#and that last part. that's the most important part
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surprise encounter 🤍 sylus 秦
pairing: sylus x reader
summary: You’ve been playing love&deepspace ever since the game came out and it became your comfort place now. You like all of the boys, but you have the highest affinity with sylus, who had your heart in a grasp ever since the beginning. Who would’ve thought that he shares the sentiment? And after your monthly absence from the game, he decides to pay you a little visit and finally confess to all of it (and maybe try to kidnap you in the process too).
tropes: fluff, angst to fluff, fluff to angst to fluff? fluff to angst to fluff to angst to fluff???? idk angst with happy ending!
word count: no idea, it goes on for days sorry
warning!: i apologize for any mistakes, i am not a native speaker of english!! if you see any errors you can write me a dm and i will correct them for sure ♡ and i think it gets better later! i can’t write for shi, especially the beginnings, and the second part was fueled by my delulu so it is probably much more fun to read 🤍
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You liked days like these: quiet days, lazy ones, when you didn’t have any errands to run, meetings to attend, or people to please. You could just stay inside for the whole day, reading your favorite books and playing cozy games, spending your time however you wanted. Today was Saturday and you didn’t have to go to work until Monday and you decided that you finally deserved to have some rest after the last couple of weeks of almost working yourself to the bone due to the amount of the assingments you had to complete at work. You often had to stay after hours or work from home to complete everything in time. Your work was not usually that challenging, but there were certain times of the year when everyone at your job had their hands full and when it happened, you were almost completely cut off not only from your social, but also personal life. However, you never complained, because you actually liked what you were doing, and even if the occasional hard times were inevitable, your work brought you so much fun and satisfaction.
And today was a good day! You finally finished everything you had to do, so you could go back to your favourite game. You didn’t have time to play recently due to the amount of work, up to the point that you didn’t even bother to check in to grab some stamina. Usually, love&deepspace was an important part of your day - you logged in there at least twice a day, completed every task thrown your way and had a blast doing so, but these couple of weeks were so hard for you that you almost forgot about it completely. But even if you were too busy, you thought about the boys from time to time, as well as about the events that you were probably missing out on. You really hoped that if some new events had taken place during that time, that they did not involve Sylus, because if you had missed them, you would be slightly devastated.
Sylus was your favorite. Ever since the beginning, there was something about him that caught your attention. You downloaded the game after his announcement and haven’t looked back since. You played with other boys as well, but your time with Sylus was always the most memorable. Not only was he extremely attractive in your eyes, as well as the eyes of other players around the world, but you also understood his character, adored his little jokes and mannerisms, and could safely say that he made your life a little more exciting. You knew that it probably sounded lame to someone who didn’t play such games, and you were aware that he wasn’t real, but you enjoyed yourself regardless. In your real life, you had some experience with men and were pretty popular among them; however, you never felt comfortable enough to form more serious romantic relationships.
Here, with Sylus, you didn’t have to worry about such things. You were aware that he was only a game character and maybe that was why you were so honest with him from the very beginning. You knew that he wouldn’t judge you, misstreat you or make you miserable - he was created in a way that was supposed to make your playthrough enjoyable so you didn’t have to worry about your responses in the messages for him or your real life reactions to everything he said or did. You could just be yourself. And you loved how freeing that felt.
That is why you felt so excited ever since you woke up. Because you knew that today you could finally go back to playing l&d, and you could meet up with your Sylus after so much time apart. You quickly did your chores, spent some time on self-care to slightly relieve the fatigue from the weeks before, you put on your favourite cozy outfit and finally clicked the ”enter game” button.
And there he was. Sylus was standing in the cafe, wearing his extremally attractive biker outfit and you caught yourself sighing dreamily at the sight of him. You missed him so bad, you missed the little memories you shared and the sound of his voice. You missed playing kitty cards with him, catching plushies together and even looking for that bastard Tobias again and again. You couldn’t help but smile brightly at him.
“Hi Sylus, you have no idea how happy I am to see you.” You said cheerfully, feeling kind of dumb for it but you couldn’t help yourself. You often talked out loud to him during your playtime.
You watched him blink slowly once, then twice, and you started to think that there was something wrong with the server because his response should have already been uttered. But then the look on his face changed. At first, he appeared really shocked and relieved, but then a little frown appeared between his perfect little eyebrows.
“Where the hell have you been?” He responded quickly and it shocked you. You didn’t know that they could swear in the game, but after connecting some dots you figured that it had to be included in the special responses after the player was away for some time.
“At work mostly, been so busy lately but now I’m back and ready to defeat some Wanderers!!” You fist bumped the air above you, you couldn’t contain your excitement.
You also noticed that his expression stayed the same. He was silent, looking at you through your phone screen with bewilderment, and he looked almost hurt. In an attempt to provide some comfort to him, you swiped your finger gently through his hair and across his cheek. However, when you touched his cheek, he closed his eyes and nuzzled into your finger, which made you widen your eyes in surprise. Was that always a thing? Was he always so responsive to your touch? It had to be a new feature; you didn’t remember him being so lively.
“Next time you decide to leave me without a word, I think I’m going to take more drastic measures, sweetie” He said while opening his eyes. You couldn’t help but notice he did look different than usual. More… realistic? Even the way in which he moved his body looked so smooth.
“If not for Mephisto, I would have worried sick about your safety. You can't do this to me every time you have more work than usual; you have to visit me, even if it's just for a minute. I won't exaggerate when I say that I almost went insane after the first week of your cruel silence” And at that you were completely stunned. Should he talk this much? He never talked this much. And how could he know that you had more work than usual? Was that a lucky guess on the studio’s side?
“That’s so weird…” You whispered and touched his hand to trigger some kind of reaction that would appear more usual than what was happening right now.
“Is that your way of catching me of guard? If you wanted to hold my hand so badly kitten, then you would have visited me sooner. I will not let myself be distracted by your cute little behavior” He raised the hand you touched and crossed his arms at his chest, while continuing to frown. And you were still so, so confused.
“Promise me that you won’t leave me again, I know where to find you now.” You raised your eyebrows and bit your lip gently. You started to feel a little bit out of place, you knew that he was not real, but he sounded kind of scary. His voice was demanding, and the part about him finding you? You shivered involuntarily.
“What happened? Cat got your tongue, kitten? Or did you finally understood the selfishness of your actions?” Sylus continued and you opened your mouth in awe. “Promise. Me.” He said slowly, his gaze unnerving. Suddenly you heard a series of loud caws outside on your balcony. The sound made you jump in place, and you dropped your phone on your bed. Was that a freaking crow?? Outside your apartament???
You quickly picked up your phone and cursed softly. You were going insane. You got scared just because the game had an update you did not know about. You almost wanted to laugh at how stupid that was. Almost. Because Sylus walked up to the front of your phone screen and spoke to you again.
“Why are you hesitating? Are you really planning to leave me again?” You swore you never heard him so hurt.
“No!” You said before you could think.
“No?” He answered immediately, which scared the hell out of you. “I am not sure I believe you. And I can’t stand it. I can’t stand being away from you anymore.” He took two steps back and closed his eyes.
That was when the game crashed. Your phone appeared to be broked too, after the colourful lines appeared on the screen, flickered a couple of times and the whole screen turned black. You threw the device away from you and your heart started beating so fast you could hear the blood pulsing in your ears. You were so confused and genuinely scared. Was there an update that switched the genre of the game to horror? You were stunned.
And then you heard the knock.
You almost jumped out of your slippers. You brought your hand to your heart in order to calm yourself down and you started taking slow, deep breaths. It’s just a game. It’s just a game. Besides, how did Sylus, of all people, managed to scare you so badly? You adored that character, and you should know that he was prone not only to exaggeration, but also to intimidating appearance. That was literally one of his characteristics. So you forced yourself to calm down and opened the damn door, because it was probably a mailman, or one of your friendly neighbors, and here you were making a scene like a complete psychopath.
One. Two. Three.
You opened the door, and at first all you could see was a huge cloud of black mist. You closed your eyes in order to keep the mist from clouding your vision and then you felt wind pushing you gently further into your apartament. You heard the door close and the sound of the key turning in the lock. Everything happened so fast. And when you opened your eyes your knees almost buckled.
Sylus.
Sylus was all you could see. He was standing in front of you, in your own apartament, looking so out of place that you wanted to laugh. The first thing that you noticed about him was that he was huge, you couldn’t really see past him, and the more you looked at him, the more real he appeared to be. Soft-looking silver hair, rugged skin, that perfect nose and those piercing eyes. They looked into yours now, and at first they seemed to be searching for something, and after one quick second they visibly softened. You could also see how his handsome, oh so handsome mouth started to display his signature little smirk. And that was when you started to tremble.
“W-wha—” You tried to say something, anything but your mouth was not working. You have never been so confused and scared in your entire life. “Who—W-who are—” He was starting to close the distance between you and that is when the panic finally took over your body. You flinched and went to take a step back, but you slipped on your soft carpet.
Yet you didn’t fall. You felt the gentle caress of the mist that managed to caught you before you hit the ground, and it streightened your posture so that now you stood tall in front of the man.
“Careful kitten, I do not think that falling on four feet applies to you.” He spoke out loud for the first time and the voice was so familiar to you. It was the same, deep, husky timbre that you loved to hear, the same voice that made you squeal in happiness, that lulled you to sleep countless of times. You couldn’t believe it.
“Oh my god, am I dead?” He laughed softly at your reaction and looked at you through his lashes. “This can’t be happening.”
”Oh but it is. I knew that I would find my way to you, I just needed time.” He said and tried to close the distance between you, but you didn’t let him. Every step forward he took, you took one back. “It was so hard to find you. But after you disappeared without saying a word I think I got desperate.” Something flashed in his eyes. You recognized it as determination.
He stopped walking when he noticed that you were getting too close to the balcony. He straightened his posture, and you almost released a gasp. He was huge. And he was real. Alive and so, so real, that you had trouble breathing. You were so scared, but at the same time, so happy to see him, that your body didn’t know how it should react. You just looked at him, taking him in, trying to assess whether it wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you, or if it wasn’t some random man breaking into your apartment and your brain had created a new, fantastic defense mechanism. But no, the longer you took him in, the more similarities you managed to notice: the scar in the corner of his eye, his unevenly clipped fingernails, strong but dry hands, olive skin, slim lips, long, slightly furrowed eyebrows. The not-so-hidden gentleness in his gaze as he was taking you in himself.
“It’s really you.” You managed to breathe out.
“You’re so beautiful.” He answered and his voice was slowly starting to make you feel these similar butterflies. “So, so magnificent.” He continued. You felt your cheeks heat up and he seemed to drink that reaction in. “Will you talk to me more? You sound angelic. I did not think that you could sound even better than you did through the phone but I guess you will never fail to surprise me, sweetheart.” He did not move an inch. He just looked at you, and you still didn’t know how to react, but you were slowly coming to terms with the fact that it was not a weird dream. He was here and he didn’t appear to have bad intentions. At least you wanted to believe that.
“You’re still trembling. Are you really that scared of me?” He pressed his lips into a line.
“I’m sorry. I just… I’m just not sure what is happening. I had no idea you were… real.” He laughed softly at that.
“You wound me, kitten. Is that your way of unleashing your little claws?” He continued with a small smile on his lips and you couldn’t take it. He looked… stressed. And you thought that was new for him. You spend so many hours playing with him in l&d but you have never seen him so stressed.
Everything that came out of his mouth was slow and precise, not a word was spoken without a purpose. However you could see by his appearance that he was uncertain.
“Of course I’m real. And all the time we spent together is real too. Was it so wrong of me to expect that you would be at least a little bit happier to see me?” He was starting to look hurt. But not angry, not displeased. More concerned than anything, and that was when most of your worries started to disappear. He was your Sylus. He really was.
“I am happy to see you. I really am.” You said truthfully, the fear slowly dissolving. “What are you doing here? How did it happen?.”
“When you left me, I was worried to death. I had to come see that you were alright for myself.” He said, not taking his eyes from you. “I found a path between our worlds, and first I sent Mephisto after you. And that was how I knew you were fine, just busy.” He started explaining slowly and put two fingers at the bridge of his nose. This gesture was so familiar that you felt a slight pang in your chest. “Which l understand. But you stopped visiting completely and I panicked that I lost you. And that you lost your interest in me. And when you logged in today I guess I just lost control over myself.”
“I had to see you. I had to feel you. I needed to know that you will never leave me like that again. But how could I be so sure if you thought I was not real, sweetie?” His voice carried a hint of a ridicule. He smirked slowly and you allowed yourself to relax. You spend so much time with him on your phone, that you knew when he really needed reassurance. And it was the first time you saw him being so honest about his own feelings.
You decided to step closer to him and his eyes widened slightly. His body tightened because of the sudden change in proximity, and when you gently touched his hand, bringing it to your mouth, he appeared to be rendered speechless.
“I would never leave you, Sy. At least not without saying goodbye first. You are my safe space, remember?” You said quietly and smiled at him brightly, reminding him of what you had written in your game bio. And then you brought his knuckles to your lips and placed a soft kiss upon them. His hands were much warmer than you expected them to be. They felt harsh, but gentle.
The next thing you heard was a soft grunt and you felt yourself suddenly being lifted in the air. You yelped and found yourself pressed against his big, solid chest. Sylus hugged your body to his by wrapping both of his arms around your torso, and when he realized that you weren’t comfortable, he put one hand under your thighs and brought your body to his by your waist. You let your arms wrap around his neck and squeezed, and he buried his head in the crook of your neck. You heard him inhale your scent and his breath became rigged, as if he could not contain his excitement. You also became familiar with his scent. He smelled so manly and comforting, you could catch some notes of wood and leather, and something surprisingly sweet.
“You smell divine. You’re so soft, so warm.” He breathed against your neck and you felt goosebumps spreading throughout your whole body. You were so embarrassed, you felt like you needed to release some tension.
“I did not expect you to be so open with me. You’re usually the teasing type.” He chucked deeply and put his forehead against yours, while closing his eyes. Your cheeks burned. You couldn’t believe it wasn’t a dream.
“There will be a time for teasing you, kitten.” He rubbed his forehead against yours slowly. “Right now let me enjoy you for a bit. I can’t believe I finally got to see you.” He squeezed you harder to him. You reciprocated the hug with all you had. You were actually kind of scared that your grip was too hard, but he seemed to bask in it. “Communicating through that small device was not nearly enough for me. I could always see you and I heard your little responses to everything I was saying. But it took me some time to figure out how to change some things up.” Your eyes went wide at the mention of your reactions, you knew that a lot of times there were beyond embarrassing but you decided your blush to speak for itself. But what truly caught your attention was how he managed to appear in your home.
“Change things up?? You must have made such a mess, will it really be okay?” The concern in your voice made him look up and find your eyes with his. You were now looking at his beautiful red eyes, so full of adoration and determination. You could see that the consequences of his actions did not matter to him at all.
“Sweetie, I would gladly burn the world down for you, even if it meant that I could see you just once.” You swallowed audibly and proceeded to shy away from his piercing gaze. You started to feel unworthy of such attention, you couldn’t quite grasp what exactly made him care about you to such extend. “Fortunately for everyone, the process did not involve starting an intergalactic war.” He smirked slowly, his eyes finding your lips and staying there for much longer than necessary. “Yet.”
You chuckled at that and proceeded to bury your fingers in his hair, stroking the strands with care. They were so soft to the touch, they reminded you of silk. He closed his eyes and let you touch him to your heart’s content. Your hand quickly found its way to his forehead, and then to his cheek, stroking the skin delicately. You couldn’t believe how someone so handsome could really exist.
“See something you like, kitten?” He said and nuzzled into your palm, pressing a kiss right there. ”You will have all the time in the world to touch me, when we arrive in the N109 Zone.” He seemed so peaceful, so content with himself, but the mention of the N109 Zone stopped you in your tracks. You tensed visibly and he opened his eyes, noticing the change in your posture.
“The N109 Zone?” You asked puzzled. “Are you taking me away for a weekend?” You took your hand from his face and he used his Evol to bring it back to his cheek. The mist around your fingers felt weird, but not unpleasant.
“For a weekend? No, no.” He locked his eyes with yours, his head slowly closing the distance between you. He licked his lips and looked at your mouth once again. “I am taking you away forever.” And before his lips managed to touch yours, you flinched. Your hands quickly pushed him away and the panic returned to your features.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I meant what I said. Pack your bags if you believe there is something that I cannot provide for you quickly enough, and we will be off shortly.” He said matter of factly, kind of annoyed by the distance you decided to put between you. “Luke and Kieran have already prepared a room for you, although I think that you will have more than enough space for your belongings in mine.” His eyes brightened with excitement that you unfortunately could not share. Instead, you lightly pushed his torso, making him lower you to the ground grudgingly. His brows were once again furrowed.
“I can’t go with you Sylus. At least, not for forever”
“You can. We can stay together for the rest of our lives and no one would have any objections. I took care of everything.” He reached to grab your forearm and stroked it softly with his thumb. He was so sure of everything he was saying, that you could feel how much he let himself get lost in his fantasy. It did make you feel wanted, loved even. But no matter how happy you were that he was real, and apparently shared your feelings, you couldn’t agree to his plan.
“No, Sylus. I need to stay here, I have built my whole life in this place.” You could feel how much your words shocked him. He was looking at you so puzzled as if he didn’t think that you declining his offer was even an option. “I can’t leave everything that I managed to achieve, I really am content with my life, despite how complicated it can be.” You said truthfully. A part of you wanted to go with him, to feel safe and cherished for, for the rest of your life but you knew that was not realistic. You wanted to achieve more, you wanted to have your own life and your own space. You needed to be independent, to feel that you were perfectly capable of caring for yourself and your own needs.
“I do not understand. Don’t you want to be with me?” It pained you how quickly he jumped to that conclusion. And you hated the look on his face - it made you feel like you were betraying him.
”I do want to! Oh my god— I really, really do want to Sylus. I don’t think that I can live without spending time with you anymore.” You smiled at him, and took hold of his huge, rugged hand. “But I can’t live with you in the N109 Zone. I can’t leave my whole life behind.” And the fact that he wanted to make you do that somewhat scared you. Made you feel distressed.
“I see.” He sounded deep in thought. Then, he broke the eye contact for a second, looked at his hand in your hold and before you could even react, he grabbed your body gently with his Evol and picked you up. Your whole body was above ground and although you felt secured, you looked at him with surprise.
