves at you, too young to know what they just walked in on.
sevika sprints to your side, an excited glimmer in her eyes as she licks her lips and gets a good look at you, before she covers you up in her poncho. jinx is still laughing in the doorway when you're finally clothed.
"hey, jinx." you greet, rubbing your neck in embarrassment. jinx snorts and waves at you. "w-who's your friend?" you ask, pointing to the kid on her back.
sevika groans next to you, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. jinx sighs, but you can see the affection buried just below the surface what she speaks. "tell 'er, kid." she says, nudging the girl.
"h-hi." the baby whispers, waving at you. "'m isha." she says.
you grin, stepping forward to wave back at isha. fuck she's cute, her big gold eyes glimmering with excitement as you approach her. "well, ms. isha. it looks like you got my girls into some trouble." you say.
isha giggles and jinx smirks a bit. you've always had a soft spot for jinx, and lately, it seems like sevika's been feeling the same. if there's one thing sevika knows about it's losing a father figure-- she couldn't stop herself from lending a helping hand to the teen.
so: jinx has been over for a lot of dinners lately, crashing on the couch once or twice a week, using your bath on occasion and, sometimes, coming over just to chat.
"we got inna fight!" isha announces, wiggling a bit on jinx's back. you quickly shoot a glare at sevika and she rolls her eyes.
"you did!? did you win?" you ask. isha nods enthuastically, her little miners' hat clattering to the ground.
"i shot a gun!" she says.
"you what!?" you ask, glaring at jinx and sevika. both of them wear the same exasperated look on their faces, sevika raising her flesh arm in surrender.
"she didn't. she held a gun. stupidly. i told you to stay on the fuckin' balcony." sevika says, glaring at isha. the girl pouts, and jinx clicks her tongue.
"oh please. i heard the stories about you as a kid, sevika." jinx says. "it's not like i was any better." she mumbles.
you sigh and tug jinx into your home, leading her and isha to the couch. "c'mon. the couch is a pull out, i'm sure both of you can fit."
"what!? no-- isha's not-- we're not-- i'm fine!" jinx insists. you and sevika both snort, and jinx grunts and rolls her eyes. "fine, whatever. we'll stay... but only if you make that stir fry shit again." jinx relents, settling isha down on the couch before flopping down on it herself.
isha immediately crawls into jinx's lap, starting to fiddle with her bangs. sevika moves to start helping you in the kitchen, and when jinx thinks there's no one left to see, she leans forward and kisses isha's forehead, smiling softly.
"so... you just gonna keep bringing home strays?" you tease in the kitchen, hip checking sevika as you spark the stove. she groans.
"oh, fuck off. you know you're thrilled to play family."
"'course i am. you're a hot mom babe. what'd jinx call it? a milf?" you ask. sevika snorts despite herself, shaking her head in amusement. "next time you two get into some shit though, you're leaving the kid with me, understand?"
sevika chuckles and kisses your cheek. "whatever you say, mama bear... we should probably start keeping the sexy-clothes limited to the bedroom, too."
you groan and elbow your wife. sevika just cackles.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette
@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp
@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen
@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke
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schemmentigfs · 2 days ago
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Sweetening The Deal. (part 2.)
Summary: Melissa finds out more about your tough reality and the deal between you continues, bringing the stability you needed. Meanwhile, she proposes something unexpected.
Tags: @italianaidiota @lisaannwaltersbra @greencurlyhair
Part 1.
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Two weeks had passed since that night at La Sirena, and things had fallen into a rhythm — or as close to a rhythm as you could get with Melissa Schemmenti calling the shots. You’d met her twice since then, at the same restaurant, each time sitting across from her as she set the terms of your arrangement with that same intensity in her eyes. True to her word, she’d sent over an envelope of cash every week, enough to cover your rent and leave you with some breathing room. But there was still a distance between the two of you, a formality that you held onto as a reminder to keep things strictly business.
Her texts came at unpredictable times, always short but direct, and she’d even called you once, her voice teasing yet unmistakably firm. You could tell she liked control and was meticulous in keeping things on her terms. She didn’t ask questions about your day-to-day life, but you had a feeling she saw more than you were letting on.
Then, one afternoon, her name lit up your screen again:
You’re home, right? Text me your address. I want to see where and in what conditions you live, darling.
You froze. Her messages always carried a certain finality, a tone that made it clear you weren’t to question her decisions. The text felt like a verdict, not a suggestion. You had no choice but to obey, but still you’d tired to stalled with vague excuses, insisting it wasn’t necessary, but she was having none of it.
Are you sure about this? My apartment complex is not in the best condition. Maybe we could meet another day? you quickly typed back, nerves prickling.
Honey, I’ll come by tonight after my meeting, she’d texted, with that self-assured tone that didn’t leave much room for debate. Just make sure the place is unlocked for me. Okay?
You swallowed hard. You couldn’t even remember the last time you felt so out of control. Fuck this situation, you were never out of control. Melissa Schemmenti was doing things to you that seemed to awaken a submissive side of yourself that you didn’t even know you had.
Reluctantly, you agreed. Understood. I’m waiting for you, just please don’t notice the mess in the apartment. It’s a little old.
The redhead’s response made you choke on your own saliva. Good girl, see? You can follow orders when you are supposed to. And about the mess, don’t you worry. I just want to see what I'm dealing with, Y/N.
Her words make your stomach flip, and your cheeks flush. She knows exactly the effect she has on you, even from behind a fucking screen. You’re not sure if it’s the blunt command or the way she casually assumes you’ll fall in line, but something about her confidence, her control, always leaves you breathless.
You tossed your phone on the bed and groaned, throwing yourself backward onto the mattress, the soft scent of stale air and clutter filling the room. It wasn’t much of a space, and you weren’t exactly proud of it, but it was yours. Still, it felt too small when you thought about her. When you thought about how she was used to finer things, and this place... well, this place felt like a damn joke.
Two weeks. Only two weeks have passed since that night, but already, she’s gotten under your skin in ways you can’t shake. Her presence in your life feels constant, grounding, and somehow.... electrifying. It’s like she’s rewired you to respond to her — one word from her and you’re falling into place, waiting for whatever she asks next.
Another text pops up. I’m arriving at five. You better be prepared, beautiful.
Great, you only got two hours left.
You spent hours trying to make your tiny apartment look presentable, straightening up, hiding the chipped paint on the walls with old posters, and dimming the lights to make it seem warmer. You stopped in front of the mirror checking if your appearance was alright. You’d tossed a pile of laundry into the closet, stacked dishes haphazardly, and even dabbed on a bit of makeup in a rush. But no matter what you did, there was no hiding the worn-out furniture.
And as you stood in your cramped kitchen, waiting for her to arrive, you couldn’t help feeling out of place, like this wasn’t where she belonged.
“Fuck, fuck,” you rubbed your eyes with your hands. “I’m fucked. What will she think of me?”
A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door, and your stomach twisted with nerves and sicknesses. When you opened it, there she was—Melissa Schemmenti, cool and collected in an all-black outfit, and a ponytail, her sleek black sunglasses pushing her authority to another level. She took her giant and expensive sunglasses off as she surveyed the space, her gaze moving slowly over the cracked walls and mismatched furniture. Her expression barely shifted, but you could sense the judgment simmering beneath the surface.
The building smelled like old wood and dust, and the hallways felt narrower than they ever had before. You hated the way your surroundings felt — the peeling wallpaper, the noisy neighbors, the ever-present sense of grime that seemed to coat every surface. It was humiliating, honestly, but you couldn’t escape it.
Melissa didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she didn’t actually care. She walked past you, her red louboutin heels clicking against the wooden floor, and into your tiny apartment without hesitation.
“Well, this is…” the redhead paused, taking a long look around. “...quite the environment.” Her raspy voice was cold, but it wasn’t supposed to sound mean and teasing. It was just blunt, like she was simply stating a fact. You winced, standing awkwardly by the door as she took in the dismal conditions.
“I don’t usually bring people here,” you mumbled, feeling your face flush. “It’s just temporary. Until I find a new job that pays more. I’m looking for something better.”
Melissa ignored your excuse and walked further into the apartment, her green eyes scanning every inch of the cramped space with calculated precision. Her black sunglasses hung loosely from the collar of her shirt, disguising the cleavage that seemed to jump and have a life of its own. What? Focus, your asshole! It’s not appropriate to watch her boobs. Oh, boy, you felt like a child under her scrutiny.
“So,” she quips, knowing the answer is obvious, “This is where you live, pretty girl?”
You rubbed the back of your neck, touching the small amount of baby hair. Your cheeks were heating with embarrassment. “Mmm...it’s not exactly glamorous, but it’s affordable.”
“If you call this affordable...” She scrunches her nose, feeling the smell of something dirty.
You took a shaky breath, feeling the heaviness of her gaze, as she leaned back slightly, crossing her arms in that familiar way that told you she was completely in control. She hadn’t even removed her jacket, and already it felt like she had rearranged the whole atmosphere of the place. As if she were shifting you and your life by sheer will alone.
“This,” the older woman said, lifting one of the crumpled bills, her tone cool and unyielding, “is unacceptable. You’re moving out. And I don’t want to hear a single word against it.”
“Wait, what?” you widen your eyes.
“So here’s how it’s going to work. You’re moving. I’ve already picked out a place for you in a decent neighborhood, and you’ll have what you need there. None of this…” She gestured around your small apartment with a mild look of disdain. “…dumpster shit situation. You’ll have a clean space, safe, without worrying about rent or broken pipes. And I don’t want to hear a single word against it.”
You opened your mouth, heart racing, wanting to protest. “Ma’am, I don’t need—”
Before you could finish, she closed the space between you, her manicured hand gripping your chin in a way that was both commanding and unsettlingly gentle. Her thumb brushed your cheek as her eyes bored into yours, making your stomach flip. “I said no arguments. You’re better than this place, honey. Now call your boss.”
You blinked, flustered, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks as her fingers stayed firm on your chin. She tilted her head, her gaze unrelenting, and you found yourself swallowing hard, nerves prickling. A gush of wetness dripped into your underwear. That felt good. And for a split second, you imagined how her fingers would feel around your neck. Or maybe somewhere else..
The truth was that you weren’t used to someone like Melissa—someone who didn’t just ask but demanded, without hesitation, and with an absolute certainty that her wishes would be met.
“Go on,” the redhead prompted, pulling her phone from her bag and pressing it into your hand. “This ends now.”
“Schemmenti,” you sigh quietly. “I..can’t.”
“Call. Your. Fucking. Boss.” Her words came out slower this time, her voice both reassuring and intimidating, the kind of authority that was impossible to ignore.
