#and then by the time she came out she was already so high

[lizziesangel]

heyyy, could you do a one shot of rafe x high maintenance!kook!reader, about her expensive skinncare routine and rafe is just so in love of how well she takes cares of herself but at the same time like "90 dollars of this shit????" and reader is just "yeah😁 it has collagen, you should try it"

absolutely love this!!

the night had been perfect—rafe made sure of it. dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town, with white tablecloths and a wine list so long it came in a leather-bound book. he didn’t even blink at the check, sliding his card over with the confidence of someone who did this all the time. the drive home was just as good, you sitting in the passenger seat, admiring your new nails under the streetlights, the soft hum of the radio in the background.

“seriously, rafe, aren’t they gorgeous?” you asked, holding your hand up to catch the faint glow of the dashboard lights. “look at the shine. and the shape? absolutely perfect. they even feel sturdier this time, like they’re not going to chip in two weeks.”

he glanced over briefly, his lips tugging into a lazy smile. “yeah, they look good. but you’ve said that, like, twenty times already.”

“and i’ll say it twenty times more, you’re the one who paid for them,” you pointed out, inspecting them again. “you should be happy i’m obsessed with them.”

“oh, i’m happy,” he said, turning into the driveway. “just wondering if i’m gonna hear about them all week.”

“probably,” you teased, stepping out of the car.

the conversation didn’t stop there. even as you followed him upstairs, you were still gushing.

“seriously, though, rafe. i think this might be my favorite set ever. they’re just so clean and classy.”

“yeah, they’re nice,” he said, pulling his shirt off as he walked into the bedroom. “good thing you didn’t go with that neon pink idea you showed me.”

“it was bubblegum pink, and it was cute!” you argued, crossing your arms.

“sure, babe,” he said with a smirk, falling onto the bed. “bubblegum pink’s cute.”

rolling your eyes, you walked over to the mirror, sighing at your reflection. “ugh, i have to take my makeup off first.”

rafe propped himself up on one elbow, watching you. “can’t you just… skip it?”

you turned to him, horrified. “skip it? baby, do you know what that would do to my skin?”

“no, but i’m sure you’re gonna tell me,” he teased, flopping onto the bed and pulling the blanket up.

you ignored him, grabbing your skincare bag and heading to the bathroom. after what felt like forever, you finally emerged, your face clean of makeup, wearing your silk robe.

rafe was lying in bed, one arm behind his head, watching you with a mixture of impatience and amusement.

“you know what we should get?” you asked, your tone casual.

he raised an eyebrow. “what?”

“a vanity.”

rafe blinked at you. “a what?”

“a vanity,” you repeated, walking over to sit cross-legged on the bed.

“why would we need a vanity?”

“so i can do my makeup and skincare in the bedroom instead of going to the bathroom every time,” you explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

rafe gestured vaguely toward the open bathroom door. “the bathroom’s literally right there.”

you rolled your eyes, scooting closer to him. “yeah, but i’d rather be in here with you.”

he groaned, but there was no missing the fondness in his voice when he said, “you’re unbelievable.”

“and you love me for it,” you said with a grin.

he chuckled softly, pulling you closer for a quick kiss before turning back to his phone. shaking your head with a smile, you stood and padded back to the bathroom, ready to start your skincare routine.

as you began massaging a cleanser onto your face, you heard footsteps behind you. glancing in the mirror, you saw rafe leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, watching you.

“what are you doing?” you asked, surprised but pleased.

“figured i’d see what all the hype’s about,” he said, smirking.

you laughed, turning back to the sink. “all right, pay attention.”

he stayed quiet, watching as you worked.

“first step,” you began, holding up the bottle. “oil-based cleanser. this gets rid of all the makeup and sunscreen.”

“so that’s why your face looks all shiny now?”

“exactly,” you said, rinsing it off. “next step: water-based cleanser. it makes sure everything’s actually gone.”

“seems like overkill,” he muttered, but his eyes stayed on you as you lathered up the second cleanser.

“it’s not,” you insisted, rinsing and patting your face dry with a towel. “now, toner. it balances your skin’s pH and preps it for the rest of the products.”

“you’re making this up,” he said, shaking his head.

“i’m not,” you said with a laugh, grabbing a small bottle. “next is serum. this one’s hydrating—it has hyaluronic acid.”

“whatever that is,” he said, leaning in a little closer.

“it’s amazing,” you said, patting the serum into your skin. “then comes eye cream. dab it under your eyes to keep them hydrated.”

“you have young skin,” he pointed out. “why do you need all this anti-aging stuff?”

“prevention is key,” you said simply, dabbing the cream under your eyes. “next, lip mask. it keeps your lips soft overnight.”

“lip mask?”

“yes, rafe. just trust me.”

he chuckled, watching as you smoothed the mask over your lips. “what’s next?”

“retinol,” you said, holding up a small tube. “but i only use it once a month.”

“why bother, then?”

“because it’s good to start early!” you said, smoothing a tiny amount over your skin.

rafe stayed quiet for a moment, watching as you worked through your routine. his curiosity got the better of him again when you reached for a fancy-looking gold jar.

“how much was that one?” he asked casually.

you hesitated. “uh… ninety, i think?”

“ninety dollars?” his voice shot up an octave as he grabbed the jar to inspect it.

“yes, rafe,” you said, snatching it back. “it’s a luxury brand. it has collagen.”

he gestured at the counter, which was full of bottles and jars from estée lauder, clinique, and clarins. “so how much is all of this combined?”

you shrugged, applying the last of your products. “a couple hundred, maybe?”

“holy shit,” rafe muttered, running a hand through his hair.

you grinned, turning to face him. “what? you like how soft my skin is, don’t you?”

rafe gestured at the counter, which was covered in products from estée lauder, clinique, and clarins. “so… who pays for all this?”

“i do,” you said, capping the jar of moisturizer.

rafe stared at you, incredulous. “no, you’re lying.”

“i swear!”

“no,” he said firmly, crossing his arms. “i’ll pay for it.”

“rafe, you can’t pay for everything,” you argued, rolling your eyes.

he shook his head. “i can, and i will. no way you’re spending this much on—” he gestured vaguely at the counter—“this… whole collection.”

you raised an eyebrow at him. “i budget for it.”

rafe stared at you for a moment, then leaned against the counter with a smirk. “okay, new plan. i’m paying for it from now on.”

“rafe, you can’t just—”

“i can, and i will,” he interrupted, his tone firm but playful.

“you’re not paying for everything,” you argued, narrowing your eyes at him.

he leaned in, his smirk softening into something gentler. “you’re right. i’m not paying for everything. just the stuff that makes you happy. and this”—he waved his hand at your collection of bottles and jars—“obviously does.”

you felt your cheeks heat up, but you rolled your eyes to cover it. “fine, but i’m not letting you pay for all of it. maybe just the retinol.”

“deal,” he said, pulling you into his arms. “but i’m serious. next time, just send me the bill.”

you laughed, resting your head against his chest. “you’re ridiculous.”

“yeah,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “but you love me for it.”

“unfortunately,” you teased, earning a chuckle as he pulled you back toward the bedroom.

MASTERLIST

CURRENT TAGLIST⋆⭒˚｡⋆

@maybankslover ⟢ @honeyluvsatj ⟢ @zazidot ⟢ @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 ⟢ @lunaleah ⟢ @maybanksangel ⟢ @wtfdudesblog. ⟢ @niktwazny303. ⟢ @outerbanksloverp4l ⟢ @slut4you ⟢ @maybanksgirl69

[leahwllmsn]

toxic till the end

alexia putellas x reader

word count: 3.3k

tw: toxic relationships

You and Alexia are bad news for each other, but you don’t want anyone else.

It’s another day after yet another fight. You already know what’s going to happen next—it’s a routine so ingrained in your life that there’s no room for uncertainty. Alexia will show up at your door, begging for forgiveness, and you will welcome her with open arms. 

This time though, you tell yourself it’s going to be different. You’re going to put a stop to this whole thing.

You’re letting go of Alexia for good.

It’s been years of back and forth and you’re tired. 

You’re on your couch, clutching your phone, battling with yourself about being the first one to text. To break the routine you and Alexia have perfected means breaking this cycle once and for all.

I meant what I said last night. it’s over. we’re done.

Alexia’s response comes not a minute later. How fast she responds gives you more satisfaction than you admit. Her response however… It left an uncomfortable feeling in your chest.

A: if that is what you want

No, that’s not what you want at all. But it’s what you need. For your sanity.

I want you out of my life. goodbye, ale

—

You met Alexia through a mutual friend. You liked to go out to clubs and bars, something to get your mind off the stress at work. It was a wonder that you hadn’t met Alexia sooner, but you later realized it must be her job as a football superstar that prevented her from partying every week like you.

When Alexia came up to you, her chin held high, a smirk permanently etched on her face, you knew she was nothing but trouble. It was the way she presented herself, so full of herself—as if she could get anything she wanted, that got you hooked. You loved a confident woman, and Alexia was the most confident woman on earth.

“Hola.” Alexia was the first to greet you, observing you with a curious look. You took her outstretched hand, and you couldn’t help but appreciate how… strong her grip was. Yeah. 

“Hi.”

“I’m Alexia,” she gave you a smile, one that girls must fawn over. Before you could respond, she continued, “And you must be… the prettiest girl in this room.”

Your immediate response was to roll your eyes, but your heart was a mess. You couldn’t believe that something so corny had your cheeks blush a deep shade of red.

“Got anything better than that?” you replied calmly, taking a sip of your drink to hide the way your lips wanted to form a smile.

Alexia hummed in thought, leaning closer to you until her mouth was inches away from your ear. You could smell her perfume now—it was something from Le Labo, the woody one that people liked so much.

“If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put ‘u’ and ‘i’ together.”

It was so bad that it genuinely worked on you. You let out a laugh so loud, ten pairs of eyes turned in your direction. But you didn’t care because Alexia was looking at you with that glimmer in her eyes.

You couldn’t have known what was to come.

—

Despite your wariness about Alexia, you gave her a chance. You gave her multiple chances.

A few months in and you were inseparable. 

The most shocking thing about Alexia was that she was the most loyal person ever. You thought that she was, well, a playgirl. It was the stereotype that came with being a footballer and how charming she was—she could get anyone she wanted.

But all she wanted was you.

It was a huge boost to your ego, you must admit.

Maybe that was why you decided to test the waters. To see whether Alexia really loved you or she was just playing you.

(Looking back, you realized you were the one who started this whole game.)

You didn’t watch football, you had zero interest in it. Alexia loved that she got to be the one to introduce football to you.

So when you begged Alexia to let you meet her teammates, claiming you found a new interest on the team, she was surprised. 

The first thing you did in that locker room was introduce yourself to Patri. Sexy, funny, tattooed Patri, who flirted back the moment you bat your eyelashes at her. To you, it was exhilarating the way Alexia grabbed your wrist and pushed you to the nearest storage closet.

Maybe that was why you loved to push her buttons so much. 

But that wasn’t to say that Alexia didn’t do the same. She was so much more intense, you learned. Maybe even borderline toxic, but you didn’t think too much about it.

You hadn’t been partying every week like you usually would, spending each night with Alexia instead, living in that lovesick bubble. But one night you were bored, and you wanted to go. Alexia had a game tomorrow so you knew she would be staying at home.

“Where are you going, amor?”

You saw Alexia’s reflection in the mirror as you were putting on the final touches of your make-up. You were wearing a dress so tight that it left no room for imagination. “I’m going to Manuelas, baby.”

“What? No, you are not.” Alexia stated. 

You turned around and gave her a questioning look. “I am? Can’t you see that I’m ready?”

“Well, I do not want you to go,” Alexia crossed her arms over her chest, a frown on her face. “Especially with that dress.”

You rolled your eyes at her, scoffing. “I think I can do whatever I want, Ale. I’m going out.”

“So you are just going to leave me here alone? I need you tonight, amor.”

The way her tone changed almost gave you whiplash. She was no longer commanding; she was pleading, her voice trembled as if you leaving to a club would be the worst thing to ever happen to her.

“Please, cariño?” 

You knew the moment she gave you her best puppy-dog eyes, your resolve was crumbling. You’d agree to whatever she wanted, just like always.

“You can come with me,” you suggested, although you knew she couldn’t.

“You know I have a game tomorrow.” Alexia stepped closer to you, wrapping her arms around your waist and pressing gentle kisses along your exposed neck. “Let’s have a night in. I’m going to give you a better night than your friends could anyway, you know that.”

So you stayed.

You didn’t care when it happened again the week after, letting Alexia undress you was much better than any nightclubs anyway.

When your friends complained that they hadn’t seen you in so long, you made an effort to meet up with them for lunch, but that was cut short when Alexia called and demanded you to come home because she was done with training.

Alexia was possessive, you knew that. You didn’t need your friends to hold an ‘intervention’ for you because they thought Alexia was getting too much.

You loved her possessive attitude. So much so that you intentionally flirted with waitresses and strangers just to see her jealous streak.

You didn’t think anything could break your relationship. You loved each other.

One day, Alexia went too far and you got proven wrong.

You were tired from work, and you wanted nothing more than to get under the covers and sleep. Alexia had other plans. She was wearing a suit, her hair slicked back in a neat ponytail. She looked good. 

“Where are you going, Ale?”

“Oh, hey, mi amor,” Alexia pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, pulling back when you wanted more. Alexia always made you feel better. “I’m going to be late. I have dinner with old friends.”

You raised an eyebrow at that. Alexia never mentioned any dinner with old friends. “Who?”

“Just… some friends I haven’t met in a long time.” You let her go without any more questions because you were seconds away from falling asleep.

When you woke up and found Alexia asleep on the couch instead, you thought nothing of it, going through with your morning routine. When Alexia stretched lazily, flashing you a smile, you returned it without a second thought. But then you caught the lipstick stain on her white collar, a lipstick shade that you would never wear… That was when you started screaming at her.

“I can’t believe you!” “What did I do?”

“What did you do?” You pointed towards the red stain on her collar. “Do you think I’m blind? Stupid? Both?!”

“Oh no no, amor,” Alexia immediately stood up, hands raised defensively as she faced you. “This is not what it looks like. You are misunderstanding!”

“You’re crazy, Alexia. Who’s fucking lipstick is that?!”

“No one’s! You are being paranoid.”

“Stop lying to me!”

“Amor, I would never lie to you, you know that,” Alexia huffed. She had the nerve to shake her in disappointment. “In fact, I am insulted that you think I would do such a thing!”

“Oh yeah? How’s this!” You unclasped the necklace Alexia got you as a gift and threw it at her face. “Fuck you!”

“Amor! That hurts!”

“Fucking cheater!”

“I didn’t kiss her! She kissed me!”

The amount of anger coursing through your veins was a new feeling. You let out a shout before stomping your way out of the apartment. You looked back at your girlfriend, still with that stupid, glaring red stain on her shirt. “I never want to see your face again, Alexia!”

You slammed the front door and left.

That was the start of the cycle.

—

Alexia showed up at your apartment the next day, flowers in hand, eyes swollen from when she cried too much—a rare sight for her. You felt your heart soften at the sight.

“Hola,” Alexia rasped out. “Can I come in?”

Against your better judgement you let her in. You allowed her to explain her side of things, how she claimed that yes, her ex kissed her, but Alexia didn’t return the gesture. You didn’t entirely believe her but you pulled her into your arms anyway.

Alexia repeated how sorry she was over and over again, she told you that she loved you, and she would never intentionally hurt you. 

“I know, Ale,” you kissed the top of her head, your voice softer now compared to the shouts yesterday. Alexia was laying on top of you, her head nestled in the crook of your neck—usually you would be the one in Alexia’s arms, this change felt nice too.

“Do you still love me?”

You didn’t hesitate when you replied. “More than anything.”

Alexia promised that there wouldn’t be anymore fights after that. You didn’t really believe her, and you didn’t think she believed herself either, but you agreed nonetheless.

It was true, you and Alexia went back to the honeymoon phase and didn’t fight at all.

The calm lasted for a few weeks. Barcelona won something, you couldn’t remember, but it was huge. So it called for a celebration.

Alexia, being the captain, was busy being the center of attention. She loved it when people worshipped her, you knew that, so you let her be. You were alone at the bar when someone approached you, offering to buy you a drink. It was Jana—you remembered her from before you met Alexia, through mutual friends. She was definitely your type, but she was five years younger than you and that put you off.

“You do know I’m dating your captain,” you spoke directly in her ear, the music making it harder to hear.

“I’m just being friendly,” Jana shrugged, although the glint in her eyes revealed otherwise.

You took the drink she offered and stayed close to her—too close, because the next thing you knew Alexia was in front of you, a dangerous smile on her lips.

“We are going home.”

“It’s early!” you laughed, passing your drink to your girlfriend. “Have some fun, Ale. Don’t be so uptight.”

Jana giggled and Alexia’s frown deepened. You turned towards the younger brunette and grabbed her arms. “Jana and I are going to dance!”

You left Alexia speechless as you made your way to the dance floor. You could feel her eyes on you the whole time, but all you did was something innocent. There was nothing conspicuous about dancing with a friend. You didn’t kiss her like Alexia kissed someone else.

You didn’t even last five minutes, before Alexia dragged you away and forced you into her car.

You pouted at her the whole ride home. “You are being so ridiculous, Alexia. I was just dancing with a friend.”

“No, you were slutting it up with a friend. There is a difference.”

You were so offended by her words that you demanded she pull over and let you out.

“I am not doing that.”

“Pull over.”

“No.”

“Alexia, pull over or I’ll open this car door and step right into oncoming traffic.”

“Estás loca!” Alexia granted your wish and you were met with the cold, night air as you stepped out of her car. “How are you going to get home now?”

You answered her by slamming her precious car door and flipping a middle finger in her direction. Thankfully it wasn’t that far from your place, you could walk for fifteen minutes. It was fine.

You didn’t get much sleep that night, whether it was because of the anger you were feeling or the anticipation of seeing Alexia the next day. But by morning, all you felt was disappointment, because Alexia didn’t show up. You waited and waited, until it was night time and you decided to send her a text.

do you even care about me?

Alexia showed up five minutes later even though her apartment was almost half an hour away. This time, instead of flowers, she brought your favourite chocolates. Ten boxes of them.

“I am sorry, guapa.” You were sitting on Alexia’s lap, your hands playing with the baby hair on the back of her neck. “I was just jealous because I love you so much.”

“I’m sorry too,” you murmured. “I was the one to provoke you.”

Alexia nodded, pecking your lips. “Sí. You provoked me.”

“You don’t have to be jealous, you know,” you assured her. “I’m all yours, Alexia.”

She grinned at you, pulling you even closer until your bodies were flushed against one another. “That’s good to hear, amor. No one can love you like I do.”

—

You stayed with Alexia despite it all. Despite the monthly–if not, weekly–fights, despite the red flags waving at you every time you recalled something Alexia did to your friends.

You didn’t care about any of it as long as you have Alexia.

Your friends stopped trying to meddle. Once, they decided to give Alexia a piece of their minds and that made Alexia ignore you for a few days. So in turn, you gave your friends a piece of your mind and told them to back the fuck off. You were a big girl; you knew what you were getting yourself into.