“What are you doing?” You wanted to get free from the hold of the mist, but it was impossible with how tight it was. “Sylus, you have to let me go.” You tried not to panic, you knew that you weren’t in danger. But he looked relentless, unforgiving as if his mind was already set in stone.
“No. I can’t. Not now when I finally got to have you.” He looked up at you, with his eyebrows still furrowed, and you could hear a hint of a growl in his voice. “If you do not wish to go with me, I guess I would have to take you by force.”
It was then that you felt a sense of panic. You knew him, and you knew that if he wants something, he always gets it. It just did not cross your mind that he would ever go against your own wishes.
“No. No, no, no, Sylus, please calm down.” He narrowed his eyes and stood almost motionless before you, devoid of almost any emotion. Almost, if not for the desperation shining through his movements. “You cannot take me away. At least not for now. But I will do anything you ask me to! You can also stay here for some time, and visit me whenever you want to, I swear, I would be so happy to have you.” You just needed him to listen. You knew that you could change his mind, he always listened to what you had to say, he just needed a little bit of persuasion. Maybe he didn’t even think about alternative options?
“And I would make you happy in the N109 Zone with me.” You laughed with disbelief. He was completely missing your point. You decided to once again yank your hands from the grasp of his mist, and then hissed with pain when it did not loosen up its hold. “Your struggle is futile, please stop, I do not wish for you to get hurt.” He was annoyed with you and your disobedience. He did not think that you would have any objections, he started loosing his cool.
“You would never let me get hurt.” You answered, wanting to assure yourself of it as well. You didn’t like how commanding he sounded.
“Yes.” There was no doubt in his voice. “Yes, you know I would stop at nothing to protect you.” His gaze never wavered from yours. He truly thought that what he was doing was for the best. And you just had to let him know how wrong his approach was.
“Yes! Yes I do know that! Because I know you, Sy.” You started to sound as if you were pleading. Deep down it scared you, send uncomfortable shivers down your spine. “I know you, and I know that you also know me.”
He placed his hand on his heart.
“And I adore every single piece of information. And I still wish to know you much, much better.” You tensed when you noticed that his right eye was starting to glow. You did not know if that was intentional, or just a trick of the light.
“Then you MUST know how much this life means to me. How much I like my stupid job, and how much I love the people that are here for me. My friends, my family.” You noticed that your reasoning started to get to him when he clenched his fists and avoided your eyes for a second. “And you have to know how much it would hurt me if you were to take me away from them.” He appeared taken aback. It seemed that his longing for you clouded his judgement, and now he started to notice the faults in his plan.
“But I cannot stand to be apart from you anymore, sweetie.” In normal circumstances that would be so touching to you. But nothing about this situation was normal, and you guessed you just had to show him how normal looked like.
“You won’t be. You can visit me anytime you want. Stay for how long you want.” You wanted that too. So bad.
“But that is not ENOUGH.” It was the first time you heard his raised voice and you started to tremble. His outburst must’ve thrown him off guard too, because he wavered and the grip he had on you loosed. You acted instinctively. You freed yourself from the mist and started to run towards your door. And although he was stunned by your reaction, he quickly teleported so that you ran straight into his chest. His hands grabbed yours in order to protect you from falling due to the impact.
He gently caressed your now slightly red forehead and sighed loudly. You could hear that he was hurt. You cried out from frustration.
“If you really thought that you could run away from me then you must be a total fool.” He tucked your hair behind your ear and lifted your chin up with his finger. “Usually I like playing cat and mouse with you, but I do not like the fact that you appear genuinely scared of me right now.” He hugged your waist and brought you closer to him, lowering his head at the same time. “And that you tried to run away from me when I only want to offer you my protection.”
“It doesn’t sound like protection, it sounds like imprisonment.” You used strong words, but you sounded so small. You did not know what to do with him, you were so scared. ”I’m just scared. I tried to run away because you scared me, Sylus.” You sounded desperate for him to understand you. To look past his own clouded vision.
“You do not have to fear me. I just want what is best for you. For us.” His grip on your waist tightened, and he also proceeded to grab your wrist.
“No. You only want what is best for you. You are not listening to me. I do care about you Sylus, but I cannot leave this place.” You tried to stand your ground but you two never argued before. It was an unfamiliar ground to you, especially when it was the first time that you had a conversation in person. Everything felt more intense and dangerous when you remembered the extreme measures he was always willing to take to achieve his goals.
“You can. And I will make you leave.” He almost growled and a cloud of black and red mist surrounded both of you, and that was enough to bring tears into your eyes.
”Sylus, no, please, I don’t want to. Please, just listen to me, please.” And it was at that moment he started to came into his senses. Your quiet voice and your eyes full of tears made his breathing stop. It was the first time he was seeing you react like this. He hated how broken you sounded. How small. “I’m so scared, Sy, please stop scaring me.” Your voice sounded choked and you could feel that the tears started streaming down your face. Every single one physically hurt him. It was your first meeting and he already made you so miserable. He wanted to scream. “Please.” You tried once again and it shocked you that it finally worked on him.
He tensed and released you from his grip. The mist also dissipated as he took a step back from you. You could hear him breathing deeply.
“I cannot do this." He sounded panicked. “I did not want to scare you, and I cannot listen to your little broken pleas. They break my heart.” He hidden his face in his hands and curled in himself. He felt as if someone pierced his heart with a knife and twisted it. He could not bring himself to look at your beautiful heartbroken face again. “They really do. Please, just stop crying. You won.”
You sniffed softly and touched your wet cheeks. You tried to calm yourself down, he finally listened to you.
“It does not feel so good this time for some reason.” You answered, referring to your Kitty Card battles. You wanted to relieve the tension somehow. You knew that he didn’t want to hurt you, you understand that he lives in a different reality where danger awaits everywhere. You could understand why he wanted to have you beside him at all times. But it scared you how insistent he was, how brutal and final. “Do you really understand why I got so scared?”
He nodded helplessly. “I won’t steal you away. Not when I know how much you despise the idea of spending the rest of your time with me.” You noticed how hard he was pressing his hands to his face and you grabbed them in your own. He let you uncover his eyes and you saw how much it hurt him to let you go.
“Oh, Sy.” You whispered and hugged his hands to your chest. “You know that’s not the reason.”
“Stop calling me that. It drives me crazy.” He breathed and met your eyes. “You drive me crazy. What am I going to do with you? How can I make sure you are safe now?” You took his hands and made him follow you into your bedroom. You sat on your bed and urged him to do the same. This way you could finally talk with him more comfortably.
“Sylus, we have to talk about it.” You squeezed his hands and he looked at yours and took notice of how much smaller they were in comparison to his. So fragile, so breakable. He couldn’t stand it. His whole body longed to protect you. “I do not despise the idea of spending my time with you. I just can’t randomly leave everything I know and love. And this world is different from the one you know, we have our dangers but no one wants my head.” You explained to him slowly. “There are no Wanderers. No protocores.” He looked conflicted.
“I already know that sweetheart. I do. But when you disappeared for such a long time I couldn’t help but think that something bad happened to you” he gritted through his teeth. “I nearly lost my mind looking for you everywhere. It was terrifying, that thought in my mind and the idea that I would never have another chance to speak with you. To see you.” He touched your forearms and brought you a little closer to him. “And when Mephisto found you safe and sound I thought that I never want to feel that fear, that helplessness again. And the only way to do that is to keep you beside me at all times. To guard you with my own body and soul.” He took your hand and rested it on his chest. You could feel the fast and steady rhythm of his heart. You could feel his desperation, his complete devotion. And it almost made you tear up.
“I-I’m so sorry that I made you worry this much.” He studied your face with intention and you shake your head. “But I didn’t even know that you were real. I really though it was just a game that made me feel less alone and now…” You swallowed audibly. “Now I know that everything I built with you during our time together was very much real and I’m still having trouble to wrap my head around it to be honest.” I smiled at him softly and he nodded with understanding.
“And then you came in and wanted to kidnap me to a world much more dangerous than mine where I do not have my close ones and—“
“I did NOT mean for that to be a kidnapping I though that you shared my sentiment, and also wanted to spend some time—“
“SOME time?? Sylus you wanted me to switch literal worlds and live with you in your freaking villa in the middle of nowhere—”
”I live in an apartment that has a fantastic location, mind you, and you would feel so comfortable in—“
”Apartament??? You cannot possibly be a freaking leader of Onychinus and live in an apartment complex, are you being serious with me right now??”
“Have you ever heard of a saying that the darkest place is under the candlestick, kitten? Besides there is no one in the whole N109 zone that would pose and actual threat to me—” He cut off when he met your eyes full of laughter, and then he heard that beautiful sound. You burst into giggles right in front of him and you touched him by the bicep and brought his forehead to yours. He couldn’t help but chuckle too, understanding the absurdity of the situation. Feeling your forehead against his, hearing your adorable chuckles and inhaling your sweet scent made him feel so at peace that he closed his eyes to embrace the moment completely. He couldn’t believe that he almost ruined your relationship by being so selfish.
“I missed this. This back and forth with you” You said and he chucked deeply. “I really am happy to see you, Sy. And I swear that we will be able to talk and spent time with each other more often now. And actually see each other in person.” He nuzzled into your face more and you caught his smirk by the corner of your eye. “We can stay in touch at all times, so that you won’t have to worry about my safety so much.”
“So bossy, kitten.” He answered, but the small smile did not leave his face. He couldn’t make it go away even if he tried. “Forgive me for scaring you earlier. I was not thinking straight. I was just so elated to finally have you in my arms that I let my selfishness get the best of me, and for that I’m sorry. I did not want to ruin our first meeting, sweetie.” You hugged him by bringing your arms around his chest and he closed his eyes drinking in the proximity. You were too small, too adorable, too attractive for him to take it. Too honest. Too lovable. Made just for him to adore. To protect.
“You did not ruin anything.” You said into his shirt, hugging him tighter. “I understand you, Sylus. And I like you a little selfish if it means that’s what brought you to me” He smiled into your hair and reluctantly let go of your fragile frame. He touched your chin and delicately lifted your face up to face him. His eyes were once again drinking you in, committing every single one of your features to his memory. He sighed contentedly.
“Selfishness was not the reason of my visit.” You could see how his eyes softened and you felt your chest squeeze. You brushed his cheek, loving the way how he seemed to relish in your touch. His eyes wandered to your lips: pink, plump and so inviting. “Adoration was. The complete love and devotion that I have felt for you for quite some time now.” You gasped quietly and opened your lips slightly, which didn’t go unnoticed by him.
“Sy—”
“And I guess a little emotional push was what made me finally find my way to you, my beloved.” He half-whispered, leaned in, and pressed his lips to yours, locking you in a sweet, passionate kiss that went on and on, seeming to deepen with every minute you spent in his embrace.
⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙
#love and deepspace sylus#lnds sylus#sylus qin#sylus#sylus x reader#sylus fluff#sylus angst#l&ds sylus#sylus x you#sylus smut#lads sylus#sylus meeting#sylus real meeting#i was going insane#i think i like my men touch-starved#and desperate#and a liiiitle bit emotionally unstable tbh#pls don’t judge#im definitely not a writer#im just a girl with her silly little sylus obsession#eng is not my first language#and thank god for that#i think i have two brains now#and they both think about sylus in an unhealthy amount#welp
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tear you apart
》 mob boss! p.sh x fem. ballerina! reader
》 wc: 3.3k
》 plot: a powerful mob boss becomes dangerously distracted by a captivating ballerina, leading him to abandon an important business deal because of his new obsession. Determined to regain his focus, he confronts her one night after a show, only to find himself even deeper entangled in his desire—and a conflict that could jeopardize everything.
》 content: swan lake ballet, ballerina!reader, mob boss! seonghwa, dom! seonghwa, gloved finger-fucking?? eventual smut
🎧 tear you apart- she wants revenge, sour switchblade- elita, into the woods- bragolin
It was now the final act of the show. Rothbart was defeated, his dark powers broken, and the swan maidens were free at last. In the soft glow of the stage, you and Siegfried danced together, your movements light and delicate, like drifting feathers. Each step felt weightless as you floated through the scene, surrounded by the gentle swell of the orchestra and the dreamy, pearlescent backdrop that bathed everything in a soft, otherworldly light. This was the most serene moment of the entire performance—yet your heart raced wildly in your chest.
Throughout the entire show, a sense of unease gripped you, following your every movement on stage. No matter where you turned or what role you played, you felt his eyes on you, that same piercing, unrelenting gaze that had been following you all season.
Park Seonghwa always sat in the same seat, just a little off-center in the orchestra, ensuring he had the best view of you. Like clockwork, he was here every Saturday night, with his hair slicked back with precision, dressed in a long, black coat that skimmed the floor, and his leather-gloved hands resting motionless on his knees. His eyes followed you all over the stage, studying your every move, every tweak of your brow, his plump lips parted in fascination. His unblinking, stone-cold expression sent shivers down your spine, and yet, you couldn’t deny the intrigue it sparked in you. His observance of you, so focused and ceaseless, made you feel powerful—seen. As if, in his eyes, you were the only ballerina on that stage, the rest of the world fading into irrelevance. You almost looked forward to seeing him in the audience every night, that is, until some whisperings from the other ballerinas during dress rehearsal rattled you.
"A mobster? Really? I thought those only existed in Scorsese movies," one ballerina laughed softly, her eyes darting nervously to the corner where he sometimes lingered after performances.
"It's true!" another whispered eagerly. "He's part of the Park crime family. Remember when they started cracking down on drug trafficking? Then they suddenly dropped all charges. I heard he paid off half the force. And now—well, I hear he’s eyeing the theater as a front for money laundering."
There was more truth to their rumors than they realized. After his father’s sudden departure, Seonghwa had inherited the mantle, becoming the head of the Park family business—a role he’d taken on with cold, unerring resolve. He was trusted to be the new, pragmatic decision-maker, one who wold keep the family business running smoothly. Everything had been going according to plan, right down to choosing an old, run-down theater on the outskirts of town as his next investment.
It was a simple acquisition, one that should have been handled quickly. But one evening, he found himself sitting in the darkened theater, watching intently as you stepped onto the stage in your pearly white tutu, your sculpted legs covered in thick stockings, twirling on your experienced tippy toes, forcing him to wonder how you can move so gracefully while doing something that seemed so painful.
Seonghwa never thought much of performance art; it simply wasn’t his world. His world was dark, brutal, and unforgiving. But from the first graceful movement, and the beautiful melody from the live orchestra, he was captivated with the world of the Swan Lake. You moved with such elegance and emotion that he couldn’t look away, each gesture leaving him more entranced than the last. From that night on, he returned every evening you performed, ignoring his obligations just to see you dance. He became infatuated with the beauty and artistry he hadn’t known could exist.
The original plan was simple: aquire the theater, reshape it into something profitable, and then use the profits to conceal earnings. But now, the thought of disrupting your world was unbearable. Reluctantly, he abandoned the deal, his priorities now twisted by an enchantment he resented.
From that very first performance, you unknowingly unraveled the careful fabric of his plans. Seonghwa found himself slipping away from his duties week after week, drawn back to that same old theater. His associates began to worry, questioning his judgement, but he couldn’t help it. He told himself it was just a curiosity or distraction—anything but the truth. You had enchanted him, woven yourself into his thoughts so deeply that he couldn’t bring himself to go through with the acquisition. Every time he saw you, he was reminded of what he stood to lose.
His associates were quick to notice his shift, whispering about his lack of judgment and uncharacteristic indecision. They urged him to reconsider, to stay grounded—but he felt himself slipping. Trouble was on the horizon; he could sense it. Part of him loathed you for the hold you had over him, for making him slack off from his responsibilities. Yet, night after night, he was drawn back, helpless against the spell you’d cast, unable to break free, and unwilling to let go.
Seonghwa knew he couldn’t keep living like this. His soul was burning hopelessly, and he needed to put out this fire fast.
—
It was quiet now, the theater emptying as the final notes of the orchestra still seemed to hang faintly in the air. You slipped into your dressing room, exhausted yet exhilarated, the glow of the performance still warming you as you changed out of your costume. Carefully, you removed your stage makeup, wiping away the traces of the Swan Queen. The transformation always felt strange, trading feathers and grace for the ordinary routine of going home.
You packed your things slowly, placing each item into your bag with a practiced rhythm, already looking forward to the calm of your apartment. But as you reached for your coat, a prickle of unease returned. It was that lingering feeling, the sensation of being watched, that had haunted you all night.
The silence shattered with a sudden, firm knock on the door, catching you off guard. Your heart raced, and before you could even gather yourself to respond, the door creaked open, slow and deliberate. His face appeared in the dim light, and you caught your breath. It was him.
Seonghwa stepped in just enough for his figure to fill the doorway, his familiar dark coat draping around him like a shadow. His expression was unreadable, the same cold, composed look he always wore, yet his eyes held a strange intensity that made you feel hot.
Your heart pounded as he stood there, with his gaze fixed intently on you. You felt a flicker of fear—a quiet, instinctive warning. Everything about him radiated power, a kind of quiet danger that you couldn’t ignore. Yet, having him so close to you now felt exhilarating, almost like you were waiting for him to knock on your door.
“I hope I’m not intruding,” He apologized, his sharp features now softening in your presence, hoping to disarm you.
“I’m sorry, c-can I help you with something?”
He paced around your small dressing room, his eyes lingering on the little details—your stage makeup scattered across the vanity, the photo frames of other ballerinas lining the walls. Anxiety twisted in your stomach as you watched him, still unsure of why he was here. Then, he turned to you with an unreadable expression, extending his gloved hand. "I just wanted to introduce myself properly," he said, his voice smooth but distant, “Park Seonghwa. I’m from a private equity firm. I know the owner, Hongjoong.” Shakily, you reached out your hand, the leather of his glove feeling cold and unnatural against your skin. You suppressed a shiver as his grip lingered just a second longer than you expected.
“I’m Y/N.”
"Y/N...Congratulations on being this season’s Swan Queen," he continued, his voice low and deliberate. "You’ve done very well. You must be very pleased with yourself."
You managed a quiet thank you, though the words felt strange on your lips, your usual confidence faltering under his watchful gaze. His praise should have flattered you, but instead, it left you feeling oddly exposed, like he saw more than you intended to show.
He released your hand, but the strange, lingering sensation stayed with you, leaving you both captivated and nervous.
Feeling faint, you sat down on your vanity chair. "So, you know Hongjoong?" you asked, searching for some logic behind his sudden presence.
"I do," he replied smoothly, though there was a slight glint in his eye that betrayed him. "We’ve been discussing a potential business venture together."
The truth, however, was a little more complicated. Seonghwa had met Hongjoong only once, barely enough to call him an acquaintance. From the start, Hongjoong hadn’t seemed eager to hand over his only asset to a man of Seonghwa’s reputation, especially not when rumors swirled about his intention to repurpose the theater into something as mundane as a car wash to serve as a front for his family’s business. But Seonghwa knew how to persuade, and when he named his price, Hongjoong’s reluctance began to waver.
That first night, they’d arranged to negotiate the deal, and Seonghwa had come prepared to secure the theater with his usual finesse. But Hongjoong was running late. Growing tired from standing in the lobby all evening, Seonghwa decided to sit in an empty seat during the show only to rest his feet, but your elegant movements captivated him, and made him forget who he was and why he was there.
He stepped closer, closing the distance between you in a way that made the small room feel even smaller. Your breath hitched as his intense gaze softened slightly, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. The air between you felt charged, the warmth of his presence mingling with the lingering cold from his leather gloves.
“But I’m not here to talk about that,” He said, towering over you, “I could actually use your help in something.”
There was something odd yet inticing about his request. What could he, a possible mob boss, want from someone like you?
“And what might that be?” You asked, your throat suddenly feeling dry.
He was so close to you now that you could pick up the warming notes of his cologne— spices, sandalwood, and a hint of citrus. You’d seen his face a thousand times before, always shrouded in the dim lighting of the audience, his expression always stoic and muted. But now, with the light catching the sharp angles of his cheekbones and his plush and perfect lips just inches away from you, he was utterly captivating. You couldn’t look away.
"You see, I have this problem," he said, pacing slowly around you, his voice steady but laced with something unspoken. The air shifted each time he moved, the chill of his absence replaced by an intoxicating warmth as he drew near again.
"A problem?" you echoed, your voice a little breathless, trying to focus as his reflection loomed behind you in the mirror.
"Mm." He stopped directly behind you, lowering his head closer to the nape of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "It’s you," he admitted, his tone dropping into something dangerously intimate.
Your heart skipped a beat. "Me?"
Seonghwa straightened himself, meeting your wide-eyed gaze in the mirror, his lips curving into a faint, knowing smirk. "You’re making it very hard for me to focus on my job," he said. His words were as smooth as they were direct. "And when a man like me gets distracted… it causes complications."
He moved again, standing to your side now, his hand resting lightly on the back of your chair. The closeness was almost unbearable, every nerve in your body hyper-aware of his presence.
"So," he continued, his eyes locking onto yours, "I thought perhaps you could help me resolve this little… issue of mine."
Your mind raced to comprehend the suggestion wrapped in his words. The way he looked at you left no room for misinterpretation, his meaning clear without being crass. You felt a sudden pulse between your legs, forcing you to squeeze your thighs tighter.
"And how exactly would I… help?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Seonghwa tilted his head, a slow smile tugging at his lips. "You’re a clever woman," he said, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your shoulder with deliberate care. "I think you already know."
—
You sat perched on your dressing table, forced to see yourself reflected in the mirror. There was a nervous flutter in your stomach as Seonghwa loomed behind you, his broad shoulders and low eyes making your breath hitch. You watched as he parted your thighs before eagerly ripping at the center seam of your stocking, revealing your glistening cunt to you both. Before you could react, he brought down his gloved hand, tapping on your pulsing clit a few times before pressing down in slow and small circles.
The coldness of the leather made you gasp, your heartbeat spiraling in excitement. You could see your slick coating his fingers, bringing a faint shine to his black gloves.
“Such a fat little pussy,” he breathed into your neck, the sudden warmth making a few hairs stand at your nape. He lightly slapped your cunt again, his mouth watering at your chubby, wet folds. “Didn’t think such a sweet little ballerina had something like this between her legs.”
You couldn’t help but feel vulnerable as you took in your reflection, hardly recognizing the scantily clad woman before you. You pressed your eyes shut as he continued pulling a string of shaky, breathless moans from your lips.
“Let’s see how well this little pussy can take me, hm?” He challenged, refusing to wait for your response before inserting a leathered digit into your wet walls. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, struggling to wrap around the thickness of his glove. Seonghwa chuckled at your tightness.
“Please,” You begged, tightly holding onto his working arm. But the desperation in your voice only egged him on. He thrust in a merciless rhythm, the squelching sounds from your arousal sending blood down to his groin.
“Please what dear? You want more?” Seonghwa grinned devilishly before stuffing in another finger, the sudden stretch sending a mix of pain and pleasure to your core. He worked you open at a brutal pace, soaking in your sweet moans as you gripped onto him tighter.
You were slowly coming undone, your knees quivering and threatening to cave in. You felt his hand grip onto your inner thigh, holding you open as much as possible for him. It was then that you fluttered your eyes open, only to find his gaze already locked onto yours in the mirror. You felt a twist in your stomach like he’d caught you doing something you shouldn’t be doing. You quickly realized that Seonghwa had been watching you in the mirror, his gaze unwavering as he took in every tear tracing your scorned red cheek, the delicate furrow of your brow, and the way your plush, pouty lips let out the softest, most beautiful whines he’d ever heard. Just as enchanting as your expressions were on stage, they were even more alluring here as he ravished you at his will.
His fingers were so much deeper now, hitting you in all the right places, until the tension inside of you snapped and you finally let go all over his gloved fingers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You sputtered, watching your wetness drip down his gloves. Exhaustion suddenly took over you, forcing your head to fall against his chest.
“I hope you don’t think we’re finished here,” He whispered, his soft, full lips feathering over your ear lobe, “There’s still a lot of things I need you to do.”
—
You were sprawled out over the table now, your top completely discarded, leaving you in just your ripped stockings. Seonghwa liked the stockings you wore on stage. They were so pearly and smooth, and he almost felt bad for ruining them this way. He leaned down and peppered a trail of kisses under your ear, down to your collarbone, lingering over your hardened peaks briefly, before continuing down to your pelvis.
You felt a wave of heat spread over you as he kissed around the outside of your cunt before spreading your lips with his fingers, reuniting you with the coldness of the leather. He dragged his long, warm tongue over your hot slit, groaning once your essence reached his tastebuds.
“You taste just as sweet as you look,” He praised, before wrapping his lips over your swollen clit. He sucked and pulled, swallowing every bit of juice you offered him hungrily.
Your back arched in bliss, your hips rolling as he gleefully lapped away at your cunt. He pressed his strong hands down your inner thighs to keep you still, your puffy pussy now spread completely open for him to devour. He savored every drop of you, like a predator that spent weeks catching its prey.
Seonghwa told himself he’d finally be rid of this infatuation after tonight and return to his duties with no more distractions, but how could he now after seeing you like this? With your body so willing, the sheer afterglow hitting your face and collarbones, the uneasy rise of your chest, and those lustful, messy moans? It all enticed him even further, and he worried he’d never be able to stay away.
Seonghwa was at his peak now, and he couldn’t hold out any longer. He quickly sprang up at his feet, the sounds of his belt unbuckling making your core throb with anticipation. His angry, red tip pressed against your slit, making you gasp at how hot and hard he felt.
Seonghwa pushed himself in slowly, inch by inch until his shaft was completely sucked in by you. He cursed at your tightness and moved his hips slowly, allowing you to adjust to his girth.
“Fuck!” You cried out, curling your toes as he plunged deeper into you. He fucked you hard and rough, determined to take all his anger and frustrations out on you so that he could return to his stoic self. He hated you for throwing him off his game, and he still held onto that hope that he’d finally let go of all his pent up emotions once he finishes fucking your brains out. He just needed to get it out of his system.
You winced at his tight grasp on your hips. His pace was brutal, the sounds of your dressing table rocking against the wall overpowering your desperate screams, yet you refused to open your eyes. You didn’t want to see his face while he thrusted into you with an unspoken vendetta. His gaze alone made you feel even more hot and frazzled.
Suddenly, you felt his hand creep to the back of your head, pulling your head up by a fistful of strands. You took in a sharp breath, the pain of your pulled hair forcing you to open your eyes at last.
“Look at how good you fucking take me,” He grunted, pushing your head down farther to help you get a good look at his cock stretching out your swollen cunt. “ ‘Take me just like a good girl.”
Your face grew hot as you watched yourself take him in, eyes bulging at his thick cock that was decorated with pulsing veins and twitched inside of you so deliciously. So drunk off his cock, you found yourself rambling nonsense as he fucked you into oblivion. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck me, fuck me so good!”
You felt you both were melting into each other, your breathing growing erratic and unsteady until you finally lost your composure.
Seonghwa pulled out of you, spilling himself over your wet cunt as he sucked in a breath, making sure to milk out every last drop of his seed. You couldn’t help but watch as he spread his thick, white cum over your swollen pussy lips, your body twitching from the sensitivity.
When you looked up at him, you found his face flushed as red as yours, his mouth slightly agape, with an expression that caught you off guard. The moody, confident alpha male who had entered your room now seemed unsteady, his composure cracked, leaving him looking utterly broken and confused.
He leaned down, his breath mingling with yours for a fleeting moment before his lips finally pressed against yours. The kiss was seamless, as though the two of you had been meant to move together in this way all along. The warmth of his touch ignited something between you, a spark that quickly became a flame, and a flame that would soon become a raging fire that could never be put out.
Seonghwa's desire for you only intensified in that moment. Whatever his plans had been before tonight, they now felt irrelevant, tangled up in the web of feelings he could no longer suppress. He didn’t know what this meant for his current predicament—how this would complicate everything—but one thing was certain: he wouldn’t be letting you go anytime soon. He’s marked his destiny by letting himself be engulfed in the flames.
#ateez smut#ateez fanfic#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa smut#seonghwa scenarios#park seonghwa smut#park seonghwa#park seonghwa x reader
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So, this is quite a rant. You can skip to the bottom, if you want to know my opinion but don't want to read that much... But I worked hard on it and I think it's important, so it would make me very happy if you read through the whole text.
So this fits into something I wanted to post about anyway: a broader theme of why do we frame things as wars? Like, why is it culture war, specifically. First I liked the concept, I thought it described something quite complicated reasonably easily. But I pondered on it a bit more and I think there's more going on.
It's pretty trivial, that most societies went through a huge change over the last half century. It's not just feminism. I could make a whole list of things we as a people took on. Anti-racism and civil rights, religious acceptance, global trade, reinterpreting the meaning of peace, connecting the word through the world-wide web, etc. We ( or, as I am barely an adult and have no idea how to change things for the better, I should say you, or maybe chat) decided it was time for change, so change came. You brought it about.
And I agree. Change WAS and IS necessary. What that change should entail, well, we all have our ideas, right? And they have the ugly tendency to differ from each other. The question then is, how do we coincide our contradictory ideas on society? The answer is both worrying and very important.
To be fair, our race doesn't have a great track record on solving these kinds of issues. I dug into my historical knowledge, since, you know, those who don't learn from it, repeat it... The only thing I can compare to what's happening today would be the Reformation (which probably says a lot about my historical knowledge). That's the only time I know, where societal assumptions were altered so much in such a short time. That time it was specifically about the Catholic church (if you don't know, what I'm talking about, you really should, so Google it), and the result was a series of wars, that ultimately may have wiped out about a fifth of Europes population. The wars were of course led by powerful men, who capitalised on the divide to further their own goals.
As back then, now too, we can't rely on institutions to tame the public. Many media and political identities have a direct interest in polarising society. Because that's what happens. All these contentious issues about gender, class, or foreign policy become dividing lines between folks who are supposed to be parts of the same whole (call it community, state, nation or humanity, depending on how wide you can think). You know, how it works, probably saw it a few times, whatever your interests are. It's literally everywhere! We fight it out with the perceived enemy of the week sometimes, when there is an election, something notable happens, or it's simply Pride Month. Then everyone goes back to their respective corners, where they vehemently agree with themselves. We don't talk a lot, just throw words at each other, like Buggs Bunny, playing tennis with a dynamite.
I should say, this post is a notable and refreshing outlier. Thanks, @trans-androgyne , for starting a discussion for a change!
I know, it's a bit like nuclear armament. You can't just stop, because THEY won't, and then they win, and you can't allow that. It's life and death! And I don't have some magic pill to make it all go right, or believe me, I wouldn't sit here, typing this out at 3 in the morning Central European Time. But let me propose this: don't call it a war! Neither culture war, nor gender war, nor anything like that. Because this isn't a war. Just ask anyone in the middle east! They can tell you, what is war, and THIS IS NOT IT! And also, because it may not be guns and destruction yet, but nothing guarantees, that it stays that way. We already had multiple attempted takeovers of capital buildings since this cursed decade began, because our social reality became so fragmented, that you can't accept the results of a popular election anymore. That should raise alarm bells. I know it does, but it can be much worse! Learn from history, do not repeat it! Hit the Wiki page on the Huguenot war! On the siege of Magdeburg. Or, if that's not your cup of tea, watch Civil War! I genuinely think it's the best movie of the year.
Call it Social Discourse! That sounds much more manageable, doesn't it? Or you can come up with something else, as long as it isn't some warmongering bullshit. And maybe the next time you meet someone with sexist, homophobic, racist, or maybe radical left and anarchistic views (whatever you're opposing), don't attack them with your words! Those aren't weapons. Try to talk to them instead! Try talking about feelings! Listen to theirs, make them understand yours! I say feelings, because you both have those. Try finding a common ground, however small, and build up from there. Like Minecraft Skyblock. It can be hard in a challenging way, instead of making you want to shoot yourself in the head. Remember, you aren't fighting a war. You are having a discourse.
All of it is to say, the world and society are changing, wether you like it or not, and we have to change with it, to survive. That is the simple fact. If you call that change a war, that's just gonna make the whole thing unnecessarily painful for everyone involved.
This was sociopolitical advice from a giant armadillo.
Genuinely, what happened to “feminism is for everyone”?
That’s the feminism I grew up with: encouraging people to recognize that fighting sexism and restrictive gender roles helps folks of every gender. We’d push back on the idea that feminists hate men, pointing to inclusive feminist literature and how many men are feminists.
Now, there are so many people insisting that the solution to patriarchy is to openly hate and ostracize men no matter what. Why? What is the benefit? It’s certainly not effective in fighting oppressive structures to exclude half the population from your cause on the basis of immutable traits. It may feel cathartic to say horrible things about men and try to punish them for your frustrations with patriarchy. But the only actual effect I see is the increasing right-wing radicalization of young men, who are being told that the left hates them for the way they were born and presented with an abundance of proof that it’s true.
Why are we going back to treating men and women as different species? It doesn’t fix things to say “well women are the good gender and men are the bad one” this time. If you sincerely want to dismantle sexism, you’re going to have to unpack and let go of all sex and gender essentialism—even that which considers women inherently pure and men inherently immoral.
#trans-androgyne#social discourse#compassion#politics#political discourse#feminism#women power#because this post is still about feminism#i just wanted to share#how the same mindset can be useful in other themes#i hope it helps#it felt good to write it#so in a way#it's already worth it
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Introducing Homicipher Characters to Your Plushies - Pt. 1
The Homicipher Characters come to you in hopes for whatever insanity they plan to drag you into, you instead have a different plan! Showing them your plushies!
Based off my series for the whb devils ! Consider this is scenario where you brought them back to your world with you and they understand your language fully now and vice versa !
Notes: Some very light suggestive content. Gender neutral reader ! This round of characters includes: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Scarletella, Mr. Chopped. Mr. Silvair, Mr. Gap, Mr. Hood, & Mr. Machete !
Mr. Crawling
Honestly you could do anything and it would just make him love you more.
But especially in this case!
He will sit and listen intently to every last thing you have to say about your plushies!
And he's memorized all of their names for you!! He knows which ones are your favorites and which ones you find the most comforting when you're upset.
He thinks you're so cute when you talk about them too!
He gives you and your plushies pets as you talk about them!!
Squishes your cheeks, you're the most adorable person to him and he's glad you shared with him such an important part of your life.
Will go out and find even more plushies for you. He would do anything for you after all!
Mr. Scarletella
If I'm being honest you could honestly talk about anything and he would just listen.
It wouldn't matter the topic. You wanna talk about your plushies? Then yeah of course he's gonna listen and eat up every detail.
He loves seeing your smile, and admittedly he does get a bit of cuteness aggression from it so prepare yourself for that lol.
However.... He does get kind of jealous of them too.
What do you mean he's not the only being you've given names to? Not to mention the amount of attention and affection you give to them.
Yes, these aren't living creatures and he knows this but he can't help himself!
He gets irritated about it, if you notice his jealousy right away and stop and give him attention then he'll get over it quick.
If it takes you longer to notice however. Things might end up requiring a much more bigger solution than just a few kisses and cuddles.
Mr. Chopped
They're very cute!! He likes your plushies and how excited and cute you get when you talk about them!!
But... They're not as cute as him, right?
Expect to be showing him an equal amount of attention as you are your plushies as your introducing him to them.
He just gets so grumpy and jealous way too easily.
He very much requires you to gush about him just as much as you gush about these inanimate objects.
And as long as you do so he is pleased and content and can live in harmony with your plushies.
He takes note of the names and while he might not remember every last detail, he does like talking to you about them!!
He knows it's an easy way to make you happy and he very much likes making you happy!!
However you'll never know that sometimes when you're not looking, he's glaring at them.
Mr. Silvair
While I don't think he really cares that much about the plushies, he is interested in humans. And you.
So he'll listen. It gives him a bit of insight to how not human minds work, but specifically yours.
This odd cute stuffed creatures bring you immense joy, he's not sure why, but he knows it does and he would like to know why.
Honestly it doesn't really matter what you do, everything to him provides him with more research.
That being said, it's not like it ends up being solely about his research.
He does end up finding himself being oddly endeared by your behavior and how happy you when talking about your plushies.
He's taking to placing them on your whenever you're upset or need comfort. Especially since he knows it works.
He can soft and sweet sometimes. At least when it comes to his favorite human, of course.