Your hands trembled as you reached for your phone, scrolling to your boss’s number. She kept her hold on your chin for a moment longer before releasing you, her green eyes watching every movement with quiet satisfaction. The reality of what you were about to do started to sink in, and you felt like you were on the verge of spiraling, like you were teetering on the edge of something irreversible.
As the phone rang, you stole a glance at Melissa. She leaned against the counter, arms crossed, exuding a calm authority that both irritated and reassured you. You had to admit—no one had ever looked at you the way she did. Like she was willing to strip away everything if it meant giving you something better. But even as you stumbled through your brief conversation with your boss, quitting the job you’d held for far too long, a flicker of rebellion rose in you.
“What if I don’t want to move?” you managed once the call ended, a spark of defiance in your voice. You could see the hint of a smirk playing on her lips.
She lifted an eyebrow, that smirk intensifying. “You’re cute when you act tough,” she said, brushing past you to examine a stack of books on a rickety shelf. The dust covering her fingertips. “But I’m not interested in games. I’m giving you a choice. You can either stay here, or you can let me take care of you. But you can’t have it both ways.”
You wanted to argue, to fight her on it, but your lips trembled with uncertainty. “But, I... I can’t just leave. This place—it’s all I have. I—”
The redhead stepped closer, green eyes flashing with a rare, intense frustration. “You think this is optional?” she yelled sharply through the small space, leaving no room for doubt. “I’m doing this for you, and if you can’t accept that, maybe we’re done here. You either take my help, or this arrangement is over.”
Your heart dropped, and a pang of desperation flared up inside you. The last thing you wanted was for her to walk out and leave you standing there, with only the smell of her perfume lingering behind. You felt your knees buckle, and before you knew it, you were on the floor, clutching at her sleeve, gazing up at her in pleading silence.
“Please,” you whispered. “Don’t go. Don’t end this.”
Her lips quirked into a dark smile, her eyes traveling slowly down to where you knelt before her. “Already on your knees for mommy? Maybe you’re finally learning.”
The heat in her eyes made your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and yet, some part of you thrilled at her approval, that faint but undeniable satisfaction in her body language.
You swallowed hard, feeling her fingers brush over your cheek as if savoring your quiet submission, and your pulse raced. She stepped back and tilted her head toward the door, her expression softening just a little. “Now get up. You’re coming with me tonight.”
You blinked, surprised. “Where?”
“To my place,” she said, her tone decisive. “No sense in staying here another night. You’ll see what it’s like to live somewhere better.”
Nervously, you gathered your things, feeling a strange thrill at the idea of seeing her home, even as the reality of this shift in your life sunk in. In a blur, you found yourself in her sleek, black car, barely speaking as she drove. And when you finally stepped into the garage of her penthouse, it felt like you’d entered another world—one of order, elegance, and effortless luxury, all touched with her unmistakable presence.
You couldn’t believe this was where you were spending the night, and the thought made your heart pound with nervous excitement. Even in this new space, with her watching you, you still felt that familiar mix of shyness and thrill.
Melissa’s penthouse was everything your cramped apartment wasn’t: sleek, spacious, and expensive. The moment you stepped inside, you felt a little like you’d walked into a magazine spread, the kind of place you’d only ever imagined for people like her. Everything was polished marble and soft, warm lighting, a quiet sense of power and control in every line and surface. It was so distinctly her—refined, commanding, even a little intimidating. You couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place, no matter how much she’d insisted on bringing you here.
“Make yourself at home,” she said, dropping her keys onto a side table. She gestured to a hallway on your right. “The bathroom is down there. You can get cleaned up before dinner if you want.”
Grateful for a moment to compose yourself, you headed to the bathroom, which was easily twice the size of your entire apartment. After freshening up, you found an oversized shirt on your backpack that you had prepared for you earlier.
Dinner was surprisingly casual. She’d ordered from a high-end Chinese place nearby, and as you both sat at the table, she poured you a glass of wine, studying you with a cute smile that made your stomach flutter. She was still very much in control, still the same assertive woman who’d marched into your life two weeks ago and decided she was going to change it. And yet, tonight, there was a gentler side to her. She asked you about things you’d never thought she cared to know, small details about your life and tastes, and for once, you felt like she was letting you into her world.
After dinner, she led you to the guest bedroom where you’d be staying. It was just as lavish as the rest of her home, with an enormous bed, plush sheets, and a view of the city lights twinkling against the night sky. You took a moment to freshen up again, glancing at yourself in the mirror and smoothing down your hair, wondering if she’d think you looked good enough for her standards.
Then, on your way to find her again, you noticed the door to her room was ajar. You knew you shouldn’t, but curiosity got the best of you, and you peeked in. There she was, her back to you, undressing in the dim light. You couldn’t help but stare for a moment, taking in the lean, defined muscles of her back, the soft curves that hinted at a life of both strength and indulgence. Her skin was pale, smooth, and there was something undeniably mesmerizing about the way she moved, graceful and unhurried, like she knew exactly who she was and didn’t care who saw it.
And then, there was her…you couldn’t help but notice it, a part of her you hadn’t seen before, and your cheeks warmed as you realized you were staring into her pale ass. You felt a pang of embarrassment, quickly averting your eyes and stepping away before she could catch you. You’d never imagined she’d have that kind of effect on you, making you feel like some bashful kid with just a glimpse of her body.
Even though you’d only seen her for a second, your mind replayed the image of her exposed skin—her back, her pale ass—again and again. You were flushed, still unsure of what it all meant, or why your heart raced at the thought of what you'd just witnessed. It was almost like you were crossing some invisible line in your head, and it scared you.
You quickly shook your head, clearing your thoughts, and made your way back toward the living room, trying to avoid thinking about what you’d just seen. Melissa, however, never knew. She didn’t even acknowledge it when you rejoined her in the main area, as if nothing had happened. The nonchalance with which she moved, made your thoughts scatter once more.
Later that night, she kissed you goodnight, but it wasn’t like the kisses before. This one, lingering, almost brushing your lips, made your heart jump in your chest. The redhead woman didn’t pull away immediately, letting the moment stretch just a little longer than usual. You stood there, stunned, your breath shaky as she pulled back, leaving you with an almost electric buzz in your body.
Green eyes met yours, cool but somehow warm at the same time. “Sleep well, sweetheart. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Melissa.”
You couldn’t quite breathe properly as she turned, walking back toward her room, leaving you alone to process what had just happened. Your brain was spinning, unsure of what you were getting yourself into, but you knew one thing for sure. You were already in too deep to turn back.
And as you lay down in the guest bedroom, your body still warm from the kiss, the image of her naked skin lingered in your mind, both haunting and thrilling you in equal measure.
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deadbeatblog · 18 hours ago
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the batkids finds a box with shitton of VHS so they plug them in and to their surprise is just a bunch of Christmases,birthdays,graduations, party's,etc that Bruce recorded
the first one is dicks 10 birthday (none of this is chronological or anything I'm making shit up as I want)the camera quality was shit all grainy,it was in the manor and part of the league were there and Donna,Roy,wally,Garth are there with their mentors plus superman and the gordons and there's like this cheesy decoration and theres gifts bags for the kids and ice cream and I'm thinking dick is going to have a mj obsession so all of micheal Jackson's songs are playing on the background and the kids are all trying to do the beat it dance
then there's a shot of Dickies small kid face covered in cake and ice cream and he looks gross,off camera a voice says (Bruce) "you're liking your party lad?" his voice is so soft and young and so dad "yeS! thank you Bruce this is the best party ever!!" and he goes away running to superman,he looks young too, mullet and all as he catches Dickie laughing. the video ends, the next tape rolls
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It's Christmas,it seems like Bruce is hiding while he records, the tv is on, "can't touch this" is playing and a young Jason Todd is clumsily trying to do the dance, you can hear Bruce's giggles as he watches the kid, he stops hiding and enters the room, Jason looks at him,his smile wide "look! dad look! I'm doing it!!" he isn't doing it but Bruce claps anyways "good job Jaylad!! you look just like hammer!" Jason squeaks, the video ends.
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this time tim is on view,he's in the cave doing his homework on the floor, he looks like he's 13-15 at least all sparred on baggy jeans and a too big shirt,this was from a digital camera very clearly, the quality much better, on a monitor of the batcomputer, Britney spears was singing,he was humming along softly, Bruce made his presence clear Clark In front of him with a cake, singing softly "happy birthday to you....happy birthday to you.... happy birthday dear Timmy,happy birthday to you" Tim looked back a bit shocked before smiling wide,his braces all clear for the camera
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next tape was toddler damian bouncing and clapping while watching toy story 3 bruce giggling as he danced, "dami,dami, I love youu" his voice was so incredibly soft "I uv yu" Bruce awed as baby damian talked, all chubby limbs and big green eyes,"Dami papa loves you" bruce keep repeating and he keep getting i love yous back when a new set of footsteps interrupted him "hey sugar" clarks midwester accent break through the quiet ambience "hey you" Bruce focused the camera on him "got anything to say to your baby?" Bruce asked humourous,Clark had a tiny baby strapped to his chest ,Damian squeaked loudly getting Bruce's attention back on him "I'm here baby no need to spit" Clark laughed and the video ended
they watched the black screen for a while, it was heartwarming in a way,dick no longer danced thriller on Halloween with his friends, Jason no longer tried to copy vanilla ice, tim no longer had a fringe or a myspace account and Damian was no longer a baby. Bruce was getting older and older and the only thing left of those days were these videos.
the complication of videos grows bigger and bigger with dukes graduation,Cass first recital, Barbara's wedding, Steph's birthday, and eventually they found two curious videos
one was marked "olly,lexie and brucie 72" and the other "happy together 81", turns out lex Luther not only had a beautiful head of red locks but he also had a complete disco choreography with oliver queen and bruce wayne for their graduation, Bruce had the most adorable crooked teeth and straight nose,he really changed with none of his original teeth and multiple rhinoplasties.
the other one was a short video of Bruce combing his hair, humming softly until he caughts the cameraman, he turns with a smile " if we're late for your fault I'm going to be so pissed" the cameraman laughed warmly, "I just have to get my shoes on, I'm waiting for you,it's been an hour you don't need to comb that much" Clarks voice bombed through the speakers "it's my wedding Clark,of course I have to comb that much","you know I love your hair no matter how it is" Bruce pouted and turned pissed, going to the bathroom "Bruce please, don't get pissed" the video ended.
