#and you = talented but me ≠ talented but i did my best

[whorelaud]

nem you fucker did you put drugs in this what the actual fuck i feel like an absolute whore this shit has my knees wobbling im literally going insne fuckck fuck fuck FUCK

i have so much shit to say this is genuinely one the best things ive ever read and its my second fav piece (after milf reader duh 😜) of yours lordd!! such a talented girl the way you included all the goodies oooh dad!rafe hes such a girl's dad idc this was written to perfection im nauseous i will be rereading this and crying to you about it in your dms i MEAN it like what rhe hell PLS I NEED PPL TO READ THIS ILL CRY 😭😭😭😭😭😭 nem... the fluff... the teasing... how toxic he is... dare i say hes my man oh god sorry ill shut up anyways!! thank you for blessing me with this gen felt like the BIGGEST reward after such a long day 🩷🩷💕💘💓💝 everyone say thank yiu nem for blessing our eyes and brains

even when he was not at home, it was always with the toys he gave her that she played, the dresses he gave her that she wore, the hairstyles that he validated by facetime that she asked you to make, the meals he delivered that she wanted to eat. she was truly daddy’s girl. even in her facial features.

bye id be so bitter if that was me sorry we are competing over our daughters love IDC (jp ahahshs)

you didn't need to work. you had access to all his cards. at first you spent tons of money on unnecessary expenses hoping it would drive him crazy but the next day you saw that even more money had been added to the bank account.

a MAN.... i need him to dive in my ocean shitttt thats so hot

but rafe cameron didn't give you access to his banking data out of pure kindness and affection alone.

Oh.

“don't want to see me, but you dress yourself like you want me to give you a second baby ;) ”

I FUCKING SWUEAKING THATS SO HOT NEM OMG WHAT ARE YIU DOING TO ME

bear my children pls oh HUSBAND 😩

but that didn’t stop him from smiling at you, the insatiable white colgate smile. his clean and fresh mullet was long enough that hair brushed the back of his neck. he was wearing one of his perfect black suits with the sleeves rolled up to show a glimpse of his nice shirt. a Rolex was tight around his veiny wrist, and the same rings he always wore were wrapped around his fingers.

im crying hes so cocky it makes me wanna 😊😊 🖕🏼😭🩷💕❤️💕💗❤️💕❤️❤️💕❤️❤️ ahahaha haahaha AHAHAH im losing it i swear i think i just found my fav rafe...,

“that's my little girl.” he welcomed her with a kiss on the cheek, making her chuckle.

move its my turn

"We should ask every part of your body if they're okay with this. Maybe it would put you back into your place to feel betrayed by your own self. "

shut up omfg im not okay

"Mine , baby. you mean, my bills. these are my cards that you use for your pleasures so I have the right to have an eye on them. even more so when I receive bills for sex toys. you should call me instead of handling it? yourself.”

IM FRAMING THIS AND PUTTING IT ON MY WALL OH YKGOD THIS WHOLE FUCJING PARA IS PERFECT LEGIT TWEKINF OUT RN

jesus, you knew how to provoke him and it worked. he had sniffed the air loudly, trying to contain himself because honestly, he only wanted one thing at the moment, a strong urge that was to fuck you dirty on that counter until he was sure to see your hole tearing to death and dripping to get his cock in. jesus, yeah, he would give anything to see you grimace because it will never fit in but prove you wrong by giving you a second baby.

WHAT IS HAPPENING TO MEEEE OMFG THIS IS CRAZY 😭😭😭😭🤕🤕🤕🤕

sorry for the long review sigh... i couldnt help myself omff

sweet babyface // toxic!bbydaddy!rafe x reader

summary ; rafe was decided to make your little one, a kook princess. and if it means to spend a million of dollars on a diamond swarovski tiara just to see it on the head of his daughter, you can be sure he's gonna do it.

warnings ; basically fluff but i would add +18 bc of a little bit of suggestive content but not real smut. mention of breeding kink. kind of toxic relationship. a bit of stalking. financial dependence. be aware of the warnings.

author's note ; i just wanted to mention @princessbrunette for the bbydaddy!rafe verse. you can check it on her account <3

even if you tried every time to keep him away, push him away, avoid him or chase him, rafe always came back. you could be cold, distant, suspicious and even cruel, he didn't care. by the way, he was better than you at that game anyway? it wasn’t for nothing that you always lost trying to fight him. he was winning while you were just exhausting yourself out. sometimes you wonder why you let him into your life, why you thought it would be a good idea to have a baby with him when everyone on the island told you he was unstable and uncontrollable. some even laughed at your situation, saying it was like giving something to the devil and hoping he doesn't use it against you.

you couldn't say rafe was a bad father. your daughter had always been outrageously spoiled. he always gave her the biggest and greatest gifts. nothing was ever good enough for his princess. he always thought big when it came to his baby. even if you were a pogue, he wanted to raise her as a fucking kook.

and sometimes you wondered if he did all this out of pure fatherly love or out of narcissism or ego.even if you hated him so much, he absolutely needed to make sure your child was on his side. every time he was there, it was like you no longer existed. the house was full of "dad," "daddy, “ or “ papa, " and babbling and laughing. it was always his name, she never called you. and you always felt a pang in your heart every time he grabbed her in his big veiny arms, making her the happiest little girl before taking her away from you to go on some weekly trips.

even when he was not at home, it was always with the toys he gave her that she played, the dresses he gave her that she wore, the hairstyles that he validated by facetime that she asked you to make, the meals he delivered that she wanted to eat. she was truly daddy’s girl. even in her facial features.

so no matter how much you tried to ignore him, he was still there somehow . through the demands of your daughter, the hundreds of deliveries a day to your door, the objects in this house and even its walls because he was obviously the one who paid for it.

you didn't need to work. you had access to all his cards. at first you spent tons of money on unnecessary expenses hoping it would drive him crazy but the next day you saw that even more money had been added to the bank account.

but rafe cameron didn't give you access to his banking data out of pure kindness and affection alone. he was also looking for a way to control you, and stay in your life. then, with that, he could also stalk you and do inappropriate things like when you bought lingerie and he received the bill. he couldn't stop himself from sending you a message. “don't want to see me, but you dress yourself like you want me to give you a second baby ;) ”

the only rule was that you were forbidden from going to see another man and even less from inviting him to the house. he manipulated you by saying it was for your daughter's mental balance but it was purely out of jealousy. and you knew it very well. you weren't the stupid naive girl he had gaslighted in the past and who he could lie to so easily anymore.

one day, you were giving your kid the extremely expensive cupcakes rafe had bought for her breakfast, trying not to comment on the ridiculousness of the prices but especially the situation, and there was a knock at the door. when you saw through the blinder that it was him, you stepped back discreetly, swallowing hard to not clench. your heart was beating fast in your ribcage as you were trying to silence your stepfoots.

“I know you're here.” you had heard his loud firm raspy voice through the door. “baby, i can hear you breathing and backing up from here. come on, i thought we both get over the time i scared you. ”

he continued to knock on the door until your old neighbor called you claiming that a crazy madman was in front of your house and didn't want to leave.

you had been forced to open up to him which made you even angrier.

but that didn’t stop him from smiling at you, the insatiable white colgate smile. his clean and fresh mullet was long enough that hair brushed the back of his neck. he was wearing one of his perfect black suits with the sleeves rolled up to show a glimpse of his nice shirt. a Rolex was tight around his veiny wrist, and the same rings he always wore were wrapped around his fingers.

he had his ear pierced recently with your daughter. you had been against it, but she still wanted to do like her father so you had no authority over the sweet monster. but you had to admit that the jewelry suited them both so well. especially on rafe, you couldn't help but think about kissing his ear, but especially biting his earlobe while caressing the silver piercing until it's wet and rolling against your tongue. all this perhaps while thinking of having a baby again.

“I should be allowed to come here whenever I want. " he had sworn under his breath, staring at you with his evil blue eyes.

“tell me what you have to say or I’ll call the police.” you replied shortly.

"I want to see my girl. I mean, the one who likes to call me daddy. "

“It’s not funny and she doesn’t want to…”

you hadn't had time to finish speaking before your babyface's little footsteps were running on the floor to come into the hall.

“daddy! " she exclaimed before being carried off the ground to snuggle into her father's strong arms, her little frame being hidden by the size of his biceps.

“that's my little girl.” he welcomed her with a kiss on the cheek, making her chuckle.

"I missed you! please, stay !" your kid had asked with bubbly face and pleading eyes, her childish pout so irresistible to say no.

“of course, I’m staying.”

“raf…” you started but he ignored you, walking in the house without your permission into the living room.

“I have something for you, peaches. ”

he took a present out of his bag and you rolled your eyes. you already knew it was going to be something crazy like the giant dollhouse he built in her bedroom, or the huge dinette in the playroom, or a scary tall comfort teddy bear that she couldn't even carry in her tiny hands. sometimes you wondered what he could offer to her because she already had everything. he had literally built her a heaven.

your daughter's eyes widened in surprise, while a smile floated across her lips in excitement. she opened the gift and took out a silver tiara set with diamonds and stunning crystals signed by Swarovski.

“she’s a baby, rafe…” you commented.

"no, she's a princess. " he corrected you and fixed your little one's hair before putting the tiara on her head, and placing a smack on her forehead. “ don't you see that kook babyface ? ”

she giggled before wrapping her hands around his neck to thank him.

“we need to talk.” you said.

"later. i have a princess to honor for now."

you wanted to fight back and kill him but you couldn't resist your daughter's face. she was happy to be with her father. and you knew it was important for girls to establish a strong bond with their father. and there was this bright spark that shone in her eyes every time she saw him that made you melt.

so you let him stay at home. he stayed with her all day. she managed to make him do whatever she wanted, and that's how he found himself playing with dolls, watching the princess and the frog, doing karaoke to barbie songs, serving as a client for a makeup session, and judging all of her princess dresses while she was making him a haul.

No matter how angry you were that he showed up like that and decided to stay, you couldn't deny the fact that he was damn good, that in the moment, you couldn't find any reason not to like him, even when he caught you spying on them and sent you a smirk to remember that you had no control.

you had decided to do some cleaning, to leave them both for a bit until the end of the day. after a long moment, rafe decided to leave her alone for a bit.

you were downstairs, and you were making food. he raised an eyebrow when he saw you. “don’t forget me.”

“no I’m sorry, I’m cooking for two and you’re not included in it.”

“I was included in this pussy to make you a baby so you can include me in this meal for one night, baby. ‘s nothing. ” he shouted back, chewing some gum arrogantly.

“don’t be trashy.”

"you used to like this..." he carefully said, because he knew he was treading on sensitive ground.

he stood in front of you, picking a taste of the ranch sauce from the bowl before putting it in his mouth. you watched him do it, glaring at the smile on his so fucking evil lickable lips.

“ taste's good. ”

“I want you to leave. “

"We should ask every part of your body if they're okay with this. Maybe it would put you back into your place to feel betrayed by your own self. "

“You’re not good for her.” you confessed.

“I am her father. And from what i know, she's very happy with me. You're the one to have a problem with my presence here. ”

"Please, leave the house. I don't want to call the police."

“exactly, baby.” he moved to stand behind you, rearranging a strand of your hair, his breath hot on the back of your neck. “you don’t want to do it. And you're not forced to do it…” he caressed your hand, slowly putting the knife away from your fingers.

“Step back.”

"I want to stay here tonight. Just this night. She really wants me to stay and would it be cruel to make her sad? You don't want to be the villain, right ? "

“don’t try to manipulate me.”

" mmh, just telling the truth and it makes you mad. you can hate me if you want but she needs me. i'm her dad and you know if I wanted to, I could make her come with me but I love seeing you together. you're a great mom.”

"you will sleep on the couch. and that is non-negotiable. you don't try anything with me, is that okay?"

“Come on, we can sleep together. We are mature and consenting adults.” he replied. "There's nothing I haven't seen before, baby. I know all that lingerie as well as that body hidden behind it."

“about that, stop stalking my bills.”

"Mine , baby. you mean, my bills. these are my cards that you use for your pleasures so I have the right to have an eye on them. even more so when I receive bills for sex toys. you should call me instead of handling it? yourself.”

"After trying them, I'm not sure that you're big enough now. “

jesus, you knew how to provoke him and it worked. he had sniffed the air loudly, trying to contain himself because honestly, he only wanted one thing at the moment, a strong urge that was to fuck you dirty on that counter until he was sure to see your hole tearing to death and dripping to get his cock in. jesus, yeah, he would give anything to see you grimace because it will never fit in but prove you wrong by giving you a second baby.

his jaw was tense and his nostrils were flared. he was forced to clench his fist to avoid touching you. " the day when your babygirl will want a little sister or brother, you better be begging on all fours on my fucking doorstep to convince me to give you another baby. so better to start now and stretch that hole very hard before it's happening because i'm gonna make sure to be breeding you enough to change your whole dna. ”

“ aren't you tired of thr…”

“mom, dad, what are you talking about?” the little girl burst into the kitchen, still with her tiara on her head. a smile appeared when she saw that her dad was still there. because it was rare for him to stay that late.

you warned rafe with your eyes, slashing violently at pieces of vegetables with the knife back in your hand.

“ we were thinking that i could stay tonight. what's your thoughts on this, little one ? want daddy to stay ? ”

“ yes ! i don't want you to leave. stay foreveeeer with me. ”

“ but you know, he can't. he's a businessman. ” you replied.

“ what do you mean, baby ? my only business is right here. ”

” Rafe. ” you said.

“ Baby ? ” he replied with a cocky smile. “ Why don't you tell us what you're cooking ? Seems delicious. Maybe we could get a taste. ”

“ Sweetie, can you go to your room for a second ? I need to talk with your dad. It's not gonna be long. ”

She pouted but agreed after Rafe promised her something if she was listening to her mom.

“you know you can’t stay. "

"All I know is that there is my name in the papers of this house, on your bills, and even on your documents. If I can't stay, you can't escape. So what's better ? ”

[voxina]

JADE has recalled her stint on The X Factor, saying she didn’t know anyone who came away from the show without “some sort of mental health issue”.

The singer-songwriter featured on the talent search programme in 2011 and joined girl group Little Mix when she was 18 years old, an experience she has reflected on in a new interview with The Independent.

The ‘Angel Of My Dreams’ singer admitted that being on The X Factor involved adjusting to “pretty fucked up” things, namely sharing bunk beds with other female contestants, regardless of age.

“Even at 18, I knew there were people who weren’t mentally well in there, keeping everyone up at night,” she said. “I don’t know if there was even security outside the house. It’s scary to think about now, but I was too young to realise that at the time.”

Her comments come after many entertainment world figures have demanded more protections be put in place for young artists following the death of One Direction star Liam Payne, who auditioned for The X Factor during the same series as Thirlwall.

Although she didn’t address Payne’s passing directly, she did mention thinking the series “had to end” after its 2018 conclusion.

“I don’t think that kind of show can exist any more. We’re in a different place now,” she added. “We wouldn’t put someone that’s mentally unwell on a TV screen and laugh at them while they sing terribly. The concept of a joke act on a show is just cruel.”

She said the concept was “all very Roman empire” while joking that it was the “best training ever” for her to enter the music industry. On a more sombre note, she continued: “I don’t know anyone that’s come off that show and not had some sort of mental health issue on the back of it.”

Thirwall also admitted to feeling “conflicted” about criticising the show. “It changed my life,” she explained. “I was from a very normal working-class family up north, I had tried sending demos in to labels, I’d gigged all over, I was doing everything I could to make it, and I needed a show like that to give me a chance.”

She continued to say that she’d guess “five per cent of the people that went on there have come out of it not unscathed, but having survived; the other 95 per cent have suffered in silence.”

Reflecting on how people readjust to normal life after participating in something like The X Factor, she said: “How do you go from being on that show to back to your nine-to-five? How do you get signed to the label, think you’ve made it, and then once your song doesn’t hit the Top 10, you’re just dropped? It’s so savage, this machine that we’re a part of. Even back then, we knew how lucky we were every day that we were still signed.”

[Full article]

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° every move is magic

♡ a/n — this is probably one of the longest things i've written lol. it's only bc it's yuki i swear.

♡ word count — 2.3k

♡ content — yukimiya kenyu x fem! reader, fem! reader, model! reader, childhood best friends, friends to lovers, mutual pining, goes from like kindergarten all the way to the u-20 game, mentions of yuki modeling, decided reader needed to be a model too, reader is shy and reserved as a kid, i made yukimiya one of those gremlin kids

♡ synopsis — Even if the world could never keep up with Yukimiya Kenyu, you’d always be grateful that he’d chosen to stay by your side.

The first time you met Yukimiya Kenyu, you were sitting on the edge of the playground, quietly watching the other kids play. You didn’t join them—not because you didn’t want to, but because you couldn’t figure out how. It was easier to sit by yourself, even if it meant being lonely.

Then he appeared, a blur of energy and determination. While the other kids were too slow to keep up with him, Yukimiya’s restless nature had finally found something that caught his attention: you.

“Why aren’t you playing?” he asked, tilting his head as if the idea was incomprehensible.

You shrugged, unsure what to say other than, “I don’t know how to play the games they’re playing.”

He blinked at you, his head tilting like he was trying to figure you out. “That’s dumb.”

Your eyes widened at his bluntness, and he quickly added, “Not you! The games. They’re boring. Wanna play something else?”

“What?”

“I don’t know. Something fun,” he said with a grin. “We’ll figure it out.”

He didn’t wait for you to answer, instead grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the sandbox. From then on, he never left your side. While he was still a whirlwind of energy, he always made sure to include you, even if it meant slowing down.

“You’re my best friend now, okay?” he declared one afternoon after you’d spent hours building an intricate sandcastle together.