Mr. Gap
The idea came to you when you saw him peeking out of a dark gap that was in your plushie pile!
He came to ask one of his typical questions, but you didn't let him get a word in!
You immediately just picked up one of your plushies and started talking about them!
He doesn't really quite find anything interesting about the plushies, but he is interested in you so!
He will listen to what you have to say. And he does know some of your plushies by name after you tell him about them.
Will occasionally show up with plushies he's found that he thinks you will like.
Of course you need to give him your heart to have them though!
You won't?
Well... he guesses he can settle for a kiss or something instead....
Mr. Hood
He doesn't quite fully understand your deep attachment to these objects, but he'll support your love for them fully.
We already know he's a good teacher, but he's also one of the best listeners as well.
He will sit for however long it takes for you to share with him all of your plushies and their names and even lore if you have that for them as well.
He does find it rather endearing, even if he's not quite sure why he enjoys you talking about something for so long.
Will pat your head occasionally, if only he had a head that you could see because if he did he would have the softest smile on it as he watches you talk.
Truly experiencing you share this with him just puts an even deeper desire in him to protect you from any and all harm.
He will make sure and be guaranteed to protect that bright, beaming smile on your face that you have in this moment. At any cost.
Mr. Machete
He does not give a shit.
Or at least that's what he says.
And well, to be fair, he is annoyed by your focus on these cute nonthreatening soft things instead of just sparing with him or something.
Don't ask him if he's jealous of your plushies, he'll deny it to ends of the earth.
Ignore that he's been acting grumpy since.
Just give him a little extra attention and he'll be fine.
Also seems like the kind to get cuteness aggression. But his cuteness aggression just leads to him wanting to fight you. And bite you. Maybe some scratching too. Basically he's not gonna be nice about it and just give you squeezing hugs or something lol
#homicipher#homicipher x reader#mr crawling#mr crawling x reader#mr scarletella x reader#mr scarletella#mr chopped x reader#mr chopped head#mr silvair#mr silvair x reader#mr gap#mr gap x reader#mr machete#mr machete x reader#mr hood#mr hood x reader
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I'm going to explain the theory that Jinx is not actually dead
(I know this is long, I promise it's worth it)
This starts in chapter 8 of season two.
We see Jinx in the prision, she's devastated, lost, defeated, and wants things to end. And we see the first interaction she has with the voice of Silco. In this interaction Silco tells Jinx that "killing is a cycle" and that it would continue. But Jinx says she's "done running in circles", meaning: she wants to stop this cycle. To which Silco says:
And later, when Vi goes to visit Jinx, and Jinx tricks Vi and escapes the prison. Vi then asks her what she will do, Jinx answers:
And now Jinx knows the way to break the cycle, is by leaving.
Next time we see Jinx is in episode 9. She is still in the same mood as before, and now she cuts most of her hair off and burns The Last Drop
Burning down The Last Drop and letting go of her hair shows this closure. Later, she tries to kill herself, which is her way of "walking away" to "break the cycle".
But then Ekko shows up, saves her, and they go to save Vi and the others together.
At this point, Jinx wants to stop the killing and wants to leave, but she will always want to save Vi ("I'm always with you. Even when we are worlds apart").
But she still wants to break the cycle. She still needs to let go.
So, as she saves Vi from Warwick with the monkey bomb explosion, she escapes and leaves Piltover.
And we get a hint of that in the final scenes of the show when Caitlyn is going through her mother's database. She finds a blueprint of the hexgate tower and finds secret air ducts in the place where the explosion happened.
We also see her holding a part of Jinx's bomb.
And after seeing the blueprint she has this look. Like she's thinking "is it possible she survived?"
And in the very last scene we see one of these things that is flying away from Piltover.
Which reminds me of Season 1 Episode 1:
She has always wanted to ride one of them.
Maybe, this is her new way of walking away, instead of dying.
And the two frames are almost exactly the same, it couldn't not be a reference to that s1 moment.
And I know this theory may sound dumb but, why would they show us Caitlyn looking at those blueprints then? Every scene, every frame in Arcane is carefully designed. The team is very good, they wouldn't just show it for no reason. It wouldn't make sense. Especially because they have only 9 episodes of 40 minutes each (except 9 which has 50) to develop everything that happens in season two. And there are A LOT of things going on, they don't have time to spare. If they chose to show us that, it had a very important meaning.
Also I think it's kinda bad If Jinx just dies, I wouldn't like that ending, at least not like this.
#arcane#arcane spoilers#arcane season 2#arcane s2 act 3#arcane s2 act3#jinx arcane#jinx#arcane jinx#arcane theories#arcane analysis#Caitlyn#caitlyn kiramman#caitlyn arcane#vi arcane#vi#silco#silco arcane#arcane finale
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Primarchs + Daughters
My perception of how each Primarch would behave when nosediving into parenthood if they had daughters. Enjoy!
I wanna personally thank @moodymisty because a great deal of their works inspired this piece.
Part 1
Lion El’jonson
The embodiment of 'tough love' made man. Having a daughter doesn’t do much to soften this guy… or at least that’s what others believe. The Dark Angels Legion are probably the only ones aware of the small gestures the Primarch often gives to his little girl in the safety that privacy offers. Where Lion lacks words of compassionate and parental love, he appropriately makes up for it with actions. He isn’t one to go over the top and prefers to give modest gifts to his daughter as the last thing the man wants is to raise a spoiled brat. Father-daughter bonding time can be summarized with strenuous training using the sword. This man will not let his precious Princess go through life without learning how to protect herself, even if he has made an oath to forever shield her too.
Fulgrim
The complete antithesis of Lion. Where this man views the Emperor as the perfection anyone should strive to reach, his beautiful daughter comes close to the second place in fulfilling that ideal. There’s a big fat chance that he teared up a little when his little gem called him Papa for the first time, but managed to wear his ever unshakable mask because he absolutely refuses to break character even in private. Has the mistaken notion that his baby is a blank canvas ready to be painted to its fullest potential; aka, molding her to what HE wants and expects of her. Fulgrim probably spoils her rotten but only through conditions that she must follow, as the Primarch understands the importance of fighting and earning for what you wish to obtain. He makes sure that any of his gene-sons are in her company as he refuses to let even a single scratch happen to his little girl. Honestly, a grown-up version of Fulgrim’s child has the chances to go both opposites of the spectrum with no in betweens: A shy aristocratic lady who is unable to speak her own mind or a completely haughty, sharp and manipulative noble woman. Too much to unpack there, yo.
Perturabo
(Slaps this bastard's head loudly) This bad boy can fit so much family trauma in it! Okay no but seriously, there’s a good reason why so many people agree that this bitch has a thing for gilded cages and all the fucked up poetry that comes with it. The good ol’ classic Greek tragedy of Medea. Perturabo may have big and insane expectations for his gene-sons but when it comes to having a daughter? The apple of his eyes. The sunshine of his life. For this Primarch, his little princess is the only living thing in the entire universe that loves him genuinely and unconditionally, making his love the equivalent of a child crushing a bird between his hands. While still easy to anger and with a resting-bitch face, he is incredibly tame and careful with his girl; always making sure that she is well versed in all kinds of science and engineering that could easily label her as a genius (but we all know how stressful can be to try and live up to big expectations). Most of his Legion finds the child either an annoyance or don’t even care enough beyond the factual point of her being the child of their mighty Primarch, beyond that? This poor girl is probably the loneliest child to ever grace the world. Remember that I referred to this like the Tragedy of Medea? Yeah…
Jaghatai Khan
Probably one of the few best papa-tier out there. This man will see his little daughter and think the only thing a good parent should do: To love and guide. He’ll be not afraid to say “I love you” to his baby girl no matter where they are, but he’ll know when to be stern and wise so she grows to be a fine and humble woman. Honestly, this guy would learn how to make a sling just for the single purpose of having his precious princess close while also being excited to teach her how to ride on a horse like he did in his childhood. The thing that makes this dude the best in this list is that if his daughter ever expresses to follow a different path in life like becoming a remembrancer or anything that doesn’t involve the Imperium, this Chad of a man will look deep into her eyes and tell her that he’ll support her no matter what. The only thing he asks is that she stays in contact as he’ll miss her terribly. Kudos to him, fr.
Leman Russ
Another one for the ‘tough love’ guys list, yo! On his defense! Hear me out… in his defense, this guy was literally raised first by Fenrisian wolves before even knowing what a proper bath entailed, so of course he’ll sometimes be a bit too much on his poor little baby girl. Roughhousing was his best first approach to teach her how to fight, trying to make his little pup have some proper backbone worthy of being called the child of a Primarch. Sometimes he’ll get carried away (either with words or actions) and is in those moments when Leman would learn what genuine and heavy guilt feels like; a very alien emotion for someone as brutal and fierce as he is. There’s no worse feeling than knowing that you are the reason behind your daughter’s tears. No one would ever say it out loud, but the way this giant of a man apologizes is by slowly and silently hugging his little girl while pouting until she hugs him back. He may suck at expressing verbally his love towards his baby, but actions are his best way to communicate and this is something his daughter eventually learns and accepts from him. Forgot to add that the entire Space Wolves Legion are not only suffocatingly protective of their Primarch’s child, but everyone takes turns when she asks them for piggy-rides or let her braid their hair.
Rogal Dorn
I don’t wanna be too mean to this poor man but lord have some mercy, trying to squeeze any emotion that doesn’t range to watching paint dry from this damn guy is already a miracle on its own. He’s probably the kind of dude that’ll leave his poor daughter in the care of his astartes and serfs while he works. Workaholic in bold, yo. It literally will take watching his poor little princess cry her eyes out for him to attempt some bonding time but man he just sucks at trying not to have a stick up his ass (Again, I’m not trying to be mean but god this is painful). This is the kind of man, besides Guilliman, that will search high and low for some paternity books to help him. At the end this father-daughter relationship can be salvageable by having a heart to heart between them both and even then, is the poor girl the one that gives more than she receives. Honestly, any daughter from Dorn has the patience of a saint. Besides this Primarch's ineptitude to properly communicate his feelings, everything else doesn’t change the fact that he loves his little princess and will do anything to make her as happy as possible so he gets some brownie points for the try.
I'll later write the second and third part of this, I swear <333
#warhammer 40k#warhammer 40000#wh40k#primarchs#lion el'jonson#fulgrim#perturabo#jaghatai khan#leman russ#rogal dorn#fatherhood#very very slightly implied primarch x reader#if you squint#implied child negligence#implied yandere perturabo
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DADRRY BLURB
what the hell, sure. welcome back dadrry!
——
It's the usual time of night when Harry prepares his mind and body for a healthy eight hours of undisturbed sleep. And by undisturbed, that doesn't include being woken up by either of his daughters. It's not so much an interruption as it is a natural part of being a father. These days, he's a master at curing midnight wakings from nightmares, sugar rushes, sicknesses, and those fussy sleep regression phases.
Secretly, he loves the challenge and reward of it all. There's nothing better than calming a baby's cry or tiring out a toddler's hyperactive brain. Even when he does it while half-asleep, the feeling of being needed by his children is unparalleled.
After putting the kids to bed, Harry has a set of rules for himself: take a scorching hot shower, drink a mug of chamomile tea, and put away his phone and laptop. It creates an inner warmth that relaxes him from top to bottom. After expeditious kitchen shifts followed by hands-on parenting, the last thing he wants is eyestrain and an aching pulse at his temples.
He'll often read a mystery or historical fiction novel to guide his thoughts away from work. It's a simple pleasure to get lost in the pages, lit only by the bedside lamp as his eyelids grow heavy. He'll bookmark whatever page is the culprit of his sleepiness and save it for tomorrow. No printed words are worth a crick in his neck. Afterward, you'll eventually join him, and he'll spend his last minutes of consciousness with his skin pressed against you, breathing in your familiar scent.
Tonight's routine goes a little differently, courteous of you. Harry manages to take a shower, adding a dose of meditation toward the end, and is blowdrying his hair when you peek your head past the bedroom doorway. Your gaze searches for him, roving over the empty bed and open closet until it lands on him standing in the connected bathroom. He shuts the dryer off, sensing you have something of importance to tell him. You're dressed in pajamas already, the matching silk two-piece hugging your curves and providing him with glimpses of skin he was deprived of all day. Lord knows the thin material draped over your bare breasts will be the cause of greedy, wandering hands under the covers later. He nearly groans just thinking about it.
Blinking himself out of that lovely fantasy, Harry lifts his eyes back up to your face. "Hi, baby," he says, setting the dryer down and fluffing his unruly hair in the mirror. There is something so intimate about seeing his and your reflection right before bedtime, in the low light after a long day. The domestic simpleness of living together, sharing a space, and coming home to each other is a delight he always revels in.
"Hey," you say, smiling and leaning against the doorjamb. "I'll wait until you're done."
Still staring at you in the mirror, Harry grips the sink's edge and hangs his head dramatically. "Why must you torture me with those pajamas?"
You roll your eyes. "Oh, please. You sleep nearly naked every night."
He finds you in the mirror again, his eyes heavy with lust. "And does it torture you?"
"I'll never tell," you reply, although a pretty blush stains your cheeks—a clear giveaway.
He smirks and says, "Give me a second. I'll be right there." He turns his attention back to his hair, but not before catching a brief flash of you practically skipping to the bed. With a warm feeling caressing his heart, he digs through the vanity drawer and finishes his routine, which consists of a spritz of sea salt spray in his curls, two swipes of Old Spice deodorant on his armpits, and a layer of maple-flavored lip balm that you'll probably—most definitely—kiss off within the next hour.
Flicking the light off, Harry makes his way to where you're sitting on the bed with a taped cardboard box in front of your tucked knees. It's only the size of half a shoebox. He sits and rests his back against the upholstered headboard, waiting for you to speak.
"Did you order a package from somewhere?" you ask, pushing the box toward him.
Harry frowns, his eyes narrowing as he tries to recall purchasing anything online recently. "I don't believe so. Why, did you?"
"No. It was on the front porch." You shrug, also confused by the mysterious box. "Must have just gotten delivered."
"Huh," he says. There's no return address, just a To: Harry Styles, and it leaves him stumped. Is it from a neighbor? A secret admirer? A stalker who is currently watching him through the window and waiting for him to open it?
New fear unlocked: a box with unknown origins.
Tearing his suspicious eyes away from the window—where thankfully no one lurks—he picks the box up and shakes it cautiously. Something inside shuffles, sounding like a solid object cushioned by something softer. Good grief, did he order something nonsensical while somnolent?
"I'm scared," Harry says bluntly.
You take the box and flip it all around like there could be a message hidden somewhere. Grinning, you say, "This is exciting. I love surprises."
"Then you should open it."
"Let's open it together," you suggest, crawling into his lap. With your back against his chest, Harry rubs his tired eyes and silently agrees. Sleep will only come harder if that unopened box sits menacingly throughout the night.
You seem unfazed by this random occurrence, but that's just how you are. The woman he married embraces the unpredictability of life and coaxes the curious nature he thought he grew out of as an adult. Now, staring at the harmless box, Harry follows your lead and digs his fingers into the topmost slit covered with flimsy tape. The cardboard gives way, and he opens the flaps slowly as if a wild animal might leap out.
He notices you aren't looking at the box's contents. Your eyes are trained on him, the eager expression you previously wore now softened.
"What's in there?" you ask, your thumb stroking the intrinsic lines and curves of his palm.
Harry looks from you to the box several times, not understanding the shift in mood. You nod, encouraging him to reveal the secret. He discovers a white fleece blanket, small enough in size for his brain to fire a synapse that he can't quite comprehend just yet.
"A blanket," he says with utter confusion. "Who would send me this?" When you quirk your lips to the side, he takes a shot in the dark. "Is this from you?"
"I don't know. Let's see the blanket." Your voice has gotten hushed.
Harry carefully takes it out, the material soft and lush. Again, he realizes it's small, not large enough to cover a full-grown person. Not even a child.
At that moment, during those few seconds where Harry's brain connects the dots, is when he shakes the blanket out and reads the embroidered words Baby Styles #3. He freezes, staring at the cursive letters stitched delicately into... a baby blanket. As he tries to process everything, you set a pregnancy test in his loose grasp, the lightweight plastic heavy with significance. His body jolts with awareness as he frantically holds it under the lamp, his hands beginning to shake. The two lines are as clear as day. Not faint. Not just a possibility. Positive.
It isn't a complete surprise. There were serious, sit-down conversations about growing the family one more time. Questions of, Are we ready for another one? and When's the right time? were answered with mutual confidence. Then it was just a matter of trying, though not as stringently as the last two times. If it was meant to be, it would happen. There was no rush. There's beauty in taking things slow and not relying on hope alone. It requires patience, maybe even a little fate, and now Harry fully understands that good things come to those who wait.
"I'm pregnant," you whisper in his ear, not able to contain the joyous laugh that punctuates your statement.
Harry falls back on the bed and stares at the ceiling with blurred vision. "This is real, right? You're not pranking me?"
You straddle his bare torso, beaming at him like an angel. "I tricked you with the box. But this—" you grab the test and vulnerably hold it in your palms—"is real. We have an appointment in two weeks."
Harry sits up quickly, anchors himself to your waist, and pulls you back down on the mattress with him. You giggle, limbs tangled and breathless with excitement. "Fuck," he says, kissing every inch of your neck. "I've been dreaming of this." He brushes your hair back with gentle fingers. "Another baby."
"Could be twins or triplets. You never know."
"Wouldn't that be something," he muses, not even mildly frightened of that inconceivable thought.
Happy tears drip from your lashes. "I'm sure it won't feel real until, well, you know..."
Yeah, he knows. He had the privilege of watching you bloom twice. Each time was slightly different, with varying symptoms and measurements. What remained the same was your radiant beauty that somehow became even more pronounced as the pregnancies progressed. It was remarkable to witness. He couldn't believe you were able to create life so gracefully.
You take Harry's hand and place it on your lower stomach. There's no physical proof since it's far too early, yet he knows it will sneak up on him, and before long, he'll be cradling a crying baby in his arms. For the third time.
"Can we keep this a secret?" Harry asks quietly. "At least until you have a cute bump that can't be ignored anymore."
"Can you keep it a secret?" you tease. The last two pregnancies were revealed to family and friends, both times spoiled by him. Apparently, he was making it obvious by the way he touched you and the "hints" he wasn't aware he was dropping. The first time, during a summer get-together with your side of the family, he honestly doesn't remember holding your cousin's baby girl and cheekily saying "I'm preparing." The backyard went eerily silent until you shouted the news to save his ass from fumbling through some half-baked explanation. The second time, during Christmas dinner, he really doesn't remember his hand drifting so evidently to your bump that you hid under a loose sweater. He may have been tipsy, so when his mother pulled him into the hallway and gave him a knowing look, he couldn't help but nod bashfully to confirm her motherly intuition.
"I'll be good, I promise," Harry says, making a show of locking lips and throwing away the key.
You cup his cheeks and attach your mouth to his. He melts into your sweet, tender kiss that he can't live without. "It doesn't matter to me. But I definitely want to get past the first trimester in case..." Your voice trails off, and Harry nods to show he understands the unspoken prospect.
"I guess I'm just already feeling protective," he murmurs, his hand traveling down your thigh. "Want you and this secret all to myself."
"You're a greedy, greedy man," you say, shifting your hips.
He groans. "It's these damn pajamas."
"Oh, you have nine months of torture ahead. You know why?"
"Why, sweetheart?"
You sigh theatrically. "Because there will come a time when these pajamas won't fit anymore. And poor me will be in the third trimester in the late summer, which means it'll be too hot to wear anything to bed."
Harry's jaw hangs open, filthy fantasies flashing through his mind at warp speed. "Yeah? Well fuck, I better take advantage of the precious time I have left with them." He snaps the waistband of your shorts.
You laugh loudly, the sound filling the room like it was always meant to, and Harry takes it as an invitation to dive under the silk.
——
#harry styles imagine#harry styles blurb#harry styles au#dad!harry#dadrry#harry styles fanfic#harry styles#adore-laur#don’t ask how this happened#because i don't know
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𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒆𝒕 ✧ 𝒅. 𝒔.
pairing: drew starkey x f!reader
warnings: miscarriage but its so fluffy yall :((
word count: 1.2k
a/n: this is so shitty y’all i’m sorry djfjdk
pls he looks so cute here
when you said you wanted him to enjoy the moment with his family, he thought it was strange, but he didn’t argue. you’ve always understood how close he is to his family, and this moment in his career is important, you want him to celebrate with his parents, siblings, and closest friends.
you’ve only been together for a short time, and you’re not close enough to his family to be at family gatherings, you don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.
“we can celebrate later, just you and me.” you said, sealing your promise with a kiss, before you left his apartment, three days ago.
drew found it strange, but he thought you were just giving him space, which he appreciated. after a lot of family celebration, he went to your place, ready to spend at least a whole weekend, which you loved. there’s so much to talk about.
when you think about it, you didn’t think this thing with drew would go as far as it has been, because his schedule is chaotic and so is yours. when you first met, he was about to go to morocco to shoot outer banks, but he kept texting, calling.
“i know this is kinda all over the place right now, but i wanna see where this is going. do you?”
“i do.”
and that was it. you knew then and there, with only three weeks of dating (online dating for the most part), that you were in love. he’s so sweet, and so silly, too. somehow, you trust him. after being let down so many times, he’s made you feel safe from day one.
you’re not scared to tell him.
you’re on your bed, just waiting for him to get out of the shower. you’re barely paying attention to the tv, you’re just mindlessly scrolling through reels on your instagram, just waiting.
he comes out, shirtless, with damp hair and wearing the sluttiest thing a man can wear - black boxers that fit him just right. he’s such a beautiful man.
“d’you wanna take a picture?” he jokes when he catches you staring.
“you do it on purpose, don’t you?”
“of course i do.”
he gets under the covers and immediately latches onto you, resting his head on your chest. all he really wants is to feel you near him. it turns out, he wanted you with his family. he wanted you there, he wanted to properly introduce you to his loved ones, but maybe you’re not ready and he’ll give you all the time you need.
“i’ve missed you so much,” he says, his voice muffled by your skin.
you smell like french vanilla, and he loves that scent on you. he delights himself in your touch, when your nails lightly scratch his scalp and the nape of his neck.
“i’ve missed you, too. very much.”
he smiles against your skin and takes a long, deep breath, finally allowing his body to relax.
“um… so, i was kind of wanting to talk to you.” you say, trying to sound calm. well, you are calm, but you are also just a tad nervous.
he sits up, no longer relaxed.
“what is it?”
you sigh, look down and extend your hands, as a silent request for his. drew understands and places his hands on yours. your face is serene, but he can tell something is wrong.
“babe, tell me. i knew something was wrong, you were too distant these last couple of weeks.”
you chuckle - you can’t hide anything from this man.
“i’m gonna preface it by saying that i am okay, i am fine, but something did happen, and i’ve debated whether or not i should tell you, and i thought that you deserve to know.”
“you’re scaring me.”
“no, please, it’s… it’s okay. just let me say it all first and then you can speak, okay?” drew doesn’t respond, but you take his silence as a nod. “so, a few weeks ago, i was taking a shower and felt a weird abdominal pain, and then there was blood. i wasn’t on my period, so i got a bit scared and went to the hospital. i had a few tests done and found out… um…” you trail off, because this is surprisingly hard to talk about. he lightly squeezes your hands, encouraging you to keep going. “i had a miscarriage.”
oh.
wait.
what?
“a miscarriage?”
“i didn’t know. the doctor explained that it was common for women to have a miscarriage before even knowing they were pregnant.”
drew is quiet, absorbing the whole information. you were pregnant, and didn’t even know it. you had a miscarriage and he wasn’t there for you.
“why didn’t you tell me? i would’ve taken the first flight back to be here with you.”
“i know you would, that’s why i didn’t.” you explain, kissing the back of his hand right after. “also, i needed to figure it out by myself first. i was shocked to learn through a miscarriage that i was pregnant. it was a lot to process.”
“i can’t even imagine. but… how are you now?”
“i’m okay, i promise. i have one last appointment next week.”
“i’ll go with you.”
“okay. that’d be great, actually.”
he sighs, a bit relieved. at least you’re okay.
“i thought you should know because, well, i was pregnant. and if nothing had happened, i would still be pregnant, and i know it’s early, we haven’t talked about these things and i’m not pressuring you to do or say anything, but i still wanted you to know. felt really wrong to keep this from you.”
“no, you did the right thing.” he says, kissing the back of your hand. “i’m just sorry you went through all of this alone.”
“it’s okay, though. i wanted you to be the first person to know. and maybe the only one. i don’t think we should tell anyone else about this. like, it’d be just… pointless.”
“right. but, uh, if you do want to talk about kids, we can.”
“oh?”
“i mean… i’ve thought about it.” he admits. “i’m the eldest of the family, my mom has already started asking me for grandbabies, she says liliana needs a cousin.” you giggle. “but at the same time, the life i live today wouldn’t be possible with a kid, if i’m honest. i barely have time to sleep, let alone raise a child, and if i’m meant to have kids, i want to be there.”
“when i would think about children, i thought about pregnancy and how i needed to avoid it like the plague during my teenage years,” you laugh. “even when some of my friends got pregnant, i never really saw myself in their position, you know? i guess it wasn’t a priority for me, and still isn’t, but… i’m not ruling it out.”
“i’m not either.”
“so… there’s that.” you shrug, relieved that it all went well. “thank you for listening, i was a bit nervous.”
he nods, completely enchanted by you. he wishes he could navigate difficult topics the way you do. so natural, so easy. you seem to have your shit together and he’s so jealous of that.
“you can always tell me anything.”
“i know.”
“if something like this happens again, tell me. i don’t want you to go through anything bad alone ever again, okay?”
you nod, letting him hug you. oh, you love him.
“we’ll have plenty of time to talk about it and other stuff, too.”
i love feedback! let me know what you think!
#my writings#drew starkey#drew starkey oneshot#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x you
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Something that I really love about Sam, and have always loved since I listened to his first video, is how he entirely subverts the expectations for vampires. Not just modern day ones but the expectations that have always been there for vampires.
(And his southern accent but that’s not what this post is about)
When vampires first rose to popularity, what they represented was a fear of sexuality. They were inherently sexual creatures of the night who lured innocent people into the shadows with their powers of seduction only to drink their blood.
We even see this in most of the redacted vampires. Vincent was literally introduced as “the flirty vampire”. While later he was given some depth and we learn that he just picked up that act from Porter, it was still an integral part of him in the beginning. Even Alexis, as little from her as we have heard, she speaks in a very low, sultry tone. Even when she isn’t trying to be flirtatious.
This is a very inherent part of vampires some lore even describes it as a power that they have. (I believe this is addressed within Castle Audios lore as “the lure”)
But Sam doesn’t have that. He isn’t flirty. He isn’t seductive. Not in the traditional way anyways. (Because HOO BOY AM I SEDUCED)
Sam doesn’t try to lure Darlin in when they first meet. He doesn’t really try to lure darlin at all, really. They just naturally grew close. It was active flirtation, it was just chemistry and care.
Even when they do admit their feelings for each other Sam still doesn’t want to have sex. He hadn’t for over a decade, and the last person he had sex with stole his life away from him. Of course he didn’t feel comfortable.
And I think this all helps to portray the most important part of Sam’s backstory.
He wasn’t supposed to be a vampire.
He never planned on being turned. He didn’t want Alexis to turn him. He never wanted to be that.
The same could be said for Vincent, he didn’t wanted to be turned either. He wasn’t given a choice. However, Vincent still took on that flirty vampire persona.
I think this illustrates the difference in how Vincent and Sam grew into their turning over time. Vincent, while extremely depressed in the beginning of his turning, grew into it. He eventually learned to accept himself as a vampire, and even embrace it. I think him taking on that traditional, flirty vampire act, was his way of embracing what he now was.
Lovely’s part in Vincent’s character growth, rather than teaching him to accept himself as a vampire, was helping him to learn that he didn’t have to be someone new just because his mortal self is dead.
Sam, while he accepted the fact that he was a vampire passively, he never really embraced it as part of himself. I think this is really well illustrated by how he handled feeding before he fed from Darlin. “I’ve never been one to savor the taste. I just chug it like a supplement and pour a cup of something I actually like the taste of”. (That was paraphrased pls don’t hurt me if I got something wrong). He accepts that he needs blood to survive but he is going to incorporate it into his life passively, and focus on the things he actually likes. He accepts that he is a vampire, but he won’t take it as a part of himself.
I think this is even shown well in Sam choice to “chose morality” (as it was put in the trigger warnings of that one video, still hung up on that btw) rather than live forever. He accepts that he is immortal, but he isn’t going to embrace it.
To Sam vampirism isn’t a part of himself, it’s just something that was done to him. Like a giant scar that covers his body, his face, his eyes, even his core. It still isn’t him.
The way that Darlin plays into Sam’s character growth, I think has potential to change this and I think it’s something interesting to explore.
So far Darlin already has played a pretty big part in Sam’s character growth. Before meeting them he was closed off. Isolating himself from pretty much everyone but a few people in his clan. Darlin has brought him out of that. He now has people, he has the pack. While he does love Vincent and Lovely (and possibly Fred and Bright but we will never know what happened with them), it’s important to have people outside of the ones that you are forced to interact with by circumstance. Especially if said circumstances are horribly traumatic for you.
Blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, and all that.
However, I think Darlin inadvertently helping Sam to embrace the vampiric aspects of himself is interesting concept. Especially now that Sam has fed from Darlin, and enjoyed it, and saw how much his mate enjoyed. I think Sam slowly accepting vampirism is absolutely a possibility in the future.
If it ever happens or not I will still adore Sam’s character all the same.
Anyways this was a really long winded way of explaining that I like how Sam subverts the typical tropes with vampires, and I appreciate how it ties into his turning being non-consensual. I like to rant if people haven’t picked up on that already lmao.
Also I miss my girlfriend. Erik bring Sam back home immediately.
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Jikook came home
God, how I missed this.
How I miss them!!
Before getting into the whole JM post followed by the cute-flirty interaction that followed, I will take this opportunity in congratulating both JM and JK for their MAMA awards achievements.
JM winning Daesang fans choice of the year.🎉🎉
JK winning top 10 fans choice, best male artist and best dance performance (SNTY).🎉🎉
JM being the sweetheart that he is came to us with a lengthy post to thank Army for voting and receiving a Daesang.
There are a couple of nuanced differences in some of the translations, but all in all, they are pretty much on the same page.
The main difference I've seen is the translation of this part:
벙벙 벙벙 벙벙벙벙벙
Being it "dumbfounded" or "stunned" or "bemused".
I think this probably captures it best:
And then we had JK....
Who was most likely sitting there right by JM's side, the speed of their back and forth being one of the indications to that (we are talking within seconds here), not to mention patterns of past behaviour with those two.
Do we discuss for a second the Weverse translation of the discussion?
Like wtf? 🤣🤣
Ok, so the actual translation would be:
Insert the word of bemusement of your choice I guess, lol. But basically we have JM telling us he's stunned/dumbfounded and mainly happy and then that back and forth between those two right in front of our salads.
Oh, and can someone explain the @JK to me please? I mean, I get JM @JK -ing when posting his replies, but why the hell is JK @JK -ing when posting his replies to JM?🤣🤣
The way those two keep doing this shit (in such a good way, may I add) is just absolutely and utterly hilarious.
This whole exchange gives me these vibes:
And Idk why, but this interaction came straight to mind as well when I saw this back and forth between them...
Take those two and combine them and then picture that in mind with this back and forth going on:
Oh, and do I mention that obviously they had access to Internet, enough to have this back and forth between them, while both in the same place, and JK preferring to flirt in our faces with JM rather than post himself about his wins, which I can assure you he knew of. You know how it is when you don't want to take away from your boyfriend's thunder...
Maybe we'll hear from him later on maybe not, but this was about JM, his win, his moment, his post, his excitement.
And JK CANNOT miss out on a little teasing-flirtatious banter with his man, now can he?
Let's back track for one moment, because I do want to talk about JM inserting JK into his post. I do believe this is going to be a new standard/constant/reality. You know, the "me and JK"/ "JK and I" or "me and JM"/"JM and I". That very natural way of inserting one another in their interactions/conversations with us. Now, don't get me wrong, this is not a new thing what so ever. They have been doing this since forever. But I do think that it's going to become more of a constant and less of a "OMG, he mentioned JK/JM" moment for us. They have shown us for years, but more so over the past year, just how important they are to each other, but even more so, just how intertwined their lives are with one another. They literally could not even part ways to do their military service!! Choosing to spend those 18 months together, even if it meant having to endure much harsher conditions and a much more difficult service as a whole. All to be able to be together. With each other. What I'm saying is that I do think we will be getting so much more of "US" from those two.
Openly and proudly.
US.
One last thing, and again this is either Jikook coincidence or kismet or maybe not too much of a coincidence and more of a conscious decision, but JM's post yesterday, 23 Nov 2024, was posted on the year mark of Jikook leaving for their oh so very special and emotionally charged Japan trip, 23 Nov 2023.
💜💜💜
Coincidence or not, we got Jikook back then, and after radio silence from those two for such a long time, we got Jikook yesterday again!!!
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Could you write “How would Viktor does when reader has depression”.
Of course! Thanks for the ask pookie :)
These r a little short because I am still ill (and my head is literally killing me as I type this) but Viktor is more important than getting well!! (Also bawling my eyes out after act 3, even though I'd still love Viktor nonetheless, machine or not, he's getting it)
WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO: Mentions of Depression (obviously), GN!Reader, sweet Fluff, Viktor has no clue what he's doing in all honesty, he tries (and succeeds) to be sweet
2 Stories - One more casual/not yet dating and the other is established relationship
You've been off lately, Viktor had noticed. Isolating yourself bit by bit, looking more tired and overall acting just weird. You've had your phases before, but this one was too long. It wasn't like you at all. You've barely even spoken to him or Jayce, when usually you'd yap both their ears off about whatever topic you had learned about the previous night. Now, the lab was silent. Jayce was away on some Council party, and god knows Viktor would never start a conversation on his own while working. Though, he couldn't focus tonight. He mindlessly tinkered with small parts that laid around his desk, his thoughts clouded with the question of what was bothering you. Whatever it was, it bothered him as well. He'd never say, but he missed the cheery and chipper way you'd usually be.
"Are you... alright?" He questions after a while, clearing his throat slightly. This was already too awkward for him, but he did care. Totally just because the atmosphere of the lab would suffer if you weren't your usual self. He noticed the way you shifted uncomfortably as he glanced over to where you were sitting, like you were pondering how to answer. He wondered why you'd need so long to think of an answer, as if you couldn't tell him the truth. "I'm fine. Just a little tired, I just haven't been sleeping well." You answer, a soft, akward chuckle slipping from your lips. Viktor doesn't like that answer. You're different from how you are when you're just tired - not that he actually paid attention to that, but you weren't on your fifth cup of coffee yet. Actually, you hadn't had coffee at all today, another unusual happening. He sighs softly, and you immediatly know that he's gotten into questioning mode - he was a scientist after all. He really couldn't help it. "You can talk to me, you know? We don't have to be lab partners and nothing else, we can be friends." He speaks, his voice softer than before. "What's bothering you, hm?" Viktor adds, turning his chair around to look at you properly. It's your turn to sigh, letting your head hang slightly. "I've just been... feeling off. Like, actually tired but in a mental way? I don't know how to explain." You mutter, awkwardly averting your gaze from him. "We should take a day off, then. Do whatever you want instead of working." Viktor answers casually. "I don't want to miss important stuff in the lab Viktor, I can't take a day off." You throw back at him. He huffs, a slight chuckle filling the room. "Not you. Us. Maybe all three, if Jayce is willing." He clarifies, already noting it down in his notebook to make sure that day off actually happens.
Viktor noticed the moment he woke up next to you. You'd fallen into another slump. He could tell just by the way you didn't just not want to get up - it was a physical challenge for you. He's seen you like this before, though usually it didn't last too long, at least not that he's noticed, maybe only a day or two at most. But by now, it's been almost a week, and you haven't spoken to him about it. You've been more abrasive, have started caring less about your personal hygiene, and while Viktor doesn't mind, he always hated when you didn't take proper care of yourself. He wanted you to feel good, not fall into a depressive hole. He offered to take a shower or bath with you, to make a game out of brushing your teeth, but you had shut everything down. It wasn't because you didn't think the ideas were sweet, but more because you didn't think you even deserved that much effort. Viktor had to helplessly watch you get worse, and he couldn't even do anything to properly help. It was absolute hell to him.