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simpingforbots · 1 day ago
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What if human ended up in Transfromers one
part 5 final
Megatron
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D-16 was sure that Orion Pax was a horrible influence on you. You started getting in to much more trouble – you started sneaking around much more, sometimes joining Orion, running amok the miners quarters, getting all sort of unwanted attention from other bots, even if it was a good one. He was more worried that you will be seen by Darkwing and get killed. He already had enough headache with Orion shenanigans, so he had to create sort of pen for you, filled with soft material he could find, there was food and water. Most of times he would put you in there when ever you misbehaved, even if you brought him Megatronus merchandise, covering his entire charging station in his decals. But mostly he kept you there when ever he had to leave. So imagine his shock to see you sneak in to medbay after the race, running towards him. He wanted to scold you for getting out and was about to yell at you to go back, yet before he could someone’s loud footsteps alerted him and you, sending you in to hiding. After every thing and them being thrown in to 50’th sublevel, he was ready to punch Orion for getting them in this situation when your yells alerted him and he watched you fall out of the shut on conveyer belt. He managed to grab you in time before you would’ve ended up in a fire pit due to you being almost unconscious, alive but shaken. He held you close to his chest, checking on you while trying to process every thing that just happened at once. He was not ready for any thing else.
Well climbing up the trash shut with you clinging to him was not something he expected to happen, it was hard to climb with all the trash falling down. Once they were out and managed to sneak on train, he let out a sigh of relief, but not for long. One thing lead to another and they were stranded on the surface. You were covered in scrapes and bruises making D-16 worry even more, going over the board. If only you stayed in the damn pen non of this would happen to you. He kept you in arms length, literally, holding your hand like some sparkling and when you grew tiered of walking he would carry you under his arm. When they finally reached the spot, revived Alpha Trion and learned the truth about false Prime, about quintessons and what Sentinel – he was angry.  He wanted to kill the false Prime, openly and loudly voicing his concerned, echoing though the cave system as he let all the frustration out.  But when he saw you hiding behind Elita’s ped, his spark broke in half. Why were you scared of him? He did not mean for you to be scared, but before he can try and sooth you, Alpha Trion showed them out and they had to run away from other bot’s, learning how to transform, and all this time you were in danger. He tried to grab you, but the awkwardness of situation was to hard to control and you were momenteraly out of his site, problbay landing on the ground with others. After he managed to transform in to tank, he rolled forward and just in time as one of Sentinels death-guards was about to shoot you. All the rage bubble in him and he shot first, claiming the first life ever. He transform back in to his mech form, rushing towards you scooping up to check on  you. You looked alright, maybe a few more scratches but alright. And somehow you were even smaller. Now he was able to easily wrap just one hand around your torso unlike before, where he had to use both hand just to lift you and you were so small now, no bigger then his leg. He presed you to his chest relieved to see you alive and then took over the leadin of the group. You had to ride on top of him during the return and one thing lead to another and now you were presented as some kind of trophy for false Prime, locked in a gold cage and floating above the ground on a stage pad. D-16 was constantly looking between you and Sentinel, boiling with anger and refusing to stay on his knees, even after being “embraided”. He wanted this bot dead, not matter what. And when he was finally free and Sentinel on the ground, unable to defend him self, he shot, shooting Orion by accident. All sort of emotion flooded in. But one that was strong was exhaustion. He was tiered of constantly saving Orion. He was the reason they were in this situation, he was the reason you were hurt. So he won’t save him any more. He did not care about your cries as Orion fell down, he quickly and painfully dealt with Sentinel, ripping him un half in front of the crowed and claimed his new name – Megatron. And a new T-cog, that gave him even more height. He fired at statues, sending you hiding in some crevice. His red eyes quickly shifted to your hiding spot. Oh, now you decide to hide, after all the trouble you got your self in to? Hilarious. He loudly thumped towards your hiding spot, kneeling down and peaking in all while other caused mayhem around. You were there, deep in the hole, curled and staring at him with wide eyes, shaking from loud noise. He growled with dissatisfaction, immideatly trying his best to get you out of there. His servos dig around, digits trying to wrap around any part pf your body, and after some time he manages to get you out. Primes, you become even smaller, but now he does not care. Or has time as he immideatly get his face punched by rejuvenated Orion. They fight and in the end he is banished from Iacon and you hid behind Prime. Megatron, grumbling walked past him.
“Pet” he looked at you from behind, turning his head slightly so that he can see you, his red eyes glowing brightly. You stood by Optimus. “ come.” You shook your head, to scared to go any wear near the bot who just strated killing bots left and right . it angered him very much. He turned around, rage boiling in his chest as his loud voice echoed though entire Iacon “NOW!” You jumped in your skin, hiding behind Optimus. He left with a grumble and a promise that he will come back for you.
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lostintransist · 3 days ago
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Fallen Angel | Sweet Girl
Simon’s teammates began to show up more and more in your everyday life. They didn’t just come for kisses either. Kyle began to drag you to a new coffee shop every time he came back to town. He would pay despite your instance to cover the drinks at least some of the time. He loved to talk books with you.
He introduced you to his favorite used bookstore, a magical place that seemed to go on forever. In the back of the building, he showed you a narrow staircase and enticed you to follow him down. What you found was a dim, but not dusty basement. Shelves with flopped over books and copies of National Geographic from 1920, still with the classic yellow border, dotted the space. The basement seemed to run the length of the deep building.
At one point Kyle slipped from view as you stepped into a concrete room taller than you by at least twice. When you turn around, he had disappeared. Starting to panic you focused on working your way back through the dim to the staircase.
You made a horror movie actress proud when two hands shot out of the dark to grab you. Kyle laughs as he pulls you close, dropping a kiss on your hair. He apologizes repeatedly when you start to cry.
“Fuck, I hate scary things, Kyle,” you push away from his chest.
He does not let go. Fucker uses all those muscles to keep you tight to him as he rocks back and forth and apologizes again.
“I’m so, so sorry sweet girl. I won’t do it again. Now I know that scary movies and haunted houses are out of the picture.”
“Better fucking not be in the picture. Scary movies are fine if I can laugh through them, but absolutely no haunted house. I refuse to almost catch another case,” when you pull back from his hold you pat the tear stains on his chest. Mementos to remind him not to do it again.
“You almost caught a case from a haunted house?” Kyle looks both disturbed and intrigued.
“You see, haunt actors don’t like getting hit. I mean, fair, I don’t either. I had a bad ex that dragged me to one, despite repeatedly telling him not to do it. He left me in the haunted house, and I punched out of fear. They pulled me out the side and I got stuck in the manager’s office until the police could come and sort everything out. Broke up with that bastard and caught a ride home from the officer.”
Kyle looks more and more concerned for you the longer you go on.
“But you went to a scary movie with Roach?” He sputters.
“First off we laughed through that whole movie and when the scary bits did happen he let me hide in his shoulder.” You stick a finger in his face, “And secondly why do all of you call him such a mean name? I don’t get it! Gary is a perfectly good name.”
Kyle leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of the finger you pointed at him with. You glower at him.
“It’s not a mean name sweet girl. Gary has made it out of so many impossible situations people started calling him Roach, because he’s damn near unkillable. That man could have a building dropped on him and only come out with a broken collar bone. It’s a sign of respect that he has a call sign.”
“Fine,” you narrow your eyes at him, “But I will still be calling him Gary. I don’t like bugs. Is that why all the guys call you Gaz?”
“Yep, and why Johnny is called Soap, and Simon goes by Ghost. Well, Simon goes by Ghost for a lot of reasons but a call sign is one of them.”
Wiping your hand over your face once more to remove any leftover fear you hold out your other one to Kyle.
“I feel like you owe me for making me cry.”
He takes it, sliding his fingers between yours.
“How about I buy you a book?” He cajoles.
Narrowing your eyes at him as you follow him out of the dark you counter.
“How about three?”
“Make it two and you have yourself a deal,” he tossed back a devastating smile.
“Fine. You are forgiven.”
Using your interlaced fingers Kyle pulled you close dropping a kiss on your lips.
“Good, would hate to have you mad at me, sweet girl.”
You didn’t know how to feel about the pet name but let it ride for now.
Fallen Angel Masterlist | Masterlist
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thebibliophilevigilante · 2 days ago
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A sigh of relief caused Jason’s chest to heave as his arms tightened around Madison. It was short-lived, however. Her hand had found its way onto his thigh, causing his breath to hitch. When she started rubbing it, he had to look anywhere but her, trying to keep her soothed while remaining relaxed himself. He didn’t want to have an…unfortunate situation arise.
The cab of the ferris wheel rocked, and her hand squeezed tighter. Though her moans were in distress, it still shot fire through his veins. Fuck. He had to keep himself distracted or it was about to get really embarrassing really quickly.
“W-We’re talking body counts?” he laughed nervously, fingers moving through her hair quicker out of anxiousness. “We…tried to do normal couple things when we could. Like I said, they had similar jobs to me, so we weren’t always able to find the time. There were just a handful, five, since I can see the wheels in that pretty little head of yours turning.”
He rested his head against hers as he considered the next question. “In the cases with them, perhaps it was a wrong place, wrong time situation, or that I’m just…damaged. Everyone has their pasts, their secrets. Sometimes the baggage is too much to carry or shoulder. They are all great women, but…maybe they’re just better off without me.”
His heart constricted in his chest. Maybe Madison would have been better without him, too.
At her inquiry about his past, he let out a soft chuckle. “Well, they were all badasses, number one. They held their own against the toughest opponents, even regular civilians in Gotham. You know they can be rough around the edges.” He hoped she would take that the way he intended, that she was a badass, just like they were. “They even held their own with me, gave me a run for my money and always kept me guessing, kept me on my toes.”
He smirked mischievously, leaning down to kiss her ear. “That’s why I’m not going to go easy on you when we play, pretty girl. I know you’re going to give it your all, being the badass you are, and I won’t make it easy on you.”
They finally reached the peak, and he leaned his head forward. Her brown eyes were open then, and she was gazing out at where the Gotham skyline met the Atlantic Ocean. The smile on her face was worth it. The kiss to his cheek was a bonus. He squeezed her tightly in pride.
“There you go. That’s my good girl. You made it to the top and you’re overcoming your…aversion. I’m proud of you.”
Lowering his voice, the hand that had been across her midsection came down to rest on her hand covering his thigh. “I’d say…that’s cause for celebration with a sweet treat, don’t you?”
When it comes to getting intel, there are several ways to go about it. One could ask politely, or ask the right questions to eventually draw information from their target. There is intimidation, threatening your target and demanding the information in exchange for remaining unharmed. Then there is incognito surveillance, appearing inconspicuous and melding in with one’s environment just listening and watching.
The current session was the latter.
A raven-haired man with a blanched tuft in his bangs kept his teal eyes trained on the book in his massive, calloused right hand. His left swirled his take-away cup absentmindedly. He was reading words, but they weren’t registering in his brain. His focus was more concentrated on the conversations around him, and what information he could gather before his next patrol.
The first three rules of real estate are location, location, location. Burnley Brewhouse definitely had that, especially for Jason Todd. It was conveniently placed right on the very edge of Burnley, practically at the juncture of where Crime Alley and The Bowery neighborhoods started (which were all Jason’s domain). By day, the neighborhood was full of regular citizens, students and tourists. By night, the whole area was crawling with denizens of the dark wheeling and dealing for their own personal gain and vices while putting others at risk.
Jason brought his cup to his mouth for a sip, his eyes flicking to the counter where two men with heavier builds were waiting for their order. One had a rough 5 o’clock shadow, the other a scraggly, unkempt blond beard, both wearing holy jeans and beat-up leather jackets. He recalled seeing them once during a patrol a couple of weeks prior, skulking around by the Freight Yards. They were definitely up to no good then, and could offer him decent information in the present. The barista handed both of them a take-away cup, and his eyes quickly glanced down to his book again, his peripherals watching as they meandered around to sit at a table caddy-corner from his in the back corner of the shop.
“Terry was telling me about that new candy order he has coming in,” 5 O’Clock muttered lowly to his friend. “Said it should get here overnight, and we can distribute to the stores first thing in the morning.”
Scraggles ran his nails over his beard as he listened. “Loaded with sugar? Y’know these kids can’t get enough of their sugar.”
“He said it was everything needed from the inventory list. He said he has his pal Molly coming in to help with the shipment too.”
There was a small pause before, “How many donuts did he get and where from?”
“11 for the crew. I think he said they’re from Declan’s over on 14th Street.”
Jason had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Those two idiots were blatantly discussing a drug drop in broad daylight just as if they were talking about a regular candy store shipment.
He switched the book to his right hand as he snagged a napkin from the holder and a pen from the table. He scribbled a note to himself, writing the characters’ names from his book, followed by “PG 11, DL 14.” He knew his own shorthand; the character names were to keep up appearances. “PG 11” would remind him the drop was scheduled for 11, and “DL 14” would remind him the ship would be at Dock Bay 14.
His attention went back to his book as he brought the pen to his lips, teeth nibbling on the retractable plunge as he appeared deep in thought. He was about to tune back into 5 O’Clock and Scraggly’s conversation when the cafe’s entry bell rung.
His eyes flitted to the door to assess the entrant, and he froze. A young brunette with piercing dark eyes was glancing around, looking for a place to perch herself no doubt. She was breathtaking, and certainly unlike any other person he had seen come in to Burnley’s. As she turned to the counter, he couldn’t help the large grin that danced over his face. First he got lucky with the tip-off. Would he be lucky enough for that gorgeous girl to sit anywhere within his vicinity?
@rpwiththelilflower
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siolixz · 2 days ago
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ღ Of Love and Loyaltyღ
One-Shot
+18
<Part 1> <Part 3: final>
Pairings: Oz "The Penguin" Cobb x Reader
Reader takes Victor's place in this story. She and Oz have developed a relationship of sorts and now she changed based on her circumstances and everything she has around her. Reader is a young girl infatuated with a man decades older than her- who is also very dangerous and powerful (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)👌 Oz's mom is actually dead in this story. I will write a third and final part to this after the last episode. Everyone in this story is 18+ and consenting 100%.
Enjoy, give some feedback if you want. (>‿◠)✌
Warnings: violence, age-gap relationship, smut(¬‿¬)
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You finally made something of yourself. Sure it was all blood money, but you did- you did what you had to do to survive and not only that, to thrive. 
Before leaving he told you to get in the car while he talked to Sofia outside, when you got back he was on his knees- a gun pointed at his face. You acted on impulse and drove the car into one of the guys there; best thing you could’ve done at the moment he told you.
 You would think that planning to escape would distance you from him but it did the opposite- even after wrecking his car, that poor gorgeous car; you’ve never been in one as fancy before- let alone drive it.  
“I’m so-sorry about your car.” you said as you stared at it in flames. 
“Yeah- what're ya gonna do 'bout it- only the good die young.” he came closer to you and grabbed the back of your head- forcing you to look at him. “Don’t be sad about it- you’re worth a thousand more to me.” 
He told you that you two were “really in it now”- and he couldn’t have been more right about that.
He got the Bliss operation back from the Maroni family by burning the mother and the heir apparent to their family- together. His brutality frightened you but If he wanted to rule the mob- he had to be brutal and unwavering in his choices, at least that’s what you told yourself to justify what he had done. Now not only Sofia Gigante was after you, but also Sal Maroni.
In the weeks following you had your own operation- underground, in a sewer system that connected you to all of Gotham, you became Oz’s eyes and ears above ground, traveling on your motorcycle- giving him news about the world above and delivering his money directly in his hands. He had given you your own gun—"just in case someone messes with you"—though you never ended up using it.
 Oz trusted you, even after your attempt at an escape- he moved you two to an apartment on the East Side, one that reminded you of your old one; without electricity but it did its job. In the apartment you got very close to him, you got to know him much better and you changed too in the meantime, you were more confident- more sure of yourself next to him. 
He was all you had, the one person who made you feel like you were the center of his world. One night- he came "home" late, as he often did. You were already in bed, curled up and trying to stay warm when you felt the familiar weight of his body sinking into the mattress. He slid under the covers and pulled you close, and you sighed, finally feeling the warmth and comfort of his embrace.
"The people in charge really don’t give a fuck about us," you murmured, exhaustion lacing your voice. It was a tired frustration—being cold at work and now being cold at home. Winter was coming, and your mind drifted to families with children who needed warmth.
He took a deep breath. The long days weighed heavily on him; managing his people and the constant stress left him drained. Most nights, he would grab a bite, and as soon as his head hit the pillow, cold or not, he’d fall into a deep sleep. You’d take advantage of those moments, cuddling close and pulling his heavy arm over you. Oswald slept like a rock.
"I’ll do something about it," he said, his deep voice vibrating through you. In the weeks you’d been together, you’d learned how to speak to him, how to make him feel powerful—your man, your only one. He was the only man who had ever made you feel this way, and you couldn’t deny the rush you felt watching him command respect when he barked out orders to his men, a cigar perched between his lips. God, he was handsome. Your stomach would flutter every time you caught a glimpse of him, even if only for a second.
He was a towering presence, terrifying when he loomed over you, and seeing him angry was enough to scare you senseless. But it also sets your heart racing for other reasons too.
Before the club, his gaze never strayed from you; now, it was his hands that constantly sought you. He couldn't help himself when you were close, sometimes grabbing you in public like an eager kid in a candy shop. You learned that when he called you into his "office," it meant he was either seething with anger or burning with desire—either way, you knew he’d end up taking it out on you. 
He’d told you more than once that he hadn’t felt this alive in years, and you could sense the shift in everything he did—from the way he spoke to the intensity in the way he fucked you. He had changed.
You told him about Squid- about how he came up to you today- asking you where you got your clothes- “what shit you got cooking” - Oz asked you if it was going to be a problem, you told him no; he could count on you- you won’t let him down.
“You know, I think you’re the only thing keeping me good, doll.” he traced circles on your arm. If you were keeping him good, what was Oz like when bad? The thought sent a shiver down your spine.
You felt his hands traveling under the blanket and beneath the sweater and t-shirt you had on and you proceeded to hiss once they made contact with your skin “your hands are so cold” you said and he chuckled.
The next day, you made true to your promise and met up with Squid- you had a plan, of course you did, you would give him some money and hope he would leave you alone.
Of course the dumb bastard declined the money- of course he tried to intimidate you to “bring him to the big man” or else he was gonna go to the Maronis or Falcones- maybe they would help him; the fuck was he thinking?  That a small-time asshole like him could make a deal with Oz? 
So many thoughts were running through your head, what if you did bring him to Oz? You didn’t want to bother him, he had enough stuff he had to worry about- plus the things Oz would do to him were too graphic to think about. What if you ran? No, he would catch you- probably beat the shit out of you too. Shit.
“Ok, I’ll take you to him.” you said as you were going down the steps, him following. Fuck-fuck you had to shoot him, this motherfucker was going to ruin whatever you had going on.
You had to shoot him, no other time better than now- your pistol was in the front of your jeans. Do it now.  You grabbed your gun from your pants and before you knew it, you turned around and pulled the trigger. 
When you opened your eyes, Squid was gripping his throat- blood was coming out in buckets- he stared at you and your shocked face. Neither of you believing what you just did. Your breathing was becoming heavier and heavier- almost gasping for breath- you just shot someone- he was going to die. 
Oh god, he was dying. You watched as the light drained from his eyes and you didn’t want to stick around to see him pass so you ran- you ran to your motorcycle and then you drove above the speed limit, probably breaking a few laws too until you got underground.
 He was probably dead by now- you just killed him. You never realized that you were crying as well; you ran to his office and thanked the lord that no one was around to see you. 
You opened the door and there he was, wearing a well tailored shirt and a vest- writing something down- money next to him. He quickly looked up as he heard you come in and then dropped his head down to continue what he was writting “Well look who decided to pay me a visit”,  he muttered with a smirk; you tried to control your sobs and when he heard the shallow breath you took to steady yourself- he looked up again “The fuck happened?” he immediately got up and went towards you.
You told him what happened between sobs as he held you on his lap, seated in his chair.  You told him everything; about Squid- how he threatened to go to the Falcones or the Maronis- how you knew you had no choice and while leaning back he told you that it will get easier, this isn’t the end of the world.
“You wanna know something?” He grabbed your face and made you look at him “You did what was right, you protected yourself, what you have. No one can take that from you- I’m proud of you.” Your sad demeanor was gone by now and replaced with the familiar warmth you had whenever he said something like this.
 He kissed you and brought your body and embraced you “You’ve grown so much in these weeks, you’re no longer the kid that used to sneak around buildings-” you kissed him, bringing his lower lip between your lips. You wanted to forget- forget what happened and what you did- he always made you forget all your worries, you only ever thought about him when you were in his presence. He put his arm beneath both of your legs as you were sitting and you almost yelped when he got you on his desk.
“Oz-” Ok, maybe getting him started wasn’t the best idea, whenever you got him going he would forget about the windows in his office or the fact that someone might hear you.
You tried to bring one of your legs between the two of you, trying to stop him “-Oz, when we are home” you tried to reason with the man, even if getting fucked in his office would turn you on in the worst ways and you would be lying if you said that you weren’t getting wet already.