“Okay,” you agreed, a shy smile tugging at your lips.

From that moment on, Yukimiya became your shadow, and you became his anchor. While he zoomed around the playground like a whirlwind, he always circled back to you. And when you sat quietly coloring, he sat next to you, fidgeting but staying put.

He slowed down for you.

Yukimiya’s talent for soccer became apparent early on. By the time you reached the third grade, he was already being called a prodigy. Coaches marveled at his footwork, his speed, his ability to outplay anyone who dared to challenge him.

You watched every game from the sidelines, cheering louder than anyone else. He always made sure to find you in the crowd afterward, his grin wide as he asked, “Did you see that? Did you see how I scored?”

“You were amazing, Yuki,” you’d say every time, and he’d beam like your words mattered more than anyone else’s.

But as his talent grew, your insecurities began to as well. You weren’t particularly athletic, or artistic, or academically gifted. While Yukimiya excelled at everything he tried, you felt like you were just… there.

You were proud of him, of course, but a small part of you always felt like you were standing in his shadow. Everyone noticed him. Everyone praised him. Meanwhile, you were… you.

“You’re thinking too hard again,” Yukimiya said one day, lying flat on the grass beside you after practice. His bangs stuck to his forehead, sweat glistening under the sun. “What is it?”

Your mother had always said that Yukimiya had "great emotional intelligence" for a 3rd grader.

You didn't know what that meant, but you thought so too.

You hesitated before mumbling, “I don’t think I’ll ever be as good at something as you are at soccer.”

He propped himself up on one elbow, frowning. “That’s stupid. You're good at being my best friend." The way he said it, with so much conviction would've made you laugh if his face didn't look so serious.

"You don’t have to be ‘good’ at anything for me to like having you around.” He mumbled, just a quick little add on.

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache in a way you didn’t understand.

By the time you both entered middle school, Yukimiya’s popularity had skyrocketed. Girls giggled and blushed whenever he walked by, and boys challenged him to soccer matches, hoping to prove themselves.

At first, it didn’t bother you. Yukimiya was still the same boy who ran to your side after every game, who walked you home even when he was exhausted, who always made time for you no matter how busy he was.

But then the love letters started.

“Another one?” you asked one afternoon as he stuffed a folded note into his bag.

“Yeah,” he said nonchalantly, not even bothering to read it.

“Don’t you care what they say?”

“Not really.”

You frowned, not understanding how he could be so unaffected. “What if it’s someone you like?”

“Nah. I don’t feel that way about anyone.” He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “Besides, why would I need another girl when I already have you?”

The casual way he said it made your heart skip a beat, but you brushed it off as a joke. He couldn’t possibly mean it… could he?

No. You were best friends, he just didn't need another girl in his life right now. You were only in middle school, dating was the last of your worries.

But what would happen when a girl he did like gave him a letter? What would happen to you?

Your friendship with Yukimiya had always been effortless. He was the first person you turned to for help with anything—homework, outfit choices, or just figuring out life’s little mysteries. And he was the same with you.

You’d spent countless afternoons in his room, sprawled out on his bed while he juggled a soccer ball, the steady rhythm of it hitting the wall almost comforting.

This time was no different. You’d come over for a “study session,” but neither of you had cracked open a textbook. Yukimiya was sitting on the floor, bouncing the ball off the wall with practiced ease, while you lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Yuki,” you said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Yeah?” he replied, not looking up from his game.

“Do you think we stop each other from learning?”

The ball thudded against the wall again before he caught it, turning to look at you with a confused smile. “What do you mean? You’re here for a study session, silly.”

“No, not that,” you said, sitting up and hugging your knees to your chest. “I mean… learning how to kiss someone. Or how to go on dates. Stuff like that.”

His smile faltered, and he stared at you, the soccer ball forgotten in his hands. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice soft. “It’s just… we’re always together. And I love that, I do. But what if we’re keeping each other from… I don’t know, growing up or something?”

Yukimiya’s brows furrowed as he thought about your words. He stood, tossing the ball onto his desk and sitting beside you on the bed. “So… you want to learn how to kiss someone?”

“I guess,” you said, feeling your face heat up. “Don’t you?”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to his hands. “I’ve thought about it,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’ve never… y’know…”

You nodded, the awkward silence stretching between you. And then, to your surprise, Yukimiya looked up at you with a small, nervous smile.

“Maybe… we could help each other,” he suggested, his voice trembling slightly.

Your breath caught in your throat. “You mean…”

“We’re best friends, right?” he said quickly, as if trying to convince himself as much as you. “It’s not weird if it’s just to… learn. Right?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. But the way he looked at you—hopeful, nervous, and maybe a little excited—made you nod. “Okay,” you whispered.

His hand reached for yours, his palm warm and slightly clammy, if he was any other guy, you'd have been grossed out. But he was Yuki, your Yuki, nothing about him was gross.

He leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away. But you didn’t. When his lips finally pressed against yours, it was soft and tentative, like he was afraid of doing it wrong.

It didn’t take long for the awkwardness to melt away. What started as a simple kiss turned into something deeper, something neither of you had planned.

His hands found your waist, yours tangled in his hair, and before you knew it, the lines between friendship and something more had blurred entirely.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your cheeks flushed. Yukimiya looked at you with wide eyes, his glasses slightly fogged, his lips parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“Did we just…” you began, trailing off.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice barely audible.

Neither of you knew what to say after that, so you didn’t say anything at all. Instead, you lay back on his bed, your hands still intertwined as the silence settled over you like a blanket.

Both you and Yukimiya were scouted for modeling—him for his sharp, athletic looks, and you for your natural, understated charm. And maybe because Yukimiya dragged you to every meeting because he "couldn't do it alone."

He could, by the way, but he didn't want to be without you longer than neccessary.

But you were always so thankful to him, the industry was intimidating, but having him by your side made it bearable.

“You’ve got crumbs,” Yukimiya teased one morning during a shoot, brushing powdered sugar off your cheek from the donut you’d been eating.

“You’re one to talk,” you shot back, wiping coffee foam from his lip. Lips you'd kissed far too often to be considered 'just friends' anymore...but all you were doing was helping each other release energy.

It was Yuki, your Yuki, nothing was weird whenever you were with him.

The photographer snapped a picture of you two mid-laugh, and it became one of your favorite memories—a candid moment that felt more real than anything else.

When Yukimiya was invited to Blue Lock, you encouraged him to go, even though the thought of being apart made your chest ache.

“Don’t forget about me,” you joked, forcing a smile as you handed him his bus ticket.

“Never,” he promised, his voice low and serious.

You couldn't put a finger on why your heart was screaming at you to make him stay when he leaned down to give you one last kiss while your parents backs were turned.

If this wasn't his dream, maybe you would have.

Leaving for Blue Lock was the hardest decision Yukimiya ever made. He hated the thought of being away from you, but he knew he had to take the chance if he wanted to achieve his dream.

He worked tirelessly, determined to prove himself and earn his way back to the real world—not for glory, but so he could call you.

The day he scored enough goals to get his phone back, the first thing he did was call you.

“Yuki?” Your voice on the other end of the line made his heart ache with relief.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you admitted, your voice thick with emotion.

His teammates teased him mercilessly when they saw his lock screen: a picture of the two of you in matching robes, laughing over coffee and donuts.

“Who’s that?” Karasu asked, leaning over his shoulder.

“My best friend,” Yukimiya replied, his tone too soft for the teasing that followed.

“Just a ‘best friend,’ huh?” Karasu smirked. “Sure doesn’t look that way to me.”

He ignored the crow-like boy the rest of the night, but the truth was, Karasu was right. You weren’t just his best friend. You were his everything.

The roar of the crowd still echoed in the stadium as Yukimiya scanned the field, his gaze darting between his teammates and the celebrating fans. But then he spotted you. Standing at the edge of the field, looking up at him with that same smile he’d seen a thousand times before—on playgrounds, in his room, and through the screen of his phone.

Without a second thought, he ran to you, dodging past reporters and teammates. Before you could say a word, he wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the ground and spinning you in a circle. The world blurred around you, and all you could focus on was the way his laughter vibrated against your chest and the warmth of his embrace.

When he set you down, you barely had time to catch your breath before he cupped your face in his hands, his forehead resting against yours. “I think…” he began, his voice trembling. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could respond, his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft and sure, as if he’d been waiting his entire life to do this. The noise of the stadium faded away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

“Oh, is this the best friend?” Otoya's voice cut through the moment, and you pulled away, cheeks burning as you turned to see him smirking, Karasu snickering beside him.

“ ‘Best friend’ my ass,” Karasu added, crossing his arms and shaking his head in mock disappointment.

Yukimiya’s ears turned bright red, but he didn’t let go of you. Instead, he shot Karasu a glare before looking back at you, his gaze softening. “They can say whatever they want,” he murmured, his voice just loud enough for you to hear before he leaned down one more time to kiss you again.

You couldn’t help but think back to when you were kids, when Yukimiya’s speed and energy left everyone else in the dust. You’d always been the shy one, the one who struggled to keep up. But Yukimiya had never minded.

He’d slowed down for you, waited for you, and in doing so, made you feel like you were the only one who could ever truly match him. And now, standing here in his arms, you realized that he’d never stopped waiting.

Even if the world could never keep up with Yukimiya Kenyu, you’d always be grateful that he’d chosen to stay by your side.

yeah i chose yuki for this bc im bias, so what ?

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[writhyv]

⋆｡°✩ your idol wants to see you again

I-800-LOVE-YOU | nishimura riki x male!reader

pairing: niki x male!reader

genre: fluff!

word count: 2.3k

notes: nothing much! hope you enjoy these povs that really frame 'your' character's feelings towards ni-ki hehe

Why does it seem so unreal talking to him? Is it really worth the risk?

Your best friend burst into your bedroom, her infectious grin lighting up the space as she flopped down onto your soft bed without a hint of hesitation.

“Any scoop on the troupe? And by that I mean the dance troupe. And by that I mean the dancer. And by that I mean Ni-ki. And by that I mean—”

“Yah! You can’t just enter a man’s bedroom!” You exclaimed, flinching at her sudden leap across the room.

“A man?!” she shot back playfully, her eyes sparkling. “You’re not just any man, you’re THE man!”

With an exaggerated roll of your eyes, you settled back onto your warm mattress, attempting to tame your disheveled hair, which had been ruffled by her enthusiastic entrance.

“And why is that?” you challenged, trying to keep your composure. “I could do anything to you.”

“Well, don’t do it to me!” she laughed, shoving you playfully. “Do it to Ni-ki!” She squealed as she grabbed pillows, playfully smothering your face with them.

“Hey, hey!” you protested, struggling to push her away. “You heard me through the walls, didn’t you?!”

“What? Am I not allowed to listen in on my own house?” She batted her eyelashes innocently. “You’re lucky I’m shipping you two!”

Groaning, you leaned back on the bed. “Listen, I really don’t understand it.” You sighed heavily, the weight of the conversation settling in. “I don’t think it’s that serious.”

She turned her body toward you, her brow arched in disbelief. “You best believe it is.”

“It’s not,” you insisted, shaking your head. “He’s an idol. Plus, he’s too young AND too famous.”

Your best friend let out a melodious chuckle, shaking her head in amusement.

“What?” you retorted, feeling defensive.

“You’re only three years older, okay?” she pointed out, her voice teasing. “And for the popularity problem, I don’t think he cares anyway.”

“He’s an idol,” you replied, looking away, the weight of your words hanging in the air. “He should.”

She moved closer, resting her head on your shoulder, her voice softening. “Just test the waters. I’m sure he’s just looking for someone, and he found you at the right moment.”

Your mind wandered back to the memory of Ni-ki holding your hands tightly, and a flutter of hope stirred within you.

“Hahh... You’re right,” you finally admitted, turning to face your friend. “He did say he wants to be friends. To be closer... more accurately.”

“See?” she grinned, her enthusiasm infectious.

“I think I can try being friends,” you said, a small smile creeping onto your face. “Nothing wrong with having a friend.”

“Exactly!” Your best friend cheered, raising her fists in triumph. “Then eventually you da—”

“Eventually he comes to a decision to stop it because I’ll be a liability to him,” you cut her off, the weight of your insecurities surfacing.

Her expression shifted, and she playfully punched your shoulder. “Don’t be such a spoiler! Rah!”

You rolled your eyes again, contemplating whether your words truly reflected the feelings swirling inside you.

Of course, you wanted a new friend. Of course, you wanted that friend to be eager to be friends with you. Of course, you’d love to spend time with someone charismatic and talented—it just happened to be that he was also a famous idol. But doubt lingered in your heart—did you truly deserve this happiness? Would it last? And what if you ruined his career, his dreams, his life? The thought sent a chill down your spine.

“God, that’s a lot of things in your head. What a mess,” you thought, feeling overwhelmed.

“I can see all the mumbling speech bubbles in the air right now,” your best friend chuckled, inching closer. “It’s not that insane, right? Just be friends with him.”

You looked at her, uncertainty etched on your face. “But what if I—”

“Just see what happens,” she urged, her eyes earnest. “If it isn’t really working, you can be honest.”

Taking a deep breath, you gazed at your hands, closing them tightly as if to gather the courage within you.

“I can do that,” you sighed, feeling a flicker of determination.

Your best friend wrapped you in a warm embrace, her genuine warmth easing the tension in your chest. “And don’t forget about me. I’m here too.”

“Mhm,” you replied softly, grateful for her support.

A good few days had passed, and a whirlwind of events had unfolded.

You started your first class right after the fan meet, brimming with joy as you taught a group of bright and eager students. They were a delight to be around, and the administration took notice, appreciating your efforts and offering various roles that came with incentives. Smiling at the opportunities that lay ahead, you signed up for most of them and dedicated yourself diligently to your work.

Meanwhile, your friendship with Ni-ki blossomed. He couldn’t wait another day and called you daily, sharing snippets of his life. He recounted how he spent his resting hours lounging in his room, playing games with his bandmates, and practicing choreography for their upcoming promotions. The two of you were growing closer, and you often found yourself wondering when you would see each other in person again.

“Well, Ni-ki does,” Jungwon said from the front seat of the van, breaking the silence that had settled after a tiring shoot for SBS Inkigayo.

The gentle rumbling of the engine accompanied the sounds of exhaustion radiating from the other members. Half the boys had already succumbed to fatigue, using pillows, eye covers, or handkerchiefs to shield their eyes from the light.

“Yeah, but—” Heeseung turned around in his seat, raising a brow. “Isn’t it already afternoon? Are there still classes this late in the day?”

“Good point,” Sunoo pouted, contemplating. “Maybe their school is a bit different? It is Seoul, after all.”

Unbothered, Ni-ki bit his lip, lost in thought as he envisioned seeing you again. His heart raced at the prospect. Moving his legs quickly, he could almost picture seeing your golden smile. Yeah, that's what he's calling it.

"Hey, stop that." Jake muttered as he lifted the eye cover from his face.

Ni-ki acted as if he couldn't hear Jake's plea. The older rolled his eyes and forced an arm to stop the younger's leg.

"No! I swear to god-"

"Oh, he's awake!" Jungwon looked over to the back, where Ni-ki and Jake sat together. Seems like Jake had been napping for quite a while.

"Ugh, yeah." Jake fixed bits of his hair to the side, revealing his sleepy set of eyes wondering around the van. "This guy ruined it with his leg yapping. What's up?"

"Is it fine if we drop Ni-ki at Yanghoon State?" Jungwon asked as he held his phone. For reference, you shared the location of your school to Ni-ki. Of course, Ni-ki could only keep that information to himself for a while, before Jake swatted his phone and sent the pinned location to their group chat.

"Oh? Yeah." Jake moved an inch closer towards the other boys. "We'll just have to keep an eye when PD-nim needs us for backup or anything."

Jake looked at Ni-ki with a sharp edged look. "You better be proper. You're missing our bro night for this."

"You're not the leader." Ni-ki grinned.

"Hey! I'm still older!" Jake jabbed Ni-ki's shoulder.

The manager raised his hand in acknowledgment. Ni-ki’s eagerness to see you excited the whole group, even the higher-ups, despite the risks involved.

“Do we still need the rental car?” Ni-ki asked, scratching his head. “Can’t we just use this van?”

Heeseung sighed, chuckling. “Bro, you already made such a big fuss in the company. Just bear with the car.”

Ni-ki swiped his hair to the side in mock frustration, realizing that his plan to impress you with the company van had come to a halt.

“He’ll love you driving a Civic,” Jake teased.

“Hyung, I can’t drive,” Ni-ki replied, exasperated.

“Oof, I feel like you’re getting UN-cooler by the minute.”

“Aish!” Ni-ki shoved Jake away playfully.

“Who’s the girl anyway?” the manager asked, curiosity piqued.

Everyone’s heads turned toward Ni-ki, who suddenly wore a serious expression. “It’s a he, okay?” he stated, emphasizing the words.

Jungwon tapped Ni-ki’s leg, smiling reassuringly. “Hey, it’s cool. He just asked.”

“Oh? Who’s the guy? I’ve only ever heard your bandmates talk about his school,” the manager said innocently, eliciting a glare from Ni-ki.

“A cool teacher he met!” Sunoo chimed in, raising his hand enthusiastically. “Ni-ki just wanted to see where he worked.”

“Must be a close friend,” the manager remarked, his grin widening. “We’re here, by the way.”

Ni-ki beamed at the news while his bandmates quietly cheered him on. As he stepped out of the van, he couldn’t shake the image of your smile from his mind.

God, he’ll be so happy, Ni-ki thought, a wave of anticipation washing over him.

“Caps! Shades! Mask!” the manager commanded, snapping Ni-ki back to reality.