He'd had enough, wanted to be mad at you, even, but he couldn't blame you for it. He could, however, force you to stay cuddled up in bed with him. You liked staying in bed anyway, and cuddling with him was always one of your favourites. So, here you two were, snuggled into the covers of Viktors way too confortable bed. "You know that I love you, right?" Viktor mumbled, his accent more heavy with sleep. He didn't say it enough, at least that's what he thought. "I do know..." you answered, just as sleepily. "I know you can't control this.. but let me help you, please? I know it's hard, trust me I do, but I hate having to watch from the sidelines as you get worse..." He sighs, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "Let me just be there for you, yeah, my dear?" Viktor adds, pulling away slightly to look at you. "Alright.. I'll... I'll try, I promise." You answer, scooting back towards him so you could press your face into the crook of his neck, basking in his warmth for a little longer.
#x reader#gn reader#arcane#gender neutral reader#viktor arcane x reader#viktor x you#viktor x reader#viktor league of legends#viktor arcane#viktor lol#viktor x gn!reader#viktor fluff#arcane season 2
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NIGHT CONFESSIONS
— aaron hotchner x toretto!fem!reader
— summary: in a cleared night, aaron shares what would be his perfect life if he leaves the bau.
— c/w: i think none?
— w/c: 1.1k
— a/n: hi! how are you guys? this is the first work of my toretto!reader universe (the reader is also part of bau)! i hope you guys like it and let me know your thoughts, my ask box is always open to talk/share things! ! english is not my first language, so forgive me if there are any mistakes!
The night seemed to have been painted by hand, the clear sky displayed a sea of twinkling stars that stretched as far as the eye could see. The full moon cast its silvery light over the clear field, drawing soft wisps in the grass that moved slightly with the breeze. The fresh air carried the subtle scent of the earth and the wildflowers that surrounded the secluded lawn.
Aaron walked ahead, holding a wicker basket in one firm hand, while the other held her hand at his side. His steps were calm, almost soundless, as if he feared breaking the tranquility that this moment produced. Next to him, she held the blanket, adjusting it on her arm, her eyes shining with anticipation.
"This is it." he announced softly, stopping beside a perfect clearing, surrounded by trees whose branches swayed in an almost imperceptible rhythm. He placed the basket on the ground, turning to pick up the blanket and observing for a moment the delicate smile she gave him, full of warmth and complicity.
"It's even more beautiful than I imagined," she said, looking up at the endless sky, where a few stars seemed to twinkle just for them.
Aaron smiled, a rare expression reserved only for the most special moments, but full of sincerity. "I knew you'd like it."
He took the blanket from her hands and opened it carefully, spreading it out on the soft ground. The sound of the fabric meeting the grass mingled with the whisper of the wind as they lay down, ready to let the night envelop their conversations and comfortable silences.
The two of them sat on the blanket, observing how the world seemed to have shrunk to fit only in the clearing that Aaron had meticulously chosen. The basket was open at the side, revealing a small feast that had been carefully prepared. He poured the wine into two simple glasses, the red liquid reflecting the soft moonlight. As he handed her one of the glasses, his fingers brushed hers briefly — it was a deliberate touch, small, but so full of tenderness that it made them both smile softly.
"I can't believe you brought this." she said, holding up a small container with an amused smile.
Aaron glanced over and raised an eyebrow. "You like cheesecake, don't you?"
"I like it, but the last time we ate together was during a case. Have you forgotten that we were on duty?"
He let out a low laugh, a rare, almost musical sound. "I don't forget the most important things," he replied, his joking tone hiding the genuine affection in his words.
As they lay side by side on the blanket, the two of them watched the starry sky above, a spectacle of bright dots scattered like dust of light. The silence around them was broken only by the soft sound of the wind between the trees and the occasional murmur of some nocturnal creature.
Aaron, who was resting with his hands intertwined behind his head, kept his gaze fixed on a more distant constellation, which he vaguely recognized, but couldn't remember its name. She, next to him, was lying on her side with her head resting on one hand, watching him with a small smile on her face.
"What are you thinking?" her voice was low, almost a whisper, as if she didn't want to disturb the serenity of the night.
He took a few seconds before answering, his eyes still fixed on the sky. "I sometimes wonder what it would be like if things were simpler." Aaron turned his head to face her, his face serious but his eyes gentle. "If I could leave everything behind. The pressure of being the leader of the BAU, the weight of each case… and just live."
She didn't respond immediately, absorbing the rare moment of vulnerability. Aaron was always the strong one, the stable one. Seeing him open up that side of himself was a privilege.
"And what would you do?" she asked, curiosity tinged with tenderness taking over her heart.
He let out a short sigh, almost a muffled laugh. "Maybe I'd buy a small house somewhere quiet. I'd spend my days tending the garden, with Jack. Reading. Cooking." he paused, his eyes returning to the sky, as if he were seeing that future projected onto the stars. "And, of course, I wouldn't do it alone."
She felt her heart squeeze at the confession. She slid her hand down to meet his and intertwined their fingers. "I think you'd get on very well. And, if I can, I'd like to be there with you."
Aaron turned his face to look at her, his eyes reflecting something between surprise and gratitude. "What about you? What's your dream?"
"My dream is simple," she replied, smiling softly. "To buy a house near my family and build a life there. Me, you, and Jack, all together. That's enough for me."
A comfortable silence once again filled the air between them. The vulnerability that ran between them needed no explanation, just the certainty that they were both there, exactly where they were supposed to be.
The night continued to envelop them in a gentle embrace. The world around them was completely silent, as if absorbing any external sound that dared to disturb the moment between them.
Aaron turned his head slightly, his eyes discreetly studying her. There was something almost ethereal about the way the moonlight caressed her face, highlighting each feature with a delicacy that seemed to have been stolen from a dream. He allowed himself a rare smile, so small that it almost went unnoticed.
"You know," he began, his voice a hoarse whisper that seemed to blend in with the sound of the night. "It's nights like this that make me believe that maybe I'm doing something right in life."
She turned to him, her gaze full of curiosity. "What do you mean?
Aaron looked back up at the sky, taking a deep breath before replying. "For everything I've been through, everything I've seen… meeting you, having moments like this, makes me think that there are good things waiting for me. And you're one of them"
The silence returned, but this time it was thick with the force of what had been said. She reached out, gently touching his face, before pulling him into an embrace. They moved even closer, their bodies aligned together, each other's warmth protecting them from the chill of the night.
"Do you promise we'll do it again?" came a low, almost hesitant voice.
Aaron closed his eyes for a moment, resting his cheek against his shoulder. "Whenever you want."
And so, with the starry sky as a witness, the bond between them grew even stronger, like the roots of a tree that grows slowly but steadily, destined to last.
#criminal minds x reader#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fic
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The song is about Viktor losing his humanity.
It's not about ships.
It's about saying goodbye to his old self, for us to remember who he was. The scientist that wanted to do good, to help people.
Of course Sky is an important part of it. He had to let her go. She was the last remaining part of his humanity, bc he let himself feel when he was with her. He also had to let Jayce go, his best friend, his partner, to pursue a better future where his feelings didn't get in the way. He had to let his parents go, even if they are not mentioned in the series, we know they loved him deeply.
Evolution has a price, but Viktor has always wanted to help people and he will sacrifice everything to do so.
He's not prepared to die and he's afraid. He has lived sick most of his life, battling with his illness.
He deserves everything. He wanted the best for the ones in need, never for himself.
And he had everything for a few months. He helped people like he wanted, he felt loved, he had a healthy body, he used the technology he discovered, and he did everything from the love and passion he had for progress, science and people.
But as an ex lol player I knew this would come. It sad, it hurts, but he understands the price he has to pay to do greater things. He will still help people but from another perspective.
I love him so much. I know that in another universe he's happy, healthy and loved.
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Who Could Ask You Be Unbroken Or Be Brave Again - BuckTommy (one-shot)
Summary: When Buck figures out that he's pregnant just a few weeks after the break-up, he has to tell Tommy. They talk. Words: 3.1k Notes: Sooooo I actually started writing this last week and I pictured a different fic entirely and yet I like to go where the journey takes me so here we are. Mpreg is a feature, but not like the most important part of this fic, though I know the fandom has taken it and run with it. The title comes from Hozier's To Noise Making Read on Ao3
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If it weren’t for Maddie, Buck probably wouldn’t have figured it out. Well, he would have eventually. Probably.
When he was on the cusp of teenagehood, the nurse at school had come in to have a talk with his class. The boys and the girls were separated and Buck remembered watching a badly shot movie. She had passed out a paper to take home at the end, information for their parents. Buck didn’t remember if his parents had even bothered to read it, much less take the advice. As a consequence, when all the rest of the boys in his class got tested, Buck didn’t. Later on, it just didn’t matter because Buck wasn’t having sex with guys so what difference did it make if he was a carrier? Then, when he got together with Tommy, it hadn’t even crossed his mind.
So, he never knew that he could get pregnant.
Not until he was pregnant.
Not until he was leaning over his toilet, knees on the hard floor, stomach empty. Not until he remembered Maddie and the brie he’d baked for her and how when he’d cut a piece of the banana bread earlier the smell of the bananas had made him feel sick.
Not until he managed to make it out of the apartment and to the nearest pharmacy where he stared at the pregnancy tests until finally just grabbing four at random. He was glad the girl at the checkout didn’t say anything.
They all came back positive.
There was no denying it.
In the bathroom, he took off his t-shirt and looked down at his abdomen. There was nothing different about his body, but eventually it would change. He would round out, growing a life in the womb that Buck hadn’t even known he had. Tentatively, he touched his stomach. In that moment he realized that he hadn’t even thought about it before already knowing that he was doing it. He would have the baby. He was going to be a dad.
Tommy had left him — had left them.
He was the other dad.
Buck had to throw up.
Pregnant. He was pregnant. He was housing life, a life created out of him and Tommy…Tommy was gone. He had walked out of Buck’s life without a look back and Buck was once again the one that was left behind except that this time it wasn’t only him. His hand drifted to his abdomen. There was a baby in there.
That was when the tears began anew.
What the hell was he going to do?
Buck had cried for the better part of an hour after Tommy left. Then, he cried on Eddie’s couch and couldn’t even get the words out for why.
“He dumped me,” he’d said eventually. “Tommy dumped me.”
Then, the tears had started again.
He cried when he got home the next morning and immediately he had to talk himself out of calling Tommy.
Eddie had told him to stay busy and keep his mind off of it. To not reach out to Tommy.
So, he focused on making himself dinner that night and after the lasagna was in the oven, he decided he may as well go out and eat all his feelings. Not to mention that he really wanted brownies.
So, he found an outlet. Baking was better than crying. It was better than having to hide his phone from himself so that by the time he found it he’d be over the urge to call or text.
Buck had almost convinced himself that he could keep going and that he wouldn’t cry over Tommy again, but he was crying again. Over Tommy. Over the break up. Over the tiny life that should have brought so much joy to both of them. Not that Buck wasn’t happy…not that the idea of being a dad didn’t excite him. It was just the timing and the circumstances. Tommy wasn’t there with him and Buck…
He needed to tell him.
Tommy needed to know.
Or maybe…maybe Buck could do it on his own. He could love this baby more than enough. Tommy had already made his choice on Buck, why would he come back just because Buck was pregnant. Buck wasn’t enough for him, the future that Buck wanted and that Buck had dangled in front of himself had been shot down without his say and this was not going to change anything, not if Tommy had thought their six months together was some fun and nothing further than that.
A baby was…it was a big commitment. Eighteen years at least and it wasn’t about Buck, but the idea that Tommy might not react well to the news…
But, no, that was unfair. Tommy would at least feel the obligation to his child even if it was detached, even if it was just monetary. He would do right by the baby even if they weren’t together anymore. That…that hurt. It was like a stab right to the chest. This was not the way it was supposed to be.
He sobbed, wiped at his eyes but the tears kept coming. Maybe he didn’t tell him. Maybe he didn’t find out how Tommy would react and…
But no.
If it was the other way around and Tommy found out he was pregnant and didn’t tell Buck, Buck would never forgive him. He had to tell him.
Wiping at the last of his tears, Buck went to the kitchen to grab water.
Four positive tests. He needed to get a doctor’s appointment to confirm and then prenatal vitamins? What else? Was his apartment even an okay place in which to raise a baby? With the stairs and the balcony and how his bedroom wasn’t even really a room. And then there was his job. How long could he keep working before it was too dangerous? Was it already dangerous?
Buck thought about calling Maddie. She was pregnant herself and she could help but the thought of telling her and not Tommy. Of telling anyone but Tommy…
He had to tell him. Buck reached for his phone.
He couldn’t tell him over the phone and the thought of Tommy not picking up his call or leaving him on read or…what if he’d blocked Buck’s number? But no…Tommy wouldn’t do that.
It was a Tuesday and Tommy didn’t usually work on Tuesdays. Unless he’d changed things…unless he’d been called into a fire. It didn’t mean he’d be at home, but it couldn’t hurt to try.
So, he got shoes on, stuffed his phone and wallet in his pocket and grabbed his keys. Grabbed a few loaves out of his fridge for good measure. The remaining brownie pan too.
Buck almost talked himself out of it on the drive over, but then he was pulling into Tommy’s driveway behind his truck. He waited a few more minutes before he got out of the car and started walking to the door. He raised his hand and knocked.
Tommy had given him a key. It was still sitting next to the keys to his apartment. If this went badly, he supposed that he could give the key back. It would really be over, not that it hadn’t before. It was just that a part of Buck had hoped that if given enough time they might find each other again. It was silly and maybe it spoke to how many romcoms he and Tommy had watched together. Now…now he was pregnant and it changed everything.
He knocked again.
Heard movement from inside and then the door opened.
Tommy looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
“Buck,” he said.
Buck decided to ignore that. “We need to talk,” he said.
“I — yeah, sure.”
Tommy stepped aside and Buck followed him in.
“Do you…do you want a drink?” Tommy asked.
The awkward energy between them killed him. It had never been like this between them before…okay, maybe after Buck messed up their first date, but even then it hadn’t been this. Buck shook his head.
“What is all that?”
“Oh. I, uh, I started baking and…anyway, these are for you.”
Tommy took them and walked them into the kitchen. Buck followed. Nothing had changed since he’d been there last and the thought it might have and that Tommy could have moved on or something. Three weeks…it had really only been three weeks long as that felt.
“What did you want to talk about?” Tommy asked, not even looking at Buck.
How did he say it? Did he just blurt it out? On the drive over nothing had come to mind and Buck had never not known how to just say things except this time it was…it was so much harder.
“Ev—Buck?”
“I — I’m…I have some news.”
“News?”
The words got caught in his throat.
“Buck, is everything alright?”
“I’m going to…pregnant. Maddie’s pregnant.”
“Oh.” Tommy said with a confused chuckle. “You’re becoming an uncle again.”
And a dad.
Buck gulped. “Yeah. I am.”
Tommy still looked confused.
“I found out by accident. They don’t want anyone to know, but I had to tell someone. Don’t say anything.”
“Is that all?” Tommy asked, cautiously.
Buck wanted to shake his head and to tell him it wasn’t only Maddie. It was Buck too.
“We never talked about kids,” he found himself saying instead. “Among other things, but I never asked if you wanted kids. Do you?”
It felt pointed. It felt like Buck was giving himself away. Tommy seemed a little confused.
“Uh…I don’t know,” he settled on. “Never thought I would have any, but it’s not like I don’t like children. I guess I never really thought it was a real option or a deal breaker. Why are we talking about kids?”
“I’m…I don’t know. Just a thought,” Buck said. “I’ve always wanted to be a dad.”
“You want family,” Tommy said. “You'll get another niece or nephew soon.”
“Yeah,” Buck breathed and it took everything in him not to touch his stomach. Not just a niece or nephew, a son or daughter. Tommy’s too.
“Did you…was there anything else?” Tommy asked.
“I — that is—”
“Evan?” Tommy said. “You’re…are you alright?”
He took a breath. “It doesn’t have to change anything,” he said. “I know you don’t want it to. You made that pretty clear. This isn’t like me trapping you or anything. I’m not. I just know that if it were the other way around I’d want to know and I’d want you to tell me. And no one else knows because you should be the first to know even though you kinda broke my heart there and that’s not going away. You know my fridge is full of loaves. I needed an outlet and so I started baking and I can’t seem to stop. I’m—”
“Evan, take a breath,” Tommy said.
Buck did. He took several and when he looked at Tommy again, he found concern in his gaze.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m…well, as it turns out, I’m—” he couldn’t get the words out.
“Are you sick? What’s happening? Evan, are you alright?”
Tommy’s hand reached out to him, but fell short and drew back.
“I’m not sick,” Buck said. “That’s not…I mean, that’s not what I would call this. I’m…Tommy, I’m pregnant.”
Once the words were out, he felt lighter. His hand had drifted back down over his abdomen. Still flat, but for how long? When would he start showing? Hell, Buck didn’t even know how far along he was or anything else.
Tommy was staring at his hand and then his eyes flickered back to Buck’s face.
“Pregnant,” Tommy said.
Buck nodded.
“You’re a carrier. You never said.”
“Yeah…I didn’t know until…until now.”
Tommy inhaled a breath and Buck could see that his mind was spinning, that he maybe didn’t even know what to say or think and Buck…Buck needed to leave. He’d told him, it was what he’d come to do and that was it.
“I just wanted you to know. No obligation. No expectations. Just…that’s what’s happening. I’m pregnant and I’m going to keep it.”
Tommy didn’t say anything.
“I guess now you know. I’ll…I’ll go. See you around, Tommy.”
Buck made it to the door. He was turning the doorknob and trying to pretend that his eyes weren’t filling up with tears when he heard a gentle:
“Wait.”
And then Tommy’s hand was on his wrist and Buck turned.
Tommy’s hand left his wrist but then he was cradling Buck’s face, thumbs wiping away his tears.
“I was scared,” Tommy said.
“Scared? You? But that’s, what is there for you to be scared of? I’m the pregnant one.”