 He loved the power he would hold over you- whenever he would manhandle you in any position he would like or whenever he would order you to do something- you couldn’t lie, you liked it too; sometimes he would have you suck his cock as he solved the men's pay, sometimes he would have you on all fours on his bed- Oz was a man that loved to be in control, to be number one- the best. You knew that. 
He was already getting your jacket off, “Oz-” he grabbed the money from the table and placed it away from you two, before getting back to kissing and groping you.
He grabbed hold of your clothed pussy and from the feeling of his hand there- you raised your butt slightly up and pushed back into him.
 This relationship that you two had, it made you feel like a woman- it was so different than the one you had with Robert, where it was just light touches on your face and small kisses- Oswald was a man, whenever he wanted you, he would have you and it made you feel as if you were wanted and desired- it made you feel alive.
He stopped and you knew someone was probably at the door. Shit- this is so embarrassing, you looked down and without making eye contact, went into the small room connecting to his office- he had a bed there, a small one; not big enough for two people to sleep comfortably but it was something. It was also way more warm in here than outside where everyone else was working. 
You took your sweater off and sat on the bed, while listening to what he was saying to the guy that came in, something about the meeting he had and a surprise. You had to ask him about that, but after he was done with you.
 Your heart was beating out of your ches- the door opened. 
He looked at you and made small steps towards the bed, you were smiling while scooting back- with butterflies dancing in your stomach; wondering what he was gonna do next when he grabbed both of your legs and placed them on either side of him before joining you on the bed- on top of you.
One of his hands immediately went to your ass, giving him easier access to rubbing himself over you and the other one was supporting him.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer as your lips met his. Despite the darkness and heaviness of the moment, he still radiated a magnetic presence—full of charisma as ever, his scent enveloping you in a way that made everything else fade. From the sharpness of his aftershave to the depth of his cologne, he had it all. He started pushing himself even harder against you, where it was almost painful; you moaned in his mouth and against his tongue. 
He raised himself on his knees on the bed, casting a shadow over you and ordered you to take your jeans off and get on all fours while he was taking his vest off and unbuttoning his dress shirt. Your hands were shaking a little bit as you unbuttoned your pants and took them off.
After you obeyed him and raised your butt in the air, he grabbed hold of it- to angle you how he wanted; excitement so palpable you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, almost laughing. You felt him slowly enter you, giving you a few small moments to adjust to his size- you closed your eyes and moaned, you don’t think you’re ever gonna get enough of this man; all of him.
“Oh baby-” he was always so vocal during sex. 
The feeling of him stretching you out and the feeling of him pushing himself in you in and out- whenever he would press himself back in, he brushed up against your g-spot- the sound of his body when it connected to yours was so loud- it made your cheeks burn- you were so wet and he didn’t even touch you all that much, like that night at the club. He had a gun under your chin and you were so wet, who even were you anymore?
You arched your back, consciously making yourself as pleasing as possible for him. The act itself sent a thrill through you, but it also made your cheeks flush with a mix of desire and shy uncertainty- the usual girlhood embarrassment that flushed your cheeks overtaking your body whenever he had you like this. 
When he found his rhythm- while grabbing your waist and pushing you back into him, he’d shower you with praise. “You take me so well… you’re such a good girl—my good girl.” He knew exactly how to make your stomach flip with words like that—this old dog. 
He pulled you back against him time and time again before you felt like it was almost painful, your moans of pleasure mixing with those of pain.
He pulled himself out and got on his back next to you, ”Come ‘ere” you giggled in excitement- he loved whenever you rode him.
You squatted over him- your legs on either side of his body and with one of your hands- you brought his cock between your legs and you watched closely as his stupid grin was wiped from his face when you lowered down on him, mouth open- you gave him a quick peck on his lips. Your legs were almost shaking and a thin layer of sweat covered his forehead. 
From this position you could feel him so deep inside- you started to grind yourself on him- it felt so good; you almost started crying again. 
Oz grabbed your tits from underneath your shirt and was slowly pushing himself deeper in you “You’re my girl- I’m so proud-” he groaned as he said that, this mountain of a man- beneath you, between your thighs; you felt like you held the power “-I’m so proud of you.” 
From this position you could feel him brushing against your clit, the feeling only making you go faster, the thrill of reaching your peak on him taking over “easy…easy” he repeated- obviously, you didn't listen. 
You shifted the tempo, lifting yourself up before sliding back down, causing him to grimace. Without missing a beat, he pulled your upper body down, pressing you flush against him- you pressed your face against his shoulder and he grabbed it- holding it there; the cold feeling of his rings compared to how hot your face was giving you goosebumps.
You felt him adjust his legs and from this position he started to fuck you how he wanted to. He thrived on being in charge, practically reveled in the power it gave him. God, your throat was dry- you were sure you would be sore down there after you two were done.
 You knew anyone walking by could 100% hear you at this point, you tried to be quiet but to no avail with this man. Oz seemed to like whenever people would stare at the two of you and it excited him to think anyone would be listening in.
You brought your face up when he slowed down and kissed him, putting your tongue in his mouth. This felt so amazing but you knew he probably had places he had to be. “Do I make you feel good baby?” you nodded, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the right side of his face, right on the thick scar that ran from his mouth to his cheekbone.
He was a strikingly intimidating man, his features hardened by a life of danger. You slowly brought yourself down and up- trying to match his movements. 
“You get so tight around me-” he placed his arm over you, bringing you as tight as he could on him. 
One of your hands went under the pillow he had under his head and the other was gripping the side of the bed. His rhythm was becoming sloopy- switching between fucking you and kissing you, on your cheeks or on your mouth; he grabbed your ass in both of his hands, squeezing and pushing you down on him while he fucked you. 
You looked in his eyes, the light from above casting a shadow over them that only added to his allure.  “-I’m gonna cum” you nodded again- words escaping you “Tell me where-tell me” he closed his eyes- you knew he would start with that, the only way he finished was inside you. 
Whether it was your mouth or your pussy. Oz loved when you would describe how he felt in you, how you loved when he would fuck you- how you wanted him to cum in you. It turned him on. It turned him on how embarrassed you would feel most of the time he made you say those things.
You told him you wanted it inside and It wasn’t long before he started his fast pace again and you closed your eyes, trying not to moan as loud as you would like- fuck he felt so good. It mustn't have been long before you felt him slow down and the familiar feeling of his cock pulsing inside of you. You had to drink some water- your throat was hurting. Oz hugged you close to him and while one of his hands was rubbing your back he kissed your forehead- “You feeling better?”.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's note: Bro you just fucked him AGAIN?
Finished there the story because I KNEW i would start writing a lot and I wanna finish part 2 in time for the finale. I'm sososos excited for it and sad it will end ugh. Anyways hope you enjoyed and thank you to all the people that wrote nice things to me regarding my writing, I've been having some health problems lately and your messages made me feel so much better, truly. Have a nice day :))))))
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oimitocat · 3 days ago
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TTANG | OS
bang chan x m!reader
gun wounds + injury + violence + crying + death threats + coping mechanisms
a/n: i have another req. similar so stay tuned
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security is on high alert. it’s been a week or so since the death threats have begun. maybe they should have expected it… as many people love you, there is always a few that hate you. it’s the blessing and curse of being famous.
ilogical, you’d say. super stupid. people that have nothing better to do and rile things up.
many (true) fans are defensive.
you and chan have talked about it. how good it feels to know the fans are taking care of them however they can. chan himself always makes sure things go right. he’s checking in with security, with managers. everything.
there is that slight worry. the members don’t exactly talk about it, but you yourself know they think the same as you. what if?
the concert starts and your enjoying yourself. you make contact with jeongin and grin. you fist bump with felix and laugh with minho when jisung makes a mistake. you talk to your fans and simply end up feeling at ease. you put your trust in security and management.
you check up on chan during outfit change.
“see, all good.” you say softly, rubbing his arm.
he nods. he’s pretty serious but you don’t put much mind to it. you trust that at the end of the night he’ll lighten up for real.
sadly, at the end of the night is when everything goes south. felix is talking as the show almost comes to an end. you casually look around at the hundreds of fans watching them- when you here a gunshot. everyone naturally ducks. the fans scream. security runs around. your in ear is suddenly ringing a noise in your ear.
your managers are screaming at all of you to run to backstage. you spin around and run, catching up to chan who, despite the situation, makes sure the other kids are backstage first.
“go!” you shove him, spinning him around at the entrance when the second gunshot is fired.
your bodyguards are barely getting on the platform to guard you and change whatever outcome could happen.
yet, at the third gunshot, you cover chan. your guards don’t make it in time to prevent the situation. your eyes widen when a pain shoots from your upper back. the impact itself sends you forward, stumbling down the flight of stairs. chan screams, so do the kids and staff waiting at the bottom.
a hiss and groan escape your lips when you hit the floor. you force your eyes to open, watching chan run down the stairs to reach for you. it’s so noisy- screams, orders and crying. yet, your ears muffle it out when you finally take your hand away from your chest. you had blood dripping between your fingers. your eyes flit to chan’s wide eyes, his hands grabbing your bloody one.
the pain subsides into numbness. you’re bleeding out on the floor, breathing is hard- then you’re on a stretcher. then you feel yourself drifting in and out of consciousness.
then everything goes black. you can hear for a bit. you wish you could’ve heard chan’s voice instead of the EMT’s yelling out codes and whatnot. soon though, you truly black out.
it’s not a very comfortable sleep. literally felt like you were in a sleep paralysis. by the time you come to some awareness, that’s all you feel. you hear people talk. you feel when you’re moved to a bed. you knew when the lights were on or off. you felt cold sometimes and hot other times.
after who knows how long you actually were out for, you finally open your eyes. your manager gasps and sits up.
not even a few minutes later you’re popular by a couple nurses and a doctor. turns out the bullet hit your from the back breaking a rib and shot through. fatal, apparently.
you beg and ask for them not to tell the members. they already know you’re recovering, just not awake yet. you don’t want visitors.
it’s an agonizing few days. your manager keeps updating you on things. all you want is to be in chan’s arms, really. your body is still sore from the aftermath, but all you really care about is how chan is doing.
you know he’s strong. but you also know how much he can take. this isn’t something light. sometimes you close your eyes and remember how scared he was.
you miss him.
“what’s with that face?” chan sits up and whips his head around to look at you.
he opens his mouth but nothing comes out. he can’t even stand without stumbling. “y-y/n!”
“you’re supposed to be at the hospital-“ he falls silent when your fingers brush the side of his face.
“i got discharged an hour ago,” you say casually, sitting next to him on the bed. “so, what’s with that face?”