“Oh, right.” Ni-ki quickly grabbed his disguise—shades and a mask—to shield himself from the public eye. After all, he was a famous idol.

Moments later, he waved goodbye to his bandmates, who drove away swiftly with their other manager.

“I’m going to find the car we rented. Should be around here somewhere. I’ve got the keys, so you just stay here,” the manager instructed firmly.

"Got it." Ni-ki nodded. As he watched the manager leave, Ni-ki couldn't stand still at his current position. His feet jerked way too many times as he anxiously waited for the car.

Today, he only planned to get a glimpse of you. But it would be much better if he gets to interact with you ... and see your smile yet again. Ni-ki vould only blush and look down on his feet as he thought of it.

To his surprise, Ni-ki turned his head as he heard the school chimes. It wasn't a big school, but it surely looked prestigious. The design of the school was an older Neoclassical style, with a large bell tower that survived wars since its been built.

Of course, Ni-ki couldn't have ever known these facts if he wasn't intent on listening to every detail you shared with him. During your calls, he can only memorize all the things you've said to him. That's how you've been occupying his mind. Just a total overload of your voice fills his heart with bliss and warmth. Totally whipped as one would say.

In no time, students of all ages began to pour out of the gates—young kids chattering with friends, slightly older students engaged in lively conversations, and older students lounging around, soaking in the afternoon sun.

Ni-ki reminisced the times when he went to school too. Seeing all the kids there reminded him of his young social life, where he would often participate in events and talk to many people, whether they were his own age or not.

This made Ni-ki smile, remembering how fun it was when he wasn't such a busy idol.

But you know who made him smile even bigger? The sight of you, conversing with your co-teachers as you got out of the school doors. You wore a nice set of casual slacks that complemented your figure, and you had a comfy and fuzzy turtleneck that covered your otherwise impressive frame. To him, it looked like you were covered in marshmallows.

As you gazed around the school yard, you waved goodbye to your students. It was fun seeing them so involved in your class, and you couldn't be happier seeing them interact so happily with their other peers. It fulfills you, as you exhibit the life of an educator. Even though you still had so much you can dream, but can't even think of how it'll work out.

As you thread on the concrete path you stepped on, you thought of wanting to eat something from the local convenience store. A packed burrito? A sliced bread? Or a serving of dumplings? What would best satisfy you as you waited for the bus?

"Aw...” you exclaimed, scratching your head in surprise as you bumped onto a passerby. “Sorry, I—”

“No worries. I did that on purpose,” came the familiar, playful voice.

You looked up, and your heart raced as you met Ni-ki’s gaze, his handsome face adorned with a wide grin.

“Hi,” he beamed, a light of mischief in his eyes.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “You!”

“Yeah, me—”

“Damn you and your face!” You exclaimed, instinctively shoving your hands toward him, playfully pushing him back as he stumbled slightly.

“Are you crazy? There are people around!” you admonished, your arms resting on the wall, effectively cornering him.

“Sorry. I just can’t help myself,” Ni-ki smirked, clearly enjoying the flustered state he had put you in.

“You...,” you started, trying to maintain your composure. “You know you’re famous, right?”

“I don’t really care,” he replied nonchalantly.

“I do!” you shot back, meeting his cheeky gaze. “Are you always this much of a headache to your bandmates?”

Ni-ki raised an eyebrow, mock contemplation on his face. “Hmm, let me see if I’m really that silly.”

“My point is, this is a public place!” you insisted, feeling your cheeks warm.

Ni-ki held your hands gently, grounding you as he leaned in closer. “Sorry. Should’ve told you,” he said, his smile disarming.

“Aish,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I’m just your friend. Is it really worth all this trouble to see me?”

Ni-ki straightened up, his expression turning sincere. “I said I want to be closer.”

You looked away, trying to suppress the fluttering in your heart. “You did.”

“I said I want to see you often.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, feeling vulnerable under his gaze.

“Can’t I make that effort?” Ni-ki’s eyes were unwavering, and you felt your resolve weakening.

You stammered, “I—I mean…”

“I just wanted to see you again. Is that so bad?” he asked, sincerity radiating from his every word.

At that moment, you felt the walls you had built around your heart crumbling. You sighed, knowing you couldn’t resist his charm any longer.

“You look cute,” Ni-ki complimented, his gaze warm and inviting.

You blushed fiercely. “You’re... unbearable.”

Ni-ki chuckled, tightening his grip on your hands. “Then learn to bear with me.”

You looked into his eyes, realizing that perhaps this was the beginning of something beautiful.

“Because I won’t be going anywhere.”

hope you like it HEEHEE

| masterlist! | previous | next |

[the-kr8tor]

BESTIE IS BACK!!! WITH MORE JUICY THOUGHTS!

That definitely won't backfire on them nuh uh

Yep that's the same one!

Lmaooo he's territorial!

Yesss i agree!! I was inspired when they visited and asked for the yearly payment 😭😔

HAHAHAHAHAHHA that dreaded thing 😭

Lmaoo you never know! (For R's sake probably not)

BESTIE!! THAT'S LITERALLY THE EXACT MEME I WAS REFERENCING!!!!!!!

It is blobie! He's a wandering blob here

Lol he was def considering it 😂 hmmm 🤔 yes?

I wonder 🤔💭

Nope! It was some random npc lol but i did consider the guy being peter b but i thought i might need him later on

Yes! Oh so many loud thoughts 😉

Jared and Hobie are a chaotic duo who are slowly turning into best friends

Poor pav 😔 at least R and Hobie will take care of him!

He probably thought that felicia being R's godmother was part of the torture

R is having an internal turmoil! R has found herself a mother of three! 😂😂 Her kia won't fit everyone in there!

Our favourite auntie!

Trueee I'd be sad too if someone insulted my hotdog pillow

It is!!!! You know i had to sneak one in

Lmaoo imagine him saying that with a straight face and going "are you fucking serious rn?" And r is flabbergasted

Someone needs to pay him his salary stat

HAHHAHAHAHHA what I like abt this r is that her and hobie are just going with the flow 😂

A not so secret secret compartment!

Imagine hearing the wails of the undead oof

You got all the references!

It's his talent lmaooo

HHAHAHAHHAHA the real important questions!! They both have ao3 i bet and they both send each other fics they like 🤣

🧐

Lol I really think that he tried to magic it at first 😂 then miles goes "we can just take an uber?" And then pav goes "with a werewolf?!" Then actually tries to drive after watching a youtube tutorial

HAHAHAHA it sorta creeped up on me too while i was writing it!

He's getting on his broom and flying away immediately 😂😆

Oh probably did but acted tough in front miles and gwen

Hehehehehe that was lowkey my favourite part bc it was like an end credit scene that comedy shows have!

In Pursuit of Blood: Attack of the Homeowners Association

Pairing: Vampire! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 14.3k

Synopsis: A surprise visit leads to some unforgettable encounters.

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, vampire AU, established relationship, situationship, set in my IPOB AU (a must read for you to understand this one), Hunter! Reader, Mockumentary AU, WWDITS AU, spider trio appearance, CW food mentions, CW blood, CW injury, TW violence, CW suggestive, Fluff.

A/N: Special thanks to @hyperfix-wip ❤️❤️ come get your food @al1x00 !!! Just a little silly fic that I had so much fun with!

In Pursuit of Blood/Vampire! Hobie Masterlist

Navigation

The camera appears from the corner, filming you leaning on the doorway with a steaming cup of tea, and a thick cardigan pulled around your shoulders. The fabric smells weirdly like the vampire you're currently watching.

You almost jump in place when you finally notice the camera's presence. Rolling your eyes, you point at Hobie who's currently standing motionlessly by the window sill. The heavy curtains are open just enough for him to peek through, moonlight shining through the red velvet, illuminating his silhouette. His thin button up leaves little to the imagination. Lean biceps in full show, back flexing every time he shifts his weight.

“He's been standing there since he woke up.” You whisper to the crew, ��it's the most entertaining thing that has happened here since I moved in six months ago. The drunken incident doesn't count.”

The camera lowers towards the dark cardigan around your body, earning you a disgruntled scoff. “I was cold, it was the nearest thing next to me.”

Hobie inhales sharply, staying still. You purse your lips together at his heavy sigh.

“That's…concerning.” The producer gives you a questioning look. “I'm not concerned about the man eating vampire, okay. I'm worried that he might be hungry again and look who's the nearest blood bag there is, me, bitch. And you too I guess.” You gesture wildly at the crew.

Jared the cameraman side eyes you. “That was a one time thing, Jeff.” You say his name like he's the bane of your existence, knowing that you called him a different name just to annoy him. “‘sides, I'm not his familiar. He can feed himself—”

Hobie releases a gutteral sound from the belly, growling in place.

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” you say under your breath. “I think I should tell him to eat. Be right back.” Walking briskly, the cameras follow you closely. You make it to his side, tapping him on the shoulder with slight apprehension.

His scowl is replaced with a smile when he sees you. Fangs and all. “Darling, you're awake.” He flicks his eyes down to his cardigan, raising a brow at the sight. His grin grows wider, no sign of hunger on sight. Maybe a different kind of hunger that is. “You need anythin'? Me perhaps?” He says unabashedly before he glares at the people trailing behind you. They back away, almost tripping amongst themselves.

“Just wanted to see if you're hungry. You were standing here growling like a fucking hell hound.” You push him away with one finger on his chest. He backs away, but his smile and fond stare remains.

“That's a compliment, love. And I wasn't growlin’.”

“You were.”

“Really? How? Can you show me? I wanna hear it.” He says with a teasing smirk, you almost fall for it.

“You know what? It's too cold for this.” You try to walk away but he yanks you back, twisting you around to look at the window, your back braced atop his chest. “What—? Come on, Hobie!”

“Shush.” He says as he holds you against him.

“Don't shush me!” You wiggle out of his hold. He lets you go but you stay in place after seeing him scowl again.

“There are old people outside. Watching us.” He whispers.

“What? Don't be rude.”

“No, look.” Hobie takes your face in his cold hands, careful not to pierce your cheeks with his sharp nails, sending goosebumps down your arms. He points your face towards the accused. “There, see? Fuckin' Peepers.”

With a roll of your eyes, you peek at the small gap in the curtains. “Huh?” You see a group of old people huddled together on the sidewalk, whispering amongst themselves. “What the fuck? Have they been there long?”

“Maybe, I only noticed after feedin'. Do you think they know?” His hands are still atop your cheeks.

You look up, stuck in place. “They're probably just gossiping. You know how old people are, you're a part of the demographic.”

He lets you go, leaning on the wall casually, arms crossed on his chest. “Basically your type, yeah?”

“Augh,” you resist his awful charms again. “I'm gonna talk to them. Get them out before you decide to eat them.”

“I don't ravage old people!” He yells after you, “I let time do that!” Laughing, he sees the crew staring at him with flat expressions. “What? It's funny.” Waving them off, he goes down the patio to meet with you.

—

You go outside, with Hobie and the documentary crew trailing right behind you, their shoes shuffling quickly to meet up with you.

“Hey!” Waving at the older group, you open the gothic gates, the metal squeaking against its hinges. You take a mental note to get that oiled or it'll irk you. “Do you guys need anything or are you just gonna stand there and block our driveway?” Despite your cheery smile and the lilt in your voice, your words sounded like a threat.

The group looks at the camera crew behind you with puzzled looks before shrugging in understanding. You guess the crew have their permission.

“So sorry, but we're not here to block anything.” An older woman with platinum hair scrunches her wrinkled nose. “We're HOA, and we were actually trying to find your doorbell. Do you even have a doorbell? It's mandatory to have one.” She smiles kindly, but her eyes say otherwise. She reminds you of an entitled Karen you always seem to run into.

“We don't have one. It ruins our aesthetic. Why are you here exactly?” You narrow your gaze at the group who are all staring behind you with wide eyes. Sighing, you place your hand on Hobie's chest to tell him to calm down. You sometimes wish you're the one with telepathy.

“Uh,” the older woman fixes her hair, tucking it behind her ear. Your scowl deepens. “We're here to congratulate you two on your wedding.”

You blink away the glare. “W–Wedding?”

Hobie's breath hitches in his throat, feeling his surprise under your hand. The shock disappears a second later, replaced by a smug grin on his face. “Thank you, love. The ceremony was beautiful.” His arm snakes its way around your waist. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“Oh, I bet! You seem to have good taste, Mr. Brown. Your father and your father's father did!”

Turning your head to look at him, he winks at you, voice wiggling its way into your mind. “She’s talkin' about me don't worry, I just go on vacation for a few years and come back tellin’ people my father died only to ‘replace’ him. People are idiots, lovie.”

You tamp down a laugh by biting your lip, craning your attention back to the group, you smile sweetly at them. “It's too bad that my in-laws didn't get to see us marry.” Hobie gives you a sly high five behind your back. “Well, thank you for the congratulations, but we gotta—”

“Are you two planning on having kids?” Another old woman with a pink sweater asks excitedly. “It would be nice to have kids running around the neighborhood again. Now it's all tiktok and something about toilets.”

Hobie can't help the chuckle that leaves his lips. Your cheeks are aflame from the simple question. But your hunter training blocks the thought, bringing you back to your studies, eyes narrowing at the prospect of half vampire children.

The scene shifts to you back inside the house, sitting on the dining table with you looking awfully serious at the camera.

“Half vampire children.” You say like you're a host of a true crime show, tone serious. You flip the weighty tome in your hand to face the camera. A medieval painting of a baby with fangs is drawn on the page, adorable but deadly. “Some live happy and long lives but for some they don't even make it through birth. I know very sad but it's worse if they turn out like this—”

Turning the page, a macabre drawing of a baby with a half goat body with bat wings for arms and eyes like a cat jumps at the camera. “Sorry, not exactly PG-13.” you say in your normal cadence.

Closing the large book, you decide to spare them the next gory pages. Going back to your narrator voice, you continue. “They say that when a half vampire is born, god tosses a coin. Whichever—”

“Ain't that from Game of Thrones?” Hobie appears from the doorway, smirk on his lips, eyes glinting with mischief.

“What–? No, Shut up! I'm educating the masses!”

He saunters over to the chair, wine red eyes staring at you softly. He sits on the arm of the chair, which you reluctantly scoot over to give him space.

“Educatin’ huh? Have you told them that one branch of the family where your great aunt canoodled with a vampire?” He glances at the cameras.

You look at him with wide eyes. “I'm sorry w-what?”

It's Hobie's turn to look surprised. “Shit– You didn't know?” His voice wavers, “I shouldn't have said that.”

You stare off at the camera, eyes glossy, mouth slightly parted, looking like you're having a crisis.

“I guess that's why they're disowned–”

You suddenly grip his collar, pulling down towards you. “Did you fuck my great aunt, Hobie?!”

“Fuckin' hell!” He yelps, hands curling around your wrists. “No! It wasn't me!”

You glare at him. The stare sends shivers down his spine, and in between his legs.

“Did. You. Fuck. My. Great. Aunt?” You say through gritted teeth,

“No.” Hobie says with his chest. “I haven't sired any children, darling. She’s not even my type!” He tries to lean away but your hold is too strong. Worried that he might accidentally break your wrists. He leans closer to you, forehead placed on top of yours, he felt your fists loosen. Just a tiny bit. “I'm not that vampire, yeah?”

Hissing, cheeks burning, and palms sweaty, you push him away. “I think I need to take a look at the family tree.” You practically jump away from your seat, avoiding his eyes and the cameras.

Hobie sighs, sitting down where you sat. The crew is stunned to see him smile like usual, red eyes brighter than before. “She's jealous.” He laughs, sounding more like a giggle.

With a smooth transition, the scene goes back to the previous conversation with the HOA.

“So sorry for the late intrusion.” The woman says without an ounce of genuine apology. Eyeing her friend after asking that loaded question. The rest of her lackeys nod simultaneously, reminding you of a group of bobbleheads, “but do you have a cat?”

“A cat?” Hobie's hand squeezes your side, urging you to make up a lie on the spot.

Your mind goes back to the blob mess of a cat that keeps wandering in and out of the house. You feed him occasionally, and he seems to like you despite his terrifying look with his milky white eyes and fur that is akin to a slime more than fluff. You've accepted anything is possible in this world, hence why you're not completely puzzled by the alien-like being, who seems to like you most. You suppose that you've seen weirder things in this world.

“No.” You blatantly lie. “We would know, trust me. I mean…” Pointing at the cameras, you shrug. “Impossible to hide a whole cat.”

“Oh, alrighty then. There have been complaints about cat droppings in the area.” They don't seem too convinced. Hobie's ready to hypnotize them despite his own promise to not use it unless in an emergency. But if it involves you, and that you might be in danger of getting kicked out by a bunch of old ladies, then he's ready to put them under. “We're also here to ask how many people—” she chuckles, “or pets are living inside so that we can properly bill you the homeowner fee.”

Hobie makes a face. “The what?”

“It's just that— oh I hate to be the bearer of bad news but, you're late with your dues.” She eyes you up and down as if you're the bad influence.

“Um,” you feel like you're being scolded by the elders in your family again. The camera moves to zoom in on your clenched fists, shaking as you grip onto the cardigan. “H–How,” you clear your throat but the lump still stays. “I—”

“We’ve never been late in payin’” Hobie answers for you, hand sliding up to your shoulder to massage the tensed muscles. He lies through his fangs just to get them away from you. In truth, he has never paid for anything except for the occasional electricity, water, and internet fee. Other than that, the house is his, and he has never heard of the so called HOA fee until now.

“The city hall has informed us—”

Hobie steps forward, hand still upon your shoulder protectively. “Then we'll go there and see it for ourselves. Have a pleasant night.” He says the last sentence through gritted teeth as he shuts the gates close, then leads you back into the house without another word. The group could only stare at the closed doors as they're left behind outside in the cold.

With the doors locking on its own, no doubt from Hobie's telekinesis, he cups your cheeks, feeling the warmth of your skin against the cold of his undead flesh.

“You alright?” He asks in a soft tone, thumb brushing along your jaw while the crew films the whole interaction with bated breath. “They're not here, Y/N. You're with me, and you're home.”

“Married?” He cracks a smile at the word. You take his wrists, trying to level your breathing. “Are you hypnotizing me?” You ask in a small voice.

“No, love. I'll never do that to you. If I ever do that one day, feel free to put a stake through my heart, yeah?” His wine red eyes look at you softly, as if it's just you and him in the room. “Can't even do that, remember? The curse and all.”

You chuckle, nodding as you take his hands off of your cheeks. Heart beating quickly, Hobie can hear it clearly in his ears. A song that he has dreams of every night. “Thank you, Hobie.” Glancing at the camera crew hunched together in the corner, you back away from Hobie. “I— I need to go to work. Maybe there's some stupid vampire out there who's begging to be staked.”

“I'll pay for the fee, you don't have to worry ‘bout it.” He calls you back.

“No, I don't even pay rent here so I might as well pay for that.” You exhale shakily, fingers still numb from your anxiety building up and bubbling to the surface just a minute ago. “I don't want to be a freeloader.” Hobie frowns at your words.

“But you do pay the rent?” Hobie scratches the back of his neck, wondering where the monthly checks have been coming from.

“I don't?” You turn away from him and towards your room, signalling the end of the conversation.

—

The whole documentary crew pants as they try to keep up with you lest they get burned by a large lava monster out to get you.

“Shit!” You look over your shoulder, hand still holding onto the broken hose, whilst the groaning blob of molten rock runs after you. “Get away from here!” You yell at the crew, “go! I'll be fine!”

Just as when they were about to leave you behind, a loud crash from behind can be heard. You stop in place, panting as you stare at the burn marks left on the pavement, but no creature.

“What? W–Where?” With another crashing sound, you run towards the source, it leads you towards an alleyway. The camera follows right behind you, ready to run away if need be. Taking a glass of holy water from your utility belt, (the only thing you have right now to fight a fire being) you ready to throw it at the beast.

Feet skidding across the pavement, you make it towards the dark alleyway, finding the walls scorched but still no lava monster in sight. Grabbing your flashlight from your belt, you flick it on, watching as the light illuminates the way.

“Stay close to me.” You tell the crew. As you walk towards the alleyway, a silhouette appears, all balled up in the corner with the burning trash. “Hey, you alive over there?” Moving your light, you see a lone man with his clothes singed and fear locked in his eyes. “Cursed, huh?”

He nods, trembling in place. “D–Did I hurt you?”

You stare at the hem of your coat that's singed, other than that, you're perfectly well. “You made me run a couple of blocks. I'm fine, don't worry.” You place your weapon away, taking off your coat and toss it over to him. The stranger immediately drapes it over himself, lips wobbling from the stress of transforming back. “Do you have someplace to stay? Someone waiting for you?” Your mind flicks back to Hobie waiting at home. You shake your head to get rid of the vision.

“Y–Yeah, my wife. I–I think she's waiting for me.”

You stand up, giving him a helping hand. “I'll take you home.”

“You're not gonna kill me and take my heart like the others wanted?” He reaches for you, but retracts his hand back from how cold your palm was.

“No, you were dealt with an awful fate. I'm not gonna take your heart because of it. I just never thought there'd be a human under all the lava.” Hands wringing together, you try to warm yourself up so he could hold onto you for support. “Just a bit of advice from a supernatural expert. Keep your head cool next time. Or at least bring a pack of ice with you and put it on your chest whenever you feel like you're about to turn.”

“Will that work?”

“It's good prevention. At least you won't burn down a whole parking lot next time.” You hold out your hand again, this time he takes it. “Do you know any breathing exercises?”

As you lift him up, you help him waddle back towards your car. “No, do you?”

“God, no.” You chuckle, heaving his heavy form up. “I was hoping you did, I hate for my new car to burst into flames.”

The man smiles, laughing along with you as you help him into your kia. The documentary crew stays back to get into their own car, but Jared the cameraman sees something glinting above a building. He aims his camera at the silhouette, within a second the familiar figure is gone in a snap.

—

Your neck and ankles ache from the hunt, entering Hobie's house empty handed. It was a bust obviously. All you got from it were a bunch of thank yous and a bushel of celeries that the guy's wife gave you straight from her garden. To your surprise, even with the sun peeking from the horizon, you see Hobie in the living room, nursing a burn while he tries and fails to wrap it in gauze.

“Rough night?” You ask from the doorway, shrugging off your coat and leaving it on the coat hanger.

Hobie's eyes flicks down at the celeries in your hand. “For me, wifey? You shouldn't have.”

You scoff with a smile, heading towards him on the couch. The documentary crew is forgotten in the hallway the second you see him bleeding. “You know what they say, happy husband, happy life.” Sitting next to him, you snatch the gauze away from him, helping wrap it around his sizzling arm. It'll heal quickly, but the pain is still there. You want to help in alleviating it, even for a moment.

“It's not just for a moment, y’know.” He whispers to you, but the boom mic still picks it up. You glare tiredly at him. “Sorry, you were thinkin’ too loud.”

You sigh, “it's fine, I was thinking too loud.” wrapping the gauze tightly, you finish him up with an affectionate pat to the back of his hand. “You're done.”

Before you could stand up, he grabs onto your wrist, sliding his hand downwards to grasp at your hand instead. You look down at your interlocked hands, eyes shining in the warm light of his home. You guess it's your home now too.

“Ask.” He softly says.

You chuckle softly, knowing what he meant. Squeezing his hand, you look down at him through fond eyes. “Can I stay in your coffin tonight?”

His crimson eyes sparkle with mischief. “Like yesterday? And the day before that, and the day—”

“Alright, if you're gonna be smug about it—!” He's suddenly carrying you in his lean arms. “Hobie!” You smack his chest weakly. “Don't drop me.”

He leans closer, if his heart still beats, it would beat like a drum right now. “Never, love.”

The lens zeroes in on Hobie's soft gaze on you and at how you're gripping onto him like a lover would. With a puff of dust from the carpet, you and Hobie have run off towards his room. The audio guy hears the sound of shuffling and giggling before the mics get tossed right outside the window with a piercing thump that has the poor guy clutching at his ears.

—

You sit on your desk, fingers kneading at your temples as you glare at your opened laptop that has an absurd interview question. Eyes flicking at the crossbow hanging above the desk, you thump your head against the keyboard, leaving a bunch of Hs in its wake while the camera watches you collapse further into your desk.

The scene shifts back to you, now on the same ancient couch where Hobie once helped you on. There's a steaming cup of tea left untouched on the table with a note in Hobie's scribbled handwriting together with a doodle of you smiling while driving a stake through his heart. That seemed to cheer you up as you smiled slowly, and taking the cup from the coffee table.

“He went out to hunt.” You blow at the warm drink, addressing the camera. Sighing, you already know what Jared the cameran is about to ask you before he could open his mouth. “It's hard to find a decent job when everything in your resume says you kill and hunt the supernatural for a living. A degree in chemistry doesn't help much these days. It doesn't even pay that well— hunting the supernatural, I mean. I think, wait, how did my family get rich from this gig?” Your frown gets deeper, eyes glimmering as you leave the barely touched drink on the table to walk towards your room alone.

You're left to ponder amongst yourself, meanwhile on the second team of the filming crew, they're chasing Hobie while he's on his nightly hunts. He's in a dark alleyway, if it weren't for the camera's night vision, the crew wouldn't be able to see Hobie feasting on a suit clad man with shiny leather shoes.

He lifts up his head from the neck of his latest meal, chin dripping in blood, fangs fully out and eyes bloodshot whilst staring directly at the camera. His eyes glow in the night vision, a proper sight for the start of a horror movie.

“What?” His voice is akin to a growl. He slowly tilts his head towards the camera, claws gripping onto the limp man.

The crew doesn't back away anymore, they're used to Hobie's post feeding haze. But the fear is still there, Hobie can hear their heartbeats thudding against their chests. Just begging to be ripped out. The producer utters your name softly, barely heard by the boom mic.

“Is she still sad?” His fangs retract back slowly, sound squelching as he tosses the body on his shoulder. The camera nods, and Hobie lets out a face. “Nod normally, Jared.” With a whoosh, he's gone, presumably back home. Back to comfort you.

—

You open the front door and are immediately startled by the bright flashing light of the camera. Besides the shock, it’s a beautiful night out, with the stars twinkling in the early hours of night, and the full moon showing itself to you. Giving Jared the cameraman a nasty glare, you button on your coat properly, fixing your hair to hide the warmth on your cheek.

“You guys are late today.” You clear your throat.

Hobie appears from behind the door, yawning and still in his pajamas. He’s wearing your old college sweatshirt, pajama pants hanging low on his hips, and with very fluffy slippers on his feet. He opens the door wider for the crew, keys in hand with a bat keychain hanging alongside it. “Don't forget your keys, love.” The camera pans over to you then back to Hobie. He shrugs, lips shining in the same shade of your lip balm.

The keys jingle as you take them from Hobie, glaring at the camera. “Don't follow me to work.” You point at the lens, making sure to smudge it with your fingerprints, taunting them.

Whilst the crew cleans the glass, moonlight filters inside the house; bathing the now brightly lit home in silver light, blending in well with the warm yellow tone of the light bulbs. Sighing, you glance at Hobie before waving goodbye. He opens his mouth to say something but with the camera following his every move, he shuts his mouth.

“Come home safe, yeah?”

You walk backwards to face him but still heading towards your kia. “It's a grocery store, Hobie. The only danger I'm in is getting stuck in the freezer.” You pause mid-step. “Actually— that's really scary.”

“Well, jus’ don't get inside the freezers then.” He waves back, stepping forward, as if he wants to join you.

You shrug with a smile. “Okay, dad—!”

As the words leave your lips, something or someone flies overhead at unimaginable speed. The air around you almost blows you away, the breeze whistling out a high pitched tone. You shield your head with your arms while the crew braces themselves. Hobie rushes over to you, holding onto you the second he spots a pink blur in the sky.

“Is that a bloody witch?!”

You peak over his bicep while he holds onto you. “I think that's my godmother!” A sultry laugh echoes in the night, and Hobie grimaces at the hazy memory of that sound. He can't quite pinpoint who laughs exactly like that though.

With a whizz of yellow and orange, a crashing sound can be heard inside the house. Glass smashes inside, wood creaking and falling based on the chaos heard. The rushing wind subsides, and you're left with your godmother's words of wisdom in the night.

“Take care of him for me!” Her cackling makes you groan in Hobie's arms.

“Damn it! Not again!” You march inside the house, leaving Hobie's side and pushing away the confused film crew. Kicking the front door open, you enter the house, already noticing the cold air getting inside.

Hobie follows right behind you, your shriek coming from the inside has him immediately appearing right next to you.

“That's my fucking room!” You hold your head in your hands with a frantic look on your face. The camera and Hobie follow your gaze, finding the ceiling now has a person-shaped hole on it.

Hobie had to tamp down a guffaw at how perfectly shaped it is. The hole goes through from the roof to your room then down to the living room ceiling.

“Found the source of the draft you were complainin’ ‘bout last night.” He pokes your side to lighten the mood. “Now you really have an excuse to stay in mine.”

You stomp your foot down, annoyed by it all. “I swear Felicia does this everytime I get my shit together!”

Hobie blinks, then his expression morphs into shock. “That Felicia's your godmother?! The same witch that cursed your whole family?!”

Your eyes widen briefly, head slowly turning towards Hobie. “...no, what I meant was—” The pile of wood and cotton candy insulation moves and groans, the perfect distraction for you. “Oh shit! Someone's under there!” You fail to act worried as you help the person underneath all the rubble.

With a helping hand, a teenager emerges from the splinters. He still holds onto his broom, cloak covered in dust and pink fluffy insulation, yet his hair is still perfect in every way. You're quite jealous.

“You okay?” You flick your eyes towards Hobie who seems concerned about the poor kid who plummeted down through his house.

“Sorry about the damage, lady.”

His deep brown eyes stare into your soul. Maybe he can, your godmother's apprentice always has some gift, that's why she trains them and once they've unlocked their potential, she dumps them on either you or your family members. You still have no idea why she does it though.

The said apprentice notices the cameras following you, and his frown turns into a bright smile. You swear you'll need sunglasses around this kid.

“Oh, cameras! Hello!” He waves back at them all friendly like.

“Did you hit your head that hard?” Hobie gently tilts the kid's head to the side to check for an injury, finding none. He locks eyes with you, answering your question wordlessly, and you sigh in relief.

“Uh, don't think so.” The apprentice knocks on his head and you immediately take his hand to avoid further damage.

“Okay, we're gonna sit down now.” You carefully lead him towards the couch, stepping over debris and a shattered guitar that Hobie doesn't seem to mind being broken.

“A shitty rocker gave that to me, don't worry about it.” He tells the camera and you.

The plush seat helps the kid relax. You take a pen light from your coat, checking signs of a concussion. Thankfully you find none. “You seem good. Can you tell me your name?”

“Pavitr Prabhakar. But you can call me Pav if you like.” He smiles at you, giving you his hand to shake.

“Y/N, and this vampire here is Hobie.” You shake his hand briefly before letting him go and glancing at Hobie, having a wordless conversation.

“Nice to meet you. Sorry about the roof.” He frowns, concerned about the giant hole that is now in the living room.

“Don’t worry, I'll send your mentor the bill.” You stand up, pocketing the pen light. “Felicia does this every time she's bored of her apprentice.” Hobie raises a brow at you, jaw tightening at the name uttered. You ignore it for now. “You seem fine. So come on, where do you live, kid? I'll drive you.” You gently tap him, jiggling your carabiner of keys.

“Mumbai.”

“Damn it.” You hiss.

Hobie finally lets out a loud guffaw that rattles the house, making a plank of wood fall from the ruined ceiling.

“We'll figure this out later.” Checking your watch, you head out. “I'm so late.”

Hobie protests immediately, fluffy slippers squeaking on the floor as he follows you outside. “What about the kid?”

“Just keep him entertained or give him some juice!” You open your car with a beep, entering the driver's seat. “Open tiktok or something!”

“A what?!”

You poke your head out of the rolled down window. “Just don't eat the kid, dude.”

“Dude?!” He animatedly gestures around him like you've scorned him. “That’s not what you called me last night, darling!”

You beam at him playfully. “Dude! There's a kid inside! Don't start!” You're already backing away from the driveway.

He huffs on the porch, hand placed on his hips. “Jus’ don't forget about tonight!”

“Yeah, yeah! Bye!” The car screeches as you drive away wildly as if you're in Tokyo drift.

Hobie exhales deeply, turning around to meet with Pavitr’s polite smile. “D’you like ice cream?” He nods happily. “C’mon, let's get you a bowl. And make sure you grab the one with her name on it, yeah?”

—

The mundane grocery store has you breaking down your defenses that are always on high alert because of your upbringing. So when the camera crew appears right behind you, followed by a familiar black smoke forming into a silhouette, you almost jump in place.

“Nice melons.” Hobie’s face materializes next to you, he glances at the two melons you have in each of your hands with a raised mischievous brow. You roll your eyes, gently placing the fruit back down on the crate.

He leans on the apples right next to you while you were stacking the melons properly after someone took one from the bottom. His brow is raised, eyes flicking towards Jared the cameraman for approval. The said man seems to bite his lip to prevent a laugh from escaping, especially after seeing your deadly glare.

You yank the fruit from under Hobie's arm, making him stumble a bit. “Don't lay on the apples, Hobie.” Your tired voice echoes around the near empty grocery store. This is why you took the night shift, it's more quiet. That and the night deferential salary. “What are you even doing here? Please don't tell me you couldn't keep the kid alive for more than six hours.

His face flickers into concern briefly before smiling softly at you. “Our son misses you.” Gesturing behind him, you peek behind him to see Pavitr browsing the shampoo aisle. “‘Sides, we're here to pick you up for our appointment.” He suddenly groans and rolls his eyes. “I hate that fuckin' word, ‘appointment.’” He shivers in place.

“Pick me up? I'm the one with the car, Hobie.” His grin widens. “No, you're not literally picking me up and flying us towards the city hall.” He pouts, fangs peeking from his lips. “No, remember what happened last time I let you?”

“C’mon, love, it'll be a bloody crackin’ entrance. Strike fear into the hearts of government employees.”

“No, could you guys wait twenty minutes until I finish up my shift?” A thud rings out around the quiet store, you and Hobie look at the source only to find Pav trying to pick up a fallen bottle of shampoo with its strawberry scented contents now oozing on the floor. “You okay?”

“I'm sorry.” Pav's shoulders are slumped, face contorted into fear.

You sigh, heading towards him to help clean it up. “It's alright, don't step into it, you might slip.”

Pavitr looks at you apologetically, “I can pay for it—”

“No need, bruv.” With a wave of Hobie's hand, the oozing shampoo returns back into its bottle on its own. As if being replayed backwards on tape until it flips back on the shelf. Pav stares at him with wide shining eyes. Hobie shrugs at him, patting the top of Pav's head. “See, ‘s fine now.”

“Woah you're really powerful.” Pavitr says with wondernment. “Now I know why my mentor left me with you guys!”

Hobie glances at you only to be met with an empty space. “Oi!” His long legs immediately catch up to you towards the meat aisle. Pavitr follows right behind Hobie, trying not to get distracted by the scented candle aisle they passed through. “Darling, we gotta talk.”