It went on for years. You and Alexia continued the routine: someone says something they didn’t mean—fight—make up—someone gets jealous—fight again—make up, and so on.

It was incredible how much strength you had in you to put up with it. But you loved Alexia, and she loved you back, so it was worth it.

It wasn’t until a fight got so big that it left you both screaming at each other in an empty park in Barcelona at midnight, and suddenly, you felt so suffocated. For the first time ever, you wondered what would happen if both of you just… stopped this whole thing. You wondered then, if you could survive living without Alexia.

“I do not know what you want me to do, Y/N!”

“Well, for one, I would like you to stop flirting with every girl you see. I’m right here!”

“I was not flirting! You just keep on imagining things!”

“Fuck you, Ale!”

“Sí, you have done that many times,” Alexia shrugged casually, her body language telling you she was unbothered by this whole thing. “We can do it again tonight if you want!”

“Fuck! You!”

You turned to leave, but Alexia grabbed your wrist. “Where are you going?”

You yanked your arm free from her grasp. “I’m leaving! It’s over!”

Alexia let out a mocking laugh. “Over?! I do not think so. Come on, amor, do you really think you can live without me?” 

Alexia was so sure that you couldn’t. You felt like you wanted to prove to her otherwise.

So you held your chin out and held her gaze. “Yes. I can. I’m leaving you.”

Neither of you said anything for a minute. Alexia silently challenged you to take back your words, but you weren’t going to. You decided that you were strong enough to end things.

“You are lying,” Alexia scoffed. “You cannot leave me.”

You glared at her. You hated that she was undermining you. “Watch me.”

As you turned around once again to leave, Alexia suddenly stepped forward and snaked her arms around your waist, her front pressed against your back. You let her hold you—it was going to be the last time anyway.

“Mi amor,” Alexia’s voice trembled. “You cannot leave me. I do not know how to do this without you. Please don’t go. Te amo. Te amo mucho.”

You held back your tears, not expecting Alexia to sound this vulnerable. You placed your hand on top of hers, hesitating for a brief moment before slowly pulling away.

You were finally free.

—

A week passed by without anything from Alexia. Not a phone call, not a text, no flowers on your doorstep, no unannounced visits to your apartment. You realize that this is the longest you’ve gone without hearing Alexia beg for your forgiveness. Alexia is actually respecting your wishes.

She’s no longer bothering you.

You should feel happy, but all you feel is the opposite. You genuinely feel sick at the thought of having Alexia out of your life.

You want her next to you. You want her near you, right now. You don’t care that all you do is fight, that’s what couples do—Alexia once said.

Your friends think it’s a good thing that you cut things off with Alexia, but you don’t think their opinion matters anyway. They’ve always acted like they know your relationship with Alexia better than you.

To get them to back off though, you agreed on a blind date with someone. Just for one night. One night to see what a “perfect girl” looks like.

Her name is Jennifer. What a bland name.

She likes to play tennis and does horse riding. Football is better.

She has a British accent because she grew up in London. Alexia’s accent is much better, way sexier.

An hour in and you could tell that there is nothing wrong with her despite your best efforts at trying to find the worst in everything. But she’s not Alexia.

No one will ever come close.

Before Jennifer gets the chance to order dessert, you fake a stomach ache and leaves.

You walk aimlessly, but deep down you know you have one destination in mind.

It’s been years of back and forth. Yes, you’re tired, but you also crave it.

You crave her.

No matter how much Alexia breaks your heart, you know she’s the only one who can fix it—albeit, not perfectly, she can still patch it up nonetheless.

You don’t mind it. 

If being with Alexia means having a bruised heart full of bandages, you’ll take it.

“Hola, guapa. I missed you.”

[bee-whistler]

I submit as evidence my oldest daughter. Now, all my kids are good, but Doodle always had an extra affinity for kindness. She was so affable that my shy self would have her ask questions for me sometimes. She has Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and MCAS which limit what she can do currently as we look for better treatment options, and she’s got a smart mouth sometimes (lol), but she’s still wonderful.

When she was little, all I had to do at the playground was whisper, “That kid doesn’t have anyone to play with,” and her natural, untrained and unprompted response was to charge straight over and get the kid to play with her and any kids she’d already gathered. Seriously, I didn’t teach her that. I just didn’t fight it. And we’d bring enough sand toys for all of them. We sometimes had to tell parents we had brought enough to share, all they had to do was ask, because they’d stop their kids from “taking” her toys.

She was bullied in middle school but still managed in high school to gather a group of characters and misfits who are friends to this day (she’s 27). She’s ace but has been mistaken for lesbian because she hugs everyone she loves and jokingly calls the girls in her friend group her wives. And she’s the “mom” friend, scolding them if they don’t take their meds, coming to me if any needs a ride somewhere or to get out of a tense family situation for a while, or has been sleeping on a folding cot instead of a mattress.

She thanks every cashier and server because she knows they work hard. She once comforted a Dollar Tree cashier after someone bawled her out for no reason.

The first time we took our little cat to the vet, there was an older lady there with a big dog. The staff came out and painstakingly took the dog back… accent on the pain. It had been attacked by unleashed neighbor dogs and there was blood where it had been laying! Once the dog was getting treatment, we heard the woman softly crying. My daughter couldn’t take it anymore and proceeded to talk to her until she got word that the dog was going to make it.

So yeah, Doodle is my proof that people are naturally inclined to be good. Even with the negatives in her life, she has managed to still be the person she was from the time she was small. We just have to try not to crush that beauty in a kid and it will bloom wherever you let it.

Also I recommend this:

Her channel is about positive stories entirely. A lot are animal stories.

“People are inherently terrible” no!!! Have you ever seen a child wait for their friend while they tie their shoelaces? Have you ever known someone who would bring hurt squirrels and rabbits and mice to the nearest vet just so it doesn’t suffer? Have you seen someone grieve? Have you ever read something that hit your heart like a freight train? Have you looked at the stars and felt an unexplainable joy? Have you ever baked bread? Have you shared a meal with a friend? Have you not seen it? All the love? All the good? I know it’s hard to see sometimes, I know there’s pain everywhere. But look, there’s a child helping another up after a hard fall. Look, there’s someone giving their umbrella to a stranger. Look, there’s someone admiring the spring flowers. Look, there’s good, there’s good, there’s good. Look!!!!

[imliterallyf7ckin9crazy]

꧁⋆°𝓢𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓭 𝓖𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓒𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼°⋆꧂

Squid game Season 2 men saving you when you almost die in the game

Characters: player 001, 230, 124

Warnings: canon violence, near death experience, toxic relationships, drug use, mention of suicide, romantic tension, f! Reader

A/N: this is no diss to anyone bc I respect the grind, I truly do, but everything I see of squid game is nsfw. I have to HUNT for sfw shit. I just gave up and just read everything anyways. So I’m trying to balance the scales a bit for rn. Again no diss bc yall nsfw writers COOK.

________

ᏢᏝᎯᎽᎬᏒ 001

(Weird ppl attacking you in game)

- ok so for this one I’ll say that you are just a average player in the games he happened upon. You two met because you were on the ‘X’ team, and more specifically in gi- Huns group.

- he normally is pretty resistant to the ‘worthless sob stories of the poor’ as he puts it. But for some odd reason, yours got to him

- thrown out of home, forced to survive and fend for yourself out in the streets, hopping from job to job because you can’t pay rent on time 8/10 and you get evicted. Pulling loan after loan to keep yourself afloat, and even that is starting to fail you. You are at the very end of the road and if you can’t manage to leave here without some money you are 100% fucked. You genuinely think the only way out of the hole you’ve dug is either a miracle in here or checking out of life manually.

- in-ho LOVES sad wet cat type people, he can’t help it. And even though he’s heard basically the same stories from hundreds of people yet somehow you stuck with him

- life was unfair to you, you were cast out. If that didn’t happen, you wouldn’t have to be living “like garbage”. Almost everyone else put themselves in their financial hole, you started in one. Not fair, see? He’s doing so much mental gymnastics and logistical jumping to validate himself. You’re different, you don’t count.

- you really weren’t a extremely strong individual , you didn’t draw attention to yourself like many of the others, you didn’t argue much or ask many questions. You came with a goal. And he respected that.

- after game two though, the marathon, you and many others decided it was time to call it quits. So you voted ‘X’ with gi-hun and everyone else. And surprisingly in-ho, or young-il as he named himself, also picked ‘X’

- you both didn’t really talk much besides maybe a few sentences to each other about how your group was meant to survive. But after the second vote, having a X on your shirt also meant having a target on your back. And being the “minding my own business” type it doubled that factor.

- a group of three people, two guys and one girl approached you. Sorrounding you and pestering you on your vote. It turned to raised voices and getting in your face, to shoving from all three people as you just stood there and took it, unwilling to change votes. Though you might not fight like some others that doesn’t mean you aren’t brave.

- though as soon as young-il (for simplicity) saw those men put hands on you he was already trudging his way cross room, leaving gi-hun mid conversation to aid you.

- you were backed against the bed frame of the stacked sleeping quarters, these three lunatics yelling and shoving you, telling you that you have to vote ‘O’ “or else”. You assumed it implied you leaving this place in a box.

- that’s when young-il made it to you. “That’s quite enough” he says, eyes cold as ice and facial expression locked in stone. His posture was straight and his head was held high. Very intimidating, it’s almost like he had a military commander type vide (hahaha- odd right??)

- the girl was quick to scamper off, giving you a glare as she informs the boys she’ll be waiting by their group. The men however puff their chests out and square up a bit, and you get second hand embarrassment because young-il doesn’t even flinch or break the deadly eye contact. “Are you sure.” Is all he said. It didn’t sound like an actual question, more of a “are you sure you wanna get your ass beat in front of all these people” threat.

- they got the memo from his venomous words and slowly creeped off back to wherever they came from, looking like puppies with their tails tucked as they walked away.

- “thank you so much” you say, bowing slightly in gratitude for his kindness. He gives you a nice chuckle before lifting your shoulders back up.

- “oh no no, it’s nothing. Those boys should know better, I bet their mothers would chew their ears off if they saw their lack of manners” he jokes, earning a giggle from you.

- it makes him feel kinda fuzzy, but he compartmentalizes that feeling for when he’s alone and can process it. In the mean time he just places his hand on your lower back, guiding you back to the group where you will be safe (and in arms reach)

- this just opened a Pandora’s box of possessiveness and lies, and he doesn’t even know how it will end

ᏢᏝᎯᎽᎬᏒ 230

(Mingle)

- for this let’s just say that you met up with thanos for the second game, the marathon one, and yall clicked a bit, leading him to tell you that “you should stay with me and my crew, for safety”

- and so you do. What could be the harm? He’s clearly deranged and a loose cannon, wouldn’t it be better to just go along before he kills you?

- is what you originally thought. Turns out after that conversation and you joined, he really isn’t that bad to be around. When he’s high he always makes you laugh, constantly cracking jokes and making fun of people at their expense to make you smack his shoulder a bit, saying “be nice!”

- you noticed he thrives on attention, and you give it to him freely. It’s hard not to when he’s got bright purple hair, hand tattoos WITH rainbow painted nails, and he’s rapping and dancing like he was in the comfort of his own home. Plus nam gyu, the guy who lowkey bullied the shit out of you the first few days was now told to “chill out man”

- now, you were all standing on a spinning circular floor, a cute little cheery jingle being played from over the speakers. Thanos and nam gyu danced together to the music, high in ways you didn’t even know you could get. It was pretty silly though, acting like kids.

- then the music dropped, and a number was said. You had to run with that number of people into a room to live. Those left behind will die

- the first few rounds were easy, the numbers were quite high and you held onto thanos’ jacket to stay with the group. The sounds of people begging to be let in followed by being punctured with bullets rang in your mind and the number for people in groups got lower and lower, until the number was two.

- you, thanos, nam gyu and min-su all stared at each other for a moment, frozen on who to pick before thanos started throwing his head from side to side before turning and gripping your arm and nam gyus, running full speed and pulling you along, forcing you to leave min-su. Though you felt horrible once you saw his shocked little face, you just kept going. Choosing to save your life instead of feeling bad and dying there.

- thanos shoved nam gyu towards the door next to the one you were about to be tossed in, luckily he saw someone was waiting by themselves in the room, so he was safe with two. Nam gyu gave him a small nod to let him know he was safe and set to survive.

- thanos rushed you in, slamming the door behind him and peering out. This was the last round, you made it. The door beeped behind you and locked, ensuring your victory of the game.

- adrenaline was still pumping through your veins as you gazed up at him from your spot cowering against the wall as gun shots rang. You didn’t even hear the people screaming or the poor souls who were locked from the room right behind you and thanos, damming you to hell for getting to the room first as they die. “Holy shit” you say as you look at him as he smiled back. “We did it.”

- “yup” he says confidently “now let’s see how much money we earned” thanos says as he pulled open the door for the final time. Before he can step out you grab his sleeve “hey- uh thank you” you mumbled

- he could have just left you like min-su and went with nam gyu, but he chose to save you.

- “what? Nah it’s nothing. Don’t worry” he says, patting you on the head and steering you out of the room

ᏢᏝᎯᎽᎬᏒ 124

(Lights out fight)

- there was a obvious tension in the air, one that nearly suffocated you as you sat with nam gyu on a bed… thanos’ bed.

- the vote ended in a tie, meaning the vote was to be redone the following day. After that was announced, your friends thanos and nam gyu went to the bathroom to ‘help even out the votes’. Specifically to talk to that poor min-su they’ve been harassing non stop. Only just nam gyu came back out. Eyes blown wide and covered head to toe in thick splashes of blood. Your heart nearly died when you saw him stumbling dazed out of the bathroom. You knew SOMETHING had happened when no thanos returned safely to you.

- after that, he tried convincing you they didn’t start the fight, which you saw right through. Eventually he dropped that act and told you straight up what went down. How your friend was murdered. Nam gyu tried covering his pain up by insulting thanos and taking two of his pills from the cross he stole from him. Calling him an asshole and an idiot. Again, you saw right through.

- you brought your hand up to his face to wife some blood off with your sleeve. And he leaned right into it, sighing very very deeply as he crushed the drugs between his teeth. He held your hand to his face, which you thought was just him being cute until he started talking about how there needed to be a total blood bath that night. To ensure team ‘O’ wins and you both could keep going. You tried to pull away but his grip kept you like in your spot next to him.

- “no nam gyu, we can’t just kill these people. They are just like us they just need money-“

- “yes! That’s the fucking point. We need that danm money, can’t you see? We won’t fucking win with all those stupid fucking cockroaches leeching our money” he hisses, harsh words contrasting with his hands tracing patterns gently on yours. “We won’t win this vote with them alive, we won’t get more money with them all alive. This is the only way”

- he just kept going and going until you agreed, saying you’d at least let him go out and kill and you’d be his little look out. Only nothing can go smoothly for anyone ever here.

- while there’s lights flashing and people screaming, blood and gore being sprayed from the alive and leaking from the dead, you are trying to make out what is going on around you. You can (faintly) see nam gyu out in the room, grabbing people and ripping them to shreds with his fork, the very fork that killed thanos to be exact.

- while you were looking around for nam gyu, someone had come up behind you, grabbing you by the neck and trying to choke you out. You screamed out nam gyus name as loud as you could as the attackers grip tightened and tightened to the point where you thought your neck was bound to snap. Your vision going out slowly as all you can recognize becomes the sound of the chaos. Until suddenly you were freed, and your assaulter was ripped off you and pinned to the ground by nam gyu.

- he started repeatingly stabbing the person, blood flying onto you and him as he slit the person open. When he stopped you basically flung yourself at him, crying “thank you! Thank you!”. He just saved your life, though You could barely recognize him, he was lost completely in drug fueled blood lust and rage.

- maybe not completely you figured, as he rushed to you and scooped you up. He returned you to a bunk, telling you to hide there and wait for him. Promising you he’ll come back, that he will keep you safe. And he did, as the lights came on and the gun shots rung out, he was alive and on his way back to you

______

Bet yall can’t guess who my favorite is >:3

[zerocoded]

summary: headcannons of what caleb is like in bed.

authors note: help me i need him chronically. this is my opinion babes! i can't shut my brain off when it comes to him anymore. waiting for the 22nd to come is like waiting for my husband get back from war. everything here is what i read about his character so far, i hope you enjoy!

warnings: nsfw content • minors dni • SMUT • talks about size kink, teasing, fingering with his prosthetic bla bla, idk what else. A LOT. • this is basically word vomit, i'm sorry.

word count: 1.2k

caleb might be more conscious of his touch, especially with his bionic arm, carefully adjusting his strength to ensure comfort and gentleness.

i KNOW bro can’t keep his grunts down, like he’s been waiting his whole life for this moment.

he wants to consume you entirely, like occupy your every thought and feeling when getting intimate with you.

he’s a sucker for your reactions, so attentive to the point it makes you shy.

ALSO he’s so big—like everything about him is just massive. we know that already, right? sometimes HE forgets.

i just got a feeling that caleb's bed is enormous, like king-size for real, made for someone his size. like BIG BIG. because he's a big boy.

he kind of doesn’t fully grasp how strong he is or how big he is compared to you, like the first time he closed his hands around your throat, he gave you whiplash.

everything in his apartment is set high to accommodate him, and you struggle with it constantly.

his frame completely consumes you, overwhelming but in a way that feels safe.

one time, tara walked in on the two of you mid-moment, she was sleeping on your apartment for some reason and caleb came from the farspace fleet really missing you. she asked caleb where you were, and he just casually said "here," while tara bolted out, flustered beyond belief when she realized what was going on.

you were literally UNDER him and to anyone passing, it looked like he was alone lol.

you two have little banter all the time, thanks to growing up together as childhood friends.

tell me i'm not getting too ahead of time, but i gotta say this. when you’re pregnant, caleb has this habit of saying “shush, i’m talking to the baby” every time he rests his head on your belly.

THAT'S SO CUTE, RIGHT? URGH.

he loves being in control – not in a domineering way, but because he wants to make sure you feel completely taken care of. he’s meticulous, learning what you like and pushing those boundaries just enough to drive you wild.

his size is an obsession for him – he’s hyperaware of how much bigger he is compared to you, and he uses it to his advantage. holding your wrists in one hand, pinning you beneath him, or just the way his body completely overshadows yours—it gets him going every time.

he’s vocal, but only for you – low grunts, whispered praise, and occasionally losing control with a deep growl when you hit just the right spot. but he’s also hyperaware of how you react, loving every gasp and whimper that escapes your lips.

a possessive streak – he doesn’t say it outright, but the way his hands grip your hips or how he marks your skin with kisses is all about claiming you. his touch lingers, even when you’re just walking around afterward.

obsessed with eye contact – he insists you look at him, especially in your most vulnerable moments. “keep your eyes on me,” he murmurs, his gaze locking you in place as if the world outside the two of you doesn’t exist.

an absolute tease – he loves winding you up, taking his time until you’re begging him to stop playing around. slow kisses down your neck, feather-light touches that leave you trembling—he knows exactly what he’s doing.

his hands – they’re huge and rough, but his touch is incredibly gentle when he wants it to be. he loves how your body reacts to the contrast, and he uses it to his full advantage, whether he’s tracing your spine or gripping your thighs.