“i was just…” he stares at you. he knows you, so as much as he wants to pry and ask, he knows you’re not up for it. he shrugs, swallowing down his emotions while looking away. “thinking.”
“about me?”
“who else?” he chuckles dryly, “but about everything… i never thought anyone would actually go through with a threat…”
you watch him, “i mean we had talked about it, but experiencing it is different. i’m okay and that’s what matters.”
“but the bullet was for me-“
“it was for any of us.” he looks at you, “okay maybe it was for you. i don’t even know how but i just felt the need to be blocking you and then that happened. jyp already released a statement and like i said, what matter is…” you swallow when you see him wipe away his tears, “is that i’m fine. i’m alive. i’m here.”
there’s a silence that engulfs you. then, you pull him into a hug. “i’m here, chan.”
and he sobs into your chest. after days of holding everything in— his worry, his anger… his love. his fear of you not coming back. of something probably going wrong last minute and you don’t make it- “i love you so much,” he cries.
“i love you just as much,” you tighten your arms around him. “i think me taking that bullet proves it.” you pause when his arms twitch around you, “okay my bad, i shouldn’t joke about it.”
chan sighs, sniffling after. “that’s what i love about you… it makes me happy to know that you’re still you.”
“of course,” you wince a bit as you try to get him onto your lap to cuddle him better. “this is good. i have something to flex during interviews.”
chan snorts, shaking his head. he looks up at you, tears still glimmering in his eyes. you eye him, taking every detail of him. he’s so fragile now. you remember the look of absolute mortification when you were bleeding out on the floor. you lean in and kiss his lips before hugging him again. you bury your face into his neck.
“we’re fine, chan.” you whisper.
he nods, embracing you and closing his eyes.
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midnight-mourning · 2 days ago
Text
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!
Or at least, happy spookvember! Unfortunately couldn't get this out on time like I wanted, BUT it's here now (or will be soon). I figured since the poll I made back at the end of September was so close, I'd just give you guys a bonus of a Halloween thing for funsies. So, if you haven't guessed it already:
click the read more please
YOU'RE GETTING ANOTHER ONESHOT!
in 24 hours, or less.
Let me explain
So, the promptober ended up being MUCH longer than I anticipated, and I think with how much that happened, y'all need to sit and digest it before i hit you smack in the face with another one. I also need time to write it and it's gonna end up being worked on today and tomorrow both. By the time you see this I will be back at it.
BUT KNOW THIS, it's on it's way, and it picks up right off where we left off in the promptober. It's going to be a much more light-hearted read as well.
So, KEEP THIS POST SAVED, as I'll update it with the one-shot once it's finished, as well as an ao3 link. I'll also post an update with the link so you'll hopefully be notified once it's here. SO, hope you enjoyed the first part, and be on the lookout for part two soon :)
IF YOURE SEEING THIS AND YOU HAVEN'T READ THIS STORY FIRST. DO SO. It's basically the set up for this one.
Okay, here's your story, hope you enjoy! Ended up being much longer than I anticipated but she's fun.
Borrowed Time
Word count: 5511
🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃
"Hurry up! We're gonna be late!" You hear your sister call from outside your room. 
You adjust your shirt collar once more, and double check the green paint covering any and all exposed skin on your body hasn't smeared. Though, you doubt it. Lisa made sure to completely cover you. Be that because she wanted your costume to look nice or simply because it was a ploy to make you miserable, who's to say?
You turn around, facing your brother who's sitting up on the bed, still looking very cute in his pumpkin costume. 
Your sister bursts into the room, "Let's goooo." She moans, marching over to you and starting to shove you towards the door with gloved hands.
"Hey, hey cool it Frankenstein. There's a baby on the bed that has to come with us."
You can't see her eyes through the goggles she's wearing, but her frown tells you she's not pleased. 
You turn to face her fully, "Lisa. We can't leave Gabe at home."
She groans, and starts trudging out of your room, "Fineeee, but hurry uuupp."
"Okaaayyyy," You say, and put your focus on your little brother. 
You put your hands on your hips, "Alright Gabriel, ready to go?"
He sneezes. 
"Good enough for me," You nod, scooping him up and heading downstairs. 
Your neighborhood was filled with people in their 60s or older, all retired types and the likes, with a few families with kids Lisa's age here and there. Meaning it was a gold mine for candy. You make your usual lap around the block, Lisa guiding you as you pull Gabe along in his wagon. 
As you return to your house, Lisa's bucket and the wagon having collected a good bit of candy, you reach down and snatch up a chocolate bar, snacking on it.
You decide you have to mess with her at least a little bit, "You sure you still want to go to the Plex? This is quite the haul, you know."
"Yes! You promised!"
You laugh, ruffling her already crazed hair, "Just making sure. Go dump your candy on the table while I strap Gabe in, yeah?"
She rushes off, and while you're putting your brother in the car and loading up the wagon your phone buzzes. 
It's Abby, 'Hey! You going to make it to the party tonight?
Gonna be super spooky~ :)
And there's a costume contest! Winner gets a sweet prize'
You text back as you start up your car, Lisa rushing back out the door to get in, 'I'll stop by for a bit, team's making me, but Lisa's foaming at the mouth to trick or treat this year and that's my priority'
'Yeah that'd be mine too if I was dealing with her
Thankfully mom and dad have Jack and I don't'
You walk up to your porch, double checking you left the candy bowl out and lock your front door.
'If I have to take a guess, she'll be exhausted by nine and I can drop 'em both off in the Daycare for a bit
but not for long, I wanna be in bed by 11 tonight'
'What are you, 30?'
You get in your car, ignoring Lisa's whining to get a move on, 'Hahahahahaha no.
Just slept bad during my nap earlier'
You pull out, heading to the Pizza Plex. When you arrived, the place is packed, you just manage to grab a parking spot. As soon as she's out of the car Lisa is heading for the entrance, and you have grab her so you can get Gabe out and situated in his wagon. 
Upon entering, you're actually quite impressed. You'd seen some staff setting up over the past few days, but now that all the decorations were up it really added to the wow factor. People milled about from place to place, all dressed up, and Halloween music played from speakers all across the atrium. 
You look down to your sister, "Alright, where do you wanna start first-aaand she's gone. Dang it, Lisa."
After a quick search you spy her at one of the many tables and booths set up. You give her a brief scolding but then continue on with your evening. 
By seven you're the one that's exhausted, you're pretty sure you've hit every spot once if not twice. Except for one, that is. 
You'd been saving the Daycare because it's where you'd wanted to end, but now you had no choice, Lisa had quite literally visited every trick or treating spot already, and played most of the carnival games. 
The doors are open, and inside you see kids running about playing games and such. Tending to a long line of trick or treaters is Mia and one of the other helpers. She's dressed as a werewolf, while the other helper-Carter maybe?-is dressed as a ghoul.
The former greets you as you approach, "Hey! Good to see you! Love your costume."
"Thank you, I made it for them," Lisa speaks for you, chest puffing with pride. 
Mia drops some candy into her bucket, "Well of course! Excellent work, Dr. Frankenstein. There's more candy and goodies inside if you'd like to take a peek."
Your sister turns to you, eyes wide. You nod, and she's rushing in, almost knocking over Carter in the process. 
You cringe as you watch after her, her maniacal laughter echoing in her wake. 
"Sorry about her," You say as you step to the side, pulling Gabe's wagon up to beside you.
Mia waves her hand, "No worries, but look at this cutie here!" She bends down to Gabe's level, "Hello Gabriel! You look very handsome this evening."
He giggles as she continues to fawn over him. In the meantime, you scan through the Daycare, looking for the bot you're pretty sure was the subject of your crazy dream earlier. 
He shows himself for you, suddenly appearing on the ground in front of a group of kids, who shriek from fear and delight. He raises to his full height slowly, using his cape to cover part of his face. 
His cape bursts open and he poses, hands up and fingers clawed. It causes the little group to scatter, laughing as they run away. 
As he straightens again, he suddenly pauses for a moment, his focus turning to you. His rays spin once or twice and you smirk, waving. 
Another pause, then, one hand to his chest, he bows low. Your phone buzzes as he rises again. 
'We need to talk.'
You frown, but then shake it off, 'Can't even compliment my costume first? Lisa spent like three hours getting me this green'
'It's, fine. Perhaps a bit tacky, but fine'
You have to hide your gasp as you look up to him, he's now busy with several kids,  'You know, there's a particular emoji I want to send you right now, but I won't because at least one of us has class
I hope that glitter glue stains your faceplate'
'You're simply jealous I look better than you, it sounds like'
You grit your teeth, 'When and where?'
'Ball pit. As soon as possible, preferably'
You glance back to see Mia still messing with Gabe, they're playing peek a boo.
"Hey, this is a weird ask, but could you watch Gabe for me for a second? I uh, need to go check on Lisa."
She gives you a thumb's up and a grin, "Of course! Here Gabe, you wanna help me pass out candy?"
With that taken care of, you head off into the chaos of the Daycare. 
Dodging running kids, you do spy your sister among them, viciously trying to win a game with donuts on a string. Her snapping teeth and general, aggressive, energy does make you question for a moment how much sugar she's had already.
You shrug it off, she's probably fine.
Another group of kids running giggling from Sun by the ball pit, but his demeanor shifts as soon as he sees you. Standing tall, maybe even irritated. 
"Well? What's so important it can't wait until say, tomorrow?"
Sun's hands smooth out his shirt, "Something's going on with Fazerblast."
"Yeah, trust me I'm well aware," You scoff and shake your head, "Been working on it for days with no luck, why do you care?"
His eyes narrow, "Because it's an opportunity, Bright Eyes. Surely you see that."
"Opportunity? For what-Oh no. No, no, no, you are not doing this to me tonight."
He clasps his hands together, bending so you're eye to eye, "When would you like me to remind you then, Sunshine? When the attraction and, surrounding areas, are functional again and we're able to do nothing?"
You're mad. Because you know he's right. You hate it when he's right. Much less admit to it. 
The glitches that've been occurring have been, concerning, to say the least. The map bots have been going haywire after using the charging stations, the music that plays throughout becoming warped, distorted. Certain walls and such shifting randomly, in some cases trapping kids in boxed out sections, to the concern of angry parents. 
Not to mention that the guns have also been malfunctioning, misfiring and in some cases, shocking participants when fired. Both the wielder and their target, which should not be happening. And that’s on top of the power outages.
Sun leans closer, voice low, "I believe you are as aware as I regarding a certain, threat, looming in this building. Surely you don't doubt that they may see tonight as as much an opportunity, right?"
You feel your eyes widen a tinge, "You think, you know who, is behind it? Why?"