Tommy’s hands dropped from his face. “That,” he said. “You think I can’t be scared in this?” He motioned between them. “That it didn’t freak me out the moment you asked me to move in with you in the same sentence that you said you liked me for my confidence without even—”
Buck watched him. Watched the way that his shoulders were hunched and how he gulped.
“You don’t see me, Evan, and if you don’t see me…the real me and not whoever you’ve made me out to be then this was never going to work. The moment I realized it wasn’t…that it wasn’t. I did this for you and for me. And now—” Tommy’s gaze met Buck’s dead on, “now you’re pregnant.”
“I don’t see you?” Buck asked.
He stepped away from the door. He laughed and turned away from Tommy before he looked back at him.
“I see what you’ve let me see,” Buck said. “I see who you presented yourself to be and if you’re telling me now that you were lying about who you are then…then that’s—”
“It’s not what I’m saying,” Tommy broke in. “I’m saying you put me on some…on some pedestal that I don’t belong on. I’ve hurt people. Abby. Hen. Chim. Hid my sexuality to my own detriment and the detriment of others. I lied and lied and lied and…and it’s—”
Buck reached for him, grabbed his hand and made Tommy look at him. “You did it because you were protecting yourself from a world that wasn’t going to accept you. What I admire is how far you’ve come. What I admire is that you lived through it got to this side of it and can choose to be happy. Except that you don’t think you deserve it. I see you, Tommy.”
“Evan,” Tommy said.
Buck grasped Tommy’s other hand.
“Did you know I hate the way you leave your clothes in piles instead of putting them in your hamper, the way that you always forget to put the cap back on the toothpaste. You never close a cabinet. Some of your jokes are not funny and it shouldn’t have taken six months for you to tell me about Abby. I guess I’m to blame for that too because I didn’t tell you about her either. I hate how you never talked about Gerrard with me, not really. I hate the way you always take Eddie’s side and that the two of you always make fun of me. The first sign of trouble and you run. You’re not perfect, Thomas. But you know what, I love you anyway.”
The silence that fell between them lasted a few beats. They couldn’t look away from each other and there were tears slipping out of the corners of his eyes.
“You scare me,” Tommy said, voice rough. “And I’ve been kicking myself since that night but I didn’t know…I couldn’t call or text because I walked away and I thought it was for the best. I’m broken, Evan, and if you ever saw that and didn’t — didn’t—” Tommy’s voice broke.
“I love you,” Buck said. “And you’re not broken, because if you are then I am too.”
Tommy actually let out a sob and his face crumpled. Buck had never seen him like that. He’d seen him worried and smiling and confused. He’d seen the way that his lips turned down that night when they broke up, but he’d never seen this. The way that the wrinkles around his eyes were deepened and his mouth was so turned down and how red it made his skin.
Buck reached for him, pulled Tommy’s face down to his neck. He rubbed at his back and then ran a hand through his hair and Tommy sobbed and wet his shoulder with his tears and Buck held him and cried his own tears. It felt amazing to actually have Tommy in his arms, though the rest of it…the tears and the sobs was new.
There was no knowing how long they stood there, until Tommy pulled back, wiping at his face with one hand. He didn’t go far, though Buck could tell that maybe he wanted to. When he finally looked at Buck, he looked a little more put together.
“You’re pregnant,” he said.
Tommy’s hand fell to Buck’s abdomen. There was nothing to feel there yet. They both knew that, but Buck put his hand over Tommy’s.
“I am,” Buck said. “It doesn’t have to change anything.”
Tommy let out a strangled laugh. “It’s going to change some things. Evan, you’re going to be the best dad.”
“So are you,” Buck said and inhaled. “Right? I mean, you don’t have to be if you don’t—”
“I want to be,” Tommy said. “I don’t know how good I’ll be at it, it’s not like I had a great example. What I do know is that I am so in love with you and there is no way I’m letting you do this on your own. No way that I am walking away from you or this baby.”
Buck kissed him and Tommy responded at once, hungrily and like he was hoping to impart upon Buck every bit of his love through that kiss.
They probably had a lot more to talk about. So much to figure out about them and about the baby. Buck could see more tears and more arguments, but if there was one thing that he could count on, it was that they would make it through it. They’d made it through this break up already any other hurdles or hardships could be dealt with.
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From Goth to Ghost
Here is my second fic for @ecto-implosion! I was so excited to get @blonchie's art for this round. It is sooooo fun and silly and ah it made for such a great writing experience! Please do yourself a favor and CHECK IT OUT!
Thank you to @lexiepiper and @fridurwrites for betaing!
Characters: Sam, Danny, Tucker Tags/warnings: No Warnings, Halfa!Sam (temporarily) Summary: The last thing Sam expected to wake up to was her body frozen on her bed. But unfortunately, thanks to a certain jock's midnight ponderings and the interference of one wish-granting ghost, that was exactly how she started off her morning.
[read on ao3]
[part 2]
****
In a land far, far away, a figure sat on his bed staring wistfully out his window. The moon gazed back at him, bright and round as it was. A shining beacon of hope for all teen boys around the globe. A message that no matter what trials lay ahead, they could face anything.
This boy in particular didn't just hear that message, but he internalized it deep inside his very soul. He pondered it, he tossed and turned it in his head, folding it gently like a baker mixing fluffy, delicate cake batter. He tasted it, added a pinch of salt, some sugar, a little more flour, mixing—but not over-mixing—until the batter was just right.
It was a powerful feeling, these sorts of deep, poetic thoughts. When most of his day was spent replaying football plays in his brain, or thinking of nicknames for a certain, dweeby classmate of his, having moments where he could just be one with his deepest thoughts was almost meditative.
Not that he meditated, of course. Meditating was for hippies and girls, and he was neither of these things.
For he was strong, he was powerful, and he was truly the master of his own brain. This was why, as he pondered the essence of the Universe and all its inhabitants, he was so lost in thought that he nearly missed the shooting star jetting across the sky.
But, of course, he didn't miss that shooting star—which could have been an airplane, actually—because he could never miss such fine, delectable details about life such as that.
Well, it didn't really matter if that shooting star was moving far too slowly to be a shooting star after all. Perhaps it was a satellite?
This was a topic that a certain nerd would know. Not that this boy cared at all about that dweeb.
Most important, was addressing the reason for all his pondering in the first place. Which was the fact that the local ghost boy was, confusingly, very attractive.
Which made no sense. Phantom was dead. And also a boy. And this intelligent, strong, charismatic soul pondering out his window was a boy, too, and also very much alive.
Was it gay if he was dead?
Either way, it didn't make any sense for him to be attracted to that ghost. Even if they were both very amazing, handsome guys, and even if maybe it would be very cool to date a hero.
Well, as this charismatic and kind young teen stared out his window at the passing definitely-not-a-satellite shooting star and the full moon beside it, an idea suddenly popped into his head.
It was a great idea, really, following the storybooks.
And so, Dash opened his mouth and wished upon a shooting star, "I wish Phantom was a chick."
****
"So you have wished it, so it shall be."
****
Something was off.
That was the first thing Sam knew, even before she was fully conscious. She lay there in her half-asleep daze, trying to fight the looming dread of her morning alarm, and the only thing that her brain could think of was the ever-encroaching feeling in her chest and mind that something, somewhere, was off.
But her alarm hadn't gone off yet, so really, what was there to worry about? It was probably just the vestiges of her mother's voice from last night needling her brain. Sam couldn't even remember now what they'd been arguing about—probably about her wardrobe, again—but either way, it wasn't important.
So, she fell back asleep.
...
And shot up in her bed.
Wait, why did it feel like she was breathing ice?
That wasn't right.
She placed a hand on her chest, and something pushed back.
She froze. Her blood ran cold.
Literally.
She froze herself to her bed.
Sam stared down at her frost-covered legs, her blanket doing little more to keep her warm than acting as a decorative set piece. Her jaw unhinged in a manner that would have had her mom screaming at her to mind your manners, young lady—but her screams were silent, and each breath sent shards of microscopic ice from her lips.
Her room's temperature plummeted, surely, but Sam could hardly feel it. In fact, it felt better to her now that the air was cold.
And then, her brain caught up, too quickly, and began moving light-years beyond her body. Because holy shit, she'd seen this before, she'd heard of this before, from one person, from Danny.
This she felt in her chest was a core. A ghost core. And this frost was ghost powers, and her ice was ecto-ice, and everything about her screamed Danny's ghost powers.
She must have been dreaming. That was right, she was definitely dreaming. There was no way she was a ghost. She hadn't died! She'd gone to sleep last night healthy and happy—okay, she'd gotten in a fight with her mom. But still! Her mom was a total Karen, but she wouldn't have killed Sam in her sleep. She was crazy, but not that kind of crazy.
Before her brain could spiral too far, the cursed sound of her alarm snapped her back to reality. Except, her hands had frozen to her pajamas.
And she had no idea how to turn her powers off.
Great. So, not only was she dead, but she was also cursed to be the most obnoxiously annoying haunted-mansion ghost that Amity Park's ever known.
Perfect. It was just what every goth always dreamed.
How did Danny turn this thing off? His powers tended to flare when he was agitated, which meant she just had to calm down.
Okay.
Yeah.
She could totally calm down.
She sat there, head spinning, the alarm still blaring, and half expecting her mother to storm the gate that was her bedroom door and demand Sam get out of bed right this instant, but no, that wasn't helping.
So she closed her eyes and breathed.
Just breathed.
She thought of a warm day. Even if the goth inside her wanted shadows, she thought of the sun. A human sun, on a warm day, with a full-blue sky that turned into a warm, summer night. Peaceful, surrounded by nature, roasting vegetarian hot dogs around the campfire with her two geeky homebody friends who'd finally put down their technology to join her in this moment.
Her fingers wiggled, and it took Sam a moment to realize that the ecto-frost was gone. When she opened her eyes, her clothing and bedding were dry like the frost had never been there to begin with.
But before she could wonder if she'd gone crazy, she felt another pulse from that alien chill in her chest, and reality hit her like a truck all over again.
BEEP BEEP BEEP!
She shut off her alarm.
The world was finally, finally silent.
And Sam was afraid to move. Afraid that one wrong twitch would set off her new ghost powers again. Afraid that next time, her mother really was going to barrel through her door and gasp and faint because, "Oh, Sammykins! What happened to you?"
She looked at her hands, but human skin stared back at her.
Human skin. Not glowing, green-tinged ghost skin. Human skin.
She peeled back her comforter, but her legs didn't glow either. They were dressed in the same black and purple fleece pants she always wore to sleep. Not a ghost outfit, a human one.
What. The. Hell.
Without thinking, she grabbed her phone from her nightstand and swiped to the one name on her contact list she knew could help.
Or, she hoped.
The phone rang in her ear. One ring, two, then three. Sam's heart thudded in her ears. Wait, heart? Since when did she have a heart?
This idiot had better be awake.
Four rings, then five.
If she had a heart, then maybe she wasn't dead. Danny had a functioning heart, didn't he? Sam couldn't remember. His biology was so strange and inconsistent. Maybe he did, which meant that maybe Sam wasn't dead dead; maybe she was just a halfa!
But how?
On the sixth ring, he picked up. His voice was thick, full of unshed sleep as he mumbled in a scratchy, drawn-out voice, "Sam? Wha...?"
"Danny!" Sam could taste the relief on her lips. "Danny, I need your help. I don't—something—"
"Whoa." Danny's voice on the other end was low, and oddly alert.
But whatever issue he was having could hold off. "I don't know how to explain this! I just. You need to. Ugh, I don't know what's happening!"
"Wait," he said, almost distracted, as if he weren't actually talking to Sam.
No, her problems came first right now. "Danny, please!"
"Wait, wait, wait. Hang on, Sam, something—"
"I have a ghost core!"
"My core is missing!"
Silence echoed off the walls of the cell line between them. Sam's body was a cacophony of both wanting to breathe hard because that was what her body was used to, and also scoffing at the idea of breathing to calm down because breathing was pointless and she was a ghost, damnit! She could do better than that! Even though she wasn't a ghost. She was alive, she reminded herself.
Even if absolutely none of this should be possible.
It was Danny who broke the silence first. "Wait, what?"
Sam needed no further prompting to let the words spill from her mouth. "I have a ghost core now! I just woke up like this and I have no idea how it happened!"
To Sam's surprise, Danny began to laugh.
Genuinely laugh.
"What the hell, Danny?" Sam hissed. Around her, the lights flickered.
"No, sorry, it's just that I'm glad that this mystery is already halfway solved. If you were anyone else, I don't know what I would have done."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm saying my core is gone, Sam! Not off, but like, gone. It's not in my chest anymore. I'm human. But you have a ghost core. So somehow it seems like my core moved into your body."
Sam jerked back in bed, leaning against her disheveled cushions and scoffing. "That's ridiculous."
Danny didn't miss a beat. "Yeah, but my entire life is ridiculous. That's kind of part of the deal."
"Okay, fair. But still, what the hell am I going to do? I don't know how to use this core! I'm going to get discovered by first period!"
"Sam." Danny laughed. "Be real. I've transformed in the middle of the street and no one's ever caught me."
Well, he did have a point.
"Seriously, you'll be fine. And besides, even if you do accidentally turn invisible in front of someone, everyone in this town knows that when people get ecto-contamination, they sometimes show weird ghostly side effects. It wouldn't be too hard to say, oh I don't know, you accidentally dropped a beaker of one of my parents' inventions on you and you're just having some side effects while it wears off!"
If Sam wasn't trying to reassure herself that everything would be okay, she might have been impressed at how easily Danny thought of that simple lie. Impressed, and also maybe a little concerned.
"You'll be fine! Just hang tight ‘til we can figure out what's going on, anyway."
"Sure," she said. She breathed, releasing the knot in her stomach as she did. "Okay, okay, I'm good now."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Okay, see you in a bit."
She clicked off before he could respond, and her phone slipped through intangible fingers, bouncing against her mattress and settling next to her leg.
She had ghost powers.
Not just any ghost powers, but Danny's ghost powers.
Somehow.
Inexplicably.
Neither of them had a single clue why, but somehow, they'd managed to swap human-halfa statuses.
So, Sam had Danny's ghost powers. His Phantom powers. The powers he, an overpowered halfa, used to fight other ghosts. And now, Sam had them in the palm of her hand.
Literally.
And she had to act normal.
Right. Yes. Yup, that was fine. This was all totally fine.
"Sammykins!" the nails-on-chalkboard sound of her mother's shrill voice called from the bannister. "Get up! You're going to be late for school!"
Sam could feel the ectoblast tingling at her fingertips.
But no, this wasn't a dangerous creature. Okay, her mother was absolutely a dangerous creature, especially when given the power of the PTA on her side.
Sam shuddered. The PTA was everyone in town's worst nightmare.
But still, this was her mother, a human. A very annoying, preppy woman. Not a dangerous ghost. So, she squashed the tingling of the ectoplasm and jumped from her bed. "I know!"
Showering was odd. More than odd, actually, it was downright outrageous.
The hot water licked her skin like fire. It was muggy, and the humidity, once relaxing, suffocated her. Her internal body temperature rose with each passing second, and where she used to cry a defensive, "Goths don't sweat, we simmer!" to those who would poke fun at her not-so-summer attire, now, that simmering felt more like actual boiling.
Her hand shot out and yanked the lever to the cold setting. Almost immediately, the water went from trying to slow-roast her alive, to gently kissing her skin.
She sighed, both relief and horror filling her at once.
Relief because wow, this cold shower was seriously amazing.
And horror because to her recollection, the only people on Earth who enjoyed icy cold showers were male social media influencers who posted about waking up at five in the morning for the daily rise and grind.
If ghost powers turned her into a rise and grinder, Sam was going to kill herself.
Miraculously, she managed to get through the morning without her mother noticing anything. Well, probably because Sam and her mother rarely if ever interacted face-to-face in the morning. If they did, all Pam could manage was a comment about how Sam's outfit wasn't ladylike, while Sam could only respond with a scowl in her mother's direction. So, for both of their sanities, they found it best to interact as little as possible before they had their morning coffees.
Intangibility only caused her to drop her spider backpack once before she was able to sling the straps over her shoulders. It really was such a pesky thing, and she almost regretted all the times when she'd made fun of Danny's sudden clumsiness post-accident.
Almost.
But not quite.
Because what were best friends for if not to make fun of each other?
"Bye, Mom!" she yelled to the empty air and then stepped through the threshold of the door.
Or, tried.
She hadn't meant to literally step through the threshold. As in, begin sinking through the floor.
Heart pounding, she swung her hands out and caught the side of the doorframe. Using a mix of adrenaline and physical training, she pulled her body back up. Her legs returned to the world of tangibility, and she sat on the floor, breathing rapidly.
Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.
What the hell was that?
She'd just stepped through the floor. She'd just stepped through the floor.
"Sam!" yelled out a voice from the street.
She'd never been so thankful to see the obnoxious yellow of Tucker's sweater before.
She opened her mouth, but the words caught in her throat, and her vision began swimming. Had Danny told him? Or was Tucker blissfully unaware? How was Sam going to explain all this?
Thankfully, Sam was saved.
"Need some help?" Tucker asked. "Danny texted!"
Normally, she would have felt insulted that anyone dare ask if she needed help up. But this time? Screw it.
"Yeah, actually."
"Are you leaving?" Sam's mother called from the bathroom upstairs where Sam knew she was layering her face under a mountain of anti-ageing products.
"Yup! Going now!" Sam answered. "Tucker's here!"
"Tell him not to walk on the lawn! I just got it trimmed!"
Sam rolled her eyes, turning back to the sound of Tucker’s footsteps traversing up their flawlessly power-washed walkway.
"Here." He held out his arm. "Don't worry, no one's looking."
Once convinced she wasn't going to start sinking to the other side of the planet again, Sam gingerly stood and tested her feet against the floor.
Her brain was happy to report that the floor was, in fact, solid.
Thank goodness.
She made quick work of shutting the door behind her, darting off her property, and, most importantly, getting away from her mother's prying eyes.
Once they were safely on the other side of the tall, privacy hedges, she whipped around to face Tucker and said, "I don't know what the hell Danny told you, but I'm kind of freaking out right now."
"So is he," Tucker said. "He said he'd meet us at school, by the way. He's poking around in his basement for any leads and then is gonna get a ride from Jazz. But I'll be honest, I thought y'all were pulling my leg ‘til I saw you going through the floor."
"Yeah, this is legit." Sam stuck her palm out and let the cold crystals surface on her skin, gathering them until they formed a sheet of ice on her palm. She saw Tucker's eyes widen and heard a sharp inhale with her newly acquired acute hearing, but otherwise, he didn't say anything until she tipped her palm over and let the ice fracture on the ground.
"What the hell?" Tucker breathed.
"Right?" Sam groaned. "I don't know what I'm going to do! I only barely have a lid on these powers right now."
"You'll be fine. Danny was, wasn't he?"
"Yeah, but Danny's core was a lot weaker back then. I've got it at full power right now, and I have zero idea where the brakes are in this thing."
Tucker didn't seem fazed, his stride overly bouncy and dare Sam say joyful for the situation at hand. "Yeah, but you're way more athletic and into the whole occult thing than Danny is anyway. You're a goth! I'm sure you'll figure it out. And if it makes you feel better, Danny's transformed in broad daylight loads of times and nobody's noticed."
"Yeah, he mentioned that over the phone too."
"Right? You'll be fine."
"Thanks, Tuck," Sam said, then faltered, her body flickering out of visibility for a split second before she rounded on Tucker, mouth gaping. "Wait, were you, Tucker Foley, trying to make me feel better? Me, the ultra recyclo vegetarian? Doesn't that go against your meat code of ethics or something?"
"Yeah, I know, right? What has the world come to where I'm out here consoling you? Tragic times and all."
Sam slugged his arm playfully.
"Don't tell Danny or he'll never let me live it down," Tucker added.
Sam snorted, adjusting her purple spider backpack straps and bounding forward. They walked in a comfortable silence for half a minute before Tucker broke her tranquility to talk about some game he was playing (badly, Sam mentally thought). He narrated his great epic about how much he'd grinded until he found some hack—a hack that Sam knew he didn't actually find but probably read about on Reddit—and at that point Sam was forced to interject because if Tucker had just played the game's tutorial properly or not skipped over all the cutscenes, he would have known a far easier way to level up than grinding those low-level monsters he'd been fighting and—ugh, Tucker could be so infuriating sometimes.
"See, I know you're mad at me right now because your eyes are literally glowing."
"I'm not mad at you!" Sam argued, pinching the bridge of her nose like she'd seen Danny do dozens of times to calm his eyes down. It didn't feel like it was doing much for her, though. "I just can't believe you're seriously so inept that you're resorting to digging for hacks on Reddit instead of just playing the game properly! See, this is why you suck at gaming. I don't play video games nearly as much as you but I always kick your ass because I try."
"And I don't?" Tucker said, affronted.
"No! You just look for cheats!"
"Because I'm working smarter, not harder!"
"And that's why you never get any better!"
They rounded the corner, and the school campus began peeking into view.
"Oh shit, hang on. I need to make my eyes stop glowing." Sam turned around to face the window of a closed store. Her reflection was faint, but even then she could see her eyes glowing fiercely. "Shit. How do I turn this off?"
"Don't be such a hothead."
Sam stamped her foot. "I'm not a hothead!"
"Oh damn, what am I walking into?" said a voice that had never filled Sam with so much relief as it did now.
A hand touched her shoulder, and Sam peered through her bangs to see the bright blue eyes of Danny Fenton. She took a deep breath from her gut just like she'd always practiced in her weekly yoga classes and felt the power recede into her body.
"Hey, Danny," she said sheepishly.
"You looked like you were about to punch Tucker through the window."
"I did want to punch Tucker through the window."
"What did that poor window ever do to you?" Tucker quipped.
Sam rolled her eyes. "Yeah, it's the window I was arguing with. You were just the projectile, for sure."
"Seems like you got pretty good control over these powers, though," Danny said, eyeing her up and down.
Sam imagined he was expecting to find her in his typical state: covered in some amount of blood, ectoplasm, and dirt. Fortunately, she'd managed to make it to school unscathed.
"Oh no, you totally missed the part where she literally ate shit going through her door," Tucker cackled, wiping an invisible tear from his eye. "It was amazing. You should have been there. I've never seen our girl look so uncoordinated in her life."
Sam didn't even try to suppress the glow from her eyes as she rounded back on their very annoying friend and glared. "Another word and I will throw you through this window!"
"Yeah, yeah, sure you will!"
Danny stuck his hand out and flicked Tucker's cheek. "So, we going to class or what? Bell's about to ring and if I get one more tardy this week, Lancer said I'll owe him a Saturday detention."
Sam steeled herself, looking across the street at her biggest adversary this year: the school. "Fine, let's go."
****
Somehow, Sam prevailed through homeroom without falling through her chair. Although, her new ghost core had certainly threatened to send her ass not just through her chair, but into the goddamn floor multiple times.
She had also managed to weather their English written check-in on the assigned book they were reading. Or, the book that some of them had been reading. Sam, of course, was one of the people who had legitimately read it. Persepolis was an easy read, after all, with it being a graphic novel and all. And besides, Sam could never call herself a feminist if she neglected to read the stories of women from other parts of the world.
On the other hand, Sam was pretty sure that both Danny and Tucker had thoroughly failed the open response question, even with her giving a verbal synopsis of the book before class had started.
"Wait, who's Ebi?" Tucker had asked.
Sam wanted to throttle him. "He's Marji's father!"
"Who's Marji?" Danny asked.
"The main character, Danny. "
Yeah, they'd definitely failed the check-in.
But since the class had finished early, they had the rest of the period to chat. Or, in Sam's case, sit there trying to stay visible and in her chair.
"You have too much energy," Danny explained, looking thoroughly too unconcerned for their current predicament as he doodled spirals in the margins of his notebook. "You just need to burn it off."
"How the hell am I supposed to do that?" Sam asked. "We're in fucking school!"
"You can do it after school."
"Wow, gee, you're so helpful. I'm so glad you told me this at the beginning of the school day instead of, you know, texting me or something before school!"
"I forgot," Danny said, waving his hand as if to shoo her away.
"You're useless is what you are."
And he truly was. For as long as Danny had ghost powers, Sam realized that he didn't actually understand them to a shocking degree. Well, he was a boy after all, and boys could be a bit dense. Then again, there was a bit dense and then there was Danny, who seemed like such an airhead at times, that Sam was concerned that all those ghost fights had knocked all his brains from his skull.
"You'll figure it out," is what Danny said.
Sam did not win the fight to resist throwing her pencil at him.
Mr. Lancer, who seemed to have a knack for turning his head to see the exact moment when a student was breaking a rule, tilted his head in an expression that plainly read: are you fucking serious?
"Sorry!" Sam called. "Danny was being annoying!"
"When isn't Fentwerp being annoying?" Dash snickered.
Danny glared at Dash. "I'll stop being annoying if you take this pencil and shove it up your—"
"Boys!" Lancer's voice boomed through the classroom. "It's too early for this. Stop."
Dash grumbled something under his breath but otherwise turned back to his conversation with Kwan.
"And Ms. Manson," Lancer added, his expression rotating to its previous exasperation, "please don't throw pencils in my classroom."
"Fine, sorry," Sam said without conviction.
Apparently, though, that was enough for Mr. Lancer, who seemed content to return his attention down to the stack of papers and the red pen in his fingers.
"You are annoying me, you know," Sam told Danny. "Seriously, you haven't given me one bit of useful advice this entire day."
"Yeah, well, I don't know. I'm not a god, you know." Then he paused his doodling, chuckling to himself. "I'm not Clockwork."
"Clockwork, oh gracious god of time!" Tucker raised his hands up to the ceiling. "If you can hear us, please do grace us with your presence so Miss Sammykins can not eat shit on the floor! Even if from a purely objective standpoint that would be incredibly funny!"
"No it would not be!" Sam hissed.
Danny glanced up. "He's not gonna come for this, you know. He wouldn't even show up when Vlad had kidnapped me in his basement that one time."
Sam and Tucker rounded on him, simultaneously crying, "He did what?"
Once again, Danny looked far too unconcerned. "Oh yeah, he was trying to get my mid-morph DNA. Did I not tell you about that? The loser was using it for his stupid clone project. Seriously, he's such a creep."
"Oh, so that's how Danielle got stabilized? Vlad stole your mid-morph DNA after he kidnapped you?" Tucker asked.
"Yup."
Sam realized her mouth was gaping like a fish, and she forced her jaw back together. "Your life is so fucked up, you know that?"
Danny just continued doodling in his notebook. "Yeah, well, now you have my core so...good luck!"
If luck was what she needed, then she was about to cast every Wiccan spell she knew to get it.
Fortunately, she managed to stay mostly intact through the rest of the period. Though, her legs did flicker in and out of visibility a few times. They were under her desk, so no one could see. But for good measure, she stole Tucker's jacket to cover her lap like a blanket, much to his protest.
A blunt "you'll live" was just about all the sympathy that he'd gotten from Sam.
As the day droned on, Sam began to get used to the core in her chest. It was a constant cold presence that seemed to send chill gusts anytime it was looking to cause mayhem in the form of intangibility or invisibility. And once she recognized the feeling of that cool energy balling up, she began learning how to brace herself for when it striked.
Of course, she wasn't successful in stopping all the cool gusts of energy. She was a novice, after all. But she was very proud of herself that she'd managed to begin teaching herself the first steps.
And also, very annoyed because that meant Danny's nails-on-chalkboard advice of "you'll figure it out" actually had some merit to it.
Not that she'd ever admit that to him. He and his advice could eat rocks for all she cared.
Point was, she had actually begun to get a grasp on whatever the hell was going on with her body. In the half hour before the lunch bell, she'd even started to hone her new abilities enough to make tiny ecto-ice crystals in the palm of her hand under her desk. She was at least partially certain that she could make these crystals on a bigger scale given the opportunity, but for some reason, she didn't think her teachers or the school administration would appreciate a seemingly-human student erecting giant crystals of unmeltable ice in the middle of their classrooms.
Though, their reactions would be very funny.
When the lunch bell rang, Sam was—for the first time—the first person out of the room, darting through the halls as if she'd personally been victimized by that biology class. Which, given the amount of worksheets that teacher loved to hand out, wasn't actually too far off from the truth.
Regardless, Sam was already halfway down the hall before she remembered to sling her spider backpack over both shoulders. She was the first to claim refuge in the trio's normally near-empty table, and given her boys seemed to be really taking their time today, to refrain from squirming in her seat like a toddler, she hid one hand in her lap and willed an ice crystal to her fist. This time, she was testing to see if she could make a simple shape with it. A flat disc, she decided.
The crystal that formed wasn't exactly the smooth, flat disc she'd been envisioning. It was a bit rough, and it wasn't that thin either. But it wasn't like the round, perl-like ecto-ice that she'd willed to existence on a previous attempt. This one was different, and different meant that she was improving.
"You surviving?" a voice called over her shoulder.
She startled, getting so consumed by the ecto-ice, that she forgot that she'd been waiting for her friends to arrive.
"Barely, but I'm doing it," she responded to Tucker, who'd practically fallen into his normal lunch seat.
"Well, that makes one of us. I thought Mr. Falluca was actually trying to murder us with the amount of homework he assigned."
"Tuck, he gave time in class to do it."
"And I clearly didn't work on it during class. That's what I have you for!" He leaned forward and pressed his fingers into a prayer. "I have you here to lend me your answers!"
Sam frowned. "And what are you offering in return?"
"A free hug?"
"Yeah, I don't think so"
"I know, I was just messing with you." Tucker grinned. "How about the bio homework?"
Sam tapped her chin, pretending to think about it. "Well, well, well, Mr. Foley. You've got yourself a deal." She stuck her hand out, and Tucker was quick to grasp her palm and shake her one hand with his two in an exaggerated motion.
"Thanks, Sam! You're the best."
"Well," Sam said, taking her hand back. "Don't thank me yet. You still have to do the bio homework. Knowing that class, that could be a whole thing."
"It's fine. Bio homework is usually fast for me."
"We're talking about Bio?" Danny asked, placing his lunch tray down and taking his seat across the table.
Sam looked over, brightening. "Oh hey, Danny! Yeah, we are. Unfortunately."
Danny suddenly looked like he wanted to throw up. "Ugh, hate that class."
"Don't we all?" Tucker lamented
"I don't even know what we're learning right now," Danny said
"I don't think anyone knows," Tucker said.
"And you're doing my homework for me?" Sam asked as Tucker shoveled a bite of food into his mouth.
He chewed for a moment as if to be polite, and then decided to abandon that idea and talk with a full mouth instead. "Don't worry, I'll figure it out. I always do!"
"Gross," Sam scoffed. "I don't need to see your gory, spit-covered meat disaster."
"The school's gory, spit-covered meat disaster, actually." Tucker gestured to his lunch tray.
"That doesn't make it any better."
"Guys," Danny interrupted, his face contorting into that exasperated expression it always did when she and Tucker started fighting about food. "Seriously? If you two get into this, Sam's eyes are gonna turn green again."
Sam squeezed the edges of the ecto-ice in her palms, anticipation clawing at her skin. "Actually, I've made some progress with it."
Danny perked up. "With figuring out how to switch things back to normal?"
"No. Better! I've starting figuring out how these powers work." Sam presented her palm to the two boys, the misshapen ice-disc proudly on display.
It took Sam a moment too late to realize that she probably looked like a toddler presenting their scribbled drawing to their parents that could be either a human or a cat depending on which angle the parent was looking at the scribbles from.
And she could see in their faces that this was exactly how Tucker and Danny were taking it. From Danny, a police nod at her lump of ice, and from Tucker, a squint through his glasses and a look that said, "huh?"
"The ice," Sam explained. "I've started to figure out how to shape and size it."
"Oh, that makes a lot more sense," Danny said, clearly relieved.
"Yeah, I thought all that ectoenergy managed to loosen a few screws, if you know what I'm saying." Tucker circled his pointer finger around the size of his head in the universal crazy gesture. "But, uh, congrats?"
"That awesome, Sam! Jeez, you're picking this up fast. It took me weeks before I figured out how to not turn the entire room into a blizzard whenever I turned the powers on."
"If it makes you feel better, I'm just copying you." Sam shrugged, placing the ice on the table. She stabbed her lettuce with her fork and held it in the air for a moment, amusement seeping into her at Danny who scooped the ice up like a dog being given a new squeaky toy for its birthday.
He turned it around in his fingers, inspecting every scratch in the ice. "Hey, this is actually pretty good. It takes a while to get the hang of it. You really have to be specific on how you picture the item. Well, at first anyway. Over time, it gets a lot easier. But when I was first starting out, I had to clear my brain out before I made anything."
"Clearing your brain out? That shouldn't be too hard for you. There's nothing there to begin with."
Danny shot Tucker a glare. "Very funny."
"Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all night."
Sam ignored him. "I just need to practice." She shivered, and intangibility threatened to send her crashing to the ground. It took all her might to stave it off. "And, I need to burn this energy off. Hey, can you show me how right after school? Since we have no idea how long we'll be switched like this and all."
"Yeah, sure," Danny said.
Sam straightened, and began eating her salad with newfound vigor. She was going to burn the energy off regardless, but having someone there to coach her and help her control it would be immensely helpful.
All she had to do was make it through the rest of her school day.
****
part 2 >
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🡻VENT
Hello, this is going to be a rather sad kind of message, the first time I have to talk about a client with such a bitter perspective for me.
Clients are always a reason to celebrate, with many I have developed super long conversations, others have seen me grow on social networks and I have seen them get married, have children or change their lives little by little just like me.
In my community I am always happy to have good experiences with my clients, because even the few times I have not agreed with something, everything has been able to be discussed and come to a good end.
I have been in contact with all kinds of personalities and moods, both my own and those of others, for a long time and I know how to work with that.
Today was not like that. Today I had to deal with something completely different
I had to talk to a person with whom I had accepted a commission 2 years ago, and the last contact or response I had was in March 2023 -1 year and 7 months-
As we are all strangers on the internet and life can sometimes be very fucked up, I clearly did not make any claim and celebrated they return.
Fortunately I saved they files, and I say this because many artists after a certain period of time close them, send them to avoid legal problems or exactly what just happened to me.
I never added such clauses because i have had 2 cases like that and nothing bad has happened (although never for so long)
But with today I think it was quite naive on my part, because this person began to ask me for changes on a work that had been left with the base coloring, and the lineart already finished.
I agreed to change simple things but I also warned that I was not going to accept more changes that had to do with the pose. Not only because of all the time it took (you can change your tastes, and if you liked something before, and now you don't) but it is unfair to me, to my time and my current pending work.
So I limited the changes to the color section, no different from when other clients ask me for changes once the lineart is finished and accepted.
The person first accepted, then deleted the message and asked me for a refund for the commission, since they was not satisfied with my service .
The truth is that I was quite broken down. Because I had never had or experienced those emotions linked to a client.For me it is something incompatible.
But clearly I am not going to do it, my TOS are clear with the no refunds and the situation is clearly cynical, I have plenty of reasons and explanations as to why, but i dont have the objective of humiliating anyone or generate hatred.
That's why I'm not giving names, I'm not giving pictures or anything. I just want to vent because I feel completely discouraged, because I didn't expect a right hook like that. And it's a bittersweet feeling, and finally I hit the wall after 7 years of work.
It's very easy to show up after almost 2 years and ask for a refund when the work is almost finished, and claim that you're not happy with the results.
But being nice doesn't mean I'm going to allow something like that.
So I'm going to rewrite my TOS to make the same clause as my colleagues, and I'm going to keep this low key and private.
My colleagues will know about name and screenshots, because it's important to be careful with these things. But for the rest, it's not fun for me to start any carnage.
I understand the misunderstanding, I can imagine what this person felt when I set a limit (most people don't like it, it's a bitter pill to swallow) but it's also necessary and it's true that during these 7 years, many people have responded well to it and have even given me excellent treatment or negotiated with me.
I have witnessed at least 200 responses much better than the one I had to read today, so I am able to know, perfectly, that nothing that happened was fair. And that it could have gone better if they hadn't demanded things that way, and in a situation where their actions were not supported.
I know this is different, but my head is now like a pressure cooker, and I needed to let it out, to let it go.
Thank you all, for having accustomed me to such nice treatment, that although today I felt naive, I also felt very lucky to have you to have a bar with which to measure correctly.
A huge hug, from your favorite Pillow.
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