THE BIONIC ARM? OH MY GAWD.

he really hates the fact that he can't feel you - at all. but his prosthetic can come in handy sometimes 😏

he could use his arm’s advanced capabilities, like adjustable pressure or vibration, to focus on your pleasure, experimenting with new sensations. GUYS I HAD TO SAY IT.

i just know he teases you gliding the cool metal over warm, flushed skin and eliciting shivers of delight.

not him using it like your own personal vibrator. turning on subtle vibrations during a kiss or when he's fingering you.

he LOVES to explore areas like the neck, back, or thighs, using varying pressures to heighten your sensitivity.

aftercare king – he’s all about making sure you feel safe and comfortable afterward.

he’s a little shy about certain things – despite his confidence, there are moments when he feels self-conscious, like when you run your fingers along the scars on his body. but your touch soothes him, and he grows to crave the intimacy of being vulnerable with you. again, his prothetic can become a insecurity of him on these times.

unexpectedly playful – he likes to keep things fun, especially when the mood is light. sneaky touches, biting your ear just to hear you squeak, or pulling you onto his lap when you least expect it.

easily undone by you taking control – as much as he loves being in charge, when you take the lead, he absolutely melts. seeing you confident and assertive makes him lose every ounce of his composure. I JUST KNOW HE LOVES IT.

praise kink on both sides – he loves telling you how good you’re being, how beautiful you are, and how perfect you feel. but he’s also weak for your praise—if you tell him how much you want him or how amazing he’s making you feel, it’s game over.

a sucker for your scent – burying his face in your neck or your hair is his favorite thing. he associates your scent with safety and home, and it’s an instant comfort for him, even when things heat up. i just know he missed you so much while he was gone.

light experimentation – he’s always willing to try new things if it means making you happy. he might be cautious at first, but your enthusiasm has a way of bringing out his adventurous side.

he’s an absolute wreck for soft moments – when you’re tender and loving, gently tracing his features or whispering sweet things, it undoes him completely. he’s all about intensity, but those quiet, intimate moments leave him weak in the knees.

he’s competitive – if you ever tease him or play hard to get, he rises to the challenge, determined to win you over every single time. and when he does, he’ll make sure you know it.

obsessed with your reactions – he watches your every move, cataloging the way your body arches, the sounds you make, and the way your breath catches. nothing escapes his attention, and he uses that knowledge to drive you to the brink.

neck kisses – his favorite spot to tease and mark. he loves the way you shiver when his lips brush over that sensitive spot just below your ear.

secretly loves when you’re a little rough – tugging on his hair, biting his shoulder, or leaving marks on his skin? he thrives on the proof of how much you want him. it’s like a badge of honor for him.

he’s insanely attentive to detail – he remembers everything you like, from the way you gasp when he kisses your collarbone to how your breathing changes when you’re close. he uses that knowledge to make sure you’re always completely satisfied.

i need to write about him loving us ASAP, bye.

author's note: i came up with these while trying to write for caleb's love language (the thrid chapter) and i thought i could use it as a solo post hehe. see you guys next! send me a request • my masterpost

[nomie-11]

First Call Back

masterlist! | part 1 here!

synopsis: after your impromptu move to Piltover, not all of your solutions are solved, but you're finally together again, so maybe this could work out, right?

pairings: vi x reader, powder is lowkey reader's adoptive daughter

“I’m heading out early today, so don’t look for me when you wake up. Breakfast is in the fridge, Powder is At school, and I’ve started the laundry. Don’t forget that ‘how is Powder adjusting to fancy private school meeting’ is tomorrow at 7:00. I promise I’ll shower after work so I don’t scare off the teacher. See you later. Love you, babe.” 

—phone call from Vi to Y/n, September 3rd, 7:32 a.m.

—————

You hadn’t quite made up your mind about Piltover yet. Yes, you had already moved there, and what little belongings you had were already set and away in your new apartment, but Piltover was weird. 

You could tell Powder wasn’t entirely happy about it, too. You and Vi had lined up the move so that Powder would start fresh on her first day of her first year of high school. The two of you (and Caitlyn) had even taken Powder out to get some new clothes, and she appreciated it, but you knew when she wasn’t feeling great. 

It all came to a head when, one night for dinner, you were sitting across from Powder, Vi on your other side with her textbooks and notes spread out, headphones pulled securely down over her ears. 

“How was school today, baby?” you asked softly, looking up from your plate to her, sitting in the kitchen chair she had claimed as her own, her knees pulled into her chest. Her soft, violet blue eyes were rimmed red as she glanced at you. 

“It was fine,” she mumbled, using her fork to push around her food on her plate, immediately shifting her gaze back down. She hadn’t taken a single bite all night—something that used to be foreign, she always used to eat, purely off the knowledge that you had sacrificed something for her plate to be full. 

With a soft sigh, you reached across the table, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. 

“You’ll tell me when you want me to braid your hair, okay?” 

She just nodded, dropping her fork onto the plate and pushing it towards you. “Thanks for dinner.” 

—————

“Did Powder tell you what’s going on? Those fancy Piltover assholes have been bullying her—saying she’s too skinny, that her hair is weird. They took her sketchbook today and started tearing out pages. When she got home from school, she just went straight to her room, didn’t even say hi. I had to force her to tell me when she finally grabbed a snack and took one of your high protein, high calorie bars that she hates.”

—phone call from Y/n to Vi, September 28th, 4:39 p.m.

—————

The walls of the apartment were a sterile white. Powder originally was excited to decorate them with you, but the excitement had fizzled out as quickly as it came. Boxes still sat unopened in the corner of her room, her sketches and art supplies untouched. The bright posters you’d picked out to liven up the place remained rolled up on her desk. She spent most of her time curled up on her bed, headphones in, drowning out the world. 

It hurt to see her like this. Powder had always been the spark, the light in the darkest days. Now, her spark seemed dimmed, weighed down by the move, the new school, and the unfamiliar faces that didn’t bother to understand her. 

That night, as you were tidying up the kitchen, you heard her soft footsteps approach. Powder hovered at the edge of the room, her arms wrapped around herself, looking smaller than ever. 

“Hey, baby,” you said, wiping your hands on a towel. “What’s up?”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering to the floor. Then, barely above a whisper, she said, “Can I… can I have some juice?”

“Of course,” you replied, trying to keep your voice light as you moved to the fridge. “You want your usual cup and straw too?”

She nodded, still not meeting your eyes. You grabbed the juice in silence, the quiet punctuated only by the soft click of Powder’s favorite cup against the metal of her straw. When it was ready, you placed the cup in front of her at the table, sitting down across from her. 

For a moment, she just stared at the mug, her hands cradling it for warmth. Then, she took a shaky breath and said, “I miss home.” 

Your heart clenched. “I know, baby,” you said softly. “It’s okay to miss it. This is a big change.” 

She nodded again, her eyes glassy. “It’s just… everything’s different here. The school, the kids, they don’t get me.” 

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, reaching out to take her hand. “I”m sorry I can’t fix this for you, but you don’t have to go through this alone, okay? Me and Vi—we’re here for you. Always.” 

Powder sniffed, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. Then, out of nowhere, she murmured, “Thanks, mom.” 

The words hit you like a freight train. Your breath caught, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at her. Powder didn’t even seem to realize what she’d said, her focus still on the mug in her hands. 

—————

“I don’t think she even knows she did it on purpose. But it still hit me, Y/n. Like I’ve been trying so hard to make things better, to be there, and she… she doesn’t even see me like that. I guess I deserve it. I left her.” 

—phone call from Vi to Y/n, September 29th, 12:14 a.m.

—————

The next morning, Vi wasn’t at the breakfast table. Powder had barely touched her cereal, her spoon stirring it listlessly. You decided against pushing her to eat more; the last thing she needed was added pressure. 

“Vi’s still upset, huh?” Powder asked, her voice small. 

“She’s just tired, baby,” You said, sitting down beside her. “She loves you so much, Powder. You know that, right?” 

Powder nodded, but her eyes stayed downcast. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.” 

“I know,” you murmured, brushing a strand of her soft blue hair behind her ear. “It’s just… complicated. She’s trying to figure out how to be what you need. And sometimes, it’s easier for her to feel like she’s not enough.” 

Powder looked up at you then, eyes wide. “But she is. She’s enough.” 

“I think she needs to hear that from you,” you said gently. 

—————

“Can you come home? Powder feels like shit, and I know you said you’re going for a run and I shouldn’t wait up for you, but I need to talk to you tonight.”

—phone call from Y/n to Vi, October 12th, 11:23 p.m.

—————

Powder had already gone to bed when Vi finally came through the door, her face flushed from a run that went on for longer than was originally planned. You were sitting on the couch, nursing a cup of tea, waiting for her. 

“Hey,” you said softly. 

“Hey,” she replied, toeing off her shoes. She didn’t sit beside you, instead heading for the kitchen to grab a glass of water. 

“You can’t just keep running away,” you said, your voice calm but firm. 

Vi froze mid-pour. “I’m not running,” she said after a moment, her tone defensive. 

“Yes, you are,” you said, setting your tea down on the counter. “Powder needs you right now. She feels terrible about what happened, Vi. And honestly? So do I.”

Vi turned to face you, her jaw tight. “Why would you feel terrible? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Because I should’ve seen this coming,” you said, standing up. “I should’ve talked to you about how she sees me, about how much she relies on me when you’re not around. This wasn’t fair to either of you.” 

Vi’s shoulders slumped, her anger deflating. “I just… I wanted to fix things,” she said, her voice cracking. “I wanted her to see me as her sister again, not some stranger who shows up every now and then.” 

“She does,” you said, stepping closer, resting your hand on her arm. “But Vi, you can’t force her to heal overnight. She’s grown up. She’s changed.” 

Vi’s eyes filled with tears, and she set the glass down with a shaky hand, wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face in her shoulder. “I’m not cut out for this,” she whispered. 

“You are,” you said firmly, wrapping your arms around her. “We’ll figure this out.”

—————

“I helped Powder with her art project last night. We stayed up until midnight cutting out tiny stars because Powder didn’t like how hers turned out. It was the first time I’ve seen Powder smile in weeks. I think… I think we might be okay.” 

—phone call from Vi to Caitlyn Kiramman, October 17th, 10:22 a.m.

—————

The next week, the three of you went out for ice cream. It wasn’t much—just a quick trip to a small shop down the block—but it felt like a turning point. Powder clung to Vi’s arm the whole way there, her sketchbook tucked under her other arm. Vi didn’t let go once, even holding the door open with her foot. 

As you sat at a table, Powder flipping through her drawings to show Vi her latest ideas, you caught a glimpse of the sister Vi had been before everything had fallen apart. She laughed at Powder’s jokes, teased her about her favorite colors, and even let Powder draw on her arms around her tattoos.

“Maybe you should get it tattooed,” Powder said with a smile, pulling back her marker to give you a clear view of the intricate lines of flowers crawling up Vi’s mechanical ink. 

Vi grinned. “You think so? Maybe we can get matching ones someday.” 

Powder’s eyes lit up. “Really?” 

“Totally,” Vi said, ruffling her hair. 

You watched them, your chest tight with a mix of relief and undying love. For the first time since the move, things felt… okay.

—————

“I saw Powder hug Vi today. Like, really hug her—not one of those quick, awkward ones. She clung to her, just like she used to. Vi cried when she thought I wasn’t looking.” 

—phone call from Y/n to Caitlyn Kiramman, October 28th, 7:48 p.m.

—————

Powder and Ekko had claimed the living room, their laughter spilling into the kitchen where you and Vi were cleaning up after dinner. Powder’s sketchbook and Ekko’s toolbox—filled with small scraps of metal and wires—were spread out on the coffee table, and you could hear them trading ideas for some kind of contraption they wanted to build together. 

“They’re loud, but I’m not complaining,” Vi said, drying a plate. 

“Neither am I,” you said with a soft smile, handing her another dish to dry. “She’s never had a friend like him before.”

Vi glanced over her shoulder at the two teens, her expression softening. “She deserves to have someone like him. Someone who gets it.” 

“Yeah, she does,” you agreed, turning back to the sink. “Genius and madness. Let’s just hope they don’t blow up the apartment.” 

Vi snorted, leaning on the counter beside you, her shoulder brushing yours. “If they do, at least we know Powder will find a way to fix it.” 

You chuckled, glancing over at the living room. Powder was laughing now, a real, uninhibited laugh that filled the apartment with a warmth you hadn’t realized you’d been missing. Ekko was gesturing wildly, clearly explaining some grand idea, and Powder was nodding along, her now short blue hair bobbing with enthusiasm. 

“She’s totally doing better,” Vi said quietly, her eyes on her sister. 

“She is,” you replied, reaching for her next dish. 

Vi’s hand covered yours, stilling your movement. “Thanks for sticking with us,” she said, her voice low but sincere. “I don’t say it enough, but I don’t know what we’d do without you.” 

You squeezed her hand, your heart swelling. “You don’t have to thank me, Vi. I love you both too much for you to ever have to know what you’d do without me.” 

The sound of something crashing in the living room snapped both of your heads toward the noise. Powder and Ekko froze, their eyes wide as they looked at the overturned coffee table and the scattered parts of their project. 

“Uh… we can fix it!” Powder blurted, already scrambling to gather the pieces. 

Vi groaned, running a hand over her face. “I stand by what I said. They’re definitely blowing up the apartment.”

You laughed, grabbing a towel to clean up the spilled juice. “At least they’re having fun doing it.” 

Vi smirked, shaking her head. “They’re lucky they’re cute.” 

—————

“Hey, Cait. I know I’m running late for our lab, I swear I’m on my way—I just got a little held up at home. So much is going on. Powder’s smiling more, and she’s made this friend—a kid named Ekko—just moved here from Zaun with his adoptive father. They’ve been hanging out at our place, and for once I don’t feel like I’m walking on eggshells around her. 

And Y/n just applied to Piltover University for night classes. Can you believe it? She’s so nervous, but I know she’s gonna crush it. I told her I’d help with whatever she needs. Anyways, I’m on my way! Don’t wait for me.” 

—phone call from Vi to Caitlyn Kiramman, November 4th, 11:14 a.m.

—————

The day your acceptance letter arrived, Vi practically tackled you in excitement. 

“I told you!” She crowed, spinning you around the kitchen. “I told you you’d get in!”

”Vi, put me down!” You laughed, trying to wriggle free. 

“No way! This is huge, Y/n!” She said, finally setting you down but not letting go of your hands. “You’re going to college! You’re going to kill it. I’m so proud of you.” 

You blinked back tears, your chest tightening at the pride shining in her eyes. “I wouldn’t have even applied if it wasn’t for you.” 

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Vi said, pulling you into a hug. “You did this. And I can’t wait for study dates, and walking you to and from class, and complaining about professors together, and—”

You snorted, shaking your head. “I haven’t enrolled yet, Vi. Deep breaths.”

—————

“I booked a reservation at that fancy rooftop place Caitlyn told us about. I figured we deserve a night out, just us. Ekko’s staying over with Powder—don’t worry, Benzo is cool with it. So… wear that dress I like, okay? I want to show you off a little.” 

—phone call from Vi to Y/n, 

—————

The rooftop restaurant was beautiful, lit by strings of fairy lights that twinkle like stars. Vi had somehow snagged a table near the edge (she name-dropped Caitlyn Kiramman and the hostess got nervous), where you could see all of Piltover stretched out below you. She looked good—too good—in her black button-up, the sleeves rolled up just enough to show off her tattoos and rippling muscles. 

“You clean up nice,” you teased, sipping your wine that tasted like a week’s worth of groceries. 

“You’re one to talk,” she shot back, her eyes shamelessly roamed over you. “That dress is illegal. I should arrest you.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “That line’s terrible. You shouldn’t take pickup lines from an enforcer-in-training.” 

“But it worked, didn’t it?” She said with a smug grin. 

The night passed in a blur of laughter and soft touches, a reminder of the easy connection you’d had before life got so hard. For the first time since you graduated and she moved to Piltover, you felt like a couple again-not just two people trying to hold everything together. 

As you walked home, Vi slipped her hand into yours, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. 

The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain from earlier in the evening. The streets were quieter now, the usual hustle of Piltover replaced by the soft hum of distant conversations and the occasional buzz of an airship overhead. 

“You know,” Vi started, her voice thoughtful, “for two kids trying to figure out how to raise another kid, we didn’t do too bad.” 

You smiled, squeezing her hand. “We did a pretty good job, actually. Powder is turning out great. She’s like this because of you, you know.” 

“Us,” she corrected, her gaze earnest. “Powder would’ve run for the hills if it was just me.” 

“You’re underselling yourself,” you said, nudging her shoulder. “You're a great big sister. She knows that now.” 

Vi’s lips quirked into a soft smile, her free hand brushing over her short hair. “I guess I’ll take the compliment. But I hope you know you’re the glue. Powder and I just cling to you.” 

The sincerity in her voice made your heart ache in the best way. “I do. I know.” 

The building loomed ahead, its familiar stone facade dimly lit under the streetlights. As you reached the doorway, Vi stopped, turning to face you fully. Her hands found your waist, pulling you just a little closer, her thumb brushing absentmindedly over the fabric of your dress. 

“I meant what I said earlier,” she murmured, her voice loud. “And I’m so proud of you. Not just for tonight—for everything. Going to college, always working so hard for Powder, you’ve been carrying all of us, and you make it look so effortless. And I don’t tell you enough how much I… love you.” 

The words were warm and steady, her familiar cadence grounding you in a way that nothing else could. “You don’t have to. I feel it every day.” 

Her smile softened, her eyes searching yours in the quiet of the moment. Then, slowly, she leaned in, her lips brushing yours with a tenderness that took you back to the first time you kissed on the roof of her dad’s old apartment building. You melted into her touch, your hands sliding up to rest against her chest, to feel the steady beat of her heart beneath your fingertips. 

The kiss deepened, a slow, deliberate exchange of all the things words couldn’t express. When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, Vi rested her forehead against yours, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“Let’s go home.” 

And with her hand still tightly around yours, you did. 

—————

“Hey, Pow! Don’t forget to set your alarm! I need you distracting her all day tomorrow so I can get the apartment ready. Time to propose!”

—phone call from Vi to Powder, June 13th, 1:43 a.m.

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

[littlemisssilvermoon]

Rotating an idea in my head;

Imagine a neglected!Reader who did everything in an attempt to impress their family.

Who got amazing grades and got into high school at age 11.

Who was "a savant beyond their years" and "talented beyond what their age group could be taught".

Skills came easy to them. Give them a year and some encouragement and before you know it they'll have mastered whatever it was.

It wasn't like they could leave the house and hang out with friends. Bruce said that was off the table. It got quiet so often in the manor.

But it wasn't enough

Until someone saw the potential that Batman was just leaving there. Like he wanted someone to just... scoop them up and tutor them.

Their friends and allies and even a few enemies saw the potential. They all agreed to teach them their greatest skill. In a year they've mastered all of them, even surpassing some of them.

Any drug they were developing was improved beyond anything they could've imagined.

Weapons fashioned to fit them far surpassed anything, even the best on the black market.

The Rogue Gallery was beyond impressed.