"It's not her typical method, but it's the only logical conclusion I can come to," His rays spin, "And I'd rather interfere now before it grows worse."
"Mister Sun! What are you two talking 'bout?"
You both jump, looking down and seeing a couple curious kids.
Sun goes into action immediately, taking your hand and spinning you into a dip, "I'm persuading them to join my legion of the undead for all eternity, and if you aren't careful, I'll get you too!"
That does the trick, they run off giggling and chattering. You're still in his arms when you speak up.
"What was that."
He seems to realize he's still holding you, setting you upright and brushing his hands off on his pants, "Acting. Try not to think too hard on it, wouldn't want to damage that brain you're borrowing."
You scoff, "Ha ha. Anyway, since when do you care about other people? I don't see how you're set to gain anything from figuring this out."
"It's not 'people', that I'm worried about, Bright Eyes. Freddy is supposed to be hosting a game of laser tag later tonight and I fear-" He stops himself, looking away. 
You're surprised, but stick to just a simple tease, "Aw, you care about your friends, how sweet. Fine, I'm in. But you better have a strategy for getting out of here without being noticed."
"I think the opportunity may present itself sooner than anticipated," You see he's looking behind you.
The kids from before are back, and have brought many friends, garnering a small crowd. You spot Lisa among them, hands on her hips and angry pout on her lips. 
She takes charge, pointing, "Hey! The only one that gets to boss them around is me."
Once again, you don't get to react. 
Sun laughs darkly, shifting to stand behind you and taking you by the shoulders. He bends so his head is by your ear, taking surprising care to ensure you don't get poked by his rays. 
You glance up and see the wire lower from the ceiling slowly, "I'm afraid you're too late, Dr. They've fallen into my clutches and I won't be letting go so easily. They're mine now, and I'll be whisking them away to live in my castle, forever!"
Suddenly, you're in the air, Sun holding you firmly around the waist to ensure you don't fall. 
"But, as compensation for your loss," He opens his cloak and candy falls to the ground where you'd been standing, "Please accept this gracious exchange."
To your sister's credit, she seems to considered the offer for a moment before, "I suppose this suffices, very well," And she has the audacity to wave her hand.
Your mouth is agape in shock as you're carried over to the balcony outside the Daycare Attendant's room, "Lisa!"
"He had skittles! That's too good to pass up!" She shouts back, already digging through the candy with the other kids.
Sun sets you both down on the balcony shortly thereafter, and ushers you inside.
"And what was that?" You look up to him, only for his hands to cover your eyes.
"Still acting~ Now, no peeking. I don't need you invading my privacy."
"But you're the one who brought me up here!" You protest. No fair. You didn't even get a single glance around the room.
He scoffs lightly, "Semantics, Sunbeam. Start walking."
If you were in a worse mood you'd have ignore the demand. But, you want to get this over with as quick as possible. You feel bad just leaving your siblings in the care of the helpers without any notice, and you'd also like to actually enjoy Halloween a bit instead of doing what you do every day. 
You hear a door open and shut, and the hands are removed. It's still dark however, and turning you see the other Attendant is standing behind you.
"How do you manage to completely change your outfit?" You nod to the lack of shirt and cloak. 
His faceplate spins, "Trade secret."
"Fair enough, how's your Halloween going? Besides this I mean," You start walking down the hall to the theater, where you hear a Halloween movie playing.
He walks beside you, passing out a candy or two to the kids who notice you pass, "Delightful. I rather enjoy holidays when they're open to the public. Thought a day off is nice every so often."
"Tell me about it, I'm glad we decided to take a half-day today."
You reach the door and Moon bids you farewell, "Good luck, and try not to be too hasty, Icarus."
"No promises," You wink and start to walk out of the theater, only to pause and spin around to watch the transformation but, "Oh come on! That was way too quick."
Sun adjust the collar of his shirt, "You have better things to be worrying about, let's get going now, hm?"
"Yeah, yeah, you don't have to tell me twice."
You set off, walking through the busy Plex to Fazerblast. It's actually easier than you expected. No one questions why you and the Attendant are together, which is a nice change of pace from always being concerned about being caught. With the added factor and chaos of Halloween, it's no trouble, save for a few kids wanting pictures and candy. 
You run into Chica along the way, she's dressed up as Roxanne. While the chat is cheerful, it's also useful in confirming that yes, Freddy will be hosting a Halloween tournament in the next twenty minutes. It also confirms your fears. 
"I feel so bad for him! He's been practicing so much, even choosing to charge over there as opposed to his room the past few nights," Chica sighs, "And yet, he seems so tired, kind of out of it, you know? Not to mention his laser gun keeps causing problems..."
Sun and yourself share a glance but say nothing.
Chica waves her hand, "Well, don't let me keep you anymore, have fun you two!" She shoots a wink and a finger gun your wave and you look away, embarrassed.
As you walk off Sun questions it, "What was that about?"
"Nothing, don't worry about it," You shake your head, coughing, then notice how he's paused, optics dim, "What?"
His eyes brighten again, but his tone is grim, "Freddy's not responding over the FECN. And after discussing with the rabbit, he apparently hasn't for over an hour."
"I'm guessing that's not normal?" 
Sun shakes his head slowly.
You curse under your breath, "Come on, we're almost there and now we know we don't have any time to spare-"
Your hand is grabbed by someone, Abby you realize, "There you are! Come on, we just watched Pete dunk Jesse's head in the apple tank and now they're fighting."
"It was so funny, Bri's trying to break them up but I don't think it's going well," Savannah puts her hand on your shoulder, also guiding you along.
You glance back in time to see Sun get pat on the back by Liv as she follows after you three, grabbing the bot's arm, "You should join too! Come on!"
Your eyes meet Sun's and you think you share the same, slightly panicked look. You don't have time for the party. Knowing what you do about Freddy there's no telling what's going to happen at this tournament.
But you can't think of an excuse as an easy out and thus, you have no choice but to join in the festivities and look for a chance to escape in the meantime.
Thankfully, Sun seems to think the same way, not resisting as the two of you are paraded into the west arcade. 
The music's booming, people are chatting excitedly, and laughter is heard every so often. The decorations here are just are spooky as those throughout the Plex, cobwebs and bats and pumpkins hanging off railings and the ceiling and so on. 
Sure enough, you spy a soaking wet Jesse and Pete sitting across from each other by the stage. Tyler meanwhile, is chomping on an apple while leaning back against the stage, you see it’s one of several. He shoots you a ‘hang loose’ upon seeing you.
Bri is standing over the pair on the ground and appears to be scolding them. She perks up when she sees you arrive though.
"Well look what the cat dragged in!" She grins, giving you a brief hug, "And Sun! You look great!"
He mutters a quiet thank you as she continues to chat with him. Meanwhile you scan your surroundings for any kind of distraction to you get out of here.
"Looking for something?" Pete asks from below you, drawing you out of your worried thoughts. 
You glance down to him, "Just observing. What's the deal with you two and water?" You gesture between him and Jesse.
The later stops rubbing his hair with a pumpkin towel, "Pete thinks if he waterboards me it proves he's right."
"That is not true, you started it! He said my costume wasn't good," He looks to the other man on the ground, sneering "Which, by the way, yours is shit."
Jesse throws up his hands, half-dried cloth flailing in the air, "You're the one who picked it out for me, and did my makeup!"
They start bickering and Savannah comes up beside you again, shaking her head, "Ignore them, they're especially annoying tonight because they're both drinking."
"Not surprising."
She pats your shoulder, "Hey, I know it's a party and I really don't want to talk shop, but, I had a breakthrough with the trigger pins."
"Oh? I'm listening," You can't leave currently, might as well find a way to pass the time. 
"I snagged one of the faulty guns and just, took it apart to see what I could find, you know, quality engineer brain," She takes a sip of her drink, "And there's nothing wrong with it. The triggers are fine. It's a software issue, got to be."
Your eyes widen slightly, and it occurs to you what situation you might have on your hands here. 
Unfortunately, the lights cut before you can react. The emergency lights come on soon thereafter however, so the room's only in relative darkness. People seem slightly alarmed, but once someone boots up a generator and the music starts again, they settle. 
You hear a couple whistles behind you, and several compliments. 
"Woah! That transition was slick, and your costume looks great!"
A quiet, shy laugh, and, "Thank you, Officer Perry."
You turn, finding Moon standing in Sun's place. And, yet again, you've missed the change in costumes. Damn. 
But, you know a chance when it's put in front of you like this, and checking the time you see you've got a little under ten minutes. 
You walk over to the bot who's still getting many compliments and take his hand, looking up to him, "Come with me to get a drink."
He nods, and giving a wave to your friends, you head off. 
"I don't believe this is the time for beverages, Pandora."
When you get far enough away you stop, turning to him, "I know. Just needed an excuse. Hopefully they'll buy it." You realize you're still holding his hand and quickly let it go, mumbling an apology.
You notice he seems on edge.
"What's wrong now?" You're almost afraid to ask.
"Freddy has been, removed, from the FECN."
"But the last time something like that happened-" You stop, swallowing your fear, "How fast can you get down there?"
Moon chuckles, "Depends on how much you trust me, Diana. And how strong your grip is."
You find out what he means as you're rushing through the rafters and the halls and over balconies to get to the laser tag area. You hold on for dear life, only able to hear the whooshing of air as Moon carries you.
"You're quicker than I thought!" You say over the noise.
You feel his chuckle more than hear it, "Is that a compliment?"
"You can take it as one, how's that?" You squeak and huddle closer to him when you drop from one railing to another.
"Still bitter about my costume change?"
You take the provided distraction, "You're hiding a modern engineering feat from me on purpose. That's cruel. Something I'd expect Sun to do to me, not you, Moon-man."
"You think so highly of me," He beams, "I'll keep that in mind for future use."
The conversation helps ease you a little. You don't think he would drop you, intentionally or unintentionally, but his secure hold along with teasing words offers you a bit of comfort as you worry over what you'll find once you arrive at Fazerblast. 
When you arrive in the staff hallway, it's as dark as anywhere else, only emergency lights being the way to see. It's enough, however, for Sun to reappear. 
"Still no sign of him?" You ask as you walk over to the door. 
You hear a click or two, "No, not yet-"
Suddenly, before you can get out your keycard you're pressed back into the door, Sun's body covering yours as he uses a hand to shield you. 
"What?"
His tone is low, pointed, "We're not alone."
You peek through the gap between his other arm and the wall. Sure enough, under one of the red lights down the hall, there stands a figure. You think it must be Rabbit Lady. Though, she looks different. 
Covered in shadow, it's hard to make out her features, but her build looks much bulkier than usual. More like Bonnie. It's decrepit as well.