“Uh oh!” You sarcastically say, trying to act busy while you stack up packaged chicken nuggets in the freezer. “We don't, Hobie.”

“What's up with you and Felicia, hm?”

“What's up with you and Felicia?” You throw his words back.

“That was bloody centuries ago, love.” You click your tongue, annoyed at him. Hobie pinches his brows together, instructing Pav to busy himself somewhere while mom and dad talk.

The younger witch makes a face before leaving towards the candle aisle. He was hoping that the crew would do the same but all they did was hide behind a cookie standee to film the interaction subtly. If subtle was an elephant stomping through the aisles.

“Are you fuckin' jealous?” The corner of his lips tick upwards into a smirk. “Thought you didn't fancy me very much, huh?”

You pause, elbow deep in the freezer. “I still don't fancy you.” Emphasizing the word, his smirk turns into a hurt expression. “Don't forget that I tried to kill you, Hobie.”

But he recovers quickly. “That's not what you say every night in my coffin—”

“Felicia is my godmother, there, happy?” You huff, shutting the freezer door loudly. Inhaling, you think of a lie.

You can't exactly please everyone in this situation. If you tell Hobie the truth that your family has broken the curse and is now able to kill him? That could enrage him so much that he could kill you and your entire family in one fell swoop. Sometimes the soft embraces and gentle words make you forget that he was once worshiped as a god. You really don't believe he'll do that but your years of studies hinders you to think otherwise. Or you lie, you keep your family happy and safe, and Hobie stays in the dark. Win/win. If only it were that easy when he's staring at you like that. As if you were the exact person he fell for centuries ago. As if he loved you for who you are and not your ancestor’s face you wear. It's not your fault that you look like her. And yet, it's entirely your fault for falling for him. The one you were supposed to kill three years ago.

“How did that happen?” His voice wakes you up from your internal turmoil.

“They…” you stare deeply into his wine red eyes. Hoping that something will make you fall out of love. But you find none, you find yourself drowning in those crimson pools. Your godmother was right, you're bad with choosing partners. “...They made a deal before I was born. Way before I was born.”

Hobie waits for more but you stay silent, your nails digging into your palms while you lie. “And? What was the deal?”

“I don't know, Hobie. No one told me, it's a family secret— a house secret. The elders only know about it.” You feel awful, like you're spitting venom right at his face.

For a second, you thought that he's able to see through your well concealed lie. But with his nod, he trusts your words wholeheartedly. He trusts you. Maybe he shouldn't.

“Right.” He glances at the cameras still rolling before reaching for your hand atop the freezer to unfurl your fists gently. “We'll wait for you outside—”

The sound of glass shattering smashes the tense atmosphere, followed by Pavitr's muffled apologies. “Gotta help our kid before he breaks anythin' else.”

“Please, before I get fired.” You urge him to go, but his touch lingers on you. Before he could leave, he brings your hands towards his cold lips, pressing softly along the knuckles while he keeps his eyes on you and you only. “Hobie…” Your guilt eats at you.

Watching his back retreat from you has your heart clenching at the sight. You're used to lying, lying to your family about a monster kill when in truth you let them go out of pity. Lying to lovers about your profession; lying comes natural to you. But with Hobie, it's like swallowing a flaming bullet.

“Men, right?” The sudden voice startles you, staring at the source, you find the grocery store owner behind the butcher's counter, with a large knife in her hand.

“It's not nice to eavesdrop, Janet.”

“So is slacking. Get back to work.” With a roll of your eyes and a smile, you head back towards the front of the store.

You stare directly at the camera, “cut this part out.”

—

“Stop touching shit, Hobie.” You drive recklessly in your kia with Hobie in the passenger's seat, Pavitr in the backseat, and Jared the cameraman holding onto dear life right next to him.

“Can't help it, it's my first time in your car.” He smiles as he checks himself out in the rearview mirror. Smiling, he leans on the center console, teasing you with a simple look. “Your air freshener smells oddly like fresh linen and sandalwood, love. I wonder why.” His grin gets bigger with every word. You've been got.

“I like it!” Pav unintentionally saves you the embarrassment. “Reminds me of an ikea.”

You snort, dodging a car on the road like you're Vin Diesel in fast and furious. “It does smell like it, right?” Glancing beside you, you see Hobie frown and sit up right on his seat with a slight huff.

Hobie side eyes you, eyes glinting with playfulness. “Oi, Pav, fancy a snack?”

“No, thank you—”

“Right! The kid's hungry, love. ‘m sure you've got your stash in ‘ere.” Before you could stop him, he reached towards the glove box, opening it swiftly and releasing a stuffed worn out rabbit to tumble out of it.

“Shit,” you curse under your breath. “Don't, Hobie.”

He picks it up by its patchwork ears. “What's this then?”

“Uh, a rabbit. Is this a test?” Pavitr peeks from behind you to stare intently at the plushie. “Yep, a stuffed rabbit.” He confirms.

Your annoyance grows. “Just let it go.” Trying to snatch it, Hobie holds it further away from you. “It's just a toy!” You almost swivel on the road, but you manage to drive straight, eyes keeping up front.

Jared feels like he's about to piss himself.

“I know what it is, the question is, why hide it from me?” He mocks a pensive look, oddly sniffing at the toy. “Pav, mate, any chance that you're a medium?”

“Dude.” You warn. “I swear I will hit the breaks so fast you'll go through the windshield.” Jared hopes you don't.

Pavitr smiles widely, but Hobie stops him. “And don't say that you're a small, bruv. I invented that joke.”

Pav pouts lightly, “...no.”

He shrugs, “damn, the secrets this thing could tell me.”

“I use it as pixie bait, Hobie!” You finally make it to the city hall, thankfully finding it still open even though it's close to two am. You guess that it's a new policy to remain open 24/7? You have no idea, the whole city is weird enough to have goblins and vampires roaming around with no one the wiser.

“Sure…” He flips the bunny upside down, releasing a quiet squeak when he does. Grinning from ear to ear, you already know what he saw whilst you were too busy parking the car. “Then why does it have your name scribbled on it, hm?” To add salt to your wound, he shows the camera your child-like handwriting on the bottom of its fluffy foot. The lens zooms in, making sure that it gets all the details. “Why do you still need a stuffed toy when you have me, love—?” You're already outside, door closed as you leave them behind in the car. Hobie's muffled guffaw can be heard from where you are.

“I think it's cute that she kept a childhood keepsake.” Pav chimes in, opening his door to exit. He leaves Hobie to think about it further.

As you walk towards the entrance, you feel a rush of wind behind you, then a not so subtle arm snaking over your shoulders. Sighing, you stare at Hobie, finding that he has pocketed your bunny inside his coat pocket.

“What? Just keepin’ him safe, don't worry.”

“You better not lose Mr. Prince.” Shoving him off, you leave them behind as you head inside the building.

Hobie looks over at the camera, smirking while patting the rabbit's head.

—

As you enter the glass double doors to collections, you have a group of mismatched people following right behind you, making you seem like you're someone incredibly important. Good thing there's only a handful of people waiting inside. Or else you'd be embarrassed about appearing with a dozen people right next to you. Add the cameras, lights and boom mics, people might ask for Hobie's autograph seeing that he looks like a punk star in his usual red velvet and leather getup. He's in his usual spiked jacket, complete with the numerous pins and patches that you will never confess to anyone that you helped stitch some of it.

And Hobie will never confess to having your initials embossed on the inside, lest you take a peek inside. Which has happened before, if he wasn't fast enough back then, you would've noticed how it's placed right above his heart. The red velvet pants he has on looks comfortable, you know it is from how you borrowed it before when you thought it was pajama pants. His ringed fingers glint in the light, shining as if it's hypnotizing you. The small scattered group of people seem to think so too when they can't get their eyes off of the certain punk. And yet, his eyes don't wander, they're only looking at you as you take a number and sit patiently under the harsh fluorescent light of the government building. Pavitr takes notice of this, so does the whole camera crew. But they don't say anything, just letting him unabashedly stare at you with fondness in those crimson eyes.

Looking up at the screen that says what number they're serving now, you find that you're only two people away from being called on. So you sit tight, pretending that you don't feel his affectionate eyes on you. You try not to glance at him, lest you lean against him and cuddle on his side. You know it's bound to happen when he looks at you like you're the living embodiment of a blood bag. You're not his blood bag, not yet anyway.

The room feels stiff with its drab grey walls, boring PSA posters, and even more boring royalty free music playing softly in the speakers. You feel sorry for the employees right now for hearing that kind of music on loop for eight hours. The air around the place is just incredibly mind bogglingly boring. The room doesn't even smell anything, as if the room itself sucked all the good things and farted it out in the parking lot.

You can hear the whirring of the camera lens while they take establishing shots of the entire place. You're used to the sound nowadays, what you're still not used to is the questioning stares from people around you. Sighing, you feel Hobie's arm snake around your shoulder subtly. While Pav sits on your left, and trying to ignore the blatant PDA, Hobie lounges on the cold metal bench as if he owns the place. You can hear him scoffing and murmuring a “bureaucrat” under his breath after waiting for exactly six minutes.

“Be patient, Hobie, we just got here.” You pat his hand laying on your clavicle, index playing with the frayed edges of your shirt.

The camera hones in on the close proximity, and Pav stares at the camera with a blank stare. One day in and he's already tired of it.

“‘m gettin' hungry, darling.” Hobie replies with a playful lilt.

“You fed after you woke up.” You unconsciously touch the side of your neck where the two pinpricks of scars lay. The lenses whirr again, and you don't have to wonder what they're currently shooting at. Leaning closer to him, a smirk immediately appears on his lips when he gets a whiff of your familiar perfume. “Don't be greedy.” Your whispered words are no use when the mics pick it up clearly.

“Still, ‘m hungry now.” His honeyed wine eyes glance at the bathroom in the far corner of the room. You take notice.

“No.” You enunciate for clarity. He pouts, feigning disappointment. “Keep those fangs in, Hobie.”

“Until we get home?” He whispers against the shell of your ear as you see your number glaring on the screen.

“In your dreams.” You say, standing up to go to the nearest available counter. Hobie's quiet footfalls follow you immediately together with Pavitr's louder footsteps. The camera crew stay a few ways away from you, save for Jared the cameraman who sidles up with you on the counter.

“I love seein’ you in my dreams, lovie.” He calls after you. And you ignore him with a roll of your eyes.

“What are we doing here again?” Pav scratches the back of his head, talking in between yawns. “Are we getting your marriage certificate?”

“What?” You almost yell in shock. “No, we're here to pay our dues.”

Hobie chuckles, “Where'd you get that idea, bruv?”

“Marrying your familiar isn't unheard of—”

“She's not my bloody familiar.” Hobie says, a bit offended.

Pavitr gives an apologetic look, hands raised in surrender.

“I'm not his fucking familiar.” You simultaneously say with Hobie, but the second you let out the sentence, the person behind the counter appears. “Shit– sorry, hi. We're here to check our balance?”

“Uh,” the brown eyed boy wearing an oversized hoodie glances at the camera next to you, then his eyes widens at the sight of you and Hobie. Recognition flits across his face for a second before clearing his throat. “HOA fees right?” he's already typing, weirdly enough, he doesn't ask for your name or Hobie's, he didn't even ask what the camera crew is about. Hell, he didn't even ask what's up with the bunny inside Hobie's pocket.

You flick your eyes towards his nametag, reading his name and position internally. ‘Miles Morales, intern.’

“Thanks, mate.” Hobie rests his chin atop your shoulder, while Pav tries to take a peek at what the guy behind the counter is typing. You resist the urge to cup the back of Hobie's neck.

“Hey, aren't you my age?” Pavitr suddenly asks, face pressed against the glass.

“Uh, don't do that. The glass is nasty.” Miles answers while still typing. Pavitr immediately moves away from the glass pane. “Yeah, I guess.” He taps his badge, “got the short end of the stick.” Pav nods, now leaning on the glass all nonchalant, copying Hobie.

“Let me guess,” Hobie chimes in, hand slyly pressed on the small of your back, giving you enough space to move away. But you remain still, even leaning against him. The producer and Jared the camera man take note of this. “Your old man gave you community service for spray paintin’ hm?”

Miles pauses from typing, eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “I didn't give you permission to read my mind.”

Now it's your turn to be confused. “You know that he's a vampire?” Pointing at Hobie's chin, you can feel him smile on your shoulder.

“Bro has red eyes, and has been glancing at your neck.” he shrugs, “What else could he be?”

You and Hobie chuckle nervously, getting called out is embarrassing enough, but getting called out by a teenager is much more mortifying.

Hobie looks impressed. “I didn't read your mind, mate. I saw your phone wallpaper and it has your old man wearing a copper’s uniform. Then I saw the paint on your hands, I put two and two together. I don't do that invasive shit, come of it.”

You crane your neck to see him looking back at you smugly, proud of his own perceptiveness.

Miles smacks his lips together, continuing to type, keyboard clicking loudly around the room. For a half second, Miles' eyes turn white, as fast as it came, it's gone. If you blinked right there and then, you would've missed it. Pavitr seems to notice too, he moves next to your side, hand cupping your elbow. He's probably freaked out about it but didn't want to say anything. Hobie noticed it, based on how he squeezes your hip lightly. Jared looks like he saw a ghost, his hands trembling as he holds the camera.

“Right, Brown residence on—? Watch out for the mail cart!” Just as he says it, the sound of rolling wheels and metallic clanging can be heard right behind you. The presumably mail guy runs after it frantically, trying to catch up.

Grabbing Pav out of the way, Hobie in turn moves the two of you away from harm as the cart smashes against the counter. Envelopes and packages fly off, the sound of metal bending has you gnashing your teeth together. If not for Hobie, you would've been pancaked by the cart. Good thing Jared the camera man had enough time to jump back. You can't exactly pay for the damages if he got run over by the homicidal mail cart.

“Shit, sorry about that!” The man running after it quickly picks up the packages with yours and Pav's help. In a minute or so, he's already wheeling the damaged cart away.

“Knobhead should've been more careful.” He pats the space between your shoulder blades, wordlessly asking if you're alright. With a nod, he returns his attention towards the mysterious Miles.

“You okay, Pav?” You nudge him, smiling kindly at him.

“Yeah,” he pats himself all over, checking for injuries. “You saved my life.” He gasps at you, eyes shining.

You chuckle, “don't worry about it.” Turning towards Miles, you tilt your head curiously at him as he presses gently at his temple. “Headache bothering you?” Hobie glances at you with a soft smile, while the other two stare at you with wide eyes. “One of my cousins was clairvoyant, I know about the skull splitting headaches after a vision.” Grabbing a piece of paper from Miles’ table, you take your pen light, scribbling down a recipe. “She brews these everyday. Helps with her migraines.” You give it to Miles without another word.

He takes it gingerly, skimming through it. “Thanks. It's getting worse these days.” Clearing his throat, he shows you his computer screen. “Turns out you're fully paid for everything. I guess the system got it wrong the first time. It happens a lot.”

Hobie grins at him. “Thanks, bruv.”

“Did you think I rigged the system?” Miles glances at the three of you. “It wasn't me, even if I could do that. You're actually just fully paid. It was probably an error.��� He shrugs, “we're good here.”

“Wait, are you sure?” You try to confirm. Flicking your eyes towards the vampire, he just shrugs, more than ready to go home as he tugs you away.

“We need to go before I start eating everyone in ‘ere.” Hobie whispers, pulling you and Pav away from the counter.

“It was nice meeting you, Miles!” Pav waves a goodbye, now getting hauled away by Hobie. The entire crew exits with the three of you, finding the whole encounter boring except for the fact that they just filmed an actual clairvoyant in action.

“You too, Pavitr.” He tiredly answers back.

“He knows my name?” Pav wonders as Hobie opens the double doors with his mind. With a gust of black smoke, he teleports the three of you outside, leaving the crew in the dust.

—

“That was anticlimactic.” You say as you unlock your car, which Hobie quickly sits on the passenger seat before Pav could call shotgun. “Did you know about that?” You ask, leaning against the doorway, head peeking in.

Hobie buckles himself, still holding Mr. Prince hostage. “You better get inside or the rabbit gets it.”

“I'm with Hobie on this one, Y/N, I'm really tired.” Pav yawns, head leaning against Jared's shoulder, all weary.

You sigh, “fine, we still need to get you settled in one of the rooms.”

“Don't worry,” he fights a yawn while you start the engine and put on your seatbelt. “It's only temporary until Felicia takes me back home.” His eyes close gently, lashes fluttering as he relaxes in his seat.

You feel sorry for him, knowing that your godmother dumped him over to you after unlocking his powers. Now he's all by himself after being practically raised by her. Hobie seems to think of the same thing, red eyes turning into a softer hue as he looks at Pav in the rearview mirror. Turning towards you, he knows what you're thinking.

“The blue room. I'll clear it for him.” Without thinking, you reach over the center console to kiss his cheek. His eyes close briefly, breath staggered in his throat.

“Thank you.” Leaning away, you pat his cheek Without looking at the direction of the camera. Good thing that Pavitr's already asleep. “I'll help clean it up.” Hobie seems to be stuck in the moment, leaning against your palm, eyes cast on you.

A loud metal thud ruins the saccharine moment. Screaming in shock, you see Miles huffing in front of the car, fists knocking on the hood. Pavitr snorts in his sleep, none the wiser at what transpired.

“What the hell, man! I just bought this!”

Hobie's eyes glare dangerously at Miles for ruining the moment and for punching the hood of your kia.

“I—I need help!” He heaves, panting like he ran after you three. “It's my friend! She's in trouble!”

Hobie's demeanour changes. You're already unlocking the door for Miles. “Get in!”

—

“There!” Miles points at the city's cemetery.

Fog rolls in, blanketing the grassy knoll and grey gravestones. Curved trees loom overhead, moonlight beaming down, painting the leaves in its silver light. You slow down the car into a stop, eyes trying to decipher what's hiding in the mist. Before you could stop Miles, he's already running further into the cemetery.

“Fuck! Don't run off!” You yell after him, releasing your seatbelt as you quickly grab a dagger under your seat. Opening the door, Hobie grabs your wrist, clawed hand wrapping gently around you. “What? I gotta help the kid!”

His red pupils shake, lips pursed into concern. For a moment you thought that he'd protest, or even teleport you back home. “I'll come with.” Instead, he releases you, exiting the car in a blur of smoke as you stare at the trail he leaves behind.

You turn towards the backseat, finding Pavitr still sleeping off the day's fatigue. Then you glance at the camera and the van parked right behind your kia. The filming crew could be in terrible danger if they come with you, but with Jared's curt nod, you exhale sharply.

“Stay far from the action and don't do anything reckless. You got that?” You don't wait for his reply as you're already getting out of the car. Speed walking towards the trunk, you open it quickly, yanking the false bottom away to reveal your array of weapons towards the film crew. “Shit, should've asked what we're killing.”

So you chose the quickest thing you have and the most universal thing that could kill an entity, silver tipped arrows and crossbow. Grabbing the quiver, and your utility belt filled with toys for hunting down the supernatural, you head towards the direction Miles went while you frantically equip yourself.

“Hobie!” The cold pinches your cheeks, lashes fluttering in the cold autumn air. Yours and the documentary crew's footsteps crush fallen leaves whilst you dodge gravestones on your way. The fog parts for you, and now you see what you're up against. “Oh good, at least it's not a gang of pixies.”

The ten foot werewolf howls, blond fur matted with dried blood, claws drenched in the same ichor. Your worst fears come to mind, but the second you see Hobie hauling away Miles on his shoulders, you sigh in relief.

The crew listens to you after seeing the behemoth, choosing to get out of your way instead of getting the shot that might win them a golden globe. Instead, they'd rather stay alive in the sidelines even if the footage will be grainy and far away.

Loading the crossbow, you step on the cocking stirrup, anchoring it on the ground as you load the arrow in its crosshairs. Knocking it back with some force, and putting it in place. The sharp string cuts your palm open but you ignore it while your blood drips on the grass below.

“Damn it.”

The camera pans from you over to the werewolf, its teeth are bared, maw opening and closing as it whines, as if it's in pain. Its blue eyes glint in the moonlight as it sniffs the air, head moving until it stops in your direction.

Heart stuck in your throat, you raise the crossbow. The wailing werewolf bounds over to you, paws as big as your head digging into the soil below.

“No, don't shoot!” Miles manages to wiggle out of Hobie's hold, now running towards you, desperately trying to reach you.

“Miles!” With one lightning quick move, Hobie yanks Miles away, and in turn snatching you off your feet, making you miss your shot.

The arrow pierces the tree right next to Jared's head, you swear you can see him collapse on his knees from where you are.

The werewolf slashes at thin air, howling and huffing from the missed mark.

“Why'd you do that?!” You ask Hobie, bracing yourself on a gravestone as you try to keep your dinner down from the sudden jerky movement.

“She's my friend!” Miles answers for Hobie. “Don't kill her please.” He grabs you by the shoulders, and you now notice how he limps. “She's already hurt.”

You glance at Hobie, who nods at you. Looking at Miles’ friend, you find her clawing at her head, still crying out in pain. Tilting your head, you notice that her ears are bleeding, claws digging in her ears. Like she's trying to quiet down the noises. But you're at a cemetery, the quietest place you can be at night.

Miles yells your name, shaking you awake. “Can you help her?!”

“I think I can.” You stand up straight despite your nerves inching its way into your chest. “Go wake up Pav, tell him he needs to do a trapping spell, one that is strong enough for her.”

“W–What?” Miles is panicking, hands shaking and body trembling from fear.

“I know we just met but you trusted us enough for you to ask for help.” You clasp his shoulder. “Please do what I tell you so we can help your friend properly, okay? Nod if you understand.” He nods, still trembling. “Good, wake up Pav, tell him to cast a trapping spell, one that would last for at least ten to fifteen minutes. Before he does that, go to my trunk,” you hand him your keys. “There's a leather pouch in there filled with vials. Take the whole pouch and then my mortar and pestle. As much as possible, avoid her. She won't be able to recognize you in this state. Hobie and I will keep her occupied.”

“Mate, do you understand?” Hobie takes a look at the werewolf then over to Miles. “You can do it, weave through the trees, avoid her eyes, easy, thread the bloody needle.”

“O–Okay.” He takes a deep breath. And you encourage him with a smile. “Her name's Gwen, please don't hurt her.” With those words, he enters the thicket, running even with his sprained ankle.

Gwen doesn't seem to notice him just yet, she's still wincing and groaning on the ground. Paws still clutching at her bleeding ears.

“What do you think, lovie? Should we call your uncle the Jersey devil?” Hobie sidles up to you, nudging you with his shoulder.

You chuckle despite the dire situation, hands feeling for the things in your utility belt, making mental notes of what you currently have. “Don't call him that just because he has a birthmark in the shape of Jersey.”

“I think he's the only family member you have that I like.” He says while slipping off his leather jacket and draping it over a tombstone.

“I'll tell him that.” Dropping the crossbow, you opt for a more defensive strategy. Hobie walks in front of you, subconsciously protecting you. With trepidation in your veins, you hold him back with your hand clasped around his wrist. “Don't die. I'm the only one who's allowed to kill you.”

He looks over his shoulder, smiling softly. “‘m immortal, remember?”

“Immortal, not invincible.” His red eyes soften into a pinkish hue.

“Fuck it.” Hobie grins before cupping your cheeks and leaving a chaste kiss on your lips. Leaving you breathless. It was so fast that you barely felt it. Like a breeze fluttering by, but you savour it nonetheless. He runs his thumb across the scar he left on your neck lovingly. “Twilight fans will cream themselves when they see this fight.”

“You ruined the moment.” You whisper, leaning closer to peck the corner of his lips. In your peripheral, you see Pavitr is now awake, with Miles rummaging through your trunk. But the most concerning thing is Gwen is now noticing the two boys behind her. “Go fulfill some fanfic, vamp.”

He winks all suave, then a puff of smoke envelopes you, hugging your form before a large bat appears through it. Hobat flies towards Gwen with a determined screech.

Hobie distracts Gwen, his bat form circling around her wildly as he dodges her clawed swipes. She continues to yelp and huff at him, blue eyes darkening with annoyance at the shrieking bat that is the size of a grown man. You've seen this bat form of him a few times before, but it always astonishes how flawless he flies overhead. Even though you've seen him drunk in this form before.

Whistling out loudly, you take Gwen's attention briefly before she could side swipe at one of Hobie's wings. His claws dig into her matted fur, tugging and pulling at it like a playground bully.

You step into the fray to help him. You can't help but worry with every second that ticks by. Taking a smoke canister from your utility belt, the can is filled with bright pink smoke, you throw it in the direction of the frantic werewolf, obscuring her vision and staggering her backwards from the hissing sound the cans emanated. You circle around her, throwing more and more of the canister. Her yowling echoes in the cemetery, sending shivers down your spine. The pink smoke is dyeing her blond fur, mixing in with the darker crimson hue.

Miles suddenly calls for you, inadvertently getting Gwen's attention from Hobat. “Ah shit!” Gwen turns towards him, ready to pounce at her friend. “Gwen, it's me—!”

Gwen raises a large clawed paw, and you don't even think before you lunge at Miles to push him away from harm. Your bag clatters in the ground. With a thump and the sound of cloth tearing, you land with Miles on the soft soil, dry grass clinging to the both of you.

“You okay?” You huff, giving him a once over to check for injuries. He nods his head, eyes wide with panic, and staring above you. Looking over your shoulder, you see her going in for the kill. “Hobie.” You whisper into the wind, he hears it, frozen heart clenching at the scene as he tries to get Gwen's attention.

It's futile.

Within a half second, Hobie turns into his regular form above Gwen, fist raised, ready to strike. He meets with your fearful eyes, your own body shielding Miles. Dread fills him as Gwen's knife-like claws get closer and closer to your head— he can't see you die again.

A sudden blast of light blinds him. Instead of landing a hit on Gwen's furry face, he slams unceremoniously on a glass like dome, face smashing against it harshly. He groans, body sliding down the dome slowly. As he hits the ground, he immediately runs towards you at unimaginable speed.

Yelling your name, he finds you sitting on the grass with Miles, still heaving from the close call. “Love!” He makes it to you, hands immediately cradling your face. “Fuck, I thought I lost you.”

Taking his wrists, you close your eyes, leveling your breathing as you inhale his perfume to ground you back to reality. “I'm o–okay.” There's a sudden ache on your leg that you ignore for now. “We need to put her to sleep.”

Miles stares up at Gwen, claws piercing through the spell but still holding her in place. “That won't hurt, right?”

“No, it won't. Just think about it like a sleeping pill.” You try to stand up, but you feel something wet just under you. Placing your hand under your thigh, it's warm and wet. Lifting your palm, you see red. “Oh.”

Hobie smells the familiar scent, alarms ringing in his head just as when you lift your hand up. “No,” he immediately rips a piece of fabric from his shirt to quickly wrap it around your wound. “You'll be okay.” His hands are drenched with your blood, and not in a good way.

Pavitr makes it to your side, hands glowing with the same yellow light from the spell. His eyes widen at your bleeding leg. “Is she gonna be okay?”

Miles' terrified stare has you rethinking your injury. Gwen mumbles incoherently inside the bubble, snout sniffing at your spilled blood. “It was an accident.” He whispers, you don't know if he's saying it to you or to his friend.

“I'll be okay, just a flesh wound.” You tug at Hobie's arm, feeling the tingling sensation from the loss of blood. You have to do it quickly. “Hobie.” Tying the cloth around you tightly, he's too panicked to hear you, blood rushing in his ears, fangs out as he tries to tamp down his hunger. “Hobie.” Cupping his cheek, he finally looks at you. “I'll be okay, we have blood bags at home, and we can stitch this later. For now, someone go get my kit, Pav can't hold her back forever.”

“I can wait—” Pav's glowing hands are starting to shake.

“No, you can't.” You say as you take the leather bag from Miles' trembling fingers. “I can survive this, don't worry.” You can tell that he's feeling guilty. “I won't turn into a werewolf if you're worried about that. I need to get bitten to turn.” Hobie gives you space to work, your leg aches but you carry on.

“I think you dyin’ from blood loss is our main concern, love.” Hobie stares at you fondly while you expertly pick your herbs and flowers into the mixture inside the mortar. Using your teeth to open the vials, pouring just the right amount as if you're not actively bleeding.

“Nobody's dying today, Hobie.” You glance at him, smiling softly before you return to crushing the ingredients together until it turns into a metallic purple shade. “Needs more wolfsbane.” You add a bit more into the concoction, crushing it into the mortar.

“Y/N?” Pav's shaking voice has you pausing in place. “I'm g–getting tired, I'm sorry.” Sweat dribbles off his forehead, straining from the spell.

“Just a few more seconds, Pav, you're doing great.” You have no time to finesse the crushing, so with a few more strikes to the bright purple powder, you immediately take a handful of it. “Help me up.” Hobie quickly grabs hold of you, arms enveloping around you as you anchor yourself against him. “Can you open it a bit?”

“What?” Pavitr swallowed thickly.

“Just enough for the powder to get inside.” You see the apprehension in his eyes. “You can do it.”

He nods slowly, still unsure. His left hand balls into a fist, unclenching it slowly. Lips muttering a spell softly. You watch while a hole emerges from the side, Gwen roars at you, an ear piercing sound that has the birds waking up from their nests.

“It's okay.” You slowly approach the opening, fist unfurling in front of it. Without wasting another second for Pav's sake, you gently blow at the powder, sending it fluttering inside the dome that encapsulates her. The opening closes, keeping the substance inside. “C’mon, go to sleep.” Hobie feels you weaken in his hold, he brings you back down on the grass, letting you lean against his body. “Thanks, guys. You all did well.” Voice wavering, you look up at Hobie as you hear Gwen's soft yawning. “Thank you, Hobie.”

“Oi,” his tone cracks, “don't die on me.”

“Not a chance. I think I inhaled a bit of it.” You chuckle, craning your neck just in time to see Gwen slump on the grass, snoring softly. “She was hearing voices, wasn't she?” Eyes flicking over to Miles, he nods, relief evident in his shoulders.

“Yeah, she— she's a medium.”

You nod, understanding fully. “She has no pack because of her ability.”

“Yeah,” Miles sniffles, and Pav releases the spell, opening the dome fully. Light fades away, replaced by the bitter blue of dawn. “She only has me.”

“A medium werewolf, there's a joke in there somewhere.” Hobie quips, admiring you in the glow of the early morning sky. He has never seen you in this light, and this is the closest he has gotten to sunlight in a thousand years. But warmth? He feels it everytime you walk into the room. Hand reaching for the stuffed bunny, he places it on your arm for comfort. “Let's get you some blood, yeah?”

“Oh how the turn tables.” You chuckle, hugging Mr. Prince as Hobie lifts you up and carries you. “Hold on,” you look at your childhood companion in its button eyes. “I think Gwen needs him more than I do.” You hand it to Miles so that he could place it on the crook of her arm. Gwen immediately feels the fluffiness, curling around the plushie and hugging it in her werewolf form.

The sun peeks from the horizon, now it's your turn to panic. “Do you want to be toasted, Hobie? Because if we stay for a minute longer you'll be a pile of ash. And that doesn't look good on T.V.”

The filming crew walks towards the group now that it has calmed down. They're still shaking from what happened, but they're alright. The sun slowly inches its way over to you and the group, flooding the way behind you in its golden rays.

Hobie's skin is starting to sizzle, and yet he still smiles with endearment at you and the little rag tag group he's lucky enough to run into. You stare longingly at him while the glow of the sunrise bathes his face. You can't help but imagine a life where he could walk in the light again. One day, he'll be able to once he reaches a certain age, but for now, you're well alright with walking the shadows with him.

Hobie’s tempted to kiss you right then and there if not for the threat of him becoming cement. “Take large werewolf and that's so raven ‘ere and meet us back home, Pav.” Your car keys leap off from the ground and into Pavitr's hand. “Don't forget my jacket.” Before the sun fully blankets the cemetery, you and Hobie disappear into a puff of blackened smoke.

Pav sniffs, “But I don't know how to drive.”

—

“Well, I'm alive!” You gesture at yourself on the couch while Hobie lounges right next to you. His arm is perched right on your shoulders, fingers brushing along the pin prick scar on your neck. “It's been a long recovery.” You sigh, “too fucking long.”

“But we made it.” Hobie pats your stomach lovingly. “Two months and we've got her runnin’ circles around us.”

You scrunch your face into a scowl, flinging his hand away from your tummy. “Don't do that, they might think I'm knocked up.” Shrugging, he instead pats your face with his palm covering your entire face. “This isn't any better, Hobie.”

A blond girl with pink highlights walks behind you, leaning against the couch with a smirk. “Congratulations on the little abomination.” She flicks her blue eyes towards the camera, pointing at herself. “Gwen, the werewolf who almost killed her.”

Hobie finally releases your face. Revealing your glare, which he covers up again with his hand. “Right, I guess she lives here now too.”

Gwen rolls her eyes, jumping over the couch to sit next to you and yank off Hobie's hand away from your face. “You guess? You're the one who invited me here, Vampire.” She leans over you, eyeing him up and down. “You of all people should know the value of an invitation.” Sticking her tongue out, she places her head on your shoulder, arms wrapped around your arm.

“Get off my darling, mutt.”

“Nope, bloodsucker.”

You stare at the camera with a flat expression. “Just do the montage for context.”

—

The scene shifts with you while on bed rest, flipping off the camera that the crew has sneakily managed to peek through the crack in the doorway. Gwen, now in her human form, has taken the mantle of taking care of you. Even though you've told her numerous times that it's not her fault and shouldn't feel guilty about it. She always answers with her puppy dog eyes, and you always surrender.

She's covered in bandages herself, still healing from what you've been told— from a werewolf pack that decided to pick on her during the full moon. With some help from your books, you found a way to tamp down the ghosts that haunt her. And in turn, shutting up the lifeless voices she hears. There's nothing you can do about the transformations though.

Gwen pauses from her reading to you, sniffing at the air. “I smell death.” You roll your eyes at the comment.

“Not again, Gwen—”

With smoke slithering inside, Hobie appears in the room, carrying bags filled with take out. Gwen makes a face at Hobie, nose scrunched up. “Oh, just him.”

Hobie smirks at her, but his eyes glare at her before turning soft when he sees that she was reading to you. “I guess you don't want your spring roll then?”

Gwen gasps, offended. “No, I want it!” She pounces over the bed, bodying Hobie. He falls back into the door, shutting it closed, slamming into Jared and making him stumble backwards into the stairs.

The camera falls with him, landing directly next to Pavitr's feet, it catches his shocked expression. His scream almost cracks the lens. He panics around the groaning cameraman, calling for Miles who appears from the doorway, joining Pav’s side.

“Why's Jared on the floor?”

—

The mics pick up the soft hum of the record player, the candle lights gives off a lens flare when the camera moves to fix the angle they're capturing. There you are sitting next to Hobie on the long dining table, laughing with Miles about something, while Pavitr accidentally knocks his glass of orange juice from his bout of laughter.

“It was one time!” Gwen exclaims, giggling along.

“That poor leprechaun, Gwendy.” Hobie shakes his head, acting as if he's disappointed at her. He takes a subtle look at you, smiling with his bloodstained fangs from the goblet of blood that he's having. It makes you laugh harder.

The camera moves downwards, recording what's under the table. Hobie's hand is atop your own, fingers interlocked with yours lovingly.

“I didn't know they don't like lucky charms, okay!”

The house fills with laughter, warmth blanketing around the once cold and barren home.

—

“A bat!” Pavitr shoots a web of light from his hands towards the shrieking fruit bat flying around the ceiling of the living room.

“Don't let it bite me!” Gwen hides under the couch blanket you specifically placed there for movie nights.

“Transform or something, Gwen!” Miles screams when the tiny bat plunges down towards him, chasing him around the living room as Miles knocks down several knick knacks off the shelves. “Catch it!”

“No, fuck off!” Gwen says, still balled under the crocheted blanket.

“Keep it still, Miles!” Pav shoots wildly, almost hitting the camera directly. “Sorry, Jared!”

“It's gonna bite me! Help!” Miles' voice cracks, feet stumbling all over the carpeted floors.

“Y/N! Help!” The trio simultaneously yells for you.

Within a few seconds, you're off the bed and making your way downstairs with your crutch helping you walk.

“What?! Are the goblins back?!” You skid off the floor, side hitting the door frame but otherwise fine. Looking around, you see the mess that was previously the living room. Then you see Hobat flying around in his smaller bat form, playfully teasing them and riling them up by flying close to each of them. ‘Hobie, change back and stop scaring the kids!’ Is what you would've said if not for Hobie's happy screeching. Instead, you join in on the fun. “Pav! Watch out, it's gonna get you!”

Their simultaneous screams have you guffawing in place. Hobie will change back in front of them later for sure, but until then, he's gonna have his fun.

—

The security camera sits stationary in the living room, pointed directly at the rubble filled floor where Pavitr fell in. The footage is grainy and in black and white, but clear enough to see everything that's happening.

“Keep it still, Pav!” Hobie's muffled voice can be heard from upstairs, followed by some rustling.

“I'm trying! Miles, help me!” Pav answers back, tone muffled from the security camera.

“It's slipping!”

With a yelp, Hobie falls into the hole, plunging down on the living room with a harsh thud.

He groans, Gwen rushing towards the crash. When she sees him lying on the rubble, her loud laughter sends the camera's mic into a scratchy audio that would rock your hearing.

—

Miles leans against the kitchen island, head placed on his palm while you and Hobie help each other with the dishes. If someone told you that you have to actually read a proper cookbook, and shop for ingredients that aren't instant ramen or coffee, you would've told them to get back inside their alternate dimension. But here you are, washing the dishes with a thousand year old vampire you were supposed to kill years ago. Together with a teenage werewolf who can see dead people, a former witch apprentice, and a clairvoyant who probably knows when you'll die but remains quiet about it. He's nice like that.

“So still a no on me being your familiar then?” Miles asks again, and you're sure that he's only doing this to annoy Hobie now.

“No!” He says, towel flipped on his shoulder, and hands placed on his hips.

Miles smiles, getting the reaction he wanted. “Okay, dad.” A chorus of laughter floats around Hobie as he looks down at his very dad-like posture.

If you're not honed in on his micro expressions, you'd think he's proper annoyed or embarrassed, but with the slight tick on the corner of his lips, you know that he's amused and endeared by it all.

“Does that make Y/N our mom?” Pavitr chimes from the dining table, helping Gwen wipe down the oak.

You feel their stares right on your back. Turning around, you face a very smiley Hobie, and a trio of teasing grins. “Get back to cleaning or you're all grounded.”

—

“I heard my name!” Pav saunters inside the living room, flour still sticking to his cheek.

“We were telling the crew how bad of a driver you were.” Gwen teases as Pav sits next to Hobie with a pout.

“We made it didn't we? You didn't even wake up from the bumping!” He argues over you and Hobie, Miles hears the whole thing, following right after Pav.

“It was because of Mr. Prince.” Miles says, falling on the couch with a groan. He sits next to Gwen, pointing at the bunny plushie’s head that's peeking from her back pocket. He makes sure that the cameras zoom in on it.

“Shut up, Miles.” Gwen says through gritted teeth, hiding the bunny with her cardigan.

Pav and Miles snickers in their seat, while you and Hobie look at eachother affectionately. The producer behind the camera tries to ask you a question above the arguing from the three.

Hobie chuckles before shaking his head, he tells you his plan in your mind. He sniffs at the air, fingers snapping together. “Oi, what's that burnin’ smell?”

“Wait, the sourdough!” You play along, acting as if the loaf you made with them is burning inside the oven.

“No!” The trio jumps off the couch, scrambling towards the kitchen and leaving you and Hobie once again.

With a grin, Hobie scooches closer to you, arms pushing you closer to him. You've given up on hiding the affection from the cameras, hell they even captured the kiss, no matter how grainy it was, there was obvious lip locking happening in the cemetery.

You lean your head on his shoulder, that's the line you're willing to cross in front of them. Lest they have to change the content rating on the documentary.

“What happened with the HOA?” The producer asks clearly now.

“I honestly forgot about them.” You glance at Hobie, finding that he's already beaming at you. “They never came back to the house. I guess your payments went through this time.”

Hobie furrows his brows, side eyeing you. “I didn't pay for jack shit, lovie.”

You blink, thinking. “I pay for the electricity and the groceries just like we talked about.”

“Yeah, and I pay for the other shit like the internet and the water—” he points at the camera, “which should be free by the way.” Then he returns his attention to you. “I'm not payin’ for some membership so that the old coots would judge our bloody lawn.”

“That's true, they always complain about the lumpy soil and the wildflowers.”

“Where else would I bury the bodies? The thames? It's already nasty enough.”

“Wait,” you place your hand over his mouth, which based on his eyes, he's fond of it. “Who's been paying for our shit?” You two look at eachother with confusion.

—

“Why did I leave my apprentice with my favourite goddaughter?” Felicia is being interviewed right in front of Hobie's house. Platinum hair blowing in the wind, still in her witch attire, and hand holding onto a broom. “He's too happy for me, literally, his mood is changing my aesthetic.” She grabs a handful of her bright pink cloak. “This used to be black.”

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

Please tell me what you think! Consider reblogging if you liked it ❤️

[project-sekai-news]

The Pegasus - An Interview

Welcome back to PJSK News! I'm your host, Tenma Saki, and because Hoshino couldn't be here today, I have brought a special guest! Special guest, how about you introduce yourself?

Good evening, everyone! I am Tenma Tsukasa, a world star! Many of you know me by my stage name, the Pegasus!!! Saki here is actually my little sister!

Hehe, Onii-chan, no headpats on camera! Anyway.. I have all the interview questions right here! Are you ready?

More than ready! Shoot!

Okay! First question: Tumblr user @sillystringstar asked: "Dear, Pegasus, why the horse name?"

That's an easy one! My surname, Tenma, means 'pegasus!' Therefore, I thought it only fitting to use that as my stage name!

I knew that one! Hehe, then I could use that as my pen name whenever I write articles! ..On second thought, that might be a little confusing.

Let's see, the next question is.. by @ithappenedonroute66 !! "If you are a star, then are you the sun and going to explode in the far future?"

E-er, you see, I'm not that kind of star! I'm a great and talented performer kind of star! BUT! I will explode in a blaze of glory in the future! You'll see, Saki, and uh.. it-happens-route-6!

I'll be waiting! ... user @agoist asked, "Why did you make that young girl cry by yelling “Dance and Sing” at her?"

Wh-where'd you here that from?! Ahem, I mean, the problem is solved! The girl was looking for her mom, is all! With Rui's help, the girl found her mom safe and sound, so you needn't worry about anything!

We're just going to ignore the fact that I blabbed.. next question, by @crime-soncloud! "Pegasus, what are your thoughts on the work of this news network, and what do you feel should be reported on more?"

This is a brilliant news network, run by my dear sister Saki and her friends! I try my best to listen to every single one of their reports! ..Though I haven't listened to the one about Akito yet! I've been a bit busy lately...

As for what should be reported on! I believe everything Saki and her friends report on needs their full attention! That being said, I recommend other Sekai's! So far, PJSK News has only reported on evnets happening around Shibuya Sekai, so if they could branch off to other Sekai's, I think that would be very cool!

Ooh, good idea! I'll talk to Ichi about that! Uh - also, the Akito going to jail one isn't that big of an event, haha..! There's no need for you to watch it!

Oh, really? Well, whatever you say, Saki!

Hehe, great! This next one is by.. @ova-kakyoin !! "what is your favorite part of performing? other than people smiling and having fun watching of course."

Hmm.. I'd say getting to know my fellow actors better! You mustn't only care for your audience! The wellbeing of the people you're performing with is also very important!

Well said! Okay.. user @sanri0add1ct asked, "dear Pegasus, why do you call your lunch a luncheon?"

Ah! 'Tis a name only fit for the glorious lunch eaten by the Pegasus!

You always put so much care into the lunches you make for yourself and me! Thank you, Onii-chan!

Anything for you, Saki! What's the next question?

Mm.. @25jpeg is wondering, "dear Pegasus what's your deal with Kamishiro?"

Ah, Rui! Hmm.. I'm not too sure what you mean by that!

Of course you know what they mean! Hm, like.. how he's always teasing you! Or.. oh! I heard from Toya that he sometimes sees the teachers chasing you two around the school~! Ooh, or maybe when you were rehearsing Ro -

Wait a minute! Where did you hear this?!

Well, I picked up the teasing one by myself, and like I said, Toya told me about how the teachers chase you two...

Ugh.. to think my wonderful fans would take our relationship like this..

Time for me to clear things up! ..Everyone, Rui is not bullying me!

...Huh..?

There! Now people won't think Rui is being mean! Rui is my great friend!

Onii-chan... hm. Don't worry everyone, he'll realize his feelings soon enough!

..My feelings..?

Anyway, next question~! @calleigator asked, "Mr. Pegasus Tenma, what are your thoughts on the ongoing apple pie thefts and what are you going to do about it?"

The apple pie thefts? Ah, I remember you and Hoshino reporting on this! I hope the thief will stop stealing apple pies and instead be a good citizen and pay for everything that they stole!

That's a lot of money to pay considering how many pies they stole...

But stealing is no good! As the Pegasus and a world star, I should be setting a good example for all the young children out there! Everyone, if you're listening, don't steal!

Aw, you're such a good influence! That's my brother for you!

Haha! You're a great sister too, Saki!

Ahem.. "Dearest Pegasus, your light shines brighter than any other. What do you plan to do about those who melt in your presence?" - asked by @monkie-see-monkie-do!

Melt in my presence..? Ah, I see, they melt because of my greatness! Well, my marvelous fan, if you melt in my presence, no need to panic! My light revives as well as melts!

Ooh, great answer! This next question is the last one, by @closegamecamo !! "Pegasus, what are your thoughts on those fake insects at stores?"

Fake insects..? Ugh, why would you ask me that.. er, I don't even remember what they look like!

That's fine! I brought one here with me just in case!

You wha - aaAAAAAAGGH!!

Haha, Onii-chan! It's just a caterpi - ahh, he fell down!

Eek! T-Tenma-senpai..? Is he okay?

Don't worry about it, Kohane! He'll be fine.. probably..

ONII-CHAN! The interview's still going!

..urk...

Ah, maybe it's a good time to stop..

Bye everyone! I hope your questions were answered by the great and glorious star, Tenma Tsukasa, the Pegasus! Let's keep this little incident between us, 'kay? Bye bye~!

..ugh.. aah, wait! Farewell, my wonderful fa - !

[coyle-and-co]

dolly and franco as kids, i think they would’ve understood each other

pretty much the rest of this post is oc ramblings !! stick around if you find that interesting haha

So obviously i’ve stated in this post that Dolly cross dresses, but i did also say i hadn’t figured out why but now i have !!!

Dolly was born into a household with a single teen mother, his father had left once he’d found out about his existence. His mother had wanted a girl, more than anything, so when Dolly was born a boy she was ,,,, less ,,, than happy ,,, for sure …

Since there was no male figures in Dolly’s life to say otherwise, he was raised for the first 10 years of his life as a girl. He knew no better, he was dressed as one, given girls toys etc. Even learnt how to do makeup. He didn’t question a thing.

Eventually, since his mother couldn’t find a stable enough job he had to be turned over to authorities and was sent away to an overtly more than evangelical local orphanage. Everyone always said how he was rather tall for a girl, but he was naturally feminine so once again no one really questioned much about him. Aside from teasing about his misalignment in his right eye, life was peaceful enough. Until he reached his teens and then you know what bodies do around that age.

He was confused, terrified more than anything about why he wasn’t growing up like the other girls were, and tried his best to hide it, however one of the boys who’d always picked on him noticed and well..it didn’t ,,,go very well for my poor boy 💔he was beaten pretty significantly, no one knew his mother had raised him as a girl so they assumed he was some freak 😞

After that he realized he’d been lied to for pretty much his entire childhood, but now a lot of things made sense, how he never felt like a woman really, but hey, how would he know?

The next few years at the orphanage were horrible, he’d lost any friends he’d had and the staff (given the time period) weren’t very understanding, even if he had accept that he was actually a boy, he was still gay, since he’d never been interested in girls.

Up until the age of 18, he had become recluse. Spending all his time making gadgets with a tool box given to him by one of the few staff members who was actually nice to him, the grounds keeper. He spent hours watching war time films, feeling an odd affection towards the bombs and weapons used.

Of course, he’d never forgotten how he was treated by his peers, and years of that built enough resentment that he thought of just — exploding the building. and well he did, in the end. He was thrown into prison, but his talents didn’t go unnoticed by a certain group (dun dun!! murkoff…)

However, even if he no longer has to dress feminine, he still enjoys it enough and likes to feel pretty:) even if coyle gives him grief about it

anyway ,,, i hope this is as interesting to my followers as it is to me making it, i love to ramble i apologize

dolly’s my sweet boy really, he just needs a friend i think

[melosliving]

aaron pierre x actress!reader

suspect is… but it gets softer every time

It couldn’t be the worst time to do this : it was quite late, the day had just ended on another long series of interviews and photoshoots, running around to promote the new lion king movie, but here you were, giggling to yourselves as you stood in the corridors leading to your respective rooms.

"Tell me why you should be the one starting the tiktok again ?" asks Aaron, his back on one of the walls. He was still dressed in his day clothes, all in black. "Because ladies first, and you’re a gentleman are you not ?" You answered, raising an eyebrow at him playfully.

"okay, let’s do it !" you put yourselves in position, Aaron at the left and you at the right. You hold your phone up, starting to film while walking. "suspect looks like scar but wanted to be the main character." Looking back at you, aaron stops in his track, putting his hand on his mouth "wow ! that’s crazy work, ✦".

The video then cuts to you walking as you’re now seen on the screen. "Suspect swears she has the biggest back in London." He says, trying to surpass his laughter but couldn’t help it when he saw your shocked face. " you know im right ! I am confident in my arse." You say proudly.

"Suspect almost became a stepdad." You add, now filming him walking. "Wooow, really ? you want to do me dirty like this ?". This game was becoming a bit too funny. Tears were almost coming to your lash line as you laughed when reminiscing about the day he told you about one of his ex. "Suspect asked kelvin to marry her so she could have the green card."

Now, this was interesting. You stopped walking, turning to him with a guilty smile. "and DID ! I mean, he told me he would do it, so don’t be jealous…"

"suspect is a big back. Always trying to eat from my plate when he has his !" actually, this was true. With the amount of time y’all and the cast were spending together, lunches and dinners were now tradition, and overtime aaron had developed the habit of eating in both his and your plate at the same time. "I already told you, the food is better when it comes from your plate ! I don’t make rules." He retorted, his cheeks reddening a bit.

Phone in hand, aaron started to walk with you, "suspect can’t sleep without hearing my voice." he told everybody, airing out your little secret. "I do actually, I can’t help it I love your voice." You admit, looking at him with this cute frown of yours. "Suspect is really really handsome and talented." You added, smiling at aaron as he stopped walking.

"Anw, lovie.." he answered, coming towards you to hug you. Still recording, your giggles were heard as your face went in his chest as y’all were hugging. Last but not least, "suspect deserves the world, every bit of happiness that comes towards her." Finally said aaron, teeth all out as he smiled at your surprised face.

"You love me.. like I know you actually love me." You said, trying your best not to laugh as you started to pout before you took your phone back to stop the video.

#tiktok!comments

@user1 not the green card 😭

@kelvin harrison jr I always knew he wanted to be me 🙄❤️

@starsliving who wouldn’t want to be you ?🤰🏽🤱🏽

@user2 they actually look good together stop meee

@LionKing I know mufasa and sarabi have been enjoying themselves 🦁❤️

@kelvin harrison jr don’t star now. I’ll get maddd

@user3 raw (both of them). next question

@user4 it’s the height difference for me

@ starsliving everything aaron said in this tiktok is pure defamation

@aaronpierre you know you’re lying 🤥

@user5 look at how his eyes glistened when she told him he was handsome AND talented 🥹

@melosliving 2025

[sequinsmile-x]

Confetti

She didn’t think it would be this difficult.

AKA - the one where Emily takes a pregnancy test.

-x-

Hi besties,

Today was my first day back at work since 20th December and my brain is a pile of mush, so here's a fic I prepared earlier.

This is for the wonderful and very talented @eyesontheskyline who did a lot of research for her incredible fic 'reckless (just enough)' - which you should read if you haven't for some reason yet. I borrowed said research for part of this, so it only felt right to dedicate it to her <3

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: pregnancy, trying to conceive, references to infertility, mentions of blood, very minor Aaron whump I guess

Words: 2.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She wakes up first, although she isn’t sure she ever really fell asleep. She’d spent the night struggling to drift off, her chest tight with anxiety she couldn’t shift despite her best efforts. 

Normally, she’s the last to wake up. Aaron’s love of early mornings was apparently genetic so he and Jack were always awake before her. She’d wake to Aaron waking her up with a kiss against her cheek or his hand on her back, or she’d hear Jack in his room either getting ready for school or playing with his toys on a weekend.

The silence of the house unsettles her, makes her skin itch, and she blows out a breath as she rolls onto her back. She turns and smiles at her husband as his arm stays in place, warm and heavy across her hips, his face slack and his mouth slightly open. She takes the opportunity to look at him, to run her fingers through his hair and smile as it flops back onto his forehead. He looked younger like this, carefree as if nothing bad had ever happened to him, and it makes her ache, makes love fill her chest as she swears to herself she’ll do her best to make sure nothing bad ever happens to him again. She leans in to kiss his cheek, and it wakes him up. He presses his hand against her lower back and tugs her closer, his head turning so he can capture her lips with his. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles, scrunching her nose up at his morning breath but kissing him again anyway, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

“Don’t apologise,” he replies, kissing her forehead as he pulls away, his voice rough from sleep and misuse, “I like being woken up by you.” 

She hums and tucks herself up against him, rests her head against his chest so she can hear his heartbeat and anchors herself to him with her hand on his shoulder and her leg over his hip, “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

He wraps his arms around her and holds her closer, and the sound of his heartbeat drowning out the overwhelming silence of the house. He reaches for her hand and links his fingers through hers as he drops a kiss on the top of her head. 

“It’s not like you to be up first,” he says carefully, running his hand up and down her back, his fingers sneaking under a t-shirt that used to be his. He feels how she tenses in his arms, her stuttered breath passing from her chest to his, and he rubs a circle on her back, desperate to ease the anxiety he knew only one thing could. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” she replies, and it feels like an understatement. She’d laid next to him most of the night, tried to let the press of him against her and the feeling of his breath skipping across her skin lull her to sleep but it hadn’t worked. She’d drifted in and out of bouts of restless sleep as she thought of the pregnancy tests lined up in their bathroom cabinet, now familiar anxiety bubbling low in her gut as she spent the entire night trying to tell herself not to get her hopes up again. 

It had been a year since they’d started trying. They’d been engaged and married since she threw away her birth control and they said that they’d try, both of them hopeful in a way that now felt nothing short of naive. Her doctors in Paris had assured her that the damage Ian had done to her hadn’t affected her uterus, that there was no reason they could see why she couldn’t have a baby if she chose to in the future, but she couldn’t help but wonder if they were wrong. 

She didn’t think it would be this difficult. She’d fallen pregnant the first time she’d ever had sex. A few moments with a boy who was supposed to be her friend that changed her life and made her militant about birth control ever since, the harsh words of a doctor questioning her age but not her fake ID who hadn’t realised she spoke Italian still ringing around her head even now. She thought it would be easy this time too. She’d allowed herself fantasies of Aaron standing on the other side of the bathroom door as she peed on a stick and her running out with a positive test in her hands and happy tears on her cheeks. She’d imagined it all being easy because this time this was something she could want and that she could have. 

They’d had agreed that after a year they’d go to her doctor, because she knew she’d be told to try for that long anyway, and now it was here the thought made her feel sick. Nausea rolling in her belly when she thinks of taking a pregnancy test and looking at a negative result again, something that was apparently no less painful when she did it for the 11th time last month than it had been the 1st. It felt definitive, like the test she’d take today would draw a line in the sand and bring this part of their lives to a close so the next stage could take over. And she’d have to come to terms with either never having a baby, or the fact it certainly wasn’t going to be simple to have one. 

“Em-”

“I should get it over with,” she says, swallowing thickly as she sits up, a chill left in his wake as she separates herself from him and gets out of bed, not sure she could take kind platitudes from him again, “I’ll start getting ready for the day.” 

He sighs and sits up, “Em-”

“Aaron,” she says, turning to look at him, stopping him in place with tears shining in her eyes, “Please just…” she drifts off and clears her throat, smiling tightly at him as she flicks the switch for the ensuite’s light, “I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

He nods and stays put, sitting on the edge of the bed to wait her out. It’s where he sat as she did this every month, the amount of time it would take her to come out to see him getting longer each time, the look on her face somehow breaking his heart even more than it had the time before. He wanted this as much as she did, and it hurt to see how much pressure she was putting on herself as time went on. As if somehow she’d convinced herself that his love for her was conditional, that it was dependent on this one thing. He told her time and time again that she was what was important to him, that everything else would be wonderful and a bonus, but that her and her love were the things that had helped bring him back to life, that had helped him feel worthy of love again. 

Everything else was confetti - beautiful and bright with her by his side, but just strips of paper fated to dissolve in the rain without her. 

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll be right here.” 

She smiles sadly and walks over, stamping her lips against his before she walks away again, “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

She closes the door behind her and blows out a slow breath, giving herself a moment to try to centre herself before she carries on. She pulls a test out of the cabinet and wraps her hand around it tightly, screwing her eyes shut before she shakes her head at herself and heads to the toilet. Once she’s done she clips the lid on and puts it on the counter, sighing as she flushes the toilet because she knows Aaron will hear and know that the countdown is on. She actively ignores the test as she washes her hands and starts her skincare routine. 

It isn’t lost on her that close to 30 years ago she was staring at a pregnancy test and hoping for an entirely different result to what she wanted now. The process was harder then, more complicated and drawn than simply peeing on a stick, something that only added to her panic as she read the instructions again and again to make sure she did it correctly. The thirty minutes she’d had to wait for the result had been tortuous in a different way to the three she had to wait now, the time drawn out into what felt like hours as her fate felt like it had already been decided for her

She pats her face dry after washing it and reaches for her serum, and she looks down at the test despite her intentions to ignore it as long as possible, the result both what she wants and what she fears until she sees it. She gasps as she reads one single word on the digital screen, her hand coming up to her mouth to try and capture it as she drops the serum she’d been holding, the glass bottle smashing into countless pieces as it hits the tiled floor. 

Pregnant. 

She was pregnant. 

“Oh my god,” she says, picking up the test with shaky hands, holding it closer as if the result would change or she’d read it wrong, and she chokes on a sound between a laugh and a sob, relief and love and half a dozen things she can’t name rushing through her all at once. “Holy shit.” 

There’s a knock on the door just before it opens and Aaron’s already talking as he walks in. 

“Sweetheart, is everything okay? I heard something break,” he says, drifting off when he sees the tears shining in her eyes and the test in her hands. He sighs sadly, opening his arms out to comfort her, “Oh, Em I’m sorry-”

Her eyes go wide as he steps forward, “Aaron, no wait there’s glass-”

“Ow, Goddamn it,” he exclaims, hissing as he lifts his foot, blood already visible from where he’d cut himself. 

“Sorry, honey,” she says, placing the test on the counter as she steps over the glass between them. She wraps her arm around his shoulder to guide him over to the toilet and helps him sit on the closed lid, “I dropped my serum,” she says, wiping her cheeks, only aware she was still crying when she kneels in front of him, “That’s expensive stuff too.” 

He chuckles and cups her cheek, wiping away a fresh tear, “It’s okay, I think we can afford it.” 

She smiles and then winces when she looks at the sole of his foot, “It’s not deep, but it does look sore,” she says, reaching for the tweezers behind her on the counter. She raises her eyebrow and brandishes the tweezers at him, “You’re lucky I love you, I use this for my eyebrows usually.” 

“Well, I appreciate the - ow,” he exclaims, furrowing his brow as she pulls out the small shard of glass. She smiles apologetically and shrugs.

“It hurts less if you don’t know it’s coming,” she says, standing up briefly to get the first aid kit from the medicine cabinet, her eyes drifting to the positive test again for a brief moment before she kneels back in front of him, “I’ll just wrap a bandage around it for you to stop the bleeding.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, watching as she wraps it around his foot, a tender gentleness to her touch that he knows he couldn’t live without. A soft type of love she gave him and Jack without question or the expectation of getting the same in return. He so desperately wanted to watch her love a baby that was half him and half her in the same way. She smiles up at him when she’s done and he wraps his arms around her as soon as she stands up, encouraging her to sit on his lap. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek. 

“I know usually we tell Jack you have to kiss an injury to make it better,” she says, kissing his cheek again, “But I’m not kissing your foot, so you’ll have to deal with a kiss on the cheek.” 

“I’ll never say no to a kiss on the cheek from you,” he smiles and hooks his finger under her chin to turn her head to face him and he kisses her on the lips, “I’m sorry it was negative.” 

She furrows her brow, “What?” 

“The test,” he replies, “I’m sorry it was negative, and I’m sorry I stood on glass and took all the focus off of you-”

“Aaron, honey,” she says, chuckling as she cuts off his spiral, shaking her head at him because he’s the only person she knows who would apologise for standing on glass, “It isn’t negative.”

He stops, his brow knitting together in confusion, “It isn’t?”

“It isn’t,” she shakes her head and unwraps one of her arms from around his neck to get the test from the counter, “I’m pregnant.” 

He takes the test from her, his view of her and the result immediately blurry with tears, “You’re pregnant?” He says, tears slipping down his cheeks, “We’re having a baby?” 

She nods and leans forward, kissing away his tears before she rests her forehead against his, “We’re having a baby.” 

He kisses her fiercely, “I love you so much,” he kisses her again, “And I hope you know that would be true no matter what. I love you.” 

“I know,” she nods, a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob catching in her chest, “I love you too,” she kisses him again and rests her forehead against his, “We really should do something about the glass before Jack wakes up and comes looking for us.”

He nods, his forehead gently knocking against hers, “In a minute,” he says, kissing her again, entirely unable to stop himself from doing so, “Let’s just sit here for a little bit. We’ve waited a long time for this.” 

“Okay,” she says because she doesn’t want to move either, rooted to the spot in his lap, the absurdity of the fact they were having this life-changing, romantic moment whilst sitting on the closed lid of the toilet not lost on her, “Just for a little bit.” 

He kisses her temple and slips his hand onto her still flat belly, “You’re never going to let me forget that I stepped on glass and interrupted you telling me that we’re having a baby are you?” 

She shakes her head and places his hand over hers, happiness she didn’t think was possible warming her from the inside out, “Not a chance, honey.” 

[ritualofcirice]

Could we get a letter of sup-port for our dear FrauGwinska? She's a wonderful person who needs to hear just how amazing she really is. She's been nothing but a positive example in the HH Fandom, and I know I'm not the only one who can attest to that fact.

Thank you so much for doing these, by the way. It's so lovely to see people lifting others up when hate has been all to prevalent lately.

🐑 ♡ Here's one letter fresh from Sup-port, addressed one delightful author ♡ 🐑

Dear @fraugwinska,

What an honour it is to be able to write a letter to you! From electrifying Vox smut, to the carefully constructed world of Gem, you're stories intrigue and capture the hearts of those that read them.

Not only that, but you've provided a space for other writers to feel seen. You have made a space where people can go to share with others and talk amongst friends.

That's why you've been nominated for a letter! We want to give back all the support you have given us. Inside and outside of the server, we all want you to know that it is just as much a place for you to be seen, appreciated, and loved. This goes for both you and all your heartful stories. Thank you for sharing them with us, and thank you for all that you have done for the fandom!

Wishing all the best, and sending all of our love,

The Sup-port Team xo

Let's see what other letters arrived for you!

From @hazelfoureyes ♡

Mein Frauchen, very often I read things that make me feel inadequate as a writer. Several times it was things you’ve written, you talented bitch (I love you). I know good art doesn’t always get the recognition it deserves, but I hope you truly believe me when I say you’re skilled in many areas and your efforts are always appreciated. The first time I read your work I almost got too intimidated to talk to you anymore haha but I did! Somehow! ♡ I’m unsure how to lift your spirits, but please know no matter how you choose to exist in our fandoms we all share together that we are better for your presence.

From @macabr3-barbi3 ♡

"Frau is one of the most genuine and heartfelt people I have ever met- she was one of the first people in the Hazbin fandom to welcome me, which was honestly wild because I was already a fan of Method to Madness and was just baffled that she was not only such an amazing writer, but an amazing person all around. When we started chatting after a frankly mortifying initial interaction on my part, I was so happy to find that we were so similar and that she was so fun to talk to and conspire with. So many of my ideas have come from the inspiration she brings me, as a fellow writer and as a friend. She is endlessly patient, empathetic to a degree I've never seen, and so so so supportive and encouraging of everyone that she interacts with in the servers we share. She is funny and charismatic and sweet, and I've grown closer to her faster than I've ever bonded with another person before. It hurts to know sometimes that she doesn't see herself the way that myself and so many others in the Hazbin community see her- an integral and important part of the fanfiction community and in all of our lives. It is one of my greatest privileges in life to not only be here to support her writing and her work but to call her one of my absolute best friends, and I can't wait to see how much further she grows."

From @kewpikayo ♡

Kindness. Warmth. Inspiration, A powerhouse of talent and a genuine soul. Those words, among countless more positive things, are but a taste of who Mama Frau is. I may have only known Frau since the latter part of 2024 but I can just tell she is the type of person who would travel oceans for people just to let them know she cares. She is so sweet, a motherly soul, and so very creatively inclined. To say I appreciate her is a complete understatement. She is a treasure, a precious “Gem”, and to know her is such a gift. The way she weaves her stories with intricate detail and just enough suspense to keep her audience’s intrigue is commendable and a remarkable skill. I am thankful beyond compare for you, Mama Frau. And I am so excited to get to know you even more as we walk further into 2025 and many years to come hugs

From @startissuu ♡

"Stop being so darn pretty before Chef is forced to travel to Germany and get down on one knee"

Tagging Backup:

@melodyonthewireless, @tarokitsu, @bapple117, @redvexillum, @redfoxwritesstuff, @minkdelovely, @hyuccubus, @reinthechaosdeer, @jurijyuu, @primsgirl89, @dewdropdinosaur, @xalygatorx, @6esiree, @lumikello24

Want To Write A Personal Letter?

Frau's official Sup-port tag is #fromsup-port2fraugwinska

♡ Is it your first time picking up mail at Sup-port? Find out what we're about here ♡

[ravenstargames]

Hi!! I'm unsure if you guys will see this, but after reading your 2024 wrap-up I wanted to send some well-wishes for the future!! ^^

I've always been more of a lurker, but I just wanted to say you guys inspired me to pick up on my drawing and writing again. I'm especially a sucker for worldbuilding, and your whole idea with limbo has honestly gotten my creative juices going! I can definitely see you have created the world and characters with a lot of love and attention, something that I aspire to do as well.

For what it's worth, I'm so so glad you guys were able to power through your rough start and that you are here today, not only as the devs of what might become my favourite vn, but also as a fantastic team of talented and brave people to enrich the storytelling scene! I believe it takes a lot of courage to put oneself out there for the world to see(especially as first time devs!!), but I honestly think that despite some little accidents you guys have done very well, and can't wait to see more of what your galaxy brains will come up with.

I'm happy and proud to see your dream slowly but steadily become a reality, and as I did with kickstarter, I'll be thrilled to continue supporting you when the game comes out 💕

That's it for my little appreciation message, sending you guys a lot of hugs and cookies!!

Anon.........

I just wanted to say that we read ALL your asks. Every single one of you who spends time sending us encouraging words, sharing your experiences with us—we read all of you. We have 457 (and counting) asks in the ask box so we may take a while to reply, but please know that your words matter a lot to us.

This was such a beautiful read. I'm so happy to know you've found the will to draw and write again, and I hope you can enjoy it and be proud of what you do. Knowing we've inspired you to pick it up again is the best compliment we could ever receive, and as I always say, we promise to keep working hard even if we make mistakes!

Remember that creating is the greatest expression of the human soul! 💜

[myokk]

“She’s tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me”😤😤😤

(Regency AU with Eloise and Sebastian inspired by my slow trek through Bridgerton these days & @bassicallymaestra ‘s AMAZING regency inspired art😮‍💨😇🙏)

[pearlcaddy]

lockwood carrying the skull lucy's burdens

LOCKWOOD & CO. 1.06

[astranauticus]

link click yingdu ep 1 is truly the gift that keeps on giving the more you think about it the more layers you unlock. at first i thought the 'video call with phone in shirt pocket' trick is a pretty effective way of replicating their dives with like.. normal human technology without their powers and then i realised that's probably because lu guang specifically thought 'this is a situation that would call for a dive except cheng xiaoshi doesn't know about the whole time travel powers thing yet, what would be a good and reasonable approximation of that that i can spring on him rn'. also, we know this is not the first time he's experiencing this day because he was checking the clock before he proposed the whole video call phone camera thing, implying that he had the 'script' for this day just like he did with the anime convention, but even then he could only warn cheng xiaoshi about the guy behind him with the bat right before he was about to get hit - probably because cheng xiaoshi kept 'doing unnecessary actions' and messing up the timeline/lu guang's 'script' and forcing him to improvise. once again, lu guang's trying to protect cheng xiaoshi while also hiding information from him and cheng xiaoshi's failing to follow lu guang's instructions and putting himself in danger because of his own kindness and impulsivity - their entire dynamic moving forwards, captured in their first (arguably more like.. the 0th) 'job' together.

[manderleyfire]

– Your problem is you're scared. If you had any courage, we wouldn't be in this mess. Who gives a shit what other people think? – What are you talking about? – You know what I'm talking about.

The Ballad of Jack and Rose (2005), Dir. Rebecca Miller

[lemongogo]

j need to get back into life drawing post haste