And Reader was on Cloud Nine with all the attention it was earning them. Head pats, praise, treats. It was more than anything they could've asked for. And even if they didn't have a new invention at the end of the week, so many were willing to just hang out. Without prompting! No "Go bother Alfred" or "I'm busy" or "Another time, chickadee".

Harley had to be reminded that a 12 year old had no business around hyenas, even if Budsie and Louie were on their best behavior. Harley settled for watching old magical girl animes with you.

Luckily, Poison Ivy knew not to bring you around her poisonous plants. Though she did spend a concerning time teaching you exactly what plants were poisonous and how they were poisonous.

Bane taught you everything he knew, from throwing a punch, to how to scare someone off. Granted, a 12 year old, with so much of their baby fat in their cheeks, and wrists as thick as Bane's thumb, looked like a Ragdoll kitten copying a Bengal tiger. He played chess with you too, and he said that given your role in advising, a knight or a bishop would fit you best.

Bane was your favorite. He'd smush your face (gently, you were so tiny he was scared of breaking you), lift you up, even do pushups and pull ups with you on his back.

When Bane told you how he'd saved Alfred once during a collapse of Arkham Asylum, only to be incapacitated once Alfred was "done" with him, it made your blood boil.

As you learned all of their stories, learned the human in all of them, you knew that you were saved from a family with rotten blood. You'd spend your life repaying them, even if they never asked.

--------

Eventually, you decide to follow them into battle. You're kept up and away from the bulk of the battle. This time, it was Joker vs the Batfamily. Tim was unable to track what he'd been trying to do past a few errant clues. It was clear that the Rouge Gallery had a new villain.

You were given direct instructions to watch yourself; Joker wouldn't care enough to tear his eyes off Batman. You already knew that; Harley had spent 3 days trying to convince you to reschedule with someone else, but you told her you wanted Joker, not someone who'd be tempted to glance back and give away your hiding space.

Jason was the one that saw you. You were dressed in a costume that resembled a bishop chess piece with a split full face mask, perched atop a van far from the actual battle. His old scars with Joker made him hesitate, but you looked like a definite person of interest, and everyone else was indisposed.

He ran over, firing rubber bullets as you dodged, eventually tripping and falling off the van. Why were you so small? Jason picked you up, grip just loose enough so you could breathe.

You reached up, pulling your mask off. Jason blanched as he saw your face, soft around the edges and wide eyed.

Bruce told him that he'd stayed away to protect you from the vigilante life. You were the one person who hadn't pushed to join them, so he never told you about missions to avoid any ideas of joining. Jason followed suit, and so did the others. Their lives were busy enough anyways, and you had Alfred when he didn't have something more important to do.

He may have brushed you off more than absolutely necessary, but he wasn't in the right headspace then! You had already grown so much and all he'd wanted by then was vengeance on Batman. You couldn't blame him for keeping his distance at that point. He was protecting you.

But here you were, pinned by the throat by your own brother. Your protector. He released you, taking a step back. He glanced around for an opening, seeing a small alleyway. He gestured over his shoulder for you to follow. "C'mon kid. I'll get you back home and I won't even tell Bruce you snuck out, 'k?"

Suddenly, he felt a prick in his back, shortly followed by a burning itch and ice cold pain. He fell to the ground, trying to reach the spot you pricked.

"Miss Ivy said these were dangerous. Her own home blend. It's a diluted version, so you'll be fine in a few days, Todd" said the much too calm voice above him. He was struggling to breathe around the writhing mass of pain, looking up at you between blinks of tears.

He couldn't scream, he could barely breathe. He could die here and the family wouldn't know until the dust settled.

"It won't kill you, and from the looks of it, they'll be coming to pick you up soon."

"Aren't we family?" He chokes out between gasps. He felt so lost. You were his baby sibling, the tiny thing that'd wander the halls, holding an old chess board as you asked your cool big brother to play with you. The person he kept away from to protect. How could you repay him like this?

Hadn't he done so much for you?

You look at him from the boot of the van. When had you gotten so far away? Your voice is quiet, but it's heard, if barely, over the revving of the engine as Joker's minions prepare to drive away, and the screaming of his name as the rest of the family approaches.

"Were we? I never thought you wanted a baby sibling like me."

-------

The Batfamily took him home and patched him up. The new tech, like all other recent inventions brought in, were so advanced they bordered on state of the art. Even Tim was struggling to decode any of them, with all the kill-switches that seemed to recognize when it wasn't hooked up to the original computer and bricked themselves.

Jason had recovered, like you said, in a few days. Capable of breathing easily in 2 days, regularly needing to be sedated before then, and sitting up without pain by day 5.

The Batfamily had asked him by day 4 about the masked person they had seen next to him. Jason was detached from himself. That face, those eyes. They held no warmth for him, no pity for him while he was writhing in agony at their feet. Like he was less than a stranger.

Like he was less than human in their eyes.

Your name fell off his tongue like lead, slamming against the ground as everyone fell into silence.

"It was them. They gave me that injection. Their face, I-"

"Todd, did the injection give you hallucinations? There was no way that they'd accomplish something like that." Damian raised his brow, checking the chart to make sure the bulk was out of his system.

"I know what I saw. They hadn't even injected me when I saw their face."

"That's impossible, Jay! Look, I'll go to their room and get them right now. They'll probably be pretty cranky since it's, what, 4am?" Dick's footsteps disappeared down the hall.

After a few minutes, Dick came running back, looking at Jason with a mix of shock, horror, and confusion.

Two words.

Two words that finally made them look at you.

Two words that made them realized what they'd missed.

Two words that made them connect the inventions that almost got them killed to the darling child they'd convinced themselves they were protecting with cold shoulders and smothering silence.

Two words that made them refocus their sights on bringing you back.

"They're gone."

[gpcwsl]

Lia wälti x reader where reader makes a mistake in a massive game like a semi final / final but it’s very unlike her as she is always so good on the ball and the definition of calm but sometimes we all can’t help being human. Because she is a defender her one mistake leads to the opponent scoring the winner and as it’s already extra time arsenal have no time to respond meaning they lose. Once the whistle goes reader is beyond distraught (head in shirt , crying , lying on the pitch you name it ) lias heart breaks to see her gf like this she tries to shield her from the cameras and get her off the pitch asap. Reader ends up crying herself to sleep that night only to wake up to a hoard of abuse from online trolls and so called fans. Lia helps her through it but also speaks out with a statement of her own being like “r has been so important for us let’s not forget that”

Warnings: hate online, arsenal losing an champions league final, short?

Lia Wälti x Reader:

- Always Human -

MasterList

The crowd was deafening, a sea of red and white in the stands cheering Arsenal on as they played the Champions League final. The energy was electric, the stakes higher than ever. You stood on the pitch, heart pounding in your chest but mind calm as always. Calm and composed, that’s what you were known for—your ability to keep it together under pressure, to make the right decisions in moments when others would falter.

You had been here before, in high-stakes matches, and you thrived in them. But this one felt different. It wasn’t just the pressure of the game; it was the fact that Lia, your girlfriend and captain of the team, was right there with you. Her presence grounded you, reminded you that no matter what, you had someone who believed in you.

The match was tied 1-1, and extra time was ticking away. Legs were heavy, breaths came short, and minds were fatigued. Every decision mattered. You could feel the weight of it as you intercepted a pass, scanning the field for your next move.

But then it happened.

You went to play a simple back pass to the keeper, something you’d done hundreds of times, but the ball rolled awkwardly off your foot. It wasn’t the clean connection you needed, and the opposing striker pounced. Before you could recover, she was through on goal.

A split second later, the net rippled. 2-1.

Your heart dropped into your stomach. The sound of the crowd, the cheers from the opposing fans, was muted by the pounding in your ears. You froze, watching as the other team celebrated and your teammates tried to rally each other for one last push.

But there wasn’t time. The final whistle blew not long after, and Arsenal’s dream of lifting the trophy was gone.

You fell to your knees, the enormity of your mistake crashing over you like a tidal wave. You couldn’t believe it. How could you, of all people, make such a mistake? You buried your face in your shirt, hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

Lia’s heart shattered at the sight of you. She had been jogging toward you to console you the moment the whistle blew, but seeing you like this—so broken, so unlike the strong, composed woman she loved—made her chest ache.

She crouched down beside you, her hand gentle on your back as she leaned in close. “Hey, it’s okay,” she whispered, her voice soft but urgent, trying to cut through the fog of your despair.

You didn’t respond, too lost in your own anguish. Lia glanced around and saw the cameras pointed in your direction, the lenses capturing every second of your pain. Anger flared in her chest. You didn’t deserve this—not the scrutiny, not the blame she knew would come.

“Come on,” she said gently but firmly, looping her arm around your shoulders and helping you to your feet. You stumbled, still shaking, and she held you closer, shielding your face with her body as much as she could.

The walk to the tunnel felt endless. You couldn’t stop crying, your head bowed as the weight of guilt pressed down on you. Lia whispered reassurances the entire way, but you barely heard her.

Back in the locker room, the atmosphere was somber. The team was heartbroken, but no one blamed you. If anything, they tried to console you, but you couldn’t face them. You sat in the corner, Lia by your side, until everyone else filtered out. She didn’t leave you for a second.

That night, you cried yourself to sleep in Lia’s arms, her gentle words and soft touches the only thing keeping you from completely falling apart.

The next morning, you woke to a storm. Not the literal kind, but the online kind. Notifications on your phone buzzed relentlessly, and against your better judgment, you checked them.

The comments were brutal. Fans and trolls alike were blaming you for the loss, calling you everything from “useless” to “a disgrace.” You stared at the screen, your heart sinking further with every word.

Lia walked into the room with two mugs of coffee, her smile fading the moment she saw your expression. “What’s wrong?” she asked, setting the mugs down and sitting beside you.

Wordlessly, you handed her your phone. Her jaw clenched as she read the comments, anger simmering just beneath the surface. “This is ridiculous,” she said, tossing the phone onto the bed.

Tears welled up in your eyes again. “But they’re right, Lia. I cost us the game. I—”

“No,” Lia cut you off firmly, taking your face in her hands. “You didn’t. Football is a team sport. We win together, and we lose together. One mistake doesn’t erase everything you’ve done for this team.”

You shook your head, the weight of guilt and shame still crushing you. “But—”

“No,” she said again, her tone softer this time. “You are one of the best players on this team, one of the best defenders in the world. One mistake doesn’t change that. And it definitely doesn’t change how much I love you.”

Her words broke through the fog, if only a little. You leaned into her, letting her hold you as fresh tears fell.

Later that day, Lia took to social media herself, posting a heartfelt statement:

Lia Wälti Instagram Post:

“Football is a game of highs and lows, and last night was one of the toughest moments we’ve faced as a team. But I want to be clear—Y/n has been an integral part of our success this season. Her talent, her dedication, and her calm presence have carried us through so many moments. One mistake doesn’t define her, just like it wouldn’t define any of us. We win together, and we lose together. Let’s not forget everything she’s done for this team. She deserves our support, not our criticism.”

The post quickly went viral, with teammates and fans rallying behind you. Messages of support began to pour in, and while they didn’t erase the hurt, they reminded you that you weren’t alone.

That night, as you lay in bed with Lia’s arms wrapped tightly around you, you finally started to believe her words. One mistake didn’t define you. You were human, and that was okay.

[morganakang444]

𝑑𝘰𝑛‘𝘵 ℎ𝑎𝘵𝑒 𝘵ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 || 𝑙𝑒𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑢𝑛𝑔 (𝑝𝘵 2) ౨ৎ

꒰ ꒱ྀི lee heeseung x fem!reader

☆゙ ↳ main masterlist

☆゙ ↳ prev | next

☆゙ ↳ synopsis: you don‘t want me? fine. the two of us can play that game.

the heartthrob of the campus had finally set his eyes on y/n. she was going to be his next victim, to fall for him and assume she can fix him moments before she finds herself ghosted. but y/n knew all too well…too bad she only captures heeseung‘s heart after beating him at his own game. that’s when she learns: don’t hate the player. hate the game.

☆゙ ↳ wc: 3828

☆゙ ↳ genre/warnings: a lil smutty again (y/n touches herself lol), cursing, maybe a bit rushed (?), y/n is still a virgin and heeseung is turning into a simp lwk, drinking, partying, mentions of sex, if i missed anything lmk!!

☆゙ ↳ an: i‘m super nervous to post this because i‘m rlly hoping it lives up to part one!! (i am scared that is my peak if u can‘t tell.) i‘ve had most of this written already so this is why it came so fast. part three will be taking a little while lol also i had to mention the nostalgic jackson wang party!!

in the car, karina basically dragged y/n into the passenger seat, a concerned look on her face. "are you okay?? hee didn’t give me any time to ask what happ—"

y/n waved her hand, signaling karina to stop talking. "i‘m fine. i was just getting harassed by some guy and heeseung helped me out." she placed her hand down, a smirk forming on y/n‘s face. "but your plan worked quicker than i thought it would—heeseung admitted to wanting me. and it was a real, raw, just—genuine thing that came from his mouth." y/n chuckled. "pretty soon i‘ll have to leave him hanging." she smiled, satisfied.

karina‘s mouth was agape in disbelief, blinking at y/n‘s words. "this fast? i knew playing hard to get was the best shot," karina snickered, nudging y/n‘s shoulder before starting up her car.

and as they started driving y/n remembered who karina was with before coming here; yunjin.

"how‘s it going with yunjin?" y/n noticed karina‘s grip on the steering wheel tighten.

"i don’t even know if there is anything going on with yunnie. we‘re together and we fuck and talk or go to sleep a little together before one of us has to leave." she frowns.

"so…a situationship with your ex, hm?" y/n asks sympathetically.

karina only nods. "but i‘ll be over it soon. i‘ll meet another cute girl or maybe a nice, manly guy and i‘ll probably forget all about her."

but y/n knew karina too well—she could never forget about her girlfriend since junior year of high school. she placed her manicured hand on karina’s round shoulder.

"you love her, huh?"

karina gave y/n a saddened smile. "i think you know that answer…"

"let’s go shopping and get your mind off this, hm? we can go home after and order takeout and watch a movie, yeah?"

karina nods, grinning appreciatively at y/n.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

sitting in their small dorm room, y/n‘s ipad was setup against a pillow on karina‘s bed. with blankets and pillows under them, on them, and all around them, karina and y/n sat against y/n‘s bed, a low, long, tv tray over their laps, snacks and food all over it, the girls picking up and eating whatever like it was a buffet—sushi, cheeseburger sliders, jellies, puddings, fried rice, mac n cheese, sodas, and pizza rolls on plates in front of them as their eyes were glued to '10 things i hate about you' playing on the tiny screen in front of them.

y/n was slurping down a jello cup when karina‘s phone pinged. she licked burger grease off her fingers before she wiped it on her old, oversized pajama shirt and picked up her phone.

"it‘s sunoo…he wants to know if you and i wanna come to jackson wang‘s party tomorrow night." karina says as she reads sunoo‘s message.

y/n thinks. "isn’t jackson the president of the frat he‘s in? is it going to be in the frat house?" she blinks.

karina nods. "yeah, it will be. i know you don’t like parties so we d—"

"let’s go." y/n smiles. "i never go out. and i don’t want you to stay home because of me."

karina raises a surprised brow. "you sure?"

y/n nods, sounding assured of her decision. "yeah. i wanna."

"okay, i‘ll tell sunoo.." karina smirks, happy her best friend was finally expanding her horizons.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

all through that next day, y/n rushed through her classes, not paying much attention to anything at all—except for the wonders filling her mind about her first real party.

it was ridiculous—y/n felt like a high schooler all over again.

however, that whole day y/n hadn’t bumped into heeseung once. she felt a strange sense of disappointment swell up inside of her…but she didn’t know why. and as she shook that feeling off as her last class of the day ended, she darted home to get ready with karina tonight.

"pink…pink…or…pink! 'kay…" karina sighed, helping y/n choose an outfit for later tonight.

"what‘s wrong with pink, hm?" y/n teased, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"pink isn’t sexy…" karina pulls out a silk, baby pink mini dress with a thin, white trim around the end and around the v-neck cleavage. she narrowed her eyes, analyzing the article of clothing deeply.

"this can make due…" she speaks, fingers running the material of the slit on the dress intently.

"with what?" y/n tilts her head.

"those little white heels you have—the kitten heels that are open toed. anddd…" karina trails off, grabbing y/n‘s little jewelry holder hanging in her closet. "these little pearl earrings, and your thin little pearl necklace." karina holds up a matching set of tiny dangly pearl earrings and a necklace. she lays it out on y/n‘s bed, shoes going underneath on the floor.

"and we‘ll curl the ends of your hair…and keep the makeup light, but add some glitter, hm?" karina came close to y/n, touching all over her hair, fingers running through and eyes scanning over the girl‘s soft locks.

"yes ma‘am." y/n salutes with a playful smirk before standing up. karina gives y/n‘s ass a little smack, earning a small squeal from the girl who was soon laughing.

"now go shower, you stink." karina teased.

y/n playfully scoffed before grabbing her stuff and going to the dorm showers.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

and even in the shower, y/n could only think of all the fun she was about to have as she stood under the warm water, feeling the warmness cascade down her body.

all the possibilities ran through her head—who would she dance with? would she get black out drunk and make out with someone? what if she slept with someone and lost her v card at a frat party?

y/n sighed, her mind trailing off to what it‘d feel like to finally have sex for the first time. how it‘d feel to have a man hold her close and slide in and out of her tight heat as he moaned her name with each thrust. how a man would leave a trail of hickeys down her neck and breasts as he fingered her, curling his digits inside of her warm, wet pussy, hitting the sweet spot inside of her that made her see stars.

y/n sighed in frustration, leaning her head back against the cold shower tile wall, one of the rare moments of arousal taking over her system, flowing through her veins so sweetly, making her pussy start to drip.

swallowing in defeat, y/n‘s hand traveled down, inching closer and closer to her core, the soft pads of her fingers finding her aching clit, rubbing it in tight little circles, her mouth forming an 'o' shape as her back arched off the tile wall in pleasure. y/n‘s eyes fluttered shut as small sighs left her lips, her fingers moving in a faster rhythm, her mind swarmed with thoughts of being fucked…the feeling of a hand wrapped around her throat as she was pounded into—y/n was never thinking of a specific person, to be honest. in her imagination, the man fucking her didn’t exactly have a face, (but did have a banging bod.) until her hands were moving faster and rougher over her clit, rubbing the swollen nub as she got closer and closer to her peak, her breathy moans echoing off the shower walls…and in her mind there was finally a face. one so unexpected she suddenly pulled back her hand, ripping her orgasm away from herself as her eyes flew open in shock.

why the fuck did lee heeseung‘s face appear in her mind??

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

after her shower, y/n could only stare into her own eyes through the bathroom mirror, a mix of disgust and confusion welling up inside of her.

she combed her wet hair before putting it up in a clawclip, slipping her white towel off her freshly washed and shaved body. she sighed, shuffling her playlist as she applied her skincare to her baby soft face.

all she could think about as she rubbed in her expensive serums and moisturisers was why? why did she have to think about heeseung of all people?

she wasn’t even attracted to him like that—but all y/n could do was brush it off as the fact that it was a mere flashback to the night two weeks ago that left heeseung hanging. she wouldn‘t cave in now. but heeseung was right about one thing.

y/n‘s hands were not doing the job right.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

"y/n! are you ready?" karina called from right outside their shared dorm room, coming back from the bathroom down the hall.

"yeah…" y/n reluctantly spoke, not too sure if she liked her appearance or not. she was standing in front of her full length mirror propped against her bed, looking at her body from all angles.

karina slowly walked inside, a dramatic gasp leaving her lips as she covered her mouth, staring at y/n.

"you look so hot, y/nnie!!" she squealed, coming up behind her best friend, hugging her from behind and resting her chin on the crook of y/n‘s smooth shoulder.

"you‘re so beautiful." karina smiles affectionately, her tiny purple dress touching y/n‘s. and y/n did look beautiful. her curves were perfectly accentuated by her little pink dress, her soft shoulders on full display thanks to the thin spaghetti straps. her white kitten heels showed off her freshly painted pink toenails, her moisturised skin glowing naturally.

y/n smiled softly, locking eyes with karina. "you really think so?"

karina nods. "the most."

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

it was a short drive to the s.a.e frat house which was already crowded by 11pm. y/n nervously stepped out of karina‘s car, a shaky sigh exiting her glossed lips. taking note of y/n‘s nervousness, karina reached her hand out and took y/n‘s, giving her a reassuring squeeze and a matching smile.

"don’t be scared. this‘ll be fun!" karina pulled y/n inside the huge house, the blaring music growing louder once they stepped closer and closer inside.

upon entry in the dimly lit house, it seemed like everyone from uni was there. the only lighting was shitty leds that could barely illuminate anything, and there were people making out or grinding on each other to the music in every corner of at least four rooms. y/n adverted her gaze, not wanting to feel like she was watching a live action porno about to unfold.

following karina through the crowd, y/n kept her head low, not exactly wanting to draw any attention to herself. this wasn’t really the first party moment she was imagining.

"wanna take a shot?" karina asks, now in the kitchen where the liquor was stored. y/n shakes her head. "one of us has to drive." she laughs dryly, earning a shrug from her best friend. "and that will be you," karina says in a lively manner before downing a shot. she slammed the tiny glass down on the white counter, her face contorting into disgust and eyes squeezing shut.

"fuck, that’s strong…" karina exhales, her matte lips forming an 'o' shape. y/n could smell the alcohol on karina‘s breath, making y/n slightly nauseas.

karina opened her eyes, and looked around. just then, her dark brown eyes landed on a familiar figure with shoulder length red hair and a tiny black dress. karina could tell right away it was the love of her life, huh yunjin.

"there she is, y/n…" karina holds y/n‘s arm, making her look towards yunjin‘s direction, her slender, black polished finger pointed directly to the redhead.

"call her over," spoke y/n encouragingly, trying to calm down the dark haired girl.

"what if she doesn’t want to? what if she doesn’t want to see me in public? what if s—"

y/n rolled her eyes, cutting off karina‘s nervous string of rambles, hollering yunjin‘s name, making her look at the pair. karina shyly hid behind y/n as if the girl were her shield. and as y/n motioned for yunjin to come over, karina lightly smacked y/n‘s bare arm. "what are you doing?" karina whisper yelled, unaware her ex girlfriend was making her way over to them right now.

without a word, y/n dragged karina out from behind her frame. karina stumbled, practically getting shoved into yunjin.

"umm…hi…" karina shyly spoke, adverting eye contact in contrast to her confident ex who stood in front of her.

"oh don’t act like you don’t know me…" yunjin teased, sipping out of her red solo cup as she tucked a strand of karina‘s long, curled hair behind her earring plated ear.

"wanna hang with us? we‘ve both missed you. i know she‘s seen a lot of you lately," y/n started, touching karina‘s shoulder, "but i haven’t." she playfully pouted.

yunjin smirks, softly chuckling.

"yeah, i don’t have anyone else to see." she came closer to karina, a look of enjoyment on her face at making the younger girl nervous.

y/n smiled at karina, knowing her little scheme has worked.

karina grabbed another shot, downing it quickly to subdue her nerves.

"um…wanna dance?" karina asks, her gaze falling on and off of yunjin.

"sure. i‘m always down to dance with you, rina." yunjin grabbed karina‘s hand. "you coming y/n?"

y/n shook her head. "i‘m okay, i‘ll join later—you two should get your time alone."

and with that, yunjin took karina to some other room, leaving y/n alone in the kitchen.

y/n made her rounds, talked to some people from her classes and danced a little with some guy…but she grew bored and craved time with her best friend.

"karina!" y/n called out, walking around the party. moving past people, mumbling 'sorry' and 'excuse me' a few times, her pale eyes darted around, in search for karina or at least yunjin.

but to no avail, y/n grew worried once she reached upstairs and walked in every bedroom, six out of nine containing people having sex—and karina nor yunjin were in none of them.

with an exasperated sigh, y/n pulled out her phone, looking for someone—anyone to call. and her eyes fell on one contact. heeseung.

y/n could call anyone else—annie from history class was here, her friend robin, even joshua would have come to help her. but for some reason, she really wanted to call heeseung…

pressing the contact name, she hit the call option, sighing shakily as she put her phone up to her ear, leaning up against an upstairs wall.

"hello?" y/n heard heeseung‘s voice through the line after a few rings, and faint music in the back. the same music as the party—was he here? probably. everyone else was.

"heeseung? it’s y/n…i need you…" she said with a defeated tone, laced with desperation.

"ahh, finally come to your senses, huh? but i wanna take you out first. i don’t want you to be just a hook u—"

"no, heeseung! not like that!" y/n placed her hand on her head, growing irritated. "i lost karina and yunjin. i‘m upstairs…can you help me out?"

heeseung chuckled. "on my way."

y/n hung up, placing her hands on her face as she crouched against a wall, waiting for her knight and shining armor.

within a few minutes, a hand tapped y/n‘s shoulder, and she looked up to see the person she needed most right now. she flashed a smile of relief, taking heeseung‘s extended hand and pulled herself up.

"thank you, heeseung…" she mumbled, fixing her dress.

heeseung‘s eyes trailed y/n‘s figure up and down…but not with the usual lust in his heart and eyes like he felt with other girls. there was warmth spreading through him like a flower slowly blossoming. something more of affection coursed through his veins. he could only think of her as beautiful—alluring, even instead of sexy. in this moment he would rather have held her in his arms and stroked her hair as she fell asleep instead of fucking her. and that was unusual for him.

"yeah, yeah…come on. i‘ll take you home. you sober?"

y/n nodded. "i was supposed to take the girls home."

heeseung led the girl downstairs and past the crowd, out to his car.

"i‘m glad you chose to call me…" he smiles, opening the passenger door for y/n.

y/n looked down bashfully as she got in, waiting for heeseung to get in the driver‘s seat before replying.

"i guess i figured i could count on you." she replied, putting on her seatbelt.

heeseung looked at y/n affectionately. "that means a lot to hear, you know."

and in that moment of vulnerability, both of them could have seen the truth hidden behind their eyes. the deep meaning sodden with verity. even if neither of them wanted to admit it.

but y/n only looked away. she nodded slowly, biting the inside of her lip to hold back a small smile that was about to form on her lips.

heeseung could only smirk a bit at her shy reaction, not used to her being such a timid little thing.

and with that he drove, both of his hands on the wheel. glancing towards y/n, he saw her delicate hand resting on the console between them, her attention looking out the window towards the night lit sky, and the city around them illuminated by a cascade of lights.

but heeseung was bold. when he looked at y/n, he no longer saw some girl he was chasing. he no longer saw a target to be shot at and claimed. but he didn‘t know why. he didn‘t know what this feeling he held for her exactly was…love? a twisted type of lust?

he carefully brushed his big hand against her own, giving her a chance to pull away if she didn’t want this. when she didn’t, heeseung intertwined his fingers with hers, caressing her knuckle with his thumb.

heeseung didn‘t know why he wanted to hold y/n‘s hand. he could only tell himself this was the next step to getting y/n in his bed. but as heeseung‘s gaze flickered over to the h/c girl beside him, he couldn’t shake the feeling he wanted more than a quick fuck with her. in this moment, he would rather stay like this with her, her tinier hand enveloped in his warm one, her tired frame gazing out the window towards the stars in front of them.

but heeseung could never admit to real feelings for a woman. especially one who left him so humiliated those couple of weeks ago in his dorm room.

the rest of the car ride was of pure silence—the comfortable one, though. the feeling of heeseung‘s calloused thumb contrasting y/n‘s smooth hand set aside her nerves until they got back to her dorm.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

"you know…i meant what i said over the phone.." heeseung said as the pair approached y/n‘s dorm room, looking down towards his feet before his gaze met y/n‘s.

y/n leaned against her dormitory door, her eyes squinting slightly in confusion. "what did you say..?"

heeseung smirked slightly, leaning his arm against the metal doorframe, towering over y/n. "when i said i wanted to take you out." his smirk turned into a smile of tenderness, letting her feel just how much he meant it.

"oh really?" y/n teased. "i thought you didn’t do dating.." she licked her lips, holding back a satisfied smile.

"nah..i don’t. but there’s something about you that makes me want to." heeseung tucked a strand of hair behind y/n‘s ear. "and i‘d like to figure out why.."

"okay." y/n shrugged. "then take me out. surprise me." she smiled a bit, leaning forward.

heeseung‘s hand traveled up to cup y/n‘s soft, unblemished cheek as he nodded, running the pad of his thumb over her skin.

"whatever you want, my girl.." his words were soft, and his eyes looked around y/n‘s face, his head coming closer to hers. "can..can i.." his words trailed off, but the intention was hung in the air.

y/n didn’t answer, instead she pressed her fingers to the boy‘s lips as he leaned in, biting her lip slightly, her smirk teasing as ever. as much as she was starting to like heeseung, as much as she would love to brush her lips against his in a fiery blaze if passion, she didn‘t. she needed to stay true to herself and her bet with karina. where was the fun in giving in now?

"nuh uh uh…" y/n taunted, tapping his lips with her manicured finger in rhythm with her coos. "i don’t kiss before a first date, heeseung." y/n licked her glossed lips, looking heeseung up and down in satisfaction, knowing she had him right where she wanted him as he let out a frustrated sigh onto her fingers.

"you‘re not slick if you think taking me on a date will help you get into my pants…" y/n tutted, crossing her arms.

heeseung only snickered, leaning slightly back from y/n.

"fine. i‘ll take you out, and i won’t fuck you. how about that? i‘ll show you just how serious i am okay?" heeseung smiled almost cockily, hiding the desperation behind his voice, wanting her to accept his plea.

y/n bit her lip ever so slightly, looking heeseung up and down provokingly. she shrugged. "sure. i‘ll go out with you." she spoke nonchalantly, a small smile of pride forming on her face as heeseung‘s ego deflated, and he let out a small "yes!" whisper, quickly clearing his throat and regaining his composure. "uh, okay, yeah. cool. can’t wait to see you y/n…" heeseung grinned. "how does this saturday sound?" heeseung swallowed, revealing the anticipation building up inside of him.

"sounds perfect," said y/n confidently, nudging heeseung away from her.

"now if you excuse me, i’m sleepy." y/n yawned, grabbing her keys from her mini purse and starting to unlock her door. "goodnight, heeseung…" she smiled sleepily.

"goodnight, pretty girl.." heeseung whispered. "i‘ll call you tomorrow." he planted a chaste kiss to y/n‘s smooth unblemished cheek before sauntering off down the hall.

as y/n entered her dorm and got herself unready as she shuffled her main playlist. she could only sigh every so often, wondering what heeseung’s true intent behind this date was. she couldn’t figure out why it mattered so much to her if she was being played right back—was it her ego being too big, not wanting to be toyed with the same way she was toying him? or was it because she thought she was seeing through some sort of act with his excitement and affection. but the deeper y/n thought about it, she didn’t sense any deception on heeseung‘s end. everything about him was so…genuine in a sense. but y/n has dealt with boys like this in the past, who thought they could hit and quit her—and when she rejected their advances she was met with a blocked number the next morning. however the difference between those boys in high school and lee heeseung is that he doesn’t give up that easy.

and for y/n, the real game was just about to start.

｡𖦹°‧ taglist:

@tsukikourito

@lannadray

@mheretoreadff

@yohanabanana

@cloud-lyy

@heeheelee

@girlwholovekpop

@invsomnixa1

(if ur tags are not working pls lmk ᝰ.ᐟ)

[hopefullyyoursmcg]

Routine

Motherhood.

Motherhood wasn't something you had planned in your life.

If you graduated university, a normal person’s life goal was to get a job, find a somewhat safe place to sleep under(if that even exists in Gotham City), and follow a reunion while, if you had any, keeping a close connection with your family.

Well, that last one wasn't an option in your case.

Yep, like most middle-class children, you were given the old tradition of losing your parents. In your case, it was your mom. She was a hard-working lady who used to work in big business but, after sleeping with her boss, got pregnant with you. She quit because she didn’t want the child to suffer the consequences of an unloved marriage or a possible hand-over situation.

Your parents had sex sure, but lust and love are two separate things.

Your childhood until your mother's death wasn't too bad. Your mother worked hard at a different business. You were dropped off at a nursery for most of the day, so you weren’t short on friends. At the end of the day, the two of you would eat and play together until it was time to sleep.

It was fine, not perfect but fine and most importanly you were happy.

When your mother died. It was a Friday. You were only 6, she was on a late-night shift and had left you with a trusted old lady that smelled like cat pee but was kind. She had promised you before you left that the two of you would go out to your favorite burger place after your first day of primary school.

That day never happened.

All that’s left of her is her pearl earring. Only one of them, as the burglar that murdered her snatched the other pearl off her ear before running off.

What happened afterward was a blur, the police picked you up, took you to the station, told you what happened, and gave you the hearing after it was processed. You didn’t cry until you saw the earrings. The earrings were a sign that she was dead, and she was never coming back.

How they found out about your father was very surprising. A policeman was told to grab the kid's things while waiting for child services.

While looking for some important documents, they found an envelope that had on its front:

“In case of my death”

The envelope contained a will. It was neat and tidy and straight to the point. Your mother was always two steps ahead and always wanted to be prepared for anything. So she created a trust fund the moment she gave birth to you, just in case something ever happened to you, you’d at least be fine financially. It wasn't a lot but there was an intrest plan included within the trust fund so as you grew so was the money.

That wasn't all, of course, your father was revealed within this letter as well, in the case where you were still underaged when she died, as she had no family of her own.

Bruce Wayne was your biological father.

So what happened after that, well like most neglected reader fics, yours wasn't any different.

 Bruce did take you in but this was during the time of Jason's death so emotionally Bruce couldn’t be there for you. Dick was already out of the manor so all you had left was Alfred.

The old man did take care of you yes. He made sure you were full of healthy and delicious food and brought you to places you needed to be like your fancy new school. But Alfred couldn’t always be there which left you to be alone.

One thing you noticed while being alone after a few years is that it hurts. I mean sure your mom had to work late, but at least you had grandma pee (yes you called her that, she thought you were saying the letter p as her name is Penelope), and as soon as she came back all her attention was on you.

Due to this, you grew up and fast. You knew this family wasn't going to include you so why should you bother, I mean as Bruce's army of children grew and grew, it was obvious he could spend time with them. He just didn’t want to spend time with you.

The moment you finish high school, you turn 18, and that was when you can access your trust fund, and with the money you were entitled to you used it for University and studied your ass off.

You had a plan. You were going to graduate, you were going to get a job and then you would be the furthest highest penthouse and you were going to do well in life. Like your mother, you had a stubborn drive and you weren’t going to just lie around.

So after a few years, you did it, you weren’t valedictorian or anything like that, but all that mattered was you graduated Gotham State University with a nice job as a receptionist at this office that was owned by the new founder of a women-only company. The benefits were great, the pay was good and some of your female friends had gotten jobs at the same place at other departments.

You were doing fine.  Your friends that you made along the way insisted on going out. To celebrate.

And I mean you earned it, you had just graduated from freaken university you deserved this big break before your boring work life started next month.

So you partied, you got drunk, and there were good-looking men everywhere.

What could possibly go wrong?

A positive Pregnancy test in front you would probably do it.

-----

This is my fist time writing something like this so please forgive me if this is bad. ill delete in a few days if it doesnt feel right.

[tastesousweet]

01 : Who’s the New Guy?

hamzah has a summer gig as the pool boy for one of his friends and y/n can’t help it if she’s just so intrigued by this friend of her brother’s.

01. 02. 03.

crushes came to you quite often.

you remember playground crushes; the boys you liked to stare at from afar as you played in the sand as a child. or the boys who frequented your prestigious ballet studio who were pretty and rambunctious which aided your curiosity. there was presley in high school who you found undeniably cool with his tattoos and effortless guitar playing skills; things ended with your heart torn at the fact that he admitted to enjoying your admiration and desire for him more than you and your entirety. he must’ve thought you were some ditz with the way he spoke to you that night : “i’m sorry, but i’m no liar, i never said i loved you, let alone liked you. in what world would we ever be together, y/n?”

your older sister, mina, has always told you boys are nothing but compliant lap dogs to the other boys around them; she warned you that you’ll never find one that would hold you because just because you asked (or even better if you didn’t have to ask), that he would make sure his buddy is wrapping his arms around a girl before he found it okay to do so. give and take, a fight for validation. a constant look around to ensure they’re accepted among themselves, “they’ll never learn to care if you except the bare minimum from them and it’s only worse that you’re so quick to accept any “love” without them having to at least try, y/n.”

she told you not to get caught up in the drama that came with boys (their breaking hearts and such) — or the other catty girls who were in competition to hold a guy’s attention for longer than a night in bed or date night out.

your older brother (who's also mila's twin) always claimed that your sister was spitting out a mouthful of bullshit whenever she’d start her hate-speech against men. this would typically lead the two to begin their own brawl, leaving you to solemnly look the other way, to find a safe piece of eye-candy that would surely turn your pupils into tiny black hearts.

while you tend to get a little fantastical about your intense desire for devotion and affection, your first, grounded love came in the form of ballet.

at age four you found yourself captivated by a small ballet theater production of sleeping beauty, you still fondly remember your great aunt accompanying you and the way she cried the entire time. you haven’t known a time where you weren’t amazed by the way you could move your body. you remember stretching yourself obsessively and eventually by age six you were watching late night shows with your family while maintaining a full split in front of the tv.

yet now, at nineteen that childhood dream you’ve worked towards your entire life feels like an overwhelming, burnt-out nightmare with clouded vision and harshly barked orders of “higher!” “now tighter!” “follow through!” “be consistent!” from your roster of highly established instructors, all fighting around in your head.

those first two years of school gave you a glimpse of what you’ve always thought you wanted — early mornings, strict diets, long days of structured dancing, endless nights of studying, eye bags covered in concealer, headaches from tight ponytails or buns, icing your knee caps on weekends, losing your mind and your poise demeanor without a doubt by the end of each semester. and above all you missed your parents, so bad.

so, after much pouting (and a few phone calls that consisted of you crying and blubbering about how broken down you’d become), your parents allowed for you to spend your summer break at home with them (rather than your usual confinement to an acclaimed, private ballet institution for the entire break), under the guise that you’d be training with your old high school instructor to ensure you maintain your pristine skill level. you were sure that obligation was easy enough, as you’d already been through the hell of it in the spring.

now the sun beats on your glowy skin as you lie on a cream lounge chair. the bikini you wear is a soft kiss of pink, decorated in tiny black polka dots, that leaves little to imagine. your long legs are crossed at the ankle, bare feet exposed with your toes painted an elegant matching shade of pink. your book is now abandoned at your hip as you gaze, with squinted eyes, at the boy stood across the lawn’s wide stretch of concrete. his focus is on cleaning your family pool — rarely stopping unless he finds it completely necessary to wipe away a growing layer of sweat from his forehead.

he’s hasn’t given you any attention, barely a glance over, nothing close to an introduction. yet he’s somehow become your new person of interest with such little effort or time. you’ve covered yourself in sunscreen (in a slow fashion just in case he wanted a teasing show mid-shift), flipped onto your stomach to show off the curve of your ass as you read a few chapters of a memoir (trying to focus on the words written in times new roman to avoid getting distracted by the tall man), you’ve gone inside to grab a pair of sunglasses (to have a reason to walk by him and gain a shield that allows you to stare without your eyes on display), after ten minutes you decided sunglasses made the world far too dark and you would rather he know you’re staring at him than stare and get a poor view.

there was something about his warm, beautifully tanned skin and toned arms working against his white wife-beater that hugged him well. and his face was so inviting — you liked it when he had a question about a certain pipe and went to ask your dad about it, as he listened he cracked a smile and gave a nod of his head in understanding. it’s unbearable that you don’t know his name, but you can imagine it’s something cute that you’d like the sound of when hearing your voice deliver it.

after a much needed bathroom break, you make your way back outside with a deep red, raspberry popsicle in your hand. you lick over the cold dessert a few times as you move closer to where the boy sits, obviously exhausted, with his head tilted down towards his knees.

“hi,” you speak, standing in front of him.

he seems to be caught off guard by your presence, flinching slightly before looking up (attempting to refrain from scanning over your exposed body), “uh, hey?”

“are you finished?” you question with a slight head tilt.

“oh, not really, i just have t’pressure check the jets in the hot tub. that’s my bad, ill get back to it.” he goes to stand but you place your hand gently on his shoulder so that he stays.

you both look at your hand’s placement then into each other’s eyes. you smile awkwardly, taking your hand off of him and begin pretending to dust something off of his shoulder, “… just some sorta feather or …” you clear your throat and retract your hand again, “sorry, um, i just thought i’d introduce myself. because- well, i live here and i guess i … just wanted to know your name,” you speak softly and bring the popsicle to your mouth to suckle a little more.

your eyes look at him with a sense and emotion he’s not sure anyone has in his entire life. you’re like a viper or siren, some sort of creature that’s hypnotizing him with beauty and desire. as he speaks you continue lapping the popsicle in your mouth, he clears his throat, “hamzah.”

“hamzah? i like it.” you love it.

“yeah?” he looks down at the popsicle that’s now slick from your mouth’s warmth, then he’s looking back in your eyes, “thanks.”

“how’d my parent’s find such a cutie to come pour chlorine in the pool?” you flirt.

“i mean i do more than pour chlorine in a pool, y’know i check the piping, change the tank …” your stare is so captivating it’s hard for him to not feel like blushing, “i’ll, uh, tell you all about it later. t’answer your question, i’m friends with leo and needed a summer gig before goin’ back to school.”

you can’t believe it’s true — your brother doesn’t have nice friends. your brother even doesn’t have friends with real jobs let alone any that plan to complete college. you laugh softly, “no, you’re not? i know all of my brother’s friends.”

hamzah shrugs his shoulders, “i mean, i guess we weren’t the closest in high school,” he pinches his eyes slightly, “you are the younger sister, right? the one who’s got all that dance business goin’ on?”

you shake your head in slight embarrassment at your description, “yes, that’s me with the “dance business”” you smile, “i’m y/n.”

“cool. s’nice to meet you,” he reaches his hand out and you place yours in his hold as you two shake hands.

── .✦

you were pouring a glass of water when the idea came to you; you knew hamzah was bound to be leaving soon but you craved to hear more from him. all it took was a slight (but very intentional) tumble of the words, “i wanna invite that new pool boy to stay dinner,” for your father to immediately agree.

he continues to stir at the sizzling vegetables in his pan, “oh! that’s a wonderful idea, sweetheart, open that for for me?” he nods towards the sliding glass door.

you try not to display your excitement too blatantly, but can’t help that your socked feet glide over to the door.

your father’s immediately calling out, “hey hamzah! c’mere a minute would’ya?”

hamzah immediately bolts over, he’s out of breath and surprised to see you leaning against the open door, “hey,” he directs to you but it’s sounds more like a gasp for air than a word.

“no running by the pool,” you whisper back, watching as his face of confusion turns into another smile.

“fair,” hamzah shrugs.

“hamzah, we were hopin’ you’d stay for dinner tonight?”you father speaks loudly, and the way he says it makes it sound like more of a statement than a question.

his face lights up, “sur-”

“say yes,” you warn through your teeth, knowing your father’s irritation with any use of a word as dismissive as “sure”.

“yes, um, yes that sounds great. thank you, sir.” he can see you giggling beside him, and when your father turns away he playfully nudges your side with his elbow.

── .✦

dinner was full of undying conversation and many overlaps in dialogue. never a dull moment.

“y/n, pass the mashed potatoes,” your brother calls out.

you whine, “leo, i just said my entire body hurts from training, i’ve passed it back and forth like four times already.”

“oh my god, and somehow your complaining just ruined my appetite, anyway. i can always count on you, y/n.” he laughs under his breath.

“that’s enough, now.” your mother speaks up, “but y/n, i’m getting worried, do you think you need some extra sessions dedicated to stretching?”

“i’m fi-”

“shoot, hamzah could give you some tips on stretchin’.” your brother jokes, “weren’t you in ballet?”

hamzah is completely flushed, “like, barely, my parents forced me when i was, like, seven-”

he’s cut off as soon as you register what this could mean for you, “wait, you’d really help me?” you ask with a sense of genuine curiosity, and a big, encouraging smile of course.

“hamzah i never knew you were so, multitalented.” your mother comments.

leo laughs, “he’s n-”

hamzah clears his throat and wipes his mouth with a small napkin, “well, yeah, i’ll help out wherever i can.”

“really?!” you’re relieved that he actually agreed.

“oh good fucking luck,” your brother sighs under his breath and claps a hand against hamzah’s shoulder.

── .✦

“don’t forget you need to meet me at the studio at 6 to beat the rush, wear something flexible, and remember to bring your smart brain and lots of patience — i can be kinda bitchy that early in the morning!”

hamzah sighs, returning to standing a few inches above you now that he’s done tying his shoes in your foyer, “as opposed to bringing my dumb brain and all of my impatience —” he smiles at you and but your face is plain and straight, “right. yeah, i got it all. you also wrote it down for me on my hand, remember?” he shows his hand with purple, glittery ink covering the palm.

your arms are crossed as you explain, “yes but that’s just unreliable- it’ll be gone by morning…” you shrug and watch as he pulls a sweatshirt in over his head, “and i need to tell you these things in case you forget about me and don’t set an alarm.”

he laughs as adjusts the sleeves of the mossy green sweatshirt, “i won’t.”

“cool.”

“so i’m wakin’ up at 10 and goin’ for breakfast then meeting up with you?” he jokes and immediately catches your hand in his own before you get the chance to push his shoulder. he laughs as he brings you close, keeping your hand in his as he offers a warm side hug. “i’ll be at the studio before 6, how about that?”

you nod as you pull away, “you better.”

“uh huh,” he opens your front door and finally calls out “good night!” to your family, who all echo the sentiment back to him. before he fully walks out he turns to you, with your hold on the tall wooden door, “bye, i’ll see you in, like, nine hours or somethin’.”

“bye, thank you,” you smile and watch him rush over to his car parked on the street, “don’t forget, hamzah!” you holler and watch his figure throw a thumbs up into the air before he climbs into his slightly janky car.

── .✦

you both were a couple of yawning, baby fawns with the amount of slow blinks and constant, accidental bumps into each other as you walked into the quiet studio and found your way into a private practice room.

the colors of the walls and equipment were various muted browns and light grays. you set your duffle bag on the ground and stretched your arms above you, “so, what exactly are we doing?”

hamzah rubs at his eyes, he’s clad in basic grey sweatpants and another white wife-beater, his hair is its usual curly with slight frizz from sleep, “umm, you’re the professional here?”

“hamzahhhh, you said you would help!” you drag while adjusting yourself onto the floor, stretching out your legs on either side of you.

“yeah! but i wasn’t expectin’ to have any stretches made! im not a yoga instructor, i was just gonna be your little assistant.” he moves to the ground with you.

“m’kay, here,” you flutter your fingers to encourage him to mimic your position and hold onto your forearms, “and now flatten your back and lean forward,” you both complete the action then return to sitting up.

“what do they always say? come on, deep breaths, in!” you both hold “and out,” you both release.

you smile at him,“you’re a natural, look at you!” you compliment.

the two of you complete your entire yoga flow that you’d do almost every day at university, before progressing into the most random yoga poses you’d heard of under the guise of “let’s just try it!”

there were a few fails due to lack of balance or the need to burst into laughter but generally you two worked well together.

just before you two left you asked hamzah to help you stretch deeper, as you lie flat on a mat, lifting your leg up boldly. “i just need you to kneel down and push my leg all the way into my chest for me …” you bite at your bottom lip to suppress a smile.

hamzah finishes his sip of water, watching you lie there in that tight yoga piece, dangling a foot in the air and inviting him to be so close to you. “yeah? ‘kay, guide me.” he sets the bottle down and kneels in front of you as you asked.

“mhm, yeah here i’ll just,” you move your leg onto his shoulder and bring his hand to your lower thigh, just above your knee, “right … there.” you let your hand linger on his before looking back at him. he’s already focused on your face and your next command, “just lean forward and bring my leg with you,” you accidentally let out the tiniest, whiniest little groan.

“m’sorry,” he whispers with wide eyes.

“no, don’t. it’s good, i needed this,” you remind.

“yeah, just breathe, you’re doin’ good.” he coaches while pushing your leg further.

── .✦

“mmm! if the girls in my class knew i was eating this i’d be skinned and shunned from the program!” you shake your head, raspberry jelly dribbling from the side of your lips. you’re more than grateful hamzah suggested you both stop by a small shop, only a block away, for some post-yoga sweetness.

hamzah continues to walk back towards the studio with you next to him, crinkling wax paper wrapping into his pocket, “that’s gnarly as fuck, you couldn’t even have like a single plain donut? just one?”

“no, and half of ‘em have heart palpitations at the thought of honey nut cheerios. i think donuts would end them, unfortunately.” you wipe your face.

“well, damn maybe ballet-in’ kinda sucks?”

“maybe.” you sigh and bring the large jelly donut up to his mouth as he bites, “what’d you think it was like?”

he shrugs, chews a little, then answers, “i dunno- fun?”

you let out a soft laugh and take another bite. you’re just a little annoyed that hamzah makes it far too easy to crush on him — how dare he be so pretty and kind and actually interested…?

── .✦

a/n: hiii first part of my short series for hamzah! yaaayyy!! hope u all liked this, i did not proof read too in depth so im kinda just prayin it makes sense. love ya! <3

[k0nanharv3y]

OKAY I CANNOT LET THIS DIE

Part 1 of this bullshit

"Hero? Villain? or misunderstood mind?", "Has he done more good for Gotham than its own inhabitants? What Wayne has to say about it", "The reality of the situation; Statistics of the recent attacks on Wayne Enterprise and Gotham City"

Tim didn't read the newspaper, it was boring, he didn't like it and he didn't have time to read the latest gossip from Gotham when he was most likely there. And he didn't need a piece of paper for that, that was contamination, he could get all the information he needed with just one search. So, yeah, Tim didn't read the newspaper

But then Riddle was imprisoned without even knowing it thanks to the newspaper and so Tim set himself the task of checking every single newspaper that ever mentioned him. And damn... Reddit was a thing when it came to twisting things, but this? This is blatant show-telling

Some called him a villain who didn't know how to do his job (in the first cases, really understandable, Tim barely knew what he was doing), but he had never set out to harm Gotham and apparently some people got angry...? Because... because he didn't kill anyone? (Joker doesn't count, he wasn't anybody) ...???. Others dared to lump him in with the Bats (And God bless the spilled coffee he spat out while choking reading that) saying how come; Apparently Tim was seen as a good guy and the explosions and cyber attacks on Wayne Enterprises had not been him but another rogue who was defeated by Tim???. But the others called it "The Evolution of Batman" and refuted his statistics. Batman's way was to go out and beat them until they calmed down, Tim's way was to cut them off at the root (Joker exploding in a building was nothing more than poetry. But the trafficking networks were eradicated by giving legal and stable jobs to those who distributed it, Tim didn't take their lives, not the literal ones at least, Tim changed them)

He finished high school early and dedicated himself to helping Gotham. It wasn't even illegal (stealing from the rich isn't illegal, their mere existence is illegal and unjust) Tim wasn't a villain, the citizens of Gotham seemed to love him just like they loved Batman; and if some building had to be blown up, at least nobody lived there and it was only to piss off the Bats

Batman's attempts to stop him seemed to cease... But Tim was greedy once... just once, and that led him to mess with forces he couldn't control. And then there was a price on his head, and Shiva and Deathstroke were after him. Because Ra's doesn't find it funny that a 14-year-old kid hacks into his systems and steals money to give to the poor. Shiva ended up being kind of... weird? She didn't kill him, but she threatened him that she would sooner or later, when Tim is a real threat to her (Tim learned to fight, thanks Shiva, but fuck it, it hurt) and Slade let him live because...??? I mean, he slit his throat and gave him enough trauma to last a lifetime, but he let him live... Tim doesn't think he's that lucky, this was already playing god

And then Ra's killed his mother

///

The irony is that Tim didn't WANT his mother, of course, she was his mother and he loved her deeply, but... it was like, a love out of responsibility, Tim was a child who was presented with, look, these are your parents and you must love them and respect them because they are your parents. That Janet's death hurt him so much... it was more a matter of pride, Tim didn't want revenge because Ra's killed his mother, he wanted revenge because Ra's killed his mother

And now he wasn't going to stop Gotham from burning. He was going to create the fire for Ra's to burn with whatever it took

If Batman stopped him, he didn't care, Tim had nothing to lose. His mother was dead and Ra's would pay for it

///

This is... actually before Batman's death, but after Damian became Robin, I'm working on this as I write, I don't have anything planned so...

Someone: Oh! Plot Hole!

I throw a brick at them and make sure they don't move anymore

Me: You didn't see anything.

Part 3 because i forgot to mention it

[duhshereadz]

Jinx and Ekko preparing for battle:

Jinx stares at the paintbrush in her hand, the bristles tapping softly against her palm. Her eyes flicker back to Ekko, who is carefully mixing his own colors in a cracked tin. A nervous energy hums between them, neither sure where to start, both on edge but oddly connected in this moment. She’s still wearing the remnants of her chaotic outfit—scorched leather, mismatched gloves, and the bright blue strands of her hair tangled like a wild storm. Her fingers twitch at the brush.

“Are you gonna sit there all serious, or are you gonna paint?” she asks, her voice a little too high-pitched, as if it might crack under the weight of the moment. She’s trying to hide it, trying to turn it into something playful, but the words feel like they hang heavy in the air. She stares down at her hands, the blue paint that’s already splattered across her palms, mixing with the residual powder of explosives.

Ekko looks up, his eyes softer than she’s used to. There’s something different about him today—something less certain but also more grounded. He tilts his head, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He leans forward, setting the tin of paint down and picking up a second brush.

“I’ll paint,” he says, but his voice is quieter now. “But I’m not just painting, Jinx. I need you to listen.”

She raises an eyebrow. She doesn’t reply immediately, but her curiosity is piqued, despite herself. She twirls the brush in her fingers, her eyes narrowed in that characteristic mischievous way, but her heart’s racing, a nervous flutter in her chest.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m listening. You know I’m the best at everything, even listening,” she says with a wild grin, but it comes out almost fragile. She dips the tip of the brush into a bright purple color, the bristles splattering some paint onto her cheek in the process.

Ekko doesn’t smile this time. His gaze softens, the weight of what he’s about to say pulling him into a rare kind of seriousness that makes Jinx’s playful demeanor falter for just a second.

“You know how we both got here, right?” he starts, his voice low and steady. “How you got to be… well, this version of you?”

Her eyes flicker away, the mention of her past hitting like a punch in the gut. She clutches her brush tighter, her breath slightly sharper now.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I did a few things—exploded a few things—what’s your point?” she says quickly, looking back at the wall like she can hide behind the chaos of the artwork. Her fingers twitch with the urge to pull out one of her many grenades, but she stops herself.

Ekko sighs, his eyes distant for a moment, as if remembering something painful. He runs a hand behind his neck, avoiding her gaze for a second. Then, he looks at her, and there’s a quiet ache in his eyes. It’s hard to see him like this, vulnerable, but it makes his next words hit harder.

“I came from another place, Jinx. Another world. A world where things were… different. And you were different, too. Powder wasn’t broken. She wasn’t lost.” His voice cracks slightly as he says the name, the pain of remembering who she used to be slipping through his tough exterior. “You… you were good, Jinx. You didn’t have to be this. You could’ve been so much more. I was gonna save you. I thought I could—”

Jinx freezes, her fingers stilling on the brush as his words fall around her like rain. The name “Powder” sinks into her chest, a tightness clawing at her throat. She doesn’t know how to respond, doesn’t know if she wants to hear it, but part of her is already feeling that desperate pull, the old wound reopening. She looks at Ekko, his face so raw and open now, and something deep inside her cracks.

“Stop it,” she mutters, voice trembling just a little. She’s never been one for softness—never known how to handle it—but she knows something’s coming. Something's broken. And she hates how much she wants to believe him.

“I know you don’t want to hear this,” Ekko continues, leaning in just a bit closer, his voice soft but unwavering, “but I need you to hear it. You weren’t always Jinx. You were Powder, and you were good. You still can be. That part of you, the one that cares, the one that dreams—she’s still there. She’s not gone.”

Her heart pounds against her chest, and her grip on the brush loosens. She tries to laugh it off, but the sound is hollow, desperate. “That’s not who I am anymore. I’m Jinx.” Her voice cracks on the name.

Ekko reaches forward, taking her hand in his, his thumb brushing over the paint-streaked skin. His touch is warm, grounding, and for a moment, Jinx forgets to be afraid. He meets her eyes, and in his gaze, she sees a reflection of something she’s been running from for so long: the hope of what she used to be, and the possibility of being something more than the chaos she’s built around herself.

“You don’t have to be Jinx. You just have to be you. Whatever that means. It’s okay to let go of the bombs for a moment. You don’t always have to explode.”

For a moment, Jinx says nothing. Her heart hammers, her breath shallow. She stares at him, trying to read the sincerity in his words, trying to find some way to make them fit. But they don’t fit—not yet. She opens her mouth to speak, but instead, she suddenly stands up, her body tense, and, in a frantic movement, she grabs the nearest can of bright red paint.

“Fine!” she yells, her voice wild again, “But if I’m gonna be good—we’re gonna be good together, okay? You’re still gonna fight with me. You’re still gonna make things go boom!”

Ekko stands up too, a small laugh escaping him despite everything.

“I never said we couldn’t make things go boom,” he says, a little grin tugging at his lips. He steps forward, gently taking the can from her hands, setting it aside with a quiet chuckle. His fingers hover near hers, the air thick with tension. Then, without thinking too much about it, he leans in, just a little, closing the distance between them.

“Jinx,” he says softly, his voice low and steady. “I’m with you, whatever happens. You’re not alone.”

And just like that, the air around them shifts. Jinx’s breath catches in her throat. She’s never felt this way before—not with him, not with anyone. For a brief moment, everything inside her stills, and then her heart beats faster than she can understand. Her mind races—fighting to pull away, to push him back, but the pull between them is stronger than anything she’s ever known.

Without thinking, she moves forward, closing the space between them, pressing her lips to his. The kiss is wild, unsure, and a little broken, but it’s real. It’s not the explosion she’s used to—it’s a gentle, messy collision. When they finally pull apart, both of them are breathless.

Jinx grins, her fingers trembling against his chest. "Guess we’re really doing this, huh?" she whispers, her voice cracked but full of a strange, quiet hope.

Ekko looks down at her, his face soft, but with a spark in his eyes that tells her, for the first time in a long while, maybe they could be something good.

"Yeah," he says, his voice steady, "we are."

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DAhZ9_msWmB/?igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

This but eddie munson aka the freak when a new alt girl shows up to town and she's really into him

of course! thank you for requesting. you didn't specify if you wanted it nsfw or to go past that point so i didn't.. also i tried to ad being Alt as much as i could but i did have to google to style so..sorry

I'D BE HONOURED

Pairings: Eddie munson x fem! Summary: when moving into the trailer park, you straight away take a liking to the only one that seems to match your energy. Warnings: mention of a joint, getting a little high.

you were always moving. never staying in one city for more than 2 years.

and in all of your life. you've never come across a guy like him.

Eddie Munson.

you moved here a week ago and you've already been told the tales of the town freak.

a Satanist, a ruthless metalhead that will sacrifice you if you get too close.

you didn't really care for those rumours until you saw him on your second day, you were moving your boxes inside when you saw him across the way, sitting at a table in front of the trailer across from yours.

he looked...hot.

like he just came out of a Rockstar poster..more specifically, like the posters that were rolled up in the box you were carrying in your hands.

you understood the words they spoke of him; you were usually on the other end of them as well.

he's just a normal guy..

but a fucking hot one.

you were in your room, putting last little touches on the walls and hanging the last poster.

it was a small room, barely fitting all of your stuff, but you made it work.

but all the dark colours made it a little too dark in the room.

you flicked the switch but it wouldn't turn on.

you huffed

"are you fucking kidding me?" you rolled your eyes as you began vigorously flicking it on and off before giving up.

you looked out the window after opening the curtains and found him.

sat on a swing with his back turned to you.

he was a bit far away, but you could tell it was him by the denim vest he's wearing. no one else would dare ware something like that here, you've learnt that much.

you turned around and stood in the middle of your room.

your dad had gone out to get takeout. So it was just you.. with nothing to do

may as well try to talk to the wild beast. right?

The sun was low, casting an amber glow over the trailers in Forest Hills as you walked out of your trailer.

The soft buzz of cicadas filled the evening air, blending with the faint metallic creak of swings from the small playground by the woods. You leaned against the frame of your new trailer, arms crossed, surveying the quiet neighborhood you now called home.

Across the way, a beat-up van sat parked outside a trailer with peeling paint and a lopsided porch. It screamed personality, just like the guy who lived there.

the rumours screamed in your ears.

it's about time you met him. the freak. Trouble. Weirdo. But none of that deterred you. If anything, it piqued your interest. The world always seemed too tame for your taste, and Eddie looked like someone who could turn things upside down.

Your combat boots crunched against the gravel, but he didn’t look up. His focus was on the ground beneath his feet, the tiniest of smirks tugging at the corners of his lips as he brought a joint to his mouth.

“Mind if I join?” you asked, your voice cutting through the quiet.

Eddie’s head snapped up so quickly you thought he might fall off the swing. His wide brown eyes darted to you, then to the joint in his hand.

“Uh… I mean, yeah, sure,” he stammered, his words tumbling out in a rush. He gestured vaguely to the empty swing beside him, his other hand quickly flicking the joint away, as though you hadn’t already seen it.

“Be my guest.”

You plopped down on the swing, your legs stretched out in front of you as you kicked the ground lightly to sway back and forth.

“Didn’t think anyone still hung out at playgrounds.” you chuckled softly

Eddie let out a nervous laugh, his eyes darting between you and the ground.

“Yeah, well...Didn’t think anyone still moved into this dump,” he added quickly, though his tone was light, his curiosity evident.

You grinned, tilting your head to look at him. “Lucky for me, I did.”

you took this time to really look at him

his dishevelled mane of hair, but as much as it looks wild, it looks so soft.

his frizzy fringe just meeting his eyebrows as he raised them.

it was cute.

his eyes were glassy, and a bit red. his irises were a little blown out, but he didn't look that high.

His gaze flickered to yours, and for a moment, he seemed frozen, his fingers twitching in his lap like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. Then, as if realizing he’d been staring too long, he cleared his throat and looked away. “So, uh, what’s your… deal?”

“Deal?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “What brings you to the luxurious Forest Hills?” He forced out a chuckle, but you caught the slight wobble in his voice.

You shrugged. “My dad wanted a change of scenery. Hawkins seemed like the perfect mix of boring and cheap.”

Eddie laughed, a little too loudly, before clamping his mouth shut.

“Yeah, well, Hawkins excels at boring,” he said, his words a little rushed. “Freaks like me are the only excitement you’ll get.”

You leaned closer, resting your elbow on the swing’s chain as you smirked at him.

“Good thing I like freaks, then.”

Eddie froze, his eyes widening as his face flushed a deep red. “Uh…I- thanks? I- uh- I think?” He fumbled for a response, his hands gripping the chain of his swing so tightly that it creaked.

You laughed, the sound bright and easy. “Relax, Eddie. I’m not here to bite. Yet.”

That earned you another breathy laugh, though he quickly tried to hide his face behind his curls as he gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing at the base of his throat “you already know my name then, I take it”

you shrugged, realised he hadn't actually introduced himself to you yet

"doesn't take a while to hear about the tales of Eddie Munson and his cult" you joked

he looked down, kicking his foot on the dried grass "I don't-"

you cut him off "- I know"

you shake your head realising he still doesn't know your name, and you introduce yourself with a small smile

"nice to meet you" he smiles, brushing his hair from his face to reveal his dimples

The two of you sat there for a while, the silence between you comfortable. When he finally offered you the joint, he hesitated.

“Uh, here. If, you know… you want.” his fingers brushing against yours briefly before he yanked his hand back like he’d been burned.

You took it without hesitation, a grin tugging at your lips. “Thanks.”

“So,” you said, exhaling the smoke and leaning back on the swing. “What do people do for fun around here? Or is this town as dead as it seems?”

Eddie smirked, though there was still a flicker of nervous energy in his eyes.

“well..if you stick with me, new girl. I promise to show you some fun"

You grinned, feeling like you’d just stepped into something far more exciting than you’d expected when you moved here.

“well, if you got anything better than this" you motioned to the joint "that will be a good start"

Eddie smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Well, if you’re looking for something a little better than that,” he said, flicking the joint away with a casual flick of his wrist. “I’ve got the good stuff back at my trailer. Trust me, it’ll knock your socks off.”

You couldn’t help but grin at his boldness. “oh?” you raised an eyebrow, motioning to the joint you’d just smoked. “Now you’ve got my attention.”

Eddie’s grin softened, but he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as if suddenly unsure. “Uh, yeah, but, I mean… it’s not, like, fancy or anything. Just, uh, a little stronger than what you’re used to.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I guess if you want, I can show you.”

You raised your other eyebrow. “Oh, I’m definitely in. Lead the way,” you said, your voice teasing, but genuinely interested.

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his nervous energy palpable.

“Yeah, sure.” He started heading toward the path leading to his trailer, but his movements felt a little more jittery than usual, like he wasn’t quite sure if you were just humouring him or actually interested.

You followed him, enjoying the quiet tension between you two as the rustling leaves beneath your feet filled the silence. There was something raw and magnetic about the way Eddie carried himself- even if he was clearly unsure about letting you into his space, it only made you more curious.

When you arrived at his trailer, Eddie hesitated at the door for a second before fumbling for his keys. He finally unlocked it with a soft click and pushed the door open. You stepped inside, immediately hit with the mixed scent of incense, smoke, and something heavier- weed, for sure.

The inside of the trailer was cluttered in the best way. things stacked in the corners, folded messily, a whole bunch of ashtrays and stains on the rugs. it was chaotic but in a way that screamed Eddie- the only thing that seemed odd for him were all the hats on the wall- because you couldn't imagine Eddie wearing a hat, especially with his head of hair, it would look a bit weird.

you liked it. this was his personal haven, but now that you were stepping inside, it was obvious that this wasn’t a space he was used to sharing with anyone- especially not a girl.

Eddie cleared his throat, standing by the door awkwardly as he gestured toward the mess.

“Uh, yeah, sorry about the, uh, the mess. It’s, uh, not exactly... company-ready or anything.” He shifted on his feet, his hands slightly trembling as he scratched the back of his neck.

"I, uh, usually keep it... you know, just for me...and Wayne" He glanced at you with an almost apologetic look. "But, you know... make yourself at home or whatever."

You smiled, feeling more at ease. “It’s fine, Eddie,” you said, your voice soft but reassuring. "It looks like you’ve got some good stuff in here."

Eddie gave you a tight smile, but it was obvious he was still self-conscious.

“Yeah, yeah... uh..mostly my uncles so..” He moved toward a pile of records, his movements a little faster now, almost like he was trying to distract himself from his nervousness.

“Alright, I’ve got the good stuff. Just gotta find it.” He rifled through the drawers, looking for something, his hands a little shaky as he fumbled through it.

You stood in the middle of the room, watching him look under a table attached to the wall, a chair on either side of the dark wood, you found it amusing, watching him rush around, a frown on his lips as he scratched his side, his tummy peeking out of his black DIO shirt.

Finally, Eddie pulled out a small metal tin from behind a stack of vinyl's, his face lighting up.

“Ha! Got it.” He held it up, the tin looking almost like a treasure. “This is what I was talking about. It’s, uh, stronger than what you had earlier.” He set it on the table, still trying to act cool, but you could see the way his hands shook just a little. It was endearing.

You raised an eyebrow, impressed. Stepping closer to get a better look. “You weren’t kidding.”

Eddie’s smile softened, and his eyes darted to yours, clearly nervous now. He opened the tin, the scent of something far stronger than what you’d smoked earlier filling the air. He looked down at it, then back at you, his voice dropping slightly as if he was trying to gauge your reaction.

“So, uh, you want to… you know... try it?”

You stepped closer, your heart racing a little now. The air was thick with something unspoken between you two, the electricity of the moment almost palpable. “Hell yeah. Let’s see what you’ve got, Munson.” You were leaning in now, a little excited, but more than that- you were drawn to him, to this side of him he was letting you see.

Eddie swallowed, his eyes flicking between you and the tin. “Yeah, alright,” he muttered.

he still seemed a little unsure but eager to share what he had with you. He took out what he needed, trying his best to hide his nerves. You could tell this was a side of Eddie that he didn’t show to just anyone, and it made the whole situation feel more intimate than you’d expected.

he walked into the room down the hall and nodded his head to follow him

you assumed it was his room by the look of it. a mirror on the opposite wall of the door, a red and black guitar hung up gloriously. it was exactly how you pictured his room to be, but better.

so many posters littered on the wall, trash on the floor, stains on the bed that he immediately covered with a blanket when he saw you looking, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

he sat down on the floor, leaning on the side of his bed, patting the spot next to him.

you left some space as you watched him.

he passed you the rolled joint, his fingers brushed yours, and you both froze for just a second. The moment stretched, and you could feel that something had shifted between you two. Eddie didn’t say anything, but his eyes lingered on you for a beat longer than normal.

Eddie cleared his throat and pulled his hand back quickly, as if your touch had burned him. His nervous energy was palpable now, and he fidgeted with one of the rings on his fingers.

“Uh, yeah, so…” he started, his voice trailing off as he avoided your gaze, instead focusing intently on the joint like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Eddie,” you said, your voice breaking the silence and pulling his attention back to you. His brown eyes flicked to yours, wide and unsure, as if he wasn’t sure what you were about to say. “Relax,” you added, leaning back a little as you held up the joint. “You act like you're corrupting me”

He let out a shaky laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right. Of course not. You’ve probably smoked way better stuff than this, huh?” His tone was teasing, but there was a hint of genuine insecurity buried underneath.

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment before taking a slow drag, the taste of the weed filling your lungs. You exhaled, watching the smoke curl lazily into the air.

“It’s not bad,” you said finally, offering him a sly smile. “I mean, I’ve had worse.”

Eddie’s lips quirked up into a small grin, his nerves melting just slightly.

“Well, don’t go spreading that around, no one will buy off me if you do” he joked, reaching out to take the joint from your hand. His fingers brushed yours again, and this time, he didn’t pull away so quickly.

“you mean you don't just give it out for free?" you look around, motioning to the room where you sit, looking at him knowingly. finding if funny how you're smoking this for free, but sells it for 20 bucks a pop

he laughed "yeah... think of it as a taste of what you'll need if you're in Hawkins for too long.."

"you’ve got a nice setup here,” you said, gesturing vaguely to the room.

he looked around, twirling the joint between his fingers. “Yeah, it’s definitely me. Messy, chaotic, and, uh... probably not what you’re used to.” His tone was light, but the words carried a trace of doubt.

you looked down at your clothes, the layers of fishnets and lace, your short, ruffled skirt and band tee and back up at him with an eyebrow raised “do I look like I'm not used to it?” you said, your voice soft but certain.

Eddie glanced at you; his cheeks tinged pink. “No, you uh- You’re...you look good” he said, his voice quieter now, almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

You smirked, leaning back against his bed. “Oh yeah?”

He raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “Yeah? you don't dress like every other girl here... it's nice”

“Thank you” You paused, pretending to think as you stole the joint back from him, your fingers brushing his once more. “you know, i expected you to be different"

he raised an eyebrow "oh yea? how different?"

you shrugged "I don't know...Cocky. Loud. Completely full of himself.”

Eddie laughed at that, the sound nervous but genuine. “Oh, don’t worry, I can be all those things. Just, uh, takes me a minute to warm up when a girl’s sitting in my trailer for the first time.”

he looked away and shook his head. he clearly didn't mean to say that and you could tell that by the way he mumbled something under his breath, cursing himself

You blinked, surprised. “Wait. The first time?”

He froze, like he’d said too much, and quickly tried to backtrack. “I mean, not the first time. Just, you know, uh… not often. Or, like, ever.” He groaned, running a hand down his face. “Okay, yeah. First time.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound breaking the tension in the room. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

Eddie’s face turned an even deeper shade of red, and he fumbled with the joint, nearly dropping it. “Adorable?” he repeated, incredulous. “That’s a new one.”

“Well, get used to it.” You took another drag and passed it back to him, your gaze lingering on his as the air between you grew heavy again.

Eddie hesitated, the joint halfway to his lips. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, his voice quieter now, a mix of nerves and intrigue.

“I think you know what it means, Munson,” you said, leaning back with a satisfied smirk.

Eddie stared at you for a moment, his lips twitching like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. Finally, he smiled—small, shy, but real. “Yeah, ok” he said softly, taking a drag and exhaling the smoke slowly.

you smiled and sat on your knees, kicking your legs to the side, leaning closer to him and propping yourself on your hand.

Eddie passed you the joint, his fingers brushing yours, His gaze flickered up to meet yours before darting away, a flush creeping over his cheeks. He fumbled with his rings, suddenly looking very aware of the space between you.

You took a slow pull from the joint, exhaling smoke as you leaned back in your seat, watching him. “Alright, Eddie. Let’s play a game.”

His eyes darted up, wary. “A game?”

“Yeah,” you said with a teasing grin. “Five questions. We take turns, no lies, no skipping. And I promise I’ll go easy on you.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, though the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile. “This feels like a setup.”

“Only if you’ve got something to hide,” you shot back, your grin widening. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Plenty,” he muttered under his breath, but he nodded. “Fine. Hit me with your best shot, new girl.”

You leaned in slightly, your eyes glinting with amusement. “If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

Eddie perked up at the question, the nervousness easing just a little. “Anywhere but here” he snorted. “but probably L.A.. could get big with my music there”

“bet you would,” you agreed, your tone a little softer.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Alright, what’s your deal? Like, why the alt look? You actually into the music, or is it just… I don’t know, a vibe?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s not just a vibe, Munson. I’m into it, metal, punk, goth, you name it. Music, the aesthetic, the attitude… it’s all part of the package.”

you reached over and took a strand of his hair in between your fingers, twirling it.

"why? you don't like it?" you tilted your head

he blinked cluelessly that it made you wonder if he was this cute when he wasn't this high

“no, s'not a bad thing,” Eddie said quickly, his voice almost tripping over itself.

You smiled at him, tilting your head. “Good to know, What’s something you’ve always wanted to try or do but never had the guts to do?”

Eddie froze for a moment, thinking. “I don’t know...”

You threw your head back against his bed, grinning. “oh c'monn. it's ok,, you can tell me”.

He laughed, a little shakily. “um..play drums?”

you furrowed your eyebrows "I didn't mean like that but sure, fine"

you took a second to think about your next question as you took your fingers out of his hair, tracing them down his arm, grazing his hand that kept him up on the floor

Eddie swallowed thickly, you were freaking him out, in a good way..every touch you send his way is giving him tingles, burning his skin and forces a blush on his cheeks.

it's just because I'm high, right? she's not actually flirting with me he thought to himself

You leaned forward “What’s your type?” you whispered, like you were telling a secret

Eddie blinked, his mouth opening and closing like he wasn’t sure how to answer. “Type?”

“Yeah,” you pressed, the grin on your face just shy of wicked. “Like, the kind of person you’re into.”

“Uh...” He rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks turning pink. “I don’t know if I really have a type. Just... someone who doesn’t think I’m a total freak, I guess.”

You raised an eyebrow, your voice lowering slightly. “What if they think you’re a freak... in a good way? like a freaky way?”

Eddie’s eyes snapped to yours, the words clearly short-circuiting his brain. “Uh, well... I guess that’d be okay.”

You bit back a laugh, leaning back again. “Your turn.”

Eddie exhaled, his shoulders slumping like he’d just survived something. He hesitated before scratching the back of his neck nervously. “Last one. ‘I, uh—I just have to ask, um...”

You watched him flounder, a smile tugging at your lips as you waited.

but he's freaking out inside, his whole body burning up as the words spill from his lips as he stares at you.

you were making him flustered.. it wasn't fault you were giving him those looks. he's never done this, he's never had a girl talk to him..it's making him nervous

“Would you mind if..well...would you mind if I ripped off all your clothes with my teeth?”

you looked at him with a growing smile, stunned he’d actually said it. But then, with a grin, you leaned in, your voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down his spine.

“God, I’d be honoured.”

biting your lip, you watched him freeze and tense up, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped to make the perfect 'o' shape.

You giggled, leaning closer to leave a soft kiss on his cheek

"So cute" you whispered, pinching his cheek

His face flushed, and he stuttered to speak

"Well- I- um- what?"

His eyes met yours and seemed bigger than before. Brighter.

"I'll take you up on that offer. But my dad'll be home any minute, so I should probably head out, will I see you tomorrow?" You smiled

He could only nod. Staring at you with wide eyes as you got up

"Bye cutie" you winked

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

[antichilde]

margin of error: part 5

satoru gojo x fem reader, 2.1k words mdni

in which gojo figures it out

contents: teaching assistant!gojo, student!reader, no curses, college au, slight age difference (gojo is 20, you are a couple years older), he falls first, no smut (for now)

notes: Oh my god so much retconning. Gojo’s date has a name now. It was getting ridiculous referring to her as ‘his date’ all the time so my dumb ass named her Hana, conveniently forgetting that there’s a JJK character named Hana. Now she’s Manami (aka Geto’s secretary from JJK 0) because I may or may not have a weakness for her. (image citation)

part one | part two | part three | part four | read on ao3

The ache in Gojo’s chest has yet to go away. At first he doesn’t mind it, but as time passes the feeling begins to grate on his nerves like an itch he can’t quite scratch. It’s worse when you’re around so he tries to keep his distance outside of tutoring you. 

He also tries to distract himself. That’s how he ends up nursing a cider in the corner of a Halloween party he doesn’t really feel like attending. It’s too loud, and though the room is dark there’s some kind of disco ball throwing fragments of sickly orange and purple light onto the walls, meaning that Gojo is stuck wearing his glasses all night. 

He eyes Geto from across the room, watching him chat with a couple of kids they’d gone to high school with. No, he’s not quite desperate enough to go join that conversation, though with how things are going it’s only a matter of time. And what about you? What are you doing tonight? Did you stay in and get takeout like you’d planned? That sounds pretty appealing right about now, much more so than standing here avoiding eye contact with people he knows. 

Okay, he thinks, finishing off the last of his drink. Enough of this. 

He can’t keep thinking about you; it defeats the whole purpose of going out. Heading for the kitchen, he takes the opportunity to scan the room for familiar faces. There are quite a few— after all, Gojo spends a lot of his nights this way, though he usually feels much more enthusiastic about it than he does now. Eventually his eyes find their way to a bored looking girl loitering by the kitchen counter. The same girl, in fact, whom he’d been with when you’d inadvertently crashed his date. 

“Manami!” he calls, and she looks up.

Her face clouds with several emotions as he draws nearer: surprise, confusion, and finally irritation. Well, that was to be expected, given that their last encounter hadn’t ended well. 

“Gojo.” She doesn’t sound particularly pleased to see him. “What are you doing here?”

“Good question,” he says with a grimace. “I’ll let you know when I figure out an answer. What about you?”

She shrugs, taking a sip of her White Claw. “My campus was dead tonight, so I figured I’d try my luck here.”

 “Doesn’t seem like you’re having much fun.”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “I can’t say this is my idea of a good time.”

“Not much of a partygoer?”

“Parties are fine. It’s making small talk with a guy who ghosted me that I’m not a fan of.”

Gojo winces, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I probably deserve that.”

She finishes off the last of her drink. “Not probably. Definitely. Though I’ll admit that it’s nice to have someone to talk to. I don’t know anyone else here apart from Suguru.”

Pausing, Manami crushes her can and tosses it into the recycling bin. Gojo’s brows knit together as he frowns. 

“So you came here by yourself?” he asks. “I know it’s pretty safe on campus, but don’t you think that’s kind of risky?”

“Aw, you’re worried. That’s nice.” Her voice is saccharin but she’s clearly unimpressed. Reaching around him, she plucks a bottle of water from the plastic wrapped set on the counter. The lid cracks softly as she twists it, the sound barely audible over the music filtering in from the other room. “No, I didn’t come here alone. My roommate was with me, though I think she’s already gone home with someone.” 

“And are you planning on doing the same?”

“Maybe, but don’t get your hopes up,” she says, waving the question off. “I haven’t thought that far ahead… though if you keep groveling I might consider it. It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

 Don’t get your hopes up. Funny how he’s been hearing that so much lately. Even so, he’s pretty sure he knows where this interaction is going, and though he hadn’t planned on hooking up with anyone tonight it’s not like it was off the table altogether. Maybe this is what he needs.

pretty_blue_eyes: I’m heading out early

pretty_blue_eyes: You brought a key right?

suguroo: I have one. Everything ok?

pretty_blue_eyes: Yeah all good. I’m bringing someone home just a heads up

suguroo: Hmm

suguroo: Ok

pretty_blue_eyes: ??

suguroo: Dw about it. I’ll see you later

They end up back at his apartment tangled up on the couch. Manami’s body is draped over his own, his hands settled at her waist as he presses slow, lazy kisses along her jawline. He’s been saying all the right things, going through all the right motions, but it’s still not enough to keep his mind from wandering. Gojo knows she’s on to him well before she pulls back, planting a hand on either side of his shoulders and lifting herself just far enough to get a good look at him.

“Is everything okay?” he asks. He can’t make out much of her expression, not with the way her hair is falling around his face. It blocks most of the faint light filtering in through the windows.

“You tell me.”

Yeah, she definitely knows, but Gojo isn’t ready to drop his guard quite yet. 

“What do you mean?” he asks. Manami exhales in annoyance, sitting back on her heels. 

“I’m not an idiot, Gojo. I can tell you’re distracted. It’s that girl, isn’t it? The one from the restaurant?”

His mouth goes dry, and Manami’s expression falters when she realizes he isn’t going to reply. Without the curtain of her hair in the way Gojo has a front row seat to the hurt he’s caused; he doesn’t know why it bothers him so much to see the way her face falls. Honesty isn’t something that comes naturally to him, especially when there are potential consequences, but right now the idea of brushing aside her question makes him feel queasy. 

Still, it takes him a long moment to find his voice again. 

“Is it that obvious?”

“No,” she says, then pauses to reconsider. “Actually, yeah, now that I think about it.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Gojo takes a deep breath to try and regulate himself. Manami’s position is threatening to give him pins and needles but that’s the last thing on his mind right now. 

“And what exactly is it…” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “…What is it that you think is obvious?”

“It’s obvious that you like her. Really like her.”

Gojo can feel his pulse racing. He’s not ready to talk about this, not yet, but at the same time his head is filled with so many things he wants to say. 

Manami fiddles with the ends of her long hair, twisting the strands together. “I think I knew then too. When she came up to the table something about you changed. It was like… like you were taking notes in your head, and seeing that made me realize that your mind is always somewhere else when we’re together. I know we’ve never been serious, or exclusive, or anything like that. But in the moment I guess it hit me pretty hard.”

She stops, her eyes meeting Gojo’s when he finally opens them. This time she’s the one who looks away first.

“I shouldn’t have said those things. I’m not usually the kind of person who tears down other women but I took out my anger on her and that was fucked up. I’m sorry.”

The silence that stretches between them is awkward. Manami’s body tenses, her weight shifting as she struggles not to fidget, and though Gojo wishes he could mollify her with an ‘it’s fine, don’t worry about it’, she’d been honest with him. The least he can do is meet her halfway. 

“I owe you an apology as well. For ghosting you, and for using you as a way to distract myself from…”

He stops, unsure how to finish that sentence, but she understands anyway. 

“Thank you,” she says. “I needed to hear that. And I should probably get off of you now.”

Sliding off his lap without waiting for a response, she settles on the opposite side of the couch and pulls out her phone, presumably to text her ride home. Gojo sits up, wincing as the feeling returns to his legs, and though a long silence stretches between them he’s grateful that some of the tension has dissipated from the air. 

“You want to talk about it,” she says at last. It’s an observation, not a question, but even so Gojo nods in confirmation.

“Yeah.” He rakes a hand through his hair, sighing. “Yeah, I think I do. Would that be too weird?”

Manami shrugs, reaching for her purse. “I was the one who brought it up, so if it’s weird then I guess I’m equally to blame.”

Pulling out a compact mirror, she dabs at her smudged lip gloss. Gojo can feel there’s some around his mouth too, tasting it when he bites his lip in thought. Watermelon flavored, if he had to hazard a guess. 

“I don’t know,” he says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “It’s not like it’s that serious. I only met her back in August, though I don’t know if that even counts since it took her a whole month to learn my name.” 

Manami clears her throat, trying and failing to stifle a laugh. He ignores her, though if he were in her position he’s sure he’d find it funny too. 

 “It’s just that she makes me so nervous, but I keep chasing the feeling anyway. I have no idea why.”

“Gojo.” 

The sound of his name snaps him out of his own head and he turns to look at Manami. “Yeah?”

“Have you never had a crush before?”

“I have,” he says, sounding more defensive than he means to. “I had one back in freshman year.”

…of high school. 

Gojo chooses to leave that piece of information out. He also decides to withhold the fact that it had been on Geto. That’s a story for another time and place.

“But I guess it has been awhile,” he admits. “I don’t remember it being this stressful.”

She snaps the compact shut and drops it into her bag, rummaging around for a moment before pulling out her lip gloss. 

“I dunno,” she says, her voice muffled as she purses her lips to apply a new coat. “It sure sounds like a crush to me. Getting flustered, butterflies, et cetera— that’s all pretty standard.”

He buries his face in his hands, trying to will away his blushes. Manami slips the strap of her purse over one shoulder as she prepares to get up.

“It’s not a bad thing, you know.” Her voice is softer than it had been, nice in a way he knows he doesn’t deserve. “It’s stressful, yeah, but there’s nothing wrong with letting yourself feel things sometimes.”

Getting to her feet, she looks down at him, and their eyes meet as he lifts his head. 

“I should go,” she says. “I hope things work out for you, Gojo.”

“Thanks. And thank you for listening. You were right, I needed to talk about it.”

She turns away and he stands to walk her to the door. Gojo’s ready to end the conversation there, but as Manami reaches for the door handle he realizes there’s one more thing he needs to ask. “Hey, you won’t mention this to anyone, right?” He avoids her gaze, focusing instead on his umbrella. It’s still leaning against the doorframe, untouched since the night he’d walked you home. “Nobody else knows.”

“If by ‘this’ you mean your crush, then don’t worry. I won’t say anything.” One corner of her mouth twitches up as she tries not to smile. “Though I doubt it’ll make much of a difference. I have a feeling you might actually be the last person to figure it out.”

Laughing at his noise of indignation, Manami turns away, zipping up her coat as she makes a beeline for the car idling outside. A gust of chilly autumn wind ruffles Gojo’s hair and he shuts the door quickly before any more heat can escape the apartment. Pulling out his phone, he logs into his messaging app to unblock Manami, but stops when he sees his texts with Suguru are still open.

pretty_blue_eyes: I’m bringing someone home just a heads up

suguroo: Hmm

suguroo: Ok

pretty_blue_eyes: ??

suguroo: Dw about it. I’ll see you later

He turns off his phone and slips it back into his pocket, leaning against the door and shutting his eyes. Yeah, Manami was right, wasn’t she? Gojo is definitely the last to know.

[moosesarecute]

Chapter 3: The Shadow to my Flame

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Relief filled Ashe’s body as she let her friend in through the door before she closed it.

“You scared me for a second there,” she told him.

Eris had already sat down on her bed, head leaning against the wall and eyes closed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he answered. “It’s just been a rough day.”

Ashe sat down on the other side of the bed with her legs crossed. They just sat in silence for a little while. Eris never wanted her to ask and pry about his feelings. He would talk when he was ready, and that wasn’t yet.

Eris had saved her from one soldier once. The soldier had refused to let her go, even though she said no. He wanted her, and that wasn’t anything new. She would usually just let them have their way, but that day she had just started her cycle. While most males found that disgusting, that male didn’t care. It was almost like it made him want her more. Eris had randomly walked by and punched the male in the face. Eris had then helped Ashe into a warm bath.

Eris would since come to her room about once a week. Not to have sex as most the of soldiers thought, but to speak freely. Both of them.

It was terrifying at first, but eventually Ashe started to look forward to it. Their conversations were casual and safe.

“I got them out,” Eris started to speak. “The mother and her children. I helped them over the border to Summer.”

“That’s amazing, Eris.”

Eris abruptly stood up.

“They shouldn’t need to leave, Ashe! They should be able to live here as normal.”

She knew he wasn’t angry at her, but she also knew that he couldn’t show his true feelings to anyone that wasn’t her. So, she let him speak.

She listened to him as he poured his heart out. He was pacing in her small room, and every time he got close to the closet, Ashe got scared he would somehow know about the money and letter inside. Each time he turned to pace back the other direction, she felt like she could breathe again.

“I’m sorry.”

After each and every rant, Eris would end by saying sorry. Ashe had stopped telling him that it was alright, he didn’t listen to her anyway.

“How’s work?”

It was now Ashe’s turn. And she was so ready to speak about everything. But at the same time, she really wanted to read what was in the letter from Shadow.

“Honestly, I’m just tired. The amount of work is so much more than before and it’s exhausting.”

Eris’ eyes softened a little as she spoke. It was usual for him to react that way when she spoke. He never wore pity in his eyes. Only guilt.

“Do they pay you more?”

“Yeah, but still not a lot. It’s okay though. I don’t need more money.”

She thought about the money from Shadow. It must have been at least the same amount she would get for two months of work. It was crazy. It must have been a mistake. That was the only reason Ashe could think of.

Eris nodded gravely at her words.

“Chess?”

They spent the rest of the evening playing chess and card-games. Eris had eventually retreated to his own room and Ashe could finally read the letter. She ran and pulled it out the second Eris had left her room.

Thank you so much, Flame. I can assure you we are currently working on figuring out the most effective ways to help.

My High Lord has decided to join the ball Beron is hosting. Will you be there? If yes, you need to make sure you have a safe place to go to if something rather unfortunate happens. (We are not planning anything, but we don’t trust anyone.)

I have sent some money for you as payment for your help. I hope you will continue to share information with me.

Stay safe,

Shadow

And then it suddenly dawned on Ashe that she somehow had become a paid spy for the Night Court.

Ashe slept surprisingly well that night and when she woke up, she felt relaxed and well-rested.

That was until Maria came knocking on her door saying that the High Lord was calling them in for inspection.

Absolute terror filled her body.

Her hair. She hadn’t dyed her hair. She let Maria stand in the open door as she ran to her mirror. Her roots were definitely red. Her dark brown hair didn’t hide it one bit.

“Oh, dear,” Maria said with pity in her voice. “Well, there’s no time to fix it now. Come here.”

Ashe’s shoulders slumped as she walked to Maria. Maria lifted a kitchen towel she had at her waist and tied it around Ashe’s hair.

“Maybe he is less observant than usual,” she said to make Ashe’s anxiety less. It didn’t help.

They walked together with multiple other servants and went to the throne room.

The High Lord was seated at his throne, his wife sat beside him. The room started to fill up with all servants, gardeners and cooks. They stood in four long rows and waited for the High Lord to make his round. Ashe and Maria stood in the middle of the second row.

The High Lord stood from his throne, and it felt like everybody stopped breathing.

He walked slowly, almost too slowly. He stopped before each and every person. He gave some critic, but most of them he just walked past. Ashe saw him pass multiple others with similar scarfs or towels around their heads. He asked none of them to remove it. It made her calm down a little.

He started on the second row. Ashe immediately felt her back straightened. She needed to look proud. He had to see that she was proud of working for him. But at the same time, she couldn’t be too proud. She was a servant after all.

The High Lord stopped before her. She kept her back straight, but her gaze was on the ground. She gave him a small curtsy, just like everyone else had. She felt his gaze burning into her.

“Remove your headscarf.”

His intimidating voice gave her chills, but it was his command that terrified her. He would see it. He most definitely would.

She almost hesitated, but she knew it would only make it worse. She wanted to argue. To scream at him. Why did she have to remove her scarf? None of the others had to.

Luckily, she wasn’t brave enough.

Ashe lifted her hand and removed the towel from her hair.

It only took the High Lord a second before his new command came.

“Show me your arms.”

Her heart sunk. Why? Why did she have to be the first to mess up.

It didn’t matter. She did what he told her to do. She rolled up the sleaves of her dress and showed him both of her forearms. They were already covered in scars and burn marks. Some of the burn marks were from herself, but most of them were punishments.

He didn’t hesitate as he released his power and burned both her arms. The pain spread through her body. Her vision blackened for a few seconds, but for some unknown reason she managed to stand on her feet. Tears build in her eyes, but she didn’t scream. She did not scream.

“You have until tomorrow to dye your hair.”

“Yes, my lord.”

He finally moved to Maria.

Ashe had to stay in the throne room for another hour. Only two more people were punished, and both were new. Unlike Ashe, who had not only grown up as a servant, but also work there for over 150 years. She was so humiliated.

Maria shoved her back to her room. In silence, she put cooling cream over Ashe’s forearms and carefully dyed her hair. She gave Ashe a small squeeze when she finished.

“You can take the Lady this evening. Relax until then.”

Ashe couldn’t to anything but thank her.

That evening it was only planned a small dinner. Meaning, the Lady of Autumn needed minimal help. Ashe had combed through her hair and was using her powers to heat up the small iron-stick as the Lady started to speak.

“You’re brave.”

Ashe almost stopped her task in confusion. Did wasn’t unusual for the Lady to come with such compliments, but it felt unnatural.

“Thank you, my lady,” Ashe answered.

She then picked up one section of her hair and wrapped it around the hot iron-stick. She counted to three and let loose the curl. She continued to the next part of hair. Her forearms were still filled with burn marks that were hurting her, but the quicker she finished the Lady’s hair, the quicker she could go back hiding in her room.

“How old are you now Ashe?”

“160 years, my lady.”

The Lady nodded. She seemed in deep thoughts that evening. Ashe felt herself hope that the High Lord hadn’t done anything bad. But at the same time, she knew it was unlikely that he hadn’t.

“Have you thought about marriage? Or been in love?”

The question caught Ashe off guard. It wasn’t often the Lady would ask such personal questions. It happened once in a while.

“No, my lady. I’m afraid been a servant takes up most of my time.”

The Lady nodded once more.

“I really hope you do find love, Ashe.”

Ashe found herself agreeing before she could even think twice.

Love.

They spent the rest of the time in silence. It was first after Ashe had given her curtsey and was on her way out before the Lady spoke once more.

Ashe was so ready to go to bed, so being stopped was kind of annoying. However, she didn’t let her true emotions show.

“Yes, my Lady?”

The Lady had moved over to one of the draws in her room. She opened it and pulled out a small box.

“I want you to take this. It makes the wounds scar less.”

Ashe couldn’t do anything but take the box. As she walked out of the Lady’s cambers, she felt both embarrassed that the Lady had seen her being in such pain, but also happy that she got some help.

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