Gaps in her costume that look like they've been torn away, small strands of something poking out at odd angles in spots. Her eyes are two small, purple pupils which stare you down. 
A sound from the opposite end of the hall, you both turn to see another shadowed individual standing at the edge of the light. This one, you don't know who, or what they are. Also bulky, but more human in stature. One of their hands is a giant claw though, and their pigtails look like they're made of thick cables and not hair. Their pupils are green.
There's a smell of smoke in the air. But it's, faded.
"Unlock the door," Sun mutters.
 You nod shakily and fumble in your pocket for the keycard. No movement from anyone. You slowly start to raise the keycard by your side.
There's a noise from down the hall. Rabbit lady-that has to her right? what who else could it be?-has taken a step forward. A sound from the other side of the hall. Pigtails has also taken a step.
In a moment's hesitation, you drop your keys and they clatter to the floor. 
"Shit-"
Both figures start rushing towards you and you fumble to snatch up your keys in time. Just as you grab them Sun takes hold of you to shelter you. You hear both of them rush closer and realize it's too late.
You squeeze your eyes shut when there's a loud noise of something booting up. Opening your eyes, you find the lights are back on, and the figures are gone. Like they were never there in the first place. Like,
"Ghosts..." You whisper. 
Sum murmurs in agreement at first, then shakes his head.
"Ghosts aren't real." He states, releasing you.
"Okay then how do you explain that?" You motion to how the hallway is completely empty save for the two of you.
His rays click, "I can't. But we don't have time for this, hurry now, before it's too late."
You huff, but nod, unlocking the door and rushing inside. 
Fazerblast is up and running, and you spy everyone gathered around in the center of the arena. The contest hasn’t started yet. More importantly you spy,
"Freddy!" You rush over, Sun in tow. 
He turns to face you both, zombie costume doing nothing to hide his friendly demeanor, "Hello Y/N! Hello Sun! What are you both doing here? Have you come to join laser tag?"
"I, you, you're okay?" You're slightly out of breath, and confused. Very confused. 
His brows furrow, "Well of course, should I not be?"
"Friend, you're not on the FECN," Sun steps forward and puts his hand on the shorter bot's shoulder, "No one could contact you, we were all so worried!"
Freddy's eyes widen, "Ah, I forgot! Lizzy removed my access for the time being to save my battery for the competition! It will be restored once it is over."
You feel a bit relieved, and you can tell by how Sun's posture relaxes he does too. But still, you need clarification.
"Chica said you haven't been yourself lately, would that be why?"
The bear looks down, hand coming up to scratch his neck, "I... have not been charging properly the past few days due to improper power flow to the charging station. I was so focused on preparing that I did not realize I wasn't getting enough rest until they informed me of the issue. I am sorry for making you all worry."
"No trouble at all, Friend!" Sun steps back to stand beside you, "We're just glad you're alright!"
Sometimes you forget how nice he can be. Your eyes a squint as he puts a hand on your shoulder. But then you snap out of it and shake your head, turning back to the bear in front of you.
"So wait, would that be what caused the issues with the staff bots? Just faulty charging stations?" The fact that it's not related to the previous issues, that it's not even a glitch, has you relieved.
"Not quite."
You turn, and see Lizzy standing there, holding something covered by a white cloth. Their hair is manic, and they're covered in cobwebs and grime from head to toe. You cringe, at least they're wearing coveralls. 
They approach, "Figured out the source of all our issues. Want to take a guess?"
"Have anything to do with that there?" You nod to the white sheet. 
"Oh yeah."
They remove the sheet, revealing a cage filled with-
"Mice?" You and Sun both question. 
Lizzy looks ready to lose their mind, "Yup. I know. Turns out, there's a crawlspace behind where all the machinery is for this place and these little guys," They lift the cage, "Decided to make it their home. Then when they got tired of that, they thought that the generators running Fazerblast would make for a great sub-division to their mousey-neighborhood. You have no idea the number of mice nests I've cleared out of there. Not to mention the number of wires I'm going to have to finish replacing that they chewed through."
"So, it's not related to the mechanics, or the software at all," You say in awe, "Just the power, and some mice."
"And some mice," Lizzy repeats, sighing, "So, so many mice."
You look up to Sun, he looks down to you.
"Huh." "Huh."
You're half out of it when you stumble back into the party upstairs. You brought the Attendant with you because, well you don't really know but you're both here now.
You find your friends in front of the stage, who greet you as you arrive. 
"Long time for a drink," Bri quips, "You get lost?"
You laugh weakly, "Something like that."
"You're just in time for the contest results!" Liv exclaims before turning back to the stage.
You sigh, leaning back onto the bot behind you, not caring if it bothers him, "Oh goody."
Sun huffs, but allows you to stay leaning against him while Abby gives her brief spiel on stage before announcing the runner ups and then the winners.
"And in second place, in a surprise entry, but with many votes, we have the Daycare Attendant! Congratulations, Sun!"
People start cheering and clapping and you stand straight, shocked.
"You're joking."
Abby speaks up again, "And in third place, with their killer Frankenstein's monster costume, Y/N!"
"You're joking."
Sun snickers quietly behind you as the two of you are ushered onto the stage beside your friend. You do your best to hide your complete and utter disbelief and frustration.
You're handed a sack of chocolate coins, you're too mad to pay attention to what Sun's prize is. His head is held high, waving and posing and it makes you want to throttle him.
Abby clears he throat, "But of course, we still have first place, which goes to, none other than the other Daycare Attendant, Moon!"
"What."
You bust out laughing, and continue to do so as the lights dim to only a few blue and purple ones remaining, allowing the Naptime Attendant to claim his prize. After the ups and downs of tonight, you'd consider this a pretty good way to end it.
"So," You pop another chocolate coin in your mouth, "You don't think those were ghosts?"
You're sitting on the floor of the Daycare, an hour or so later. Halloween night isn't over yet, but it's starting to wind down. A few straggling kids run through the Daycare here and there, and Mia and Carter are finishing out with the trick or treaters. 
Your sister is asleep, laying partly in your lap. Gabe is still awake, but his eyes are drooping as he plays blocks with Sun. 
The Attendant looks up from his task, scoffing, "Don't be ridiculous, of course they weren't."
"Okay, well we aren't in a panic situation anymore, so give me an explanation."
His rays spin, staring at you, then glances back down to your brother, "I don't have one."
"Ha!"
"Yet. There's a logical explanation to what we saw, I'm sure of it." He shakes his head a smidge, muttering, "There must be..."
You crumple the gold wrapper in your hand, flicking it so it hits square in the middle of his faceplate, "Well, we thought Rabbit Lady was causing the glitches, and it was just a couple of mice, so I guess anything is possible."
He nods. Then, reaches behind him, holding out two items stacked on top of each other. A folded up t-shirt, and a mug. The second and first place prizes for the costume contest, respectively.
"Here. These are useless to us. You should have them."
You're, incredibly surprised.
"I, wouldn't you want to give them to someone like Bri? Or maybe one of the kids?" Sure it was just silly prizes, but still. It's, kind of flattering? You don’t know how to feel, really.
Sun shakes his head, urging you to grab the items, "You're the only one that makes sense. Take them before I change my mind on the shirt."
"Okay, okay," You do, and after maneuvering around your sleeping sister, switch out your coat and undershirt for the orange t-shirt. It has print on it for 'Fazbear Frights'. You forgot that attraction even existed until you saw the shirt.
You finish putting it on and fix your hair, "Well?" 
Sun stares down at you, rays clicking. You raise a brow. 
"You know, I think it probably would look better on me."
You gasp, and he snickers, narrowly dodging your hand as you swat at him, before hitting him with more crumpled wrappers that were laying around, ignoring his complaints about needing to 'clean up'. 
All in all, not a bad Halloween. 
Maybe, just maybe, one of the best.
Maybe.
🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃☀️🎃🌙🎃
And there you have it, my written spooky month content is done! I have to finish my trick or treat asks, but that'll be it. Though, there is of course, the OTHER things on the spookvember schedule, wonder what they could possibly be referrring to?? 🤔🤔
Ah, you'll find out soon enough, thanks for reading!!
Also, before I go, THE GHOSTS ARE JUST GHOSTS AND HAVE NO DEEPER MEANING IN RELATION TO CONFUSED SPIRIT, they're just here to add to the suspense and the spookiness I promise
on another note totally DONT read into that pause from Sun
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girlsounnerving · 2 days ago
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The curtains are never just blue and i feel like i gotta yap about the last scene of season 2 act 1 of arcane!!
As always ignore the screenshot quality i am taking photos of my tv lol
This is about Caitlyn’s illusion of power and who that scene was subtly directing the power towards, and indications of what i think is gonna happen with Caitlyn’s character arc in s2
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After Ambessa brings Caitlyn to the head of the room, she’s level with Piltover, some buildings are even above her. Caitlyn is an enforcer of justice, previously uninterested by the power and influence their entire family name has. Caitlyn’s goal was to protect the people and set aside her family name to serve Piltover, constantly fighting her mother against becoming a member of council or council adjacent.
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Ambessa comes up behind her, but where Caitlyn is level with the city, Ambessa rises above it. It’s written in Piltover’s profile on the LOL universe page that “its power comes not through military might, but the engines of commerce and forward thinking”. Where Caitlyn previously conformed to Piltover, leveling with its ethos, Ambessa, from Noxus, most definitely does not.
This is a key difference between Piltover and Noxus, which the show hasn’t covered (yet?). Noxus is notably brutal, but more than that, Noxus builds and is built up of opportunists. “Anyone can rise to a position of power and respect within Noxus if they display the necessary aptitude, regardless of social standing, background, homeland, or wealth” (another quote from Noxus’ profile on the LOL universe page)
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Finally, once Ambessa appoints Caitlyn to her new role, we get this shot where now Caitlyn is looking over Piltover, abandoning her morals in pursuit of revenge. She is level with one building, a Noxian building to her right, indicative of her power, but not her control. Noxus and Ambessa’s influence will be what controls- or tries to control Caitlyn. To her left, there is a Piltover building that ends up standing just below her, not quite level with her. Caitlyn can still be good, and [i believe] there will be a limit of how far she will go. When she turns, she turns in the direction of the leftward piltover building, ultimately indicating her allegiance and real morals beyond those of grief and anger — though Caitlyn is levelling with Noxian values now, she won’t completely abandon HER values, which are biased and shaped by Piltover.
Ok yeah just had to get that out if it’s barely coherent it’s because im going insane!!! Arcane writes their characters incredibly and compositionally it is a masterpiece!!!!!
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