#asking combo organ.....

[1978-combo-organ]

hey i hope this isnt weird but i love ur tati art and her character design !!! do u have designs for any other abimers? /nf

throws them at you

[rainbowfoam]

Was this on purpose or?

IT IS NOW

[koqabear]

i hope no one takes this the wrong way bc its got no ill intent but- ive never viewed writers as writing machines (nobody should!!) and more often than not i expect them to get stuck sometimes , not because im undermining them or anything, but idk a lot of writers (at least ones i interact with) are uni students like me so i feel like its just the norm to get writers block and/or periods of procrastination, in fact, i hope any writers going thru that rn don't pressure themselves too hard to write ☹️ you on the other hand... 😭 i definitely do not view u as a machine or writing generator do not get me wrong,, but u definitely are SO big brained and creative the way you post formatted fics at such a consistent rate and they're all so well thought of,, none of them are what i would consider basic in terms of trope n plot. swear it feels like mini novel after mini novel lol

this is meant to be a compliment of how on top of the game u are ,, not trying to put you on a pedestal and put the pressure on & overwhelm u!!

this differntiates u from other writers in the best way possible. not sure if u are familiar with nctblr writers but on the top god tier untouchable level of tumblr writers lies you n neopuppy ☺️ i mentally have an organization system i associate writers with, and although its not necessarily a ranking or hierarchy, that tier is the only "tier" there is that i consider above everyone else whom i don't "rank" in anyway, but rather group and categorize based on writing styles n content! yall just stand out that much :')

idk if this made any sense im sick n i just took a nyquil thats starting to kick in T_T apologies this ask is kinda messy n ugly

-dvp anon🫡

OHHHH???! THIS IS SO -@;!:@:! ??!!!!! SUCH AN INSANE (/pos) THING TO SAY IM A LITTLE SPEECHLESS RN??

i feel like the reason i’ve been posting so much is bc i’ve been on break and i’ve been trying to take advantage of this free time i have! once classes start i’m scared that i won’t have as much time/opportunities to write, so that’s kinda why i’ve been jumping on like. every idea i get ever. (but then again, i realize now that throughout this year i was able to handle both my assignments and fics. i’m a little weird sorry.)

but omg. you can’t say stuff like that to me like ofc i’m familiar with nctblr writers 😭😭😭 you thinking that i belong anywhere near the tier neopuppy is at is a little insane to me my jaw dropped when i read that alsndks

i hope you rest and get better soon!!! thank you for unleashing such an insane compliment on me omgldjsk

[lunarscaled]

"---No, my final request was for water. Not to fuck someone, thanks."

-> If they were in less completely debilitating pain they might have had enough energy to laugh at their own joke. It was the least they could do for themselves, since their outcome was starting to look pretty bleak; this guy was as pissed off as anyone could get with no cracks in the composure. It wasn't the same as dealing with someone like Kaigaku, who Lyric knew with a strange familiarity ( he was like looking at a warped mirror of themselves, that was why. desperate to be seen, desperate for the approval of someone strong, desperate to be strong to protect himself. all his posturing faltered if they took awake their attention for even a moment because loneliness was a greater fear once you had known a comforting presence. ) This guy was pissed---enough to kill them, too. Unlike anyone else they've encountered so far he seemed hard set on doing it and doing it painfully, and Lyric ( hunched against one thick trunked tree for support, an arm clutching their abdomen. a scalding gash on one side that stings between their fingers. if they had prepared better would it have come to this? that sword they never knew how to use right is practically a paperweight to them now. what the hell kind of magic would halt a guy who could electrocute your insides? ) His voice is the kind of grating anger that they hated in men. Reminded them too much of their own father in the midst of his fury, too much of losing control, but funny enough both of those things seemed true in some way now. They try to take a slow, long breath. Their lungs respond with sharp protests.

"What family?"

-> They almost want to laugh again. The way he talks makes them wish they almost had something worth losing. Anything.

"What friends? You think anyone knows my name? Who I am?"

-> The prerogative was that what you don't have can't be used against you, but when they think about it now it rings hollow. Now it just meant dying alone, painfully, somewhere were no one would find them. They muster up the focus on anything other than breathing to stare back at him: vibrant orange that bores right into ruby rage with not a scrap of fear of someone else. If he thinks he's doling out punishment, they're taking it all for themselves.

"You don't even know my name. How can it be worth all that effort to put out a nobody?"

-> Try to think of something that gets you out of being killed. Appeals, bargains, spells, wit. The heel of their boot scrapes through the soil as they try to bend one leg to get enough leverage to change their slumped sitting angle. ( they weren't getting very far on their bruised body and current injuries. )

"---Can't you just let me run off like a coward? Is this really worth your effort? You seem like a uh... important demon. I'm sure you have better things to do."

@fallesto from asks ( 1, 2, 3 )

[taylorman2274]

We Care About You (Part IV)

Your attempts to cater to their needs only leave them confused and concerned. However, just when you think of giving up, more barriers are broken.

Content Warning(s): Xiao Story Quest Spoilers; Liyue Archon Quest Act IV Spoilers

Notes: SAGAU; GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Previous || Next

Taglist: @silverstarred; @victoria1676; @angelofdarkness2; @areaderspov; @andromeda-gay; @ash1; @mercy-not-merci; @toodledoodl3; @jellyedkazoo; @namine123; @innuwu; @agaygothicmushroom;

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When Genshin finally finished loading, you found your player character back where you originally left them before you were forced unconscious; in the bustling streets of Chihu Rock. The first thing you noticed was the red exclamation marks over the Paimon Menu, Events Menu, and Battle Pass Menu. However, you saw these exclamation marks nearly every time you logged on to Genshin, so you weren't surprised.

What does surprise you is that so far, everything appears to be... normal.

The Traveler was currently doing one of their idle animations, the NPCs were all in their familiar spots, and the leaves were subtly floating to the ground...

You began to grow suspicious.

You moved the Traveler one step to the left, cutting off their idle animation. They moved as you expected. Then you moved them right. Then up. Then down.

You looked at their face. They were staring back at you with lifeless eyes.

"But they're not lifeless..." you commented.

Next, you opened up the preceding menus. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. Even Paimon was doing her usual shtick.

Finally, you turned the Traveler away from your gaze and had them walk a few steps forward. You had them perform their normal attack combo. No signs of restraint were noticeable.

"...I guess everything is as normal as possible," you noted. "I'll still do everything I promised myself I would do. I don't want to be deceived by false appearances."

You opened the party setup and began to remove everyone from your party aside from the Traveler. You had decided that since nobody specifically asked the Traveler to join them on their travels, you should only use the Traveler from now on. Sure, that may make things harder for you, but you were willing to take on the extra challenge if it meant that everybody was happy.

However, as much as you would prefer to avoid it, you knew that fighting enemies was inevitable. You were just going to need to be extra careful while fighting to make sure that the Traveler doesn't get hit.

"It's almost like I'm doing a no-hit challenge," you chuckled.

Lastly, you were going to take your time doing long quests such as Archon and Story quests. You figure that doing so many quests in a short amount of time would be tiring to the Traveler. Especially with how grueling some of them can be.

With that being said, you took the time to quickly organize the pages of notes on your side before setting off to the first commission of the day, conveniently in Liyue Harbor of all places.

...By walking, of course. Strictly walking while inside cities should be the norm from now on.

---------------------------------------------------------

The Traveler was nearly quivering in excitement.

The adrenaline rush that they got when they realized [Y/N] was back in Teyvat made them all hyper and focused. They were ready to do anything and everything with you. They wanted to sprint across the widest plains; climb atop the tallest mountains; and fight against the strongest enemies.

However, they have learned before that they need to be patient.

Over time, they have come to realize many patterns that you have while guiding them throughout Teyvat. One of these patterns was that you normally started working on the daily commissions first.

So they were a little surprised when the first thing you did was move them around, almost like you were testing to see if they would still follow your guidance.

"You don't have to worry about that, [Y/N]," they thought. "I'll always be here for you."

Not to worry though, [Y/N] went ahead and guided them to all the places where the commissions took place afterward. However, there were some things that they noticed while they were completing them.

The commissions involving the common folk and the time challenges went about the same way. It was the fighting commissions that had them asking questions.

What was the best way to describe it...? They still had no problem defeating the enemies, don't get them wrong, but they noticed that you seemed to be a little more... cautious?

Normally, [Y/N] would have them rush in and start swinging. Sure, this was reckless at times, and got themselves hit a couple of times, but that was honestly the fighting style that they were most accustomed to. However, this time they noticed that for whichever enemies they were fighting, they would focus on one at a time and balance an attack with a couple of dodges whenever their opponent attempted to strike back.

Furthermore, they also noticed that they were the only ones fighting. They know that [Y/N] is capable of guiding at most four people at once. So why were they only using them?

"Perhaps I can ask Paimon whenever [Y/N] leaves." they thought.

Not that they wanted you to leave, no no no. You had just come back to Teyvat after a whole week! They wanted to make up for lost time.

"If I counted right, that's all the commissions for today. Just got to visit Kathryne and then we can continue with our day. I wonder what we will get to do today. Are we gonna do some exploring? Fight amongst the ley lines? Meet up with old friends? I can't wait!"

They waited for their exchange with Kathryne to end so they could get back to your guidance. But suddenly, they began to feel themselves gaining control over their body.

...Wait.

... ... ...

Oh no...

...No...

No. No. No. No. NO! NO! NO! NO!

They know this feeling all too well. It was their least favorite part of the day.

...It was when you left Teyvat.

Just as their fears were confirmed, they gained control over their body again. Horrified, they quickly looked up at Celestia and prayed to the Archons that what was happening wasn't real.

Unfortunately, the light from Celestia came and went. [Y/N] was gone...

"Aww, already?" Paimon groaned, appearing out of thin air. "Paimon thought that [Y/N] would stay just a little bit longer."

The Traveler's eyes never left Celestia. They were holding on to the slim hope that the light would return. That [Y/N] would come right back and continue our adventures.

...But it never came.

"Hey, Traveler. Are you alright? You haven't moved in a while."

The Traveler finally took their eyes away from Celestia and sadly looked at Paimon. "I was so happy that [Y/N] came back. I was looking forward to spending all day with them. But in the end, they were only here for a few hours."

Paimon solemnly nodded. "Yeah, Paimon gets where you're coming from. But Paimon also says not to worry! It isn't often that [Y/N] leaves after completing the daily commissions. Maybe this is a one-time thing?"

The Traveler gave it some thought. They suppose that what Paimon is saying is true. There's no guarantee that this will happen again tomorrow.

Their mood picked up. "You're right, Paimon. Hopefully, we get to adventure with [Y/N] longer tomorrow."

Paimon smiled. "That's the spirit! Trust Paimon when she says that everything is going to be alright!"

---------------------------------------------------------

Time Skip

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...

... ...

... … …

...Three days...

It's been three days since [Y/N] first came back to Teyvat. They have since come back every day afterward.

...Three days...

It's been three days of completing commissions...

...And nothing else.

...Three days...

It's been three days since the Traveler realized that they were the only person [Y/N] used in their "adventure team".

They still remember how heartbroken Amber was when they met her.

"It wasn't something I did, was it?" she fretted with sorrowful eyes.

"Of course not!" they reassured, "You've done nothing wrong!"

However, they could tell that their words were not effective at uplifting the normally bright and cheerful outrider.

Now, [Y/N] was guiding them back to Kathryne again. Most likely the end of another day together.

... ... …

...No.

"I REFUSE!"

Going against [Y/N]'s guidance, they stopped in place. They were not going to let [Y/N] leave this time! They felt a couple of forceful nudges from [Y/N] but they were going to hold their ground for as long as it takes.

"No more commissions, [Y/N]. Let's go back to before. Explore Teyvat! Go fishing! Search for my sibling! Just don't leave again!"

...

... ...

... … …

...-hy?

..."Huh?"

"What di- ... -o wrong?"

"Is that...?" they wondered.

"I thought ... was doing ... -thing right?"

"[Y/N]?"

"I've done all the things that match their preferences. I've removed all the people who have jobs that prioritize their duties over adventuring; I've been careful while fighting enemies; I've even been spending as little time as possible to conserve their energy. So why are they still unhappy?

...So that's what has been the issue.

They wanted to tell you everything that was on their mind. But they couldn't bypass the restriction placed upon them.

This restriction in particular involved speaking freely towards [Y/N]. From what they understand, they are never able to say anything while being guided by [Y/N]. Instead, Paimon does most of the talking.

They still don't know much about it.

"...Maybe I'm not cut out for this after all. I should've known better..."

They didn't need to be told what that meant for the future.

After hearing that last sentence, they fought as hard as they could to break the speaking restriction, to tell [Y/N] something, anything, to stop them from leaving.

When they gained the slightest control over their body, they shouted: "[Y/N]! Wait! Don't leave!"

However, it didn't appear that they even heard them. Furthermore, they instantly felt a painful shock rush through their body. Punishment for breaking the rules.

The shock brought them to the ground, and they were in too much pain to notice the light from Celestia. And from what they had to guess, potentially for the last time.

"Traveler!" Paimon screamed, immediately floating down to nudge their body. "Quick! Get up! Get up! We've got to do something or else [Y/N] will be gone forever!"

Slowly but steadily, the Traveler brought themselves to their feet. They felt more defeated than ever. "It's too late, Paimon... I couldn't stop [Y/N] from leaving... It's all my fault."

Paimon was quick to shake her head. "Don't say that! You already know that we've never been able to talk with [Y/N] in the past."

"That still doesn't change the fact that [Y/N] is probably gone forever. They're never coming back."

Paimon frowned. She hadn't seen the Traveler like this since they met their sibling with Dainsleif. But as much as she wanted to cheer the Traveler up, she needed to find a way to reach [Y/N]. She quickly used all of her brain juice to come up with a solution.

"Paimon has an idea! Why don’t we ask Zhongli for help? He did assist us last time.”

The Traveler let out a weak, sad chuckle. “I doubt even Zhongli would know what to do in this scenario.”

---------------------------------------------------------

"I may know something we can do."

"Really?!" "You do?!" Both Paimon and the Traveler exclaimed respectively.

They really should stop doubting the capabilities of this man.

"I have no guarantee that this will work," explained Zhongli, "but I'm curious to see the results. I believe you two are familiar with the adepti art 'dream trawling'?"

"Mhm," Paimon nodded, "We were with Xiao when he had us perform it."

"I see. That will make things easier to understand," Zhongli remarked, closing his eyes. "If [Y/N] won't come to Teyvat anymore..."

His eyes opened, filled to the brim with determination. "We'll simply have to extend them an invitation."

---------------------------------------------------------

Author Side Notes: Sorry this took so long to get out. I was struggling with how I wanted to write this.

Additionally, I've felt like my writing is lacking with descriptors. I feel like I keep saying words like 'said', 'asked', and 'nodded' a lot, especially in the last chapter. I've gone back and edited as much of it as I could.

I want to do my best to write all of these characters so I feel pretty bad whenever I'm unable to properly describe a character's thoughts or emotions. Maybe it's something that I'll get better at as I continue writing.

[cuntressgoingdigital]

free palestine! click this link for more info + dono links

rich! abby who spoils you like her little princess. she has so much money and no one else to spend it on. so why not spend it on her beautiful girlfriend whom she loves more than anything in the world? 

you mention breaking the strap on your favorite pair of shoes? new designer pair on your doorstep the very next day. she catches you online shopping? fill up your cart and use her card. after a few years of dating you’re running out of closet space so she buys a whole new condo with a walk in closet just for you. 

you’re at a restaurant or bar, she doesn’t even let you look at the bill. and trust this girl is taking you to the most luxurious spots in town! 

need your hair and nails done? she’s venmoing you for the cost plus an extra hundred with a transaction note that says:

get yourself something to eat on me <3

she asks you to pick one place, anywhere in the world, that you want to vacation to. the moment you answer she’s already buying tickets and organizing an itinerary. 

it was the second night you were there, sitting in the bathroom putting the finishing touches on your hair and makeup when you notice abby was pacing around, clearly anxious. 

“you okay, baby?” 

she comes around behind you and wraps her arms around your waist. for a moment she just stares at your reflection in the mirror, completely in awe. 

“you’re so beautiful.” she softly kisses your cheek.

you couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. “so you’ve said at least a hundred times tonight.”

she was already dressed in her grey button up vest combo and slacks she had forgotten to get tailored before you two left. she felt stiff and stuffy in the outfit, but you had requested a fancy dinner and she intended to deliver. 

“fuck, okay i can’t take it anymore” she releases you from her grasp. “hold on, i got you a gift. stay here and close your eyes.” she practically runs off into the other room and you hear her shuffling through her bags. 

you raise an eyebrow, unsure of exactly where this was going, but oblige, nonetheless. “abby, can’t it wait until after dinner?”

"no!" she shouts back.

you couldn’t fathom what that girl had stowed away for you. she had peeked over your shoulder while you were looking for a new necklace earlier that week, so you could only assume that’s what it was. 

this was by far the most nervous abby had ever been in her life. every situation paled in comparison to this moment. 

“okay, turn around and open.” 

when your eyes flutter open, you see her awkwardly bent down on one knee. the sight wouldn’t have been so funny if it weren’t for the full suit with no shoes. 

for the rest of the trip, everywhere you went she couldn’t stop saying “me and my fiancée”.

when you eventually have the wedding ceremony she’s sparing no expense for her baby. want a destination wedding? you got it. custom designer gown? of course. live band, open bar, and a guest list of however many people you can think of. 

anything for her fiancée wife. 

just wanted to write something silly and fluffy! reqs are open :)

[bluejeanstrash]

tags: boyfriend! seungcheol x reader, just a little light-hearted fluff of seungcheol being a dramatic whiny baby when he’s sick, mentions of dry scalp and skin picking lol, seungcheol is very whiny | wc: 742

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

a classic cough and cold combo paired with a side of fever-related aches and pains — that was the diagnosis, not the life-threatening illness seungcheol was sure he’d contracted. he’d tried convincing you it was fast-spreading. like really fast. like it has taken over his body and has been shutting down his organs one by one for the past 6 hours fast.

‘i’m going to die. it’s not a joke anymore. i seriously feel like i’m going to die’ he tugs at the hem of your t-shirt as you clear up the mountain of tissues on the left bedside table, and then tugs again while you’re clearing up a pile of dishes on the right.

you sigh, ignoring him, and disappear into the kitchen to reappear with a fresh bowl of hot chicken soup ‘seungcheol, we’ve been over this already. you’re not going to die’

‘forget it! just get me my will. i have to make some last-minute changes’ he asks for it dramatically, draping a limp arm over his eyes.

‘you don’t have a will’ you blow on the hot soup in quick bursts before feeding him a spoonful.

‘ugh, never mind. it’s fine’ the will talk is waved off with a quick fan of the hand to make way for what he says next ‘they give everything to the spouse anyway. wait, do they?’

‘i don’t know, and we’re not married’ you remind him, stirring the hot liquid so the shredded chicken, his favourite part, rises to the top.

‘god, you’re right’ he sits up a little straighter and grabs your free hand, suddenly somber ‘do you take choi seungcheol to be your lawf-’

you force-feed him another spoonful to shut him up, a bit of it spilling onto the quilted blanket. the soup must’ve still been too hot because he lets out a little cry, whining, though it’s entirely possible he’s overreacting.

‘you’re not taking this seriously, i’m actually dying’

‘you’re not’

‘what do you know! you’re not a doctor!’ he grumbles, taking a moment to tell you he really likes the soup and really really appreciates you making it for him before continuing to rant.

‘yeah, and what about the actual doctor we called who said you’re not?’

‘he doesn’t know anything either, that hack. the people on the internet’ he picks up his phone from the bed, showing you a screenshot from some site you’re pretty sure is for hypochondriacs to confirm each other’s delusions, and taps on the screen ‘have told me i have less than 24 hours left. 24. 24!’

‘seungcheol, i can’t have this conversation with you anymore. seriously. you need to go to sleep’ you put the empty bowl aside, straightening, and then pulling the blanket up to cover him.

‘no, no, don’t leave. i want lap time’ he pouts, baby-talking his way into his third one of the day. you sit back down on the bed with a sigh as he repositions himself to lay on your lap, wriggling his head around until he’s comfy. your fingers slowly comb through his hair, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp to soothe him. in a slightly gross but domestic act, you pick a few bits of flaky skin out of his unwashed hair, flicking them away. you should wash it for him later, you think. he’d like that.

seungcheol always found the sensation of you picking at his scalp strangely comforting, and surprisingly quite sleep-inducing. minutes pass without a single sound.

it’s quiet. finally. or so you think.

‘if i die, you can’t date anyone for the next 10 years. at least’

‘what?!’ you jerk your thighs up, pushing him off your lap ‘10 years? you’re crazy’

he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

‘i was just being nice. you shouldn’t date anyone ever, but ohmygod, i can’t believe you want to be with someone else’ he presses his fingers to his temples, suddenly coming down with a headache.

‘so let me get this straight’ he continues ‘you’re telling me when i die tomorrow-’

‘you won’t’

‘-when i die tomorrow, you’re going to bring some other man to my funeral?!’ his cheeks now hot with a shade of distressed pink.

you’re not sure where he’s got that from but you’ve had enough. you get up, grabbing the bowl, and look him straight in the eye, pinching his cute little cheeks ‘well, it’s a good thing you’re not dying then’

you walk out, leaving him right there on the bed, hot and most definitely cold.

[yourcutelittlegayfriend]

✧✦✧ Chapter 3 ✧✦✧

Hello Father, Die

Warning this part contains: Cursing, Hallucinations (Schizophrenia maybe), mentions and descriptions of a noose, Murderous and Violent thoughts, Trauma Triggers (MC's), Dark Themes(not the settings btw) and Typos&Badwriting Combo.

Note: a bit long fic that was supposed to be short, this is more of the relationship between Bruce and MC as well as a special pov from someone after this it'll be short shots with the rest of the family unless-

MASTERLIST Pages ↻ 2 , 4....➣

Now Playing

↻◁ ||▷↺Sucker - Markus King (Arcane) ılıılıılılılıılıılı

✧✦✧✦✧

���✦✧✦✧

It's suffocating.......

Everything is choking me.....

Death clings to me like my own skin as I walk along the bloody trench I dig by myself.

Every hand from my past and other life reaches out and tugs onto my skin and soul begging for another chance.

but not this time.

My light at the end of this long unwinding tunnel is just beyond reach.

I won't stop until I get what I want, I won't until I get what I deserve.

As the stormy night passes by Gotham, I wake up to my new bed that Alfred prepared me last night.

I begged Alfred to let me stay near him so he gave in and fixed up a guest room near his own quarters, a good decision on my part that's for sure.

A room far away from my old bedroom and a safer one closer to Alfred, a slight change that I hope won't fuck up the reset.

Looking around I observe the barren room and walls, just a few pieces of furniture, a bed, a shelf, and a door to a medium size toilet and bathroom.

'Better get fixed up, We're hungry' they poke my back as I see a towel placed conveniently by the knob of the open bathroom door.

Nodding my head as I hummed in agreement before entering and closing the door.

✦✧✦

Heading out, I quickly trace back my way into the kitchen and see Alfred whipping up something on the marbled counter with a few cups and bowls scattered around yet in an organized and clean manner.

Walking up I stare at the ingredients on what I could guess would be the breakfast for the other one inhabiting this 'house'.

I see them peek out their head from the corner of the counter and poke the bowls pretending to be like a cat while words scribble at the ingredients like 'yummy' or 'bleugh-'

I stood at the ledge since I was back to being my kid size, only my eyes reaching the top of the surface and silently watching Alfred prepare, it didn't take him less than a minute to notice me but I could see him slightly tensing when he look into the corner of his eyes.

'Never the jumpiest in the family before' they say as tilt their head behind Alfred's shoulder as the word 'Jumpy' flashes at the back of the butler's form.

"Good morning, Mr. Alfred". I quietly said to him as I shifted my attention to the whirling electric mixers that were mixing the pancake batter.

"Good morning as well Young Master". He returned my greetings before turning the mixer and properly faced me.

"May I ask hold long have you been waiting there?". He wonders as he picks up the metal bowl and turns to fire up the stove.

"More than 5 minutes, I'm used to waking up early Mr. Alfred". I tell him as I observe him, hearing him hum before I continue to watch him and get lost in my daydream.

'Since I missed meeting Bruce I'd wonder when he'll pop up now' I wondered before a loud scratching record screech on my ear made me wince and the hairs on my neck stood up as I heard them whisper frantically.

'He's here! run run run run run runrunrunrunRUNRUNRUN GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GO AWAY GO AWAY GO AWAY-!' They scream and yell as their voice pounded on the walls and the shadows swirl around the room I see their polished leather shoes rounding the entryway in the corner of my eye then everything vanishes by the sound of his voice.

"Alfred, Is -oh". I hear him behind me as I watch Alfred side-eye my form before moving his sight to the figure behind me who by the sound of his reaction probably notices me quickly.

"Good morning Master Bruce, Breakfast shall be done in 10 minutes but for now-". He greets him slowly moving towards me and lays a hand on my shoulder.

"I believe you have someone who needs your attention this morning". Alfred finishes -his words making us scoff in my head- as he gently turns me to look at 'him'.

'Traitor' they snarl at Aflred before hiding behind me with a swish 'His Attention? let's see how long that fucking last' they grumble as they wrap their arms around my waist.

Finally looking at him I fought within myself not to jump on his face and slap the daylights out of him-

Many things are scribbled on his face, his whole features are crudely crossed out, large and pointy horns stood above his head longer than the ones on his cowl, a large drawing of a sick grin over his mouth and crosses on his eyes as many things, horrible things floated around him like a halo yet a big fucking 'SUCKER' was written behind his head as I see 'them' perched on his shoulders tying what looks to be a large noose around his neck.

'Hello Father' they giggled before their voice venomously spit out 'Die' as they pulled the rope up and-'

Quickly blinking it away I stare back at him again not saying a thing with a light tired frown on my face, studying his face one more time as I move my eyes to his also tired ones that have a little bit of eyebags under, his wrinkled skin on his forehead and corner of the eye despite being on his younger adult version.

'Guess trauma is a motherfucker'

I look away from him and greet him quietly not wanting to look at him no more longer than a minute.

"Hello, Mr. Wayne" I whispered and stared at Alfred's pants and the marble flooring respectively.

I hear him sigh and feel him lower down to my height as I hear him reply back a greeting.

"Hello and.......who might you be?". He asks as I peek back and see him on one of his knees as he tilts his head.

"-......- " I only stare at him before whispering my name and turn away again but move as far as I can and stand by the other side of the island and hide behind.

I can hear the two adults talk behind me but I ignore them anyway and close my eyes.

'Bruce Wayne, my biological father, my real father, he........I know in myself that he was never a 'bad' father, I knew because he cares about the rest of his ward or adopted children but in all of my life has he never gone through most of those with me'

My hands tremble as I feel them wrap theirs around mine as they whisper to me 'He's a poor sucker, let him go'.

'He wasn't abusive or anything but he never was there for me, it's either he's never enough or I was never enough, All I asked of him was to love me, I never wanted to be a robin or batgirl, I never wanted to be the best, I never wanted to be anything more but his child'

'It's fine, he can kill us again if he wants to' They said as their hands cupped my face and tilted it up I saw their face clearly and their pearly white shark smile widened on their lips.

Because We're already dead inside 

✧✦✧✦✧

✧✦✧✦✧

Hope this ain't that dark

[softfem-dom]

xmen2000!logan with telepath teen!reader headcanons

✰ okay so, think back to Logan on his first days at the School.

✰ he acted like a surly cat that refuses to accept affection. Side-eyeing everything and everyone, not listening to anyone, scoffing and scowling, rolling his eyes, and being a massive dick.

✰ (he was just pissed because he had to stay in a damn school out of all places until those freaks that wore superhero suits deemed it 'safe enough' for him to go back home).

✰ so he just limits himself to walk around the hallways with a scowl and a cigar between his lips, bringing the heavy smoke of cigar with him everywhere he went.

✰ and, oh, cue you turning the corner a little quickly and bumping into him.

✰ Logan just grunts when you bump into him, holding the cigar between his lips with his teeth as his hands reach up to grab your arms and make sure you won't fall.

✰ a beat of silence. you blinking like someone had just flashed you with a flashlight in the face. and then your eyes start to tear up.

✰ and Logan freaks out big time. Confused and panicked as to having just made a random ass student cry.

✰ I'm talking wide eyes and frantically looking around in search of someone's arms to shove you into and away from him.

✰ cue Scott that was just walking by and suddenly gets the wind knocked out of his lungs because Logan pretty much shoved you into his arms.

✰ "fucking do somethin', slim" he said.

✰ spoiler: he turned around and walked away as quickly as he could without giving poor Summers a chance.

✰ and all the while he's mentally cursing himself beacuse making a kid cry is one thing those little shits will cry about anything, but making a teenager cry is another one (given their usually complicated relationship towards tears and vulnerability)

✰ skip to two days later when Jean finally manages to get him alone and it turns out you're a telepath that still doesn't know how to control their powers.

✰ and Logan's like "and?" cue the nasty wolverine bombastic side-eye and quirked eyebrow combo

✰ and and your telepathic abbilities consist of, amongst a few other things, read memories through contact.

✰ and then Logan's like "oh" and Jean is like "yes" and he's like "oh. oh shit"

✰ because he basically, accidentally and unknowingly, flashed a teenager with probably the most gruesome and traumatic war memories known to man.

✰ so now he's just like awkwardly eyeing you out of the corner of his eye anytime he spots you in a room because "damn how much did she see fuck"

✰ and he doesn't know the sheer extent of it until you wake up in your room feeling like you were about to puke your organs out and Logan wakes up just from the stench of your fear that he could smell from a floor away.

✰ it doesn't come as a surprise when he hears a shaky knock on his door and opens it up to the sight of you (paler than a damn ghost) looking like you might faint right there.

✰ "messed up shit, ain'it?" was what Logan groaned, voice raw with sleep, before stepping back and tilting his head as a sign to let you in.

✰ cue the protocol "what did'ya see, bub?" as he rubbed his thumb across your forehead to wipe the cold sweat there.

✰ cue to you looking at him with the most 100-yard-stare eyes he had ever seen and asking. "..where were his legs-?"

✰ and Logan just about chokes on air beacuse what the actual fuck. Staring down at you with his eyebrows up to his hairline.

✰ ellaborating on it, turns out your nightmare had offered you a perfect five stars third-person look into one of his memories in the trenches. The one when he was trying to calm down, sush, a young man crying for his mother on the middle of a gunfire because his legs had gotten blown off. the dude didn't make it.

✰ After that one, Logan simply grimaced "oof, tough one to see, kid" before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to his chest. His chin on top of your head.

✰ "ya wanna stay w'me?" he didn't even look down, didn't need to do it in order to feel the way you immediately nodded your head. "alright, down we go" and pulling you down to the bed with him.

✰ he didn't have the strenght to look you in the eyes though, keeping you under his eyeline and cuddled up to his side.

✰ needless to say this routine repeated itself few times a week.

[1978-combo-organ]

Are you gay??? Hmmmmmmm??

do NOT ask me this you twink boy ive seen you you are a gay gay twink you kiss boys in real time ive SEEN IT. IVE SEEN IT WITH MY OWN TWO EYES. you are in LOVE with BOYS you love them so much its nauseating.

[johnbrand]

Full-Time Members

“Well, look who decided to grace us with his presence!” Andy chuckled. “Get over here, dickhead!”

Nathaniel swaggered over to the group, each step in his attire deceptively erotic. The starched white shirt rubbing across his sensitive nipples, the tailored khakis juggling his testicles in a back-and-forth moose knuckle. The suede bluchers, the shoulder pads in his jacket, the overly-expensive sunglasses perched on top of his perfect nose. Anyone could guess what type of man Nathaniel was just by looking at his outfit, but the four boys he drew closer to were focusing on what was in his hands.

“Is that…champagne?” Harry’s eyes were wide with admiration.

“Three bottles of it too?” Zack’s eyes were wide with wonder.

“What could possibly be the occasion?” Ricky’s eyes were wide with longing.

Nathaniel drew closer, disposing of the bottles and flutes beside his best buds. “The reception staff offered them to me, a welcome package for our admittance into their fine establishment.”

Andy frowned, “That’s a bit strange, right? Do they know we are only here because we won an auction for a day pass?”

“It’s a country club man, they’re supposed to be filthy rich!” Harry immediately got up and started pouring himself a glass. He did his best not to spill onto his shorts or the sweater his girlfriend had gifted him.

“They’re probably just showing off,” Zack added, his disdain for traditional culture evident by his counterculture outfit: an all-black simple tee and skinny jeans ensemble. “Probably are trying to get us to become full-time members.”

Ricky was already hoisting up his first glass to his lips, drops splashing onto his unruly beard. “And most importantly, it’s free liquor!”

Nathaniel watched contentedly as the three downed their glasses. He could sense the slightest hesitation from Andy.

“Have you tried any of it yet, Nathan?” Andy questioned.

“Certainly, and it was quite divine,” Nathaniel responded. “But why not ask the other fellows for further conclusions?”

“It’s the finest drink I’ve ever had,” Harry replied, scratching at his legs a bit before they disappeared under two white legs of slacks.

“It’s clean, delicate,” Zack noted, toying with the intricate front bit of hair that was meant to appear natural but was actually tediously maintained. “A lovely body of flavor.”

Ricky’s statement was as tight as the rolled up sleeves of his designer button-up. “And it’s champagne.”

Nathaniel made no visible reaction as the preppification completely rewrote his friends. His eyes did not waver as Harry’s curls were mowed down into a lackluster business cut, while Zack’s counterculture apparel burst out into the traditional blazer-button down-slacks combo, or when Ricky’s facial hair fell away to reveal a face that had never seen the inside of a lower-class home. Nathaniel made no visible reaction, but he did experience great satisfaction. He was disappointed however when he realized Andy had still not yet poured himself a glass.

“Is there a problem with the gift, Chandler?” Nathaniel allowed the presumptuous snarl to creep out of his voice. 

“It truly is marvelous,” Harrison’s eyes were wide with arrogance.

“There is nothing quite like it,” Zachariah’s eyes were wide with vain.

“What could possibly be stopping you from having a glass?” Cedric’s eyes were wide with greed.

Andy’s eyes were wide with fear.

The photographer was out a few minutes later, just as Nathaniel had recommended. The country club liked to promote their organization through whatever means they could, including social media. And Nathaniel knew he and his men would enjoy the extra attention and promotion, particularly Chandler, who always went the extra mile to stand out just a tad more. Today, that meant a salmon blazer paired with the lightest of mint-colored shorts.

The crew had no problem posing for the photographer, their cheers to becoming the newest full-time members of the country club wholly authentic.

[warping-realities]

Through the Looking Glass

Jason woke up to the annoying sound of his alarm clock, the same one he'd been struggling to not ignore for weeks. He stretched in bed, feeling like a ton of bricks, and stared at the ceiling, which felt lower than ever. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, but he wasn’t feeling it. Another day at his digital marketing job, where he spent his time filling out spreadsheets and organizing data. The office was lively, with colorful desks and people yapping about the latest trends, but Jason felt like a spectator in a movie he didn’t wanna watch.

After a quick shower, he threw on a shirt that was getting a bit tight around his gut and some pants that miraculously still fit. He checked himself out in the mirror, trying to style his hair to hide his thinning spots. The result was a messy combo that made him sigh. "This ain’t gonna hold up," he thought as he grabbed his thermos full of coffee and headed out.

On the way to work, he couldn’t shake thoughts of his latest attempts to find someone special. Unanswered messages on Grindr, awkward dates that ended in cringey silence, and the feeling that his love life was stuck in neutral. He forced himself to focus on the traffic, but his mind wandered. "Why can’t I change this?" he wondered.

When he got to the office, he was met with the usual hustle and bustle. His coworkers were chatting about marketing strategies and new campaigns, but Jason just settled at his desk, where a mountain of unread emails awaited him. He dove into graphs and reports, chugging coffee after coffee to fight off the fatigue. He knew caffeine was just a quick fix, and soon he’d feel jittery, his hands shaking a bit as he typed.

The hours dragged on, and the chatter around him blended into a dull hum. He glanced out the window, where the sun was shining bright, but he felt like he was trapped in a dark box. Lunchtime rolled around, and his coworkers gathered for a lively meal, laughing and sharing stories. Jason hesitated but opted to stay at his lonely table, where a sad tuna sandwich was waiting for him. He ate in silence, watching the office's energy, feeling like an outsider in a world that wasn’t his.

Afternoon came, and he was back to work, the monotony settling in again. The same tasks kept repeating, and he wondered if he’d ever break this cycle. If only he could find some purpose, something to make him feel alive again. But for now, all he could do was survive, day after day, as the clock ticked away, dragging on forever.

At the end of the shift, he waved goodbye to everyone with a fake smile and started walking the few blocks to where he parked his car that morning. But the universe and his body had other plans. “Damn bladder that can’t hold anything,” Jason grumbled as he hurriedly searched for somewhere to take a leak. Then, out of nowhere, he found himself in front of a rundown gym. He had passed by that place a million times on his way to work but never even glanced at it. Gym life was definitely not his thing. When he stepped inside, it was oddly quiet. No background music, no clients—just a super buff guy sitting at the reception, flashing a smile that Jason was pretty sure had more white teeth than anyone could have, only for it to vanish when he urgently asked to use the bathroom.

As he half-ran, awkwardly shuffling to avoid wetting his pants, he started thinking that the gym wasn’t in the best shape; the equipment looked neglected, and the lighting was terrible. This, combined with the absence of clients, explained the receptionist's gloomy vibe.

Finally reaching the bathroom, he dashed in and, without hesitation, relieved his bursting bladder. Feeling a huge sense of relief as he finished, he shook his modest member and turned around, only to be met with a huge mirror. Had that been there when he got in? Obviously, yes, giant mirrors don’t just pop up outta nowhere. Probably, in his frantic rush to the urinal, he had overlooked what was right in front of him.

But that mirror was totally outta place. It had a golden frame with intricate designs on the edges and some kind of writing he couldn’t make out. As he took a closer look, he ended up getting the biggest scare of his life.“WTF!” he screamed, staring at a complete stranger instead of himself. Reflected in the glass was the most ripped dude he’d ever seen, even bigger than the guy at the reception. The bodybuilder was staring back at him, dressed only in tight white shorts that left little to the imagination. Muscles bulging, covered in tanned, sweaty skin, like he’d just crushed a killer workout. A completely bald head, but with a thick beard covering his chiseled jaw. Jason quickly looked down, realizing he was still himself before glancing back at the mirror. “Like what ya see, brother?” the bodybuilder said in a deep voice. “What the fuck?” Jason repeated. “This can’t be real.”

The bodybuilder in the mirror stepped closer, his impressive physique clearly defined in those tight shorts. “Because I’m really glad to see you!” the dude teased, flexing his powerful muscles, licking his lips like Jason was the tastiest thing he’d ever seen. Seeing that, Jason tried to bolt, but his feet wouldn’t budge. To make things worse, his own body betrayed him, and he found himself mimicking the bodybuilder’s every move, as if the reflection was him, while a satisfied grin spread across the other man’s face. Tremendously freaked out, Jason locked eyes with the bodybuilder, and it felt like something was holding him there. Meanwhile, the bodybuilder reached out, his finger seeming to touch the mirror from the inside, and slowly, Jason’s arm imitated the motion. He wanted to scream and ask for help, but no words came out; it felt like his mouth was glued shut. With wide eyes, he saw his finger inching closer to the mirror, as if in slow-mo, even though everything was happening super fast. He see the other guy’s smile grow and felt the cold surface of the mirror for a split second, and then… Jason was standing in the middle of a massive room that looked like every gym imaginable, surrounded by workout equipment and free weights, further away a tatami with martial arts gear and a punching bag. No longer was there a mirror, but a sort of window in the air, and staring back at him from the other side, with a cheeky grin, was… himself!

“Thanks, bro,” said the other him. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

As Jason watched, stunned, his reflection in the mirror started to transform before his eyes. His dark hair quickly receded, revealing a tanned, bald head. His skin took on a golden hue, like he’d been baking in the sun for hours, anime a bushy beard covered his face.

His muscles began to expand impressively, growing and defining with each passing second. His shoulders broadened, his back turned wide and muscular. His arms, once skinny, gained volume and shape, with veins popping under the skin.

His shirt and pants seemed to struggle against this muscular growth, the seams straining and threatening to rip at any moment. Suddenly, the clothes tore apart, revealing a sculpted physique, with a defined chest and abs that looked like they were carved from ice.

Then the clothes began to reform in a way that was nothing like the previous one. A pair of tight white shorts replaced his old pants, showcasing thick, powerful thighs while a tank top barely contained the prominent muscles of his back and shoulders. His feet also grew considerably, now wearing gigantic size 15 sneakers. The man in the mirror looked like a true pro athlete, a bodybuilder at his peak, with an intimidating and commanding presence. As Jason watched, mouth agape, the man flexed his arms, showing off gigantic biceps and veins bulging all over his bronzed skin. A mischievous smile formed on his lips, and he winked at the real Jason, trapped on the other side of the mirror.

Suddenly, the muscular man turned and stepped out of Jason's line of sight, and at that exact moment, the strange window in the air dissolved like mist. Jason tried to scream, to call for someone, but his voice seemed to vanish, leaving him powerless before that surreal situation.

Slowly, the reality of what he had just witnessed began to sink in. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. How was this possible? Where was he? And who was this dude who now took his place?

Desperate, Jason lost his cool. He screamed, cried, begged for help, but nothing seemed to work. He was trapped, a prisoner of his own reflection.

“Hey, no point in yelling,” a young dude with tan skin and solid muscles, more agile than flashy, approached him with a calm voice. “You’re stuck here until the window opens again.”

“Who are you? What’s going on? Where am I?” He turned to the guy, desperate for answers. “Why is this happening to me?”

The guy looked at him with a serious expression as he spoke. “I don’t know much more than you, to be real. When I got here, it was the same deal. The dude who’s now in your body thought this had been going on forever. He didn’t know how, but it seemed to be some kind of cycle.”

“This is nuts!” Jason exclaimed. “It can’t be real. How can someone just swap places with another person? This makes no sense!”

“I get that it’s crazy,” the guy said with a slight understanding smile. “But it’s reality. You gotta accept that.” Jason felt a chill in his gut, his emotions conflicting between doubt and disbelief.

Looking for a spot to sit and process everything, Jason walked over to a bench press.

“Watch out!”

“What now?” he asked, startled.

“You gotta be careful with what you pick here,” the guy warned. “What you decide to do is gonna shape who you’ll be when the window opens again. Mathew, the physics teacher who was here before, bulked up to that huge bodybuilder because he chose to hit the weights. Little by little, he turned into Ibrahim, the Arab bodybuilder who took your spot.”

“What if I don’t wanna be a bodybuilder? What if I wanna go back to my normal life?”

“It’s complicated,” the young guy replied, shaking his head. “You can choose to do nothing and wait. But trust me, you’re going to end giving in. Time here isn’t like in our world. You won’t need to sleep or eat or even take a piss; it’ll be a long stretch of… nothing. And believe me, standing still isn’t the best option.”

Jason looked at the bench press and then at the weights around him. He was in a bind. “And what if I never give up? What happens if I don’t touch anything and just hang tight?”

“You’ll be stuck here until another window opens,” the guy explained. “And that window could take a hot minute to show up. People who end up in this dimension usually transform into something new because it’s easier than waiting.”

Jason’s mind was racing. “And you? Who were you before all this?”

“I was a big-time ballet dancer,” the guy said, with a nostalgic look. I was about to make my last presentation before retiring. Then I made the mistake of using the bathroom at a hotel pool. And suddenly, I was here, and the hotel had a brand-new lifeguard. I didn’t believe what Mathew told me; I barely registered it, and when I sat on the tatami to cry, boom, I started to change. I couldn’t believe what was happening. The physical transformation was terrifying… But eventually, I accepted it.”

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Bruno.”

“And before?” Jason asked, curious.

“That doesn’t matter anymore,” the guy replied, looking at the tatami. “You’ll find that what was before ends up losing its significance.”

“I’m not letting this happen!”

“You can try. I get that there’s something really important for you out there: family, friends… so good luck.” Bruno replied, heading toward the tatami where he began practicing skilled movements.

As Jason watched Bruno expertly moving on the tatami, he couldn’t help but feel like a shadow of who he could be. Bruno was the embodiment of confidence and strength; his movements were fluid and full of purpose, super different from his own days filled with inertia and monotony. The memory of his miserable life crept into his mind like thick fog that wouldn’t let him see clearly.

He remembered how many times he’d sat in front of the computer, battling feelings of insignificance. The empty interactions with coworkers who didn’t care, the pointless conversations that led nowhere. The weight of boredom followed him like a shadow. He no longer felt part of the world; he just existed, day after day, like a shadow of himself.

“What if I just let myself go?” That idea began to ring in his head. Ibrahim’s life, with its sculpted body and undeniable power, seemed tempting, or even Bruno’s agile physique. The transformation could be a way to escape the mediocrity that trapped him. It was seductive to think he could be a new man, strong and admired. How many times had he dreamed of being someone different, someone who inspired respect?

But as that idea formed, a spark of resistance began to glow inside him. It was a feeling he never knew he had, a determination that seemed to rise from the depths of his soul. “No! I can’t let some supernatural force decide who I am!” He refused to let himself be changed, to become a mere reflection of someone he wasn’t.

With that decision in mind, he took a deep breath, focusing on his reality. The life he had, though miserable, was still his. He loved his friends, even if he didn’t see them often. He had dreams and aspirations, even if they were buried beneath the routine. He didn’t want to give up being Jason, the guy he’d always been, no matter how hard it meant fighting against the current.

Time passed, and Jason started to explore the space around him. He moved cautiously, avoiding touching any equipment, as if each machine were a hidden trap. The room was massive, with an entirely empty center, and along the edges were weight machines, Bruno’s tatami, a boxing ring, even a basketball hoop and a soccer goal. In the corners of the room were doors. As he passed one, he found himself in a corridor connected to various others. The corridors led to different rooms dedicated to various physical activities: a more complete martial arts room, a yoga area with perfectly lined mats, a huge swimming pool, and even a dance room with mirrors from floor to ceiling.

He took in every detail, soaking in the grandeur of the space. Who or what had built all this? After wandering aimlessly through what could have been years or just a few minutes, he returned to the central room where Bruno was now meditating on the tatami.

Bruno opened his eyes slowly and looked at Jason with a curious expression, as if he had been waiting for an answer. “So, have you made your decision?” he asked, his voice calm and firm.

Jason felt a wave of determination warm his heart. He wasn’t willing to transform into someone else, to give up his identity. “Yeah,” he replied, with a resolute tone. “I’ve decided that I wanna keep being who I am. I won’t let myself be dragged away.”

Bruno frowned, his expression shifting from curiosity to concern. “You know this might have consequences, right? Staying here without changing might not be the best choice.”

“For me, it’s the only choice,” Jason insisted. “I’ve got friends, a life, even if it ain’t perfect. I’d rather fight for that than lose myself in a new identity that isn’t mine.”

As the days passed—or what seemed like days in that timeless place—Jason’s routine became clearer. He explored the space, getting familiar with the equipment but always steering clear of anything that might lead him to a transformation while trying to find a way out. Bruno, on the other hand, seemed more anxious by the minute. With each moment, his expression grew heavier with frustration.

“Jason, you need to understand that your resistance is holding me back,” Bruno said, his tone getting more impatient. “I can’t keep doing this. If you don’t move forward, I can’t either. You’re keeping us both trapped in an endless void.”

Jason, for his part, had begun to suspect that maybe Bruno was more involved in the situation than he appeared. “Why do you insist so much? Why can’t you accept that I don’t want to be someone else? You yourself said that Mathew and Ibrahim were totally different people.”

“Because I can’t take it anymore, Jason! I was someone before all this, just like you. And thinking about it gnaws at me; I’m stuck halfway and I just need to move on. Transformation is part of who we are now. I’m not trying to force you to change, but your refusal to move forward is holding me back too,” Bruno explained, the frustration in his voice becoming palpable.

Bruno's words began to echo in Jason's mind. It was true that there was something deeper in Bruno's quest. He wasn’t just trying to convince him to transform; there was a hidden desperation, a need for freedom that shone through in his eyes. But Jason couldn’t let himself be swayed. He needed to stay true to himself.

“Look, I understand that you might be feeling trapped, but I can’t be the answer to your problems. You can’t force me to change,” Jason replied, trying to remain calm.

“Of course I can! Do you think you can handle it if I come at you? Just throw you on the mat and it’ll all be over!”

“I knew it! You’re behind all this!”

“Don’t be an idiot; if I were behind all this, I would have already done what I just told you!”

“Maybe you can’t; you said it yourself, I’m the one who needs to choose.”

“You’re being stupid again; I could have simply not warned you and let things happen. And you have no idea how much I regret intervening.”

“Then do it, come on! Throw me on that damn mat and end this!” Jason shouted.

Bruno fell silent, his gaze lost in the void as Jason's words echoed in the room. He seemed tempted to act, his hands clenching into fists. However, hesitation was written all over his face. “I… I can’t do that,” he finally said, his voice low. “I don’t have the courage to interfere in someone else’s life like that.”

“Then you’re a hypocrite!” Jason shot back, frustration overflowing. “You’re here desperate to get out, but for that, you’re going to have to take someone else’s place, right?”

Bruno shook his head, the expression of conflict clear on his face. “I know that’s true, but… but if I transform, if I really become someone else, I won’t be me anymore, those doubts won’t exist. I saw that with Ibrahim. When the time comes, I won’t care about anything… but right now I can’t.”

“Hypocrite! You don’t really care about not interfering in someone else’s life; you only care about how it’s going to make you feel!” Jason retorted, feeling the weight of indignation.

Bruno looked down at the floor, the internal struggle evident. Jason, feeling he had said what he needed, turned and left the central room, walking through the parallel corridors branching out in unknown directions. The environment was a maze that seemed to mock his solitude. He didn’t know how long he wandered in that “no-time” until the lack of company began to weigh on him. He realized he couldn’t continue like that. He needed companionship, connection, even if it meant returning to Bruno. So with hesitant steps, he made his way back to the central room, where Bruno was still.

As he entered, he saw Bruno again in a meditative position. When he approached, the young man opened and lifted his eyes, and with a determined expression, said, “Jason, I reflected on what you said. And you’re right. Maybe it’s too late for me to go back to who I was. But you… you’re still you. You have the right to keep being who you are.”

Bruno's words brought an unexpected relief to Jason. He saw the sincerity in the man’s eyes, and for the first time, he felt a bridge being built between them.

Jason and Bruno sat on the floor in the emptiness of the central room, both in silence for a moment, allowing the weight of their previous conversations to dissipate. The tension that had existed between them now seemed to give way to mutual understanding. Jason felt that despite their differences, they shared something in common: the struggle to find a way in a world that had changed without warning.

“Let’s explore this together,” Jason suggested, his voice carrying a new determination. “If we’re stuck here, maybe we can discover an exit or something that helps us better understand this place.”

Bruno nodded, a shy smile appearing on his face. “Yeah, I’d love that. I believe that if we’re together, we can handle this situation better.”

The two stood up and began to walk. The environment was vast, with corridors branching out in various directions. They passed by rooms dedicated to every kind of physical activity imaginable, many of which neither of them had any idea about. Jason just looked at the doors, knowing what awaited him if he dared to enter. Bruno already knew his path but was able to explore better. As they walked through the endless possibilities of sports and physical activities that the human mind had invented, Bruno began to open up.

“Sometimes, I feel like my mind is a mess,” he commented as they walked. “My memories are all jumbled. I remember being a dancer, feeling the music flow through my veins and performing on stages. But now… now it’s like everything is mixed with fighting moves, martial arts, and I can’t distinguish between the two.”

Jason looked at Bruno with empathy. He tried to imagine the confusion the other man faced, the internal struggle between who he was and who he was becoming. “That must be tough to deal with,” Jason said.

Bruno smiled, but sadness still lingered in his eyes. “Yeah, it’s complicated. I feel like, in some way, I’m losing the essence of what made me happy. Dance… it was everything to me. Now, I don’t know if I’m still… him.”

Just at that moment, while they were walking, Jason spotted a door leading to a dance room. The soft sound of classical music leaked from inside, like an invitation. A sudden impulse took over him, and he stopped in front of the entrance. “Hey, how about we check it out?” he suggested, hope shining in his eyes. “Maybe you can dance again.”

Bruno hesitated, looking at the door and then back at Jason. “Dance? I don’t know if I can… I’m not her anymore.”

“But what if you try? Maybe it’ll help. It could be a way to reclaim that part of you, who knows, maybe even reverse the process,” Jason insisted, his enthusiasm growing.

Bruno took a deep breath and finally agreed. “Alright, let’s give it a shot.”

As Jason waited at the door, Bruno stepped into the room, and the music enveloped him immediately. The space was spacious, with mirrors on the walls and a polished floor reflecting the soft light. Jason, even from a distance, felt the vibrant energy of the place, a sense of possibility washing over him. Bruno, on the other hand, seemed hesitant. He moved to the center of the hall and, with a nervous gesture, began to try reproducing some of the steps he remembered.

However, the dance that once flowed with grace and beauty now seemed awkward. Bruno’s movements were stiff, the steps didn’t fit, and the music seemed to drift away from him. He attempted to execute a pirouette, but his legs didn’t respond as before, and he stumbled, nearly falling.

“Bruno!” Jason exclaimed, worried, but Bruno quickly composed himself, a forced smile on his face. “It’s fine, just a little mistake.” Then he broke down in tears. It was terrifying to see a man that big suddenly seem so fragile. “I want to go back to being who I was, but I don’t know how.” Bruno admitted, his voice carrying an emotional weight.

Jason wanted to get closer to Bruno, but he couldn’t, so he just spoke, trying to comfort his friend. “Remember you’re not alone. I believe in you; you can do it.”

Bruno took a deep breath, his determination renewed. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the music to envelop him completely. Then, with a fluid motion, he began to dance. Unlike his previous hesitance, there was now a lightness in his steps, a rhythm that seemed to flow from his essence. Each movement began to fit harmoniously, as if the music were guiding him.

Jason watched, amazed. It was as if a new energy had taken over Bruno; he was dancing not just with his body, but with his soul. The dance was a reflection of who he truly was, and he was finally breaking free from the chains that bound him. The steps became bolder, the turns wider, and the expression on his face shifted from insecurity to pure joy.

When the music finally came to an end, Bruno stopped, breathless but with a radiant smile on his face. He turned to Jason, who was cheering enthusiastically. "Did you see that? I did it!” Bruno exclaimed, joy written all over his face as he approached Jason.

“It was amazing! You were incredible!” Jason replied, still in awe. He felt a wave of pride for Bruno, as if his victory was also his own. In an impulse, the two moved closer and hugged, the connection between them stronger than ever.

For a brief moment, the world around them disappeared. Jason felt the warmth of Bruno’s body, the strength and vulnerability coexisting in that embrace. The smell of the other man filled his nostrils, the heat of that muscular body. Their hearts beat in unison, and for a moment, their faces drew close, the idea of a kiss lingering in the air. But as if a spell had been broken, they both pulled away at the same time, a slight blush on their faces.

“Sorry, I… didn’t mean to…” Bruno started to say, but Jason interrupted.

“Don’t worry, it was a spontaneous moment. We’re just… going through a lot,” Jason replied, trying to dissipate the tension that had sprung up between them.

“Yeah, exactly,” Bruno agreed, a nervous smile still on his face. “Shall we get back to the search for the exit?”

“Absolutely!” Jason replied, and together they left the dance room, now revitalized by the experience.

However, as they walked through the corridors, something unexpected happened. The paths that had once seemed endless abruptly led them back to the central room, where Jason and Bruno stopped in shock at a scene that seemed surreal, for in the center of the space was a brand-new smartphone, glowing under the soft light of the environment.

“Is that a smartphone? What the hell is that doing here?” Bruno asked, intrigued. They approached cautiously, exchanging curious glances. The device began to vibrate, as if it were waiting for them.

“Do you think… it could be a way to communicate?” Jason suggested, hope in his voice. “Maybe we can use it to learn more about this place or even find an exit.”

“There’s only one way to find out, and it’s probably better if it’s me for safety’s sake,” Bruno said, reaching out and grabbing the smartphone. The device was light and sleek, and as soon as he unlocked it, the screen lit up just as something inside Bruno faded while a new transformation overtook him.

Jason watched, stunned by what unfolded before his eyes. Bruno, his friend and ally in that strange world, was changing radically.

The muscles of the man began to harden, and although they didn’t grow much in size, they became hard and powerful. His body structure modified, gaining impressive functionality, far beyond a mere display of physical beauty. His tanned skin seemed to stretch over the sculpted forms, revealing the latent strength and capacity.

As the transformation progressed, Bruno's face also underwent changes. The innocence and vulnerability that had once graced his features were replaced by a hard and arrogant expression. The nose, likely broken several times during intense fights, had a crooked appearance, and his ears took on the characteristic cauliflower shape typical of martial arts athletes, although they were covered by a wave of curly hair.

But the most frightening change was in his eyes. Once filled with doubt and hope, they now became cold and calculating, as if Bruno’s soul had drained away, leaving only an empty shell. A mocking smile formed at the corner of his lips, completing the transformation.

Jason watched everything, paralyzed by fear and disbelief. He couldn’t believe what was happening, his mind struggling to process the radical change in his friend. When Bruno's altered face turned in his direction, Jason felt an urge to flee, but he knew it would be futile. Before he could move, Bruno easily captured him, his strength now far superior.

"You had the chance to choose for yourself," Bruno said, his voice mocking and strangely lively. "But now I’m the one who chooses."

Jason felt a shiver run down his spine. Bruno's words echoed like a sentence, leaving him with no way out. He saw the determination in the eyes of the man who had once been his friend and knew that nothing he did could change what was to come.

Bruno held Jason with immense strength as he dragged him along. Fear consumed Jason's body as Bruno moved through the corridors, each step echoing like a warning of what was to come. The surroundings seemed distorted, the walls closing in as he was pulled further away

Finally, they reached the door of the dance room, and Bruno stopped. Jason, seizing the brief moment, made a desperate attempt to break free, but Bruno reacted quickly. With an agile and precise movement, Jason was thrown into the room.

He fell heavily to the floor, confusion and fear taking over his body. He looked around, trying to find an exit, but the door through which he entered was blocked by the figure of the other man, leaving him trapped in that space.

Then, something began to happen. He felt a strange sensation coursing through his body, an energy that seemed to concentrate in every cell. His features began to change, the expression lines softening as the clock turned back and the weight of the years melted away, with his hair, once prematurely gray, regaining a much darker hue, and advancing to cover the receding hairline.

A mustache and goatee appeared on his face, giving the younger face a manly look. Jason observed, astonished, as his belly shrank and body hair disappeared, leaving his skin with a tone as dark as Bruno’s.

His muscles began to define, increasing in size and acquiring a sculpted appearance. His arms becoming toned and muscular, while his legs strengthened, accustomed to dance movements, though certainly not ballet.

When the transformation reached his eyes, they changed color, taking on a deep brown hue. And with that final change, a new identity emerged in his mind: Pedro.

He stood up, feeling light and agile, as if he had truly been reborn. Looking at his hands, now stronger and calloused, Pedro felt a wave of confidence wash over him.

At that moment, Bruno entered the room, his face contorted in an expression of triumph. “So, it seems someone finally has to accept their new self, huh? He said, with a playful smile.

Pedro glared at Bruno, his eyes shining with fierce determination. "I’m not gonna accept this! You can't force me to be something I'm not!"

Bruno let out a dry laugh. "Oh, but it ain't me doing that. You're stuck here, just like I was. And now, you're gonna become exactly what you were meant to be. In fact, you’re already starting to, aren’t you? Don’t even try to deny it; I can see it."

Without a second thought, Pedro charged at Bruno, fists clenched and adrenaline pumping through his veins. But Bruno, with his quick reflexes, was faster. He grabbed Pedro's arms, twisting them hard, pulling him in closer.

"You really think you can take me on?" Bruno said playfully, like this was the most fun he’d ever had.

Pedro struggled against the iron grip, his breath coming in ragged gasps. But as their bodies drew nearer, something shifted. The tension between them morphed into a palpable attraction, an energy that seemed to sink its claws into both of them.

Suddenly, Bruno yanked Pedro close, their lips crashing together in a fierce, desperate kiss. Pedro, initially hesitant, melted into the touch, their bodies intertwining in a heated embrace.

Bruno’s hands explored Pedro’s body, feeling every curve, every defined muscle. Pedro, in turn, reciprocated the touches, his own hands wandering beneath Bruno’s clothes, eager for more contact.

The kiss deepened, their tongues dancing in a sensual rhythm. The world around them seemed to disappear, and all that mattered was that moment, that touch.

Slowly, Bruno laid Pedro down on the floor, their bodies moving in sync, as if they were made for each other. The clothes were stripped away with urgency, revealing bronzed skin and sculpted muscles.

Pedro moaned softly, his fingers gripping Bruno’s back as he penetrated him with a desperate urgency. Their movements became increasingly frantic, their bodies colliding in an erotic dance.

Waves of pleasure enveloped them, their moans echoing in the dance room. They lost themselves in each other, forgetting everything except the overwhelming connection that bound them.

When they finally reached their peak, Pedro and Bruno collapsed into each other’s arms, their breaths heavy. In that moment, everything seemed to resolve, as if that encounter had been destined to happen from the beginning.

After that intense experience, the two returned to the central room, laughing and sharing kisses and caresses, bound to each other like a firefly drawn to a flame. But reality came knocking at the door again, for at the exact moment they entered the room, a window opened in the air before them, and on the other side stood an unsuspecting young man.

Bruno looked at Pedro with a soft smile, his eyes shining with a mix of desire and affection. He leaned in, capturing the other man's lips in a fiery, passionate kiss, his hand caressing Pedro's face with a tenderness that made his earlier aggressive behavior seem impossible.

When they finally pulled apart, Bruno held Pedro's hands between his, looking at him with seriousness. "No matter where you go, no matter who you become, you need to promise me that you'll come find me."

Pedro nodded, his gaze resolute. "I promise, Bruno. I’ll find you, no matter what happens." He pulled the other man in for one last kiss, feeling the urgency and passion radiating from both of them.

Then, Bruno stepped back, gazing at the window in the air that opened before them. His eyes sparkled with renewed confidence, a mysterious smile on his lips. Slowly, he approached the opening, extending his hand toward the young man waiting on the other side.

The moment his fingers brushed the surface of the window, a wave of energy swept through the space, and Bruno's figure dissolved, replaced by that of a boy with a classic nerd look. He wore thin-rimmed glasses, had messy dark hair, and confusion and fear etched on his face.

"Hey," Pedro said, preparing to explain everything to the man.

....

Pedro stood before the window in the air, his heart racing as he looked at the man who had materialized on the other side. He knew he was about to leave that strange place and return to the real world, even though his previous life no longer existed. In reality, that was a good thing because the memories of his new life were the ones he considered true. In front of him stood a man in his early thirties, very skinny, with bleached hair and makeup on his face, a makeup kit abandoned on a marble sink nearby.

Pedro understood that acting would completely change that man's life, but his reservations about it had faded along with most of Jason's memories. He now embraced and longed for that moment. So, he confidently moved toward the window in the air. As he glanced to the side, he saw a young, tanned man with bright blonde hair, exuding the vibe of a professional surfer, watching him with a wide smile. The man radiated confidence, joy, and a sense of relaxation and freedom. Pedro still found it hard to believe that somewhere in the complex there was a wave pool. But the living proof was right there beside him.

"See you later, Jake. I hope our waves cross again," Pedro said, his heart pounding with excitement.

"See you later, Pedro! Go make it worth it!" Jake replied, waving energetically.

With one last look at the surfer, Pedro turned and took the final step toward the window, extending his hand in front of him as the startled makeup artist on the other side did the same. As soon as their fingers touched the air on the other side, he felt a wave of energy enveloping him, pulling him toward his destiny.

Pedro found himself in an unfamiliar place; it was obviously a bathroom, but where? It was clearly much richer than the gym where Jason had entered at an indefinite time in the past, as the marble countertop at the sink matched the marble on the floor, along with the golden details on the faucets and doorknobs. The scent of lemongrass filled the air around Pedro. Gathering courage, he lifted his eyes to confront what he feared most: the bathroom mirror. Just the thought of being sent back and losing the identity he considered true made him tremble. However, when he faced the mirror, he saw only his own reflection—defined muscles, tanned skin, a youthful and handsome face adorned with a mustache and goatee that gave him a roguish yet virile appearance. Breathing a sigh of relief, he stepped out of the bathroom, ready to face what reality had to offer.

As Pedro exited the bathroom, he felt a rush of adrenaline as he adapted to his new reality. He knew he was an up-and-coming pop singer, but things seemed much better than he had imagined. The moment he crossed the door, the shine and luxury of the environment surprised him. He was in an extravagant hotel, with dazzling chandeliers and opulent decor, where natural light filtered through large windows, illuminating the space with a golden glow.

However, there was no time for admiration. Before he could take another step, a young woman with long, wavy hair and a radiant smile approached him. "Pedro! So glad you're here! We’ve all been waiting for you!" she said, pulling him along with a friendly and excited demeanor.

"Waiting for me?" Pedro asked, confused, but soon realized it must be some sort of work. It was still hard for him to believe he was topping the charts and dominating TikTok. “Sorry for the delay!"

"No problem! I'm Ana, your assistant for the day. I’m a huge fan of your work!" the woman exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. "You’re simply amazing!"

"Oh, if it’s not too much to ask," Ana said, hesitating slightly, "I’d love to film a dance with you for TikTok. That would be incredible!"

"You know, dancing is really part of my job, and I usually don't mix things... But since I liked you, we can do that later, okay?" he said, trying to keep a friendly tone.

"That would be perfect!" Ana replied, her excitement evident. "Let’s go! The crew is already in the photo area."

They walked through the hotel’s luxurious corridors, giving Pedro time to assimilate that the memories he had acquired in that non-place were indeed real, making him feel comfortable in this new role, and his confidence grew with each step. The atmosphere was filled with creative energy, with production teams adjusting lights and cameras, and he couldn’t help but feel excited.

When they finally arrived at the photo location, Pedro came to a halt, his heart nearly stopping. Before him was Bruno, being photographed at that very moment. The shock was immediate. He couldn’t believe how quickly their paths had crossed! Bruno was there, so close.

He was radiant, his muscular body perfectly posed under the camera flashes. Bruno's expression was one of pure confidence, as if he were at the peak of his game. He turned amidst the flashes, his eyes passing over Pedro, a hint of a tremor on his face, and… nothing.

Pedro felt his heart race as he stared at Bruno, but the expression on the other man’s face was not one of recognition. Bruno looked at him neutrally, as if facing a stranger rather than someone with whom he had shared such intense moments.

The disappointment hit him like a blow, but Pedro knew that entering this new body and life could mean this possibility. He forced himself to keep his composure, taking a deep breath as Ana, his assistant, approached.

"Before we start with the photos, we need to answer a few questions for the article that will accompany the shoot," Ana said with a friendly smile.

Pedro forced a smile and nodded, trying not to betray his frustration. As the crew got organized, a reporter approached him, notepad in hand. Old school, Pedro thought.

"So, to start, do you two know each other?" the reporter asked casually.

Bruno didn’t hesitate. "Yes, of course." Pedro’s heart raced as he cast a hopeful glance at the other man. "All Brazilians know each other, right? Just like all Asians and all Black people." He said with a sarcastic smile that made Pedro’s hopes crumble.

Pedro bit his lip, feeling a wave of disappointment. "Yeah… that's true. Brazil is huge, and also, I’ve lived in the United States since I was five," he replied, trying to keep his tone light.

Bruno continued, indifferent. "Exactly. My last name is Leone, but I’m not related to Gabriel Leone, who did Ferrari and Senna. Anyway, I’ve definitely heard of Pedro Cruz, the new TikTok king."

Pedro forced a laugh, but the sound came out dry and lifeless. What should have been a reunion full of possibilities had now turned into a moment of solitude. Bruno, who had been his friend and ally, and for brief moments the source of the greatest pleasure he had experienced in both his lives, was now a distant figure, an icon on a pedestal he couldn’t reach even though he was right beside him, so close he could feel the heat radiating from his body and the leather and musk scent he exuded.

Pedro took a deep breath, trying to regain control of the situation. He looked at the reporter, a light smile on his face as he said, “Being called the ‘King of TikTok’ is certainly an incredible recognition, but it’s not the most important thing to me. What really drives me is music and dance. I want to be like my inspirations, like Michael Jackson and Bruno Mars. They taught me that art is a way to connect with people, to express feelings, and to tell stories. What I want most is for people to feel the same joy I feel when I perform.”

The reporter nodded, jotting down his words with an interested look. “That’s truly inspiring, Pedro! Now, Bruno, let’s talk about you. Your meteoric career is impressive, going from Olympic judo competitor to movie actor. Can you tell us a bit about how that transition was for you and what it meant to be cast as Roberto da Costa, the Solar Man, in the latest X-Men movie?”

Bruno smiled, his confident expression shining through. “It was an incredible journey. I’ve always been passionate about martial arts, and judo, specifically, has always been a fundamental part of my life. I had the honor of training with the Gracie family in Brazil. The role of Roberto was extremely unexpected; I’d done some telenovelas in Brazil, but nothing this big, so being able to do something like this, even if in the grand scheme of things it was a relatively small role, was still amazing. I auditioned knowing I was perfect for the role but without high hopes of being recognized. When I got the call from Marvel, it felt like a dream come true. I have to thank Kevin Feige and the Russo brothers for believing in me and tapping into the plots of X-Men '97 in the new phase of the mutants. They gave me the opportunity to showcase my potential as an actor, and even though martial arts wasn’t the focus of the casting, it will always be a fundamental part of my life.”

Pedro listened attentively, admiring the confidence Bruno displayed while talking about his career. He realized that although Bruno was distant from their previous friendship, their passion for their respective arts was still a point of connection.

“Speaking of martial arts, you’ll be playing a self-defense instructor and romantic lead opposite Zendaya in the new film by none other than Greta Gerwig. How do you feel about that new role?” the reporter asked, her gaze fixed on Bruno.

“It’s a huge responsibility,” Bruno replied, his eyes shining. “It represents a side of me that the people who followed me in sports never got to see, which is what’s behind the fighter's figure. The energy of the fight, the determination, and strength are characteristics I feel deeply, and I’m excited to showcase that even more with such an incredible director.”

“I have hot information that sparks flew in the more intimate scenes between you and Zendaya.”

“That’s called chemistry, which doesn’t mean something more happened. With the right angle, you can make sparks fly anywhere; take today’s shoot as an example. A competent director can make it seem like there’s something between Pedro and me, even if in reality that’s impossible,” Bruno responded, striking another blow to Pedro’s feelings before continuing to speak. “We need to be careful with this kind of comment; Zendaya is practically married, and I’m engaged.” He finished with a smile on his face, causing Pedro to sink even further.

“Oh, yes, Amanda Grant, silver in rhythmic gymnastics at the last Olympics, and you two were voted couple of the year in several publications. When can we expect the wedding?”

“Soon,” Bruno replied with an enigmatic smile, adding nothing more. The reporter asked more questions for both of them, but Pedro only gave automatic responses as he felt powerless and trapped in a way he had never felt even when stuck in a parallel dimension.

Pedro took a deep breath again, trying to concentrate while the reporter stepped back to capture some photos of the shoot. He and Bruno were in a well-lit studio, surrounded by flashes and laughter, but Bruno's presence kept him in a constant state of tension. When it came time to remove their shirts, the atmosphere shifted. Bruno's well-defined, muscular body seemed to shine under the lights, and the memory of their time together flooded Pedro's mind like a whirlwind.

He struggled to maintain his composure, but every time Bruno moved, their proximity made the situation almost unbearable. The scent of Bruno’s cologne, mixed with his sweat, and the way his muscles flexed as he posed for the camera were all reminders of the incredible sex they had shared. Pedro felt like he was in an emotional battlefield, fighting against the attraction that pulsed between them.

“Cut! Let’s take a break,” shouted the photographer, and Pedro let out a sigh of relief. Bruno���s part in the photoshoot was over, and the actor’s exit eased some of the weight on Pedro’s shoulders. He began to relax, feeling more at ease with the camera and the crew around him.

The reporter returned, and after some light conversation, Pedro found himself having fun, laughing, and getting into the energy of the moment. When it finally came time to film the TikTok video with Ana, the music pulsed in the background, and he started teaching the dance steps he had created. The joy of dancing and teaching infected Pedro, and he forgot the tensions of the shoot, diving into the music and Ana's contagious presence.

However, that joy was abruptly interrupted when, at the end of the shoot, Ana led him to the dressing room, a hotel room serving as a rest space for the team. Upon opening the door, Pedro felt his heart stop for a moment. Bruno was there, sitting in one of the chairs, wearing a simple t-shirt but with a look that seemed to penetrate his soul.

Pedro tried to ignore the tension in the air as he served himself some water, but the emotion of having Bruno so close in a room where they were just the two of them was undeniable. Turning around, Pedro met Bruno's gaze, which seemed charged with something undefined.

“Hey,” Pedro said, trying to keep calm, but his voice came out shakier than he would have liked.

“What are you thinking, boy? You think I didn’t see the way you look me?” Bruno asked, his tone challenging. “I think you’re crazy about me,” he said, moving closer after locking the door.

Pedro opened his mouth to deny it, but the words didn’t come out. Instead, he felt Bruno’s hand gripping his neck tightly, and a chill ran down his spine. “Bruno, wait…”

Before he could finish the sentence, Bruno closed the distance, sealing their lips in an intense kiss. At first, Pedro was paralyzed, surprised by the gesture. But as the kiss deepened, something inside him ignited, and he began to respond, his confused feelings giving way to desire.

When they finally pulled apart, Pedro was speechless, his heart racing. Bruno let out a playful, carefree laugh. “Man, I loved seeing that sad puppy dog look on your face.”

Pedro furrowed his brow, confused. “What do you mean by that?”

Bruno looked at him, his eyes sparkling. “I waited three years, two months, and 25 days for you. When I saw your name on the photoshoot list, I almost fainted. All this time and nothing… I had practically given up. Then today, magically, reality adjusted, and a new pop singer appeared at the top of all the charts, and I allowed myself to feel hope again.”

“Do you remember me?” Pedro asked, incredulity washing over him.

“Apparently, you didn't get smarter during the time we were apart,” Bruno replied, a mischievous smile on his lips.

Pedro felt indignant at that. “Filho da puta, arrombado! he said in portuguese with an irritated voice.

“Yeah, but I’m the asshole son of a bitch you want,” Bruno replied, while squeezing Pedro's impressively large cock, pulling him close again, and they shared another kiss, full of passion and intensity.

As Pedro and Bruno’s lips met again, the accumulated tension dissipated like smoke in the wind. The kiss was a mix of desire and longing, a reunion that seemed destined to happen from the start.

Bruno held Pedro’s face firmly, as if fearing he might disappear at any moment. Pedro’s hand slid down Bruno’s back, feeling the definition of his muscles beneath his t-shirt, and a wave of heat coursed through his body. The outside world faded away, and all that mattered was that moment, that touch.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” Bruno whispered between kisses, his voice hoarse and laden with emotion. “Every day without you was a challenge.”

Pedro felt his heart race. “I missed you too, Bruno. You were the reason I fought to be who I am now.”

The intensity of the moment heightened, and Bruno pulled Pedro closer, his hands exploring the other’s body with passionate urgency. Pedro surrendered to the touch, Bruno’s fingers gliding over his exposed skin. The desire grew between them like a flame, illuminating the darkness surrounding them.

“Let’s do this right,” Bruno said, his voice deep and full of promises as he began to unbutton Pedro’s shirt slowly, revealing his well-defined, tanned torso.

Pedro held his breath, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through him. He had never felt so desired, so alive. With a swift motion, he pulled Bruno closer, their mouths meeting in an even deeper kiss as their hands explored one another's bodies.

The tension between them was palpable, and Pedro let himself be carried away by the passion enveloping them. He felt Bruno’s muscles against his, and the chemistry between them was undeniable. Bruno's hands slid across his back as Pedro lost himself in the sensation of finally being reunited with the man he had longed for for so long.

As they pulled away for a brief moment, both breathless, Bruno looked into Pedro’s eyes, the intensity of his gaze making Pedro’s heart race. “I want you, Pedro. Now and always.”

“Then let’s not wait any longer,” Pedro replied, determination echoing in his voice. He pulled Bruno closer, their bodies joining in a dance of desire and passion.

Bruno smiled, a smile that promised everything they had dreamed of together. They moved together, falling into a trance of touches and kisses as reality around them faded into a whirlwind of sensations. The heat of their bodies melded, and each touch seemed to ignite a new flame between them.

The kisses grew more intense, more urgent, as they surrendered to the passion engulfing them. The outside world faded away, and all that mattered was that influx of passion and desire that found release as the two took turns fucking each other.

After their intense moment of passion, Pedro and Bruno found themselves lying together, their bodies intertwined in a silence that was both comfortable and heavy. The warmth between them still simmered, but a shadow of concern began to loom in Bruno’s mind. He looked at Pedro, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and remorse.

“That was reckless,” Bruno said, his voice low and reflective, as if he were trying to grasp the gravity of what had just happened.

Pedro frowned, his heart racing again. “Reckless? Why? We finally found each other again. After everything we’ve been through, this isn’t recklessness; it’s… it’s what should have happened.”

Bruno sighed, looking away. “I know, but the truth is, I’m engaged to Mandy. This isn’t just a love affair; it’s a convenience. I’m an emerging actor, and she comes from a very religious family that would never accept her sexuality. We have an arrangement. The image we need to maintain is everything.”

Pedro felt a knot form in his stomach. “Are you serious? So all of this… was just a moment?” His voice trembled with the pain of the revelation.

“No, it wasn’t just a moment,” Bruno hurried to reply, holding Pedro’s hand. “What I feel for you is real, but the reality of our world is complicated. Being engaged to someone who is a public figure helps maintain an image that makes things easier in the entertainment industry. Life is much simpler if you seem straight, even if the truth is different.”

Pedro fell silent, absorbing Bruno’s words. He didn’t want to believe that his happiness could be so quickly undone by social conventions. “This is awful!”

“I don't deny it, but what about you? With millions of female fans believing they’ll be the chosen one? The image of an available man is important to you. And as much as things have progressed regarding representation, you'll lose most of your audience if you come out.”

Pedro nodded, frustration clear on his face. “Yeah, I know, but it’s so unfair.”

“Yes, it’s unfair, but the world is unfair, even more so with people like us, we can pretend that things are better now, that we are accepted, that prejudice has disappeared, but that is a lie, the prejudice is just veiled, especially in the current political situation. That’s why we need to be careful. Our relationship cannot be exposed. We’ll have to hide it.”

“Hide? How can you ask that?” Pedro asked, indignation rising within him. “Do you think I can just ignore what we have? Ignore how I feel about you?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Bruno explained, his expression now softer. “We need to find a middle ground. After the article comes out, we can be seen as best friends. A classic bromance. This will pique the curiosity of the gay community and allow for some fanfics to be created, but we need to ensure it doesn’t go beyond that.”

Pedro took a deep breath, trying to process everything. The idea of hiding his love troubled him, but he knew Bruno was partially right. The pressure from the industry was intense, and any scandal could ruin their careers.

“So that’s it? Friendship instead of love?” Pedro asked, his voice almost a whisper.

“Not exactly,” Bruno said, looking into Pedro’s eyes. “You are more than a friend to me. But we need to be strategic. It’s the only way to keep everything under control.”

Pedro felt his heart tighten. The idea of living in secret was painful, but what Bruno proposed was an opportunity to maintain something true between them.

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re sacrificing for me,” Pedro declared, his voice firm. “If this is what we need to do to protect what we have, then I’ll try. But it won’t be easy.”

Bruno smiled, the tension in his face easing a bit. “Nothing worth having is easy, Pedro. But if we’re together, we can face anything.”

Pedro nodded, feeling a new determination forming within him. “Then let’s do this. Let’s be the best friends the world has ever seen while keeping our love a secret.”

Bruno returned to caressing Pedro’s face, his fingers gliding gently over his tanned skin. “You have no idea how much this means to me,” he said, sincerity resonating in every word. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”

Pedro raised an eyebrow, curious. “What is it?”

Bruno hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “I was able to track down Ibrahim. Remember him? The bodybuilder who took Jason’s place?”

Pedro’s eyes lit up. “Seriously? And where is he?”

“He’s now the owner of the gym where Jason went. Since he returned, he’s become a renowned personal trainer in New York. Whenever I go there, he helps me train and improve. We still keep in touch, and he’s been a great help to me,” Bruno explained, a satisfied smile on his face.

“That’s amazing!” He didn't have any anger towards the man, after all, if it weren't for him, Pedro wouldn't be who he was today.

“Yeah, we tried to locate others who went through the mirror, and Ibrahim has really dedicated himself to that. We found out that Carter, the guy who was there before me, is now a firefighter in Washington and still does some shifts as a lifeguard at the hotel,” Bruno continued, excitement growing as he spoke.

“Wow! That’s really cool. And did you find out anything else?” Pedro inquired, increasingly curious about what had happened to those who shared the same experience.

“Yes, from Carter, Ibrahim even managed to compile a significant list of names. But we don’t have much contact,” Bruno replied, his expression serious.

“Why not?”

“Before Jason arrived and refused to move on, there was always the possibility of it being something random, a crazy play by cosmic forces. But what happened to us, the smartphone, demonstrates that there’s some intent behind it; what happened to us isn’t random.”

“Another reason to investigate!” Pedro said, perhaps encouraged by some remaining trait of Jason.

“Do you really want to provoke a being that has the power to send you back to that place? Try to understand man, we’re all happy to varying degrees with our lives; none of us want to see them erased. Be honest with me; have you deliberately looked in any mirrors since you returned?”

Bruno’s question made Pedro remember the terror he felt before facing the bathroom mirror.

“I understand.” Said Pedro in a low voice and a sad expression.

“Cheer up, man; whoever or whatever is behind this returned you directly to me; maybe it’s an olive branch.”

“Or a warning of what we could lose if we poke around too much. You guys are right; let’s enjoy the lives we’ve gained.”

Bruno smiled, but then a spark of curiosity appeared on his face. “Hey, I need to ask you: what happened to that nerd whose place I took in the bathroom at Comic-Con?”

“Jake? Oh, he’s an awesome guy! You won’t believe it; now he’s a typical surfer, full of energy and always smiling. I really hope to run into him when he gets back,” Pedro said with a smile on his lips.

Bruno made a thoughtful expression. “Should I feel jealous?” he asked, a mischievous smile forming on his face.

“Only if you don’t behave,” Pedro replied, winking at Bruno. He then pulled Bruno close again, capturing his lips in an intense kiss filled with passion and desire.

…

Betty walked along the hot sand of a Hawaiian beach, feeling the sea breeze caress her face and the fine grains burying under her bare feet. The scenery was stunning, with waves gently breaking on the shore and the sky tinged with blue. However, the joy of the moment was overshadowed by the sting she felt on her skin, burned by the sun. “How could I be so stupid?” she thought, recalling that she had left without applying sunscreen, even knowing its importance.

As she moved forward, she observed groups of tourists having fun, surfers challenging the waves, and children playing in the water. The scene was vibrant, but Betty couldn’t focus on the beauty around her. Her mind was occupied with the pain and frustration of having forgotten the basics. She was far from the hotel and urgently needed a bathroom to assess the damage.

After a long walk, she spotted a seaside bar filled with surfers laughing and sharing stories. As she approached, her heart raced with relief. “I hope the owner doesn’t mind,” she thought as she made her way to the bar. With a nervous smile, she asked the bartender, “Excuse me, can I please use the bathroom? I really need to.”

The man, with a sympathetic look, led her to the bathroom, and Betty thanked him, feeling a bit more at ease. As soon as she entered, she closed the door and faced herself in the mirror. The reflection showed a middle-aged woman, plump and with a flushed face marked by sunburns. She couldn’t help but let out an ironic smile. “Look at you, Betty. What a beauty!” she murmured, running her hand over her sore skin, not even noticing the opulence of the mirror before her, completely out of place in the reality of the seaside bar.

Then, suddenly, something made her freeze. The image reflected in the mirror was no longer hers but that of a young man with long, shiny blonde hair, defined muscles, and sun-kissed skin. Betty was startled, but the reflected surfer merely smiled and began walking toward her. Unable to control her own feet, she moved closer to the mirror. The man inside the mirror reached out his hand, and Betty, as if hypnotized, extended her own hand while the man’s smile widened.

[silent-stories]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Series summary: After years of building your band’s reputation as one of the most influential in the metal scene, you and your bandmates move to Los Angeles. What you don't expect, however, is that your new neighbors are none other than Bad Omens, and that Noah is a huge fan of your band.

Series masterlist

The moment you walked into the music store, the scent of wood, metal, and leather hit you, immediately transporting you to memories from your childhood. The sound of strings being tuned, the hum of drums being tested, and the rhythmic tapping of keys filled the air, and you couldn’t help but smile.

It was like stepping into a sanctuary, the kind of place you’d lost yourself in for hours when you were younger. Back then, you used to wander between the rows of guitars, basses, drums, and amps, feeling like the world outside could wait. It was always easier to breathe in a music store. The chaos of the world seemed so much quieter when surrounded by instruments.

You took a deep breath, soaking in the atmosphere. The walls were lined with guitars—some old and worn, others gleaming with fresh paint. Amps of all sizes were stacked along one side of the store, while the percussion section was neatly organized just ahead. It was impossible not to be overwhelmed with a sense of nostalgia.

Noah, walking in beside you, caught your eye with a grin. “Looks like you enjoy this place,” he said, his voice light, but there was an understanding in his tone.

“Yeah,” you replied, running your fingers over the smooth surface of a guitar, “it takes me back."

Noah nodded, a quiet smile on his lips.

"I'm sure I'm gonna come back here often." You added.

“Well, I’m glad we’re doing this today,” Noah said, looking around. “Let’s find that drum head and those sticks, yeah?”

You nodded, already feeling that familiar thrill of being surrounded by equipment you had no real need for but wanted anyway. You led him toward the percussion section, where you found a display of drum heads. They were all neatly stacked, with each one bearing different designs, sizes, and materials.

“Okay, so Jake mentioned he needed a new drum head,” you said, scanning the selection. “And he loves his gear to look good, so we need something that'll catch his eye. He’s really into the red and black combo these days. Literally, his entire wardrobe is those colors."

Noah’s eyes lit up when he saw the perfect one. It was a deep red with a black snake designed on it. “This one. This is perfect for him. It’s bold, but not too much. And the red and black thing? It’s spot on. I don't really know him but this thing screams Jake.”

"Oh, I like this one."

“I’ve been around Folio long enough to know what looks cool,” Noah said with a shrug, grabbing the drum head off the display and holding it up in front of you. “This one’s definitely the vibe.”

He handed it to you, and as your fingers brushed his, a jolt of electricity shot through your hand, making your pulse quicken. You smiled as if nothing had happened, your mind already working on what else you needed. “Now we need the sticks.”

You walked a few feet to the stick display, where a wall of different brands and styles greeted you. You picked up a few pairs, testing their balance in your hands, feeling the weight of them.

“Red and black?” Noah asked, still standing by the drum head section.

“Yeah,” you said, tossing a pair of black sticks back onto the shelf and picking up a set with a bright red finish. “These could work.”

Noah walked over, inspecting them as he grabbed a matching pair. “They feel good. Solid grip, and the weight’s pretty spot on. They’re not too light, but not too heavy either.”

"Since when are you also a drummer?"

"Trust me, you don't want to see me play. I only know a few things."

“Alright,” you said, nodding. “I hope he's gonna like these.”

You walked to the counter, briefly talking with the cashier and then you both made your way out of the store. The late afternoon sun had dipped low in the sky, casting a soft golden hue over everything as you stepped back into the parking lot.

As you climbed into Noah’s car, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. There was something about being in a music store that always grounded you, and today, with Noah by your side, it felt even more meaningful.

He slid into the driver’s seat, tossing the keys onto the dashboard.

“Thanks for helping me pick this stuff out, Noah.”

“No problem,” Noah said, “It’s always good to help a friend."

The drive back from the record store was relaxed, the warm glow of the setting sun stretching across the road as you and Noah talked. Music hummed softly in the background, a low rhythm filling the spaces between easy conversation. The city rolled by outside the car window, but you barely noticed, too caught up in glancing at Noah from time to time.

At one point, as the playlist shifted to something slower, Noah glanced over at you, his expression curious. “You play guitar, right?”

You blinked, surprised by the question but not by the certainty in his voice—like he already knew. He was a fan, after all.

“Kind of,” you admitted with a small shrug. “Alex tried to teach me a bunch of times. He was really patient about it, but…” You grinned, “He never got far with me. I’m not exactly a natural. I'm probably better with a microphone.”

Noah raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “That’s not what it looked like.”

You frowned, genuinely curious. “What do you mean?”

He chuckled softly, his gaze flicking briefly to the road before returning to you. “I’ve seen you play. Acoustic sets. You did that version of Ghost a few times.”

You felt a sudden, warm flush creep up your neck. “That barely counts,” you said with a laugh. “It’s just one song. And I stopped playing it a couple of years ago.”

Noah shook his head, smirking. “Doesn’t matter. You still did it. And you didn’t look half bad doing it, either.”

You scoffed lightly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, well, I’d love to actually know what I’m doing someday.”

He didn’t reply, but his smile lingered, as if he knew something you didn’t. The music shifted again, the notes matching the golden haze outside, and for a while, neither of you spoke.

"Friend." That word kept echoing in his mind. He had said it so casually, without thinking twice. But now, it lingered with him.

It felt too much and not enough at the same time.

He had known you for just a little over a week, yet it felt like he had known you for years. And in some ways, maybe he had. But now that he was seeing you in person, talking and joking, everything felt so easy, so natural. It was effortless, like the two of you just fit. Like this was something that had been waiting to happen all along.

He loved the way you sang that song with him so much that he almost thought about taking a wrong turn to make the journey last longer. That song that in one way or another described you a little and that he knew he would never listen to in the same way again.

The front door creaked open, and Noah stepped inside his house, glancing around as he tossed his jacket onto the coat rack.

“Hey, already back from your date?” Nicholas asked from the couch, his legs stretched out lazily. He was lounging next to Matt, who was looking at his phone, but as soon as Noah closed the door behing him, his attention was on Noah.

Noah ran a hand through his hair, feeling the warmth rush to his cheeks. “It wasn’t a date,” he replied, trying to brush it off as casually as possible.

“Right, it wasn’t a date,” Matt chimed in “But you sure would’ve liked it to be.”

Noah shot him a quick glare, but his heart beat just a little faster at the idea. He didn’t want to think about that right now.

“We’re just friends,” he said firmly, hoping that would put an end to the conversation. But his voice faltered slightly.

“Yeah, you’re just friends…” Nicholas smirked, “But you sure as hell want it to be more than that, don’t you?”

Noah exhaled sharply, his brow furrowing as he leaned against the wall, suddenly feeling a little cornered by their teasing.  “Hey, you two. Did you just team up against me or something?”

Nick chuckled softly. “I’m just saying,” he said, his tone light but laced with amusement, “you don’t come home with a smile on your face like that after spending time with a girl unless you’re really feeling something. And this hasn't happened in a long time.”

Noah paused. He knew what they were saying was true. He did feel something. Something he couldn’t quite put into words. It was too early for him to even figure it out, but there was no denying the way his pulse quickened whenever you laughed, the way his thoughts lingered on every conversation you had. The way he’d caught himself smiling after the drive back even if none of you was speaking.

But there was also the fact that you’d only just moved to LA. You were still getting settled, still figuring things out. He couldn’t assume anything, especially not after just one week. Besides, you had been nothing but kind to him, offering your company, your time—just as a friend. You didn’t give any indication that you felt the same way.

“She just moved here, you know? She’s probably just being nice, trying to make some friends. I don’t want to mess that up.”

As Noah moved toward the kitchen, he heard Nicholas mumble, “Dumbass,” under his breath, and Noah couldn’t help but shake his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He wasn’t ready to admit anything, not even to himself—and for now, he’d take it slow.

You took a deep breath as you climbed the stairs, still holding the bags in your hands. You entered your room and set the items down on your bed. First, you carefully unpacked the drum head, the red snake design standing out vividly against the plain brown wrapping paper. It was perfect for Jake, and you couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

You set it aside before moving on to the sticks. They felt solid, the red finish a nice complement to the rest of the gift. You placed them neatly next to the drum head, the items now ready to be wrapped.

Once everything was in order, you headed downstairs, hoping to get some rest before you had to start working on the shirt designs again. As you entered the living room, you spotted Alex lounging on the couch, his usual smirk in place as he glanced up from his phone.

"So," he started, his voice teasing, "What did you do today? Besides, you know, buying gifts for our lovely drummer?"

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you took a seat on the armrest of the couch. "I just went out with Noah," you said, trying to keep your tone casual. "We went to a music store to pick up some things for Jake's birthday."

Alex’s eyes lit up, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Oh, so you and Noah spent the day together, huh?" he teased, leaning forward slightly. "Was it a… fun outing?" He dragged the words out, clearly enjoying how the situation sounded.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. "It was just a trip to the store, Alex," you said, trying to play it off as no big deal. "He was just being kind, helping me pick out the right stuff for Jake."

Alex’s grin widened, clearly not buying it. "Uh-huh, sure. Just 'helping' you out. Look at you, getting all cozy with the neighbor." He leaned back against the couch, still smirking.

You shook your head, laughing lightly. "It’s not like that," you insisted. "We’re just friends. He’s just a nice guy, and I needed help picking out some gifts. That's all."

Alex raised an eyebrow, his teasing tone never faltering. "Friends, huh?" he said, dragging out the word.

You shot him a playful glare, not willing to admit anything. "I swear, you’re impossible," you said, standing up from the couch. "It’s literally nothing. We just went out to get some stuff for Jake’s birthday. End of story. I don't like him that way."

Alex chuckled softly, clearly enjoying teasing you. "Sure, sure. If you say so."

"Alright, enough," you said, rolling your eyes. "Now that I’ve dealt with your teasing, I’m gonna work on the merch. In my room. Alone."

You heard the blonde's laughter follow you until you closed the door behind you.

In the following days, things passed by in a calm, pleasant rhythm. You spent a few afternoons wandering around Los Angeles with Sam, Jake and William, exploring the city in ways that felt both casual and exciting. One afternoon, you strolled through Melrose Avenue, checking out the cool, vintage stores that lined the street.

There was this one shop, Wasteland, that had the most amazing collection of secondhand leather jackets and band tees from decades past. You spent a good chunk of time browsing through the racks, finding the occasional gem, and laughing at some of the ridiculous fashion choices from the ‘80s that seemed to make their way back in style.

Another day, you went to The Last Bookstore in downtown LA. The towering shelves of books, the hidden nooks, and the whimsical vibe of the place were exactly the kind of escape you craved when the city felt a little overwhelming. Sam had picked up a graphic novel while William flipped through a music history book, but you found yourself drawn to the vinyl section, running your fingers over the old records with a soft smile. It was a little treasure trove, tucked away in the heart of the city, and you found a kind of peace there among the pages and music.

As you walked through these different parts of the city, you were starting to notice something. More and more often, people would recognize you—fans of the band, or sometimes just music lovers who happened to spot you. It wasn’t something you had ever been used to, but it was happening now, and you couldn’t help but feel a little thrill every time someone would call out your name.

It would start with a hesitant wave, and then someone would ask, “Hey, are you Y/N from Dark Waves?” Or “Are you a singer?” And before you knew it, you’d end up posing for a selfie, or signing a quick autograph, exchanging a few words with a fan. It was always brief, always pleasant, but it made you feel something inside, like you were on the right path.

It was a little surreal, honestly. Growing up, you never really expected to be recognized in places like this—walking through crowded streets, sitting in cafes, or shopping in quirky stores. Yet there you were, in LA, where it seemed like everyone had a chance to run into someone they admired. Each time someone approached you, you felt a deep sense of gratitude. It reminded you of how far you’d come, of the countless hours spent working on music and building your career, and most importantly, it reminded you of the people who had helped get you to where you were now—your fans.

They were the reason you were living this life, the reason you had the privilege of playing music for a living. They were the ones who had supported Dark Waves through everything, and now, it was starting to feel real. You weren’t just in the band anymore—you were part of something much bigger, something that had a life of its own.

You had continued your routine of leaving food for the stray cat, just outside your garden. Every morning, without fail, the food would be gone, and you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction knowing the cat was eating. There was something comforting about it, even though you didn’t know much about the cat or its life. You just hoped that, at least for a while, it could count on the food you left out.

One night, as you sat on the couch, flipping through your phone, you heard a noise outside. It was faint at first, just a soft rustling, but it was enough to catch your attention. You froze, listening, and then the sound came again—louder this time. It was as if something had knocked into something else. Curious, you stood up, slipping into your comfortable hoodie to shield yourself from the chill of the night air, and made your way toward the door.

You stepped outside, the darkness of the night surrounding you. The street was quiet, save for the occasional distant car or the rustling of leaves in the wind. Your garden was still, and the only thing that seemed out of place was a small vase that had been knocked over by something. Your gaze darted toward it, and that’s when you saw him.

The orange cat, the one Noah had talked about, was there, darting away from the mess it had caused. His fur was a bit scruffy, and he looked thin—almost gaunt, as though he hadn’t been eating enough. There were patches of dirt on his fur, and his eyes darted nervously, as if he were expecting someone to chase him away. He was hungry. You could tell. And he looked like he hadn’t had an easy time of it.

Without thinking, you stepped forward, calling out softly to him. “Hey, it’s okay. Come here.” You crouched down, hoping to show him you meant no harm, that you just wanted to help. But before you could even take another step, the cat whipped around and bolted, darting across your yard toward the fence that separated your garden from the next.

“Hey!” you called after him, instinctively trying to catch up. “It’s okay, come back.” But your words fell on deaf ears. In the blink of an eye, the orange cat had jumped up and over the low brick wall separating your yard from the neighboring house—the one you’d started calling "Omens house". You watched helplessly as he disappeared behind a little brick wall in the corner of their garden.

Just as you were about to turn back toward your house, a low creak behind you made you jump. You spun around, heart thudding, to see the door of the Omens house opening slightly. Standing there, bathed in the soft glow of the porch light, was Noah. He rubbed his eyes with one hand, his voice thick with sleep as he drawled, “Are you trying to break in and rob us, or…?”

His long hair was a tousled mess, falling in loose waves over his shoulders, and his t-shirt hung rumpled, like he had been asleep minutes ago. His eyes, heavy with sleep but laced with amusement, regarded you with a sleepy kind of curiosity. The sight of him—barefoot except for a pair of ridiculous flip-flops with fake green grass covering the soles—almost made you burst out laughing.

You raised your hands in mock surrender. “No, no robbery plans tonight, I swear.” You gestured behind you toward the wall. “The cat—the orange one you told me about. He was in my yard, knocked over a vase, and when I tried to calm him down, he jumped into your garden.”

Noah chuckled, stepping closer until only the iron bars of the gate separated you. He squinted toward the wall you pointed at, as if expecting the cat to appear just because he was looking. “Yeah, he does that. Skittish little guy. He’ll come out when he’s ready. He always does.”

His calm certainty made you smile, but your eyes drifted down. You couldn’t resist. You pointed to his feet, your lips twitching. “I'm sorry. Are you seriously wearing those? And you call me 'weirdo'?”

Noah followed your gaze, then shrugged unapologetically, a slow, crooked grin spreading across his face. “Hey, these are genius. Every day is a walk in the park. Literally.”

You pressed a hand to your mouth, but it didn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out. “You’re ridiculous,” you said, pointing at his flip-flops like they were proof of a crime. “Who even buys those?”

“I do,” he said, unfazed. He stepped back, making a grand show of spinning around like he was modeling high fashion. “Jealous? Don’t lie. You wish you had a pair.”

“Yeah, sure,” you managed, shaking your head.

His grin lingered as he rested his arms on the top of the gate, leaning slightly closer. “But about the cat, you’re doing good leaving food out. He’ll come around. He just needs time.”

“I hope so,” you murmured, your voice quieter now. “He looked so hungry tonight. I just…” You trailed off, unsure how to put the thought into words.

Noah’s expression softened, his voice warm. “Who would’ve guessed the singer of Dark Waves had a soft heart?”

You shot him a look, a grin tugging at your lips. “Who would’ve guessed the singer of Bad Omens walks around in grass flip-flops?”

His smile broke wide, laughter rich and easy. “Touché.”

For a moment, you stood there, the silence between you comfortable. The night pressed darkly around you, but the small pool of light from the porch seemed to hold you both in a world of your own. His hair framed his face in messy locks, and even though he was standing there in grass flip-flops with sleepy eyes, you couldn’t help noticing how pretty he was. It was ridiculous, really, but undeniable—effortless in a way that made your breath catch.

He yawned, a soft, lazy grin still lingering. “Well, goodnight, weirdo.”

You smiled back, feeling lighter. “Goodnight, nerd. Try not to trip on your lawn shoes.”

He blinked, a laugh bubbling up again. “Nerd?"

“If you keep calling me weirdo, I’m going to keep calling you nerd. Those are the rules.”

“Those aren’t real rules.”

“They are now,” you said with a satisfied shrug.

"Alright," He let out one more laugh, and as you turned away, the warmth of his voice lingered long after you reached your door. In the dark, even with the ridiculous flip-flops, he looked unfairly pretty.

The late afternoon sun was dipping low as you walked with Jake to the familiar front door of Noah's house.

You found the gate ajar and Jake didn't even hesitate when he pushed it open, entering their garden.

"This is the right time they report us for invasion of private property." You muttered, following him.

Moments later, the door swung open, revealing Jolly. His tall frame filled the doorway, and his eyes flicked between you and Jake with mild curiosity. He tilted his head slightly, offering a polite, if subdued, smile. "Hey guys."

Jake grinned. "Hey, man. We came over to invite you guys to something. Got a minute?"

Before Jolly could reply, footsteps sounded behind him, and then Noah appeared in the doorway. His eyes landed on you, and for a second, it was like there was just the two of you. He leaned against the frame, his long hair falling loosely over his shoulders. His gaze was soft as he took you in.

“Hi,” he said simply, his voice low, almost intimate.

“Hey,” you responded, a smile tugging at your lips.

Jake’s eyes darted between the two of you, a slow, exaggerated sigh escaping his lips as he rolled his eyes skyward.

“Anyway,” he said loudly, breaking the moment, “I’m having a thing at our place Wednesday night. My birthday. Nothing big, just drinks and hanging out. You guys should come by.”

Jolly exchanged a glance with Noah, then nodded. “Sounds good.”

“You don’t need to bring anything,” Jake added. “Just yourselves. And Folio. You have to bring Folio. It’s just for fun, get to know each other, have a few drinks.”

Noah’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “We’ll let the others know. But yeah, I’m in.”

Jolly nodded. “Same here.”

“Awesome,” Jake said, clapping his hands together. “It’ll be good to chill.”

The conversation lingered just a moment longer and as you turned to leave, you couldn’t help but feel Noah’s gaze follow you until the door finally shut behind him.

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lacy1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme @hurricanesfollowyou @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @missduffsblog

WTMS Tags: @rumoured-whispers @klutzy-kay24 @concretejunglefm @thecoyotescry @kenjipepsi1 @amelia-acero @xxkittenkissesxx @moostress19 @respectfulrebel @super-btstrash-posts

[wroteclassicaly]

A/N: Just something that came to me and wouldn’t leave me alone. I promise I’m still working on inbox requests & other things! ❤️❤️

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, insecure reader, insecure Steve, mentions virginity/ loss, best-friends to lovers, self-esteem issues on both sides, and fluff!

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Wordcount: 1,988

“No, no. It’s okay, Steve. I promise. I understand.” You force a smile so wide that you internally cringe.

You hope he won’t notice, but he does - of course he does. It’s you. And as Steve watches you busy yourself with organizing the countertop snacks you had just unpacked together, slowly turning your back on him - he’s wishing someone taught him better communication skills.

It was a shocking conversation to have. Well, the ending anyways. You’d start off asking about dates and if he had any, he would ask you about that one guy who keeps coming in to rent Risky Business, all because you’d mentioned liking it his first time here. Whatever, that was yours and Steve’s movie, this guy could get lost. But then, you surprised Steve.

To the point, short and sweet… or crude? Steve nearly felt his teeth go through his tongue at your shyness entangled tone, as it wrapped around such a heavily sensual request.

“Do you wanna have sex tonight?”

At first Steve just shook his head, clearing all those fogs from previous head injuries, sure he hadn’t heard you correctly. You were probably asking him if he wanted to find someone to do it with. But you continued, “I do.”

That’s when it became a little alarming for him. Were you going somewhere else with this? To someone else? Or the other option that had his heart rate kicking him the ribs, dusting his bones to ash, making everything tighten, flood his body with heated flush. He’d managed to speak, voice trying to remain impassive.

“You’re a virgin though.” He deadpanned.

You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes. “Thanks, Captain Obvious. But I can still be horny. Probably hornier than you get.”

Jesus. That glaring stare you fixed him with as your manicured nails wrapped around a box of M and M’s. His jugular constricted around a painful vice. The images, ones he can’t deny picturing when he shouldn’t. Why would you want to be with him?

Your sigh at his lack of conversational participation, got him to snap out of it, following you to the candy rack and pressing his knuckles into the countertop to rest upon. He knocked them a few times, opening his line into the topic. “So, you’re sayin’ you really wanna do it tonight with this guy?”

It was causing anxiety to fester in both of you. He wasn’t getting it. You know him like the back of your hand, of course he thinks you want to be with the video renter dude. But that guy is the last person you would ever think about. You’ve learned to be the one with confidence when it comes to Steve in the last two years.

That was different before you’d gone through things together, became best-friends. King Steve and shy girl you. Cliche, only to evolve. You had jutted your hip, forcing a bravado to shield you as you looked into those sparkling amber eyes. His highlights reflect under the cheap lighting in here, making you nearly lose yourself - but you catch it.

“I’m asking if you’d like to come over tonight, have a meal with me, share a piece of cake, and then I want to know if you’ll…” Okay, you lost your train, fumbling into the winds.

Steve was too close, smelling of laundry detergent and cigarettes, his cinnamon gum lingering on his breath, his aftershave and cologne combo. When you had faced his intense gaze, you knew that he was awaiting your words with a reserved patience. As for Steve? He could barely catch his breath, fingertips down to his toes prickling with a nervous energy.

And then you say it… you ask him.

“Will you be with me tonight, Steve?”

You were asking him to be the first person inside of your body, like you didn’t just change his entire world. It’s not that he’d never been with virgins, especially Nancy. Her, even the others entrusting him in his King era - he always felt honored, wanted to make it good for them. But she was special, and you - you’re a different kind of important to him at this stage in his life. Someone he sees, the only person he sees with full certainty in his future.

His heart caved in the moment that his negative thoughts took center stage. You had never asked him out, never made a move. Sex. That’s what you want him for. He loves you and you expected him to have actual sex with you, guide you through painful, pleasurable, unfamiliar, intense sensations, knowing he’s the first and only to do so, and then carry on normally. It’s out of his mouth before he even has a chance to think through other options.

“I can’t, honey.” And once it starts, it just keeps coming. “We’re friends, and sex… the first time should be with someone you love, trust me.”

He was so caught up that he missed your crestfallen features, the way your bottom lip wobbled, and you began to fill in invisible blanks of your own trick-filled mind. Your body was light, feet heavy. You couldn’t do anything, say another word, so you made up something to do while you collected yourself. Boxes that were already unpacked and placed.

Steve kept going, “You understand, right? I’m sorry if I —“

You had cut him off.

Humiliation washes over you, your voice is unsteady. “No, no. It’s okay, Steve. I promise. I understand.”

Sounds stupid to you. You both know you’re lying. And you’re about three seconds away from crying, so you bend down and scoop some spare boxes into your arms. “M’ gonna toss these so Keith doesn’t have a lot to bitch about tonight.”

There’s a lot of things that Steve can do. He can deal with his miscommunication regrets, or he can try to explain things to you in the best way he knows how. Because if there’s anything he’s learned living in Hawkins - every single day is a damn miracle here, considering what people don’t know the truth about. And when he thinks about those vines being wrapped around your throat, he finds his own air supply cutting itself off. He’s out the back door and catching you around the elbow, just as you finish tossing in the last of the boxes.

You won’t look at him, a tell-tale sign that you’re crying and ashamed about it. His stomach feels sucker punched, his fingers reaching out to gently brush beneath your chin, bringing your head into a tilt. Yup. Your eyes are flooded over, soaking your cheeks. You go into immediate overtime, doing exactly what Steve is constantly doing - apologizing.

“I’m sorry for putting you in that position. I was being creepy and unfair. I know we’re friends, I know you aren’t attracted to me, I know that —“

He halts your hyperactive breathing, pressing his forehead to yours as a grounding technique. “Hey, hey. You always tell me to stop apologizing, and I need you to do it too.”

You’re breathless at this action, but it helps soothe your rising panic.

You find yourself incapable of anything more, leaving Steve room to tell his truth. There’s a shaking in his voice, a vulnerability he’s not felt since he falsely thought he loved Nancy still and told her (Nostalgia, it faded fast. He's pretty sure he realized he clung to that to save him from his fears of falling in love… with you. It didn’t work). Your breathing slows and he presses a kiss to your forehead, nose bumping yours as he breaks away. Here goes nothing… but everything.

“I said I can’t because I want you to be in love with the person you’re having sex with. That’s… “ he taps his fingers against his sides, nose wrinkling, and then he finishes. “That’s the most important thing. That he is someone you won’t regret. It’s a lot to handle when it’s your first time. It’s intense when there’s feelings involved, sometimes, even when there’s not.” He’s rambling, all the while you’re watching him practically pace, folding into himself, looking frustrated to put words together. “And I, honey… I just want you to have that. I want you to love the person that gets to experience being your first, because… I think that he would want you to love him, too.”

It hits you like a fucking freight train. Your heart explodes into your chest cavity, a painful ache lashing across your entire torso and sending off alarms into your brain. He said no because he’s scared… He is terrified that you’ll hurt him. So he doesn’t know? All this time and he still can’t tell the looks you give him are your forevers? That the babies he told Nancy he wants - you dream about carrying them someday?

You smile through your tears, wiping them away with the back of your hand, and it’s you that reaches for his massive palm. He squeezes back, wet lashes darting back and forth, trying to gauge what you’re going to say. Your spare hand finds his cheek, brushing along those marks, marveling at how wonderful he is and how he doesn’t know it. He’s so perfect, so beautiful. He’s your Steve.

This next part comes as natural to you as breathing.

Your voice is damp, words gliding right off, eyes wide to receive his reaction. “Why do you think I asked you, Steve?”

You can’t help the sob that escapes you at his free flowing tears. He isn’t hiding it, he’s shocked. He looks like he thinks you’re lying, that this is a dream. His irises dart back and forth at rapid paces, his hands holding onto you as if you’ll float away. “Are you sure that you want me? Because that means that you… It means you’re saying how you… feel a certain way.” He looks as if he can barely swallow.

You’re smiling softly, lifting onto your toes to nearly meet his mouth. Your statement tickles his lips, making his tongue glide across them, grazing you. It sets you both ablaze.

“It means that I’m feeling exactly what you said I should feel, Steve. And it means that I want you. I want to give this to you, if you want it?”

Steve answers without pause given.

“I want it,” His mouth is open, his breaths choppy, words trying to accumulate. His fingers trace behind your ear, resting there, his remaining hand cradling your jaw bone. “You don’t know how much I need it, how much I need… just you.” He says with certainty.

There’s a notion that’s settled within your chest cavity, a build-up fire starting between your legs, stirring flutters in your belly. You edge in closer, lips on his Cupid’s bow. “Show me tonight. What you’re like, what you feel like.”

Never in a million years could you have predicted that your first kiss with Steve Harrington would be by the dumpsters, in the back of Family Video. But as he leans down to dip his nose into your cheek, his lips capture your top lip — it’s all over for you both. That breathless, engulfing inferno drowns you, carries you into a place you won’t go back to, can’t come back from. He pulls you into his arms with a passionate embrace, just as your lips separate with a slick smack, your mouth trailing down his chin to his throat, before you bury your face into the surface of his chest, declaration mumbled right against where his heart races for you.

“Everything that comes with me, it’s always been yours, Steve. I promise.” He’s panting with pure, raw, need. A tightness in his chest and in his damn jeans.

His voice vibrates across your ears, rumbles through his chest when he speaks. “Everything I’ve got to give, you can have it, honey. M’ yours.”

[rottenpumpkin13]

ACGSZ (as kids) board the Polar Express. What happens?

Sephiroth:

First time outside the lab. Clutching his standard, white lab pajamas like a security blanket.

He takes a seat and keeps looking around the train with suspicion, "The physics of this locomotive are impossible. Also, why is no one concerned about a strange man collecting children at night?"

Refuses the hot chocolate at first because "Professor Hojo warned me about sugar and foreign substances." Ends up trying it out of peer pressure and immediately falls in love. His eyes widen at the first sip—it's his first taste of chocolate.

Tells the other kids he never got presents, not even for his birthday. Genesis looks horrified.

Accidentally ends up on the roof and has a philosophical conversation with the hobo about the meaning of life.

Genesis:

Bounces onto the train in festive red pajamas and a little robe, all big smiles and boundless energy. He's missing one front tooth and can't stop grinning because his mom isn't here to worry about appearances and tell him to close his mouth.

He gulped down his hot chocolate eagerly, then began theorizing how he could replicate the recipe. "I bet it has nutmeg! Angeal, do you think it has nutmeg?"

"Genesis, sit down," Angeal groans, tugging him back into his seat for the third time.

Gets into a heated debate with the conductor about the train being a metaphor for "the journey of life."

Is a walking mini dictionary/ encyclopedia combo, is eager to tell everyone all about the fun facts he knows, and tells other children stories.

Horrified to learn Sephiroth doesn't believe in Santa. Spends the rest of the ride trying to convince him and tells him all about how Christmas is magical.

Angeal:

Only here because Genesis dragged him along. Begrudgingly sits down but ends up lecturing the other kids about train safety. "Hold the rail, Genesis. Don't hang your head out the window, Zack. Cloud, are you feeling okay? You're looking pale."

Keeps pulling Genesis back into his seat, which becomes a full-time job.

Lowkey guilty about enjoying the hot chocolate because his parents don't get to try it. "They'd love this." Feels even guiltier when he accepts a second cup.

Tries to help the staff maintain order, which the conductor finds both helpful and annoying. The conductor repeatedly tells him to "take a break, kid."

Gets emotional over the broken toys in the back of the train.

Zack:

Becomes best friends with every kid on the train in under five minutes. "What's your name? That's a cool name! Wanna play a game? What's your favorite Christmas carol?"

Organizes a "Guess That Christmas Carol" competition. Ends up singing too loudly, which makes Sephiroth laugh for the first time.

"GUYS, WE'RE ON ICE! WHY ARE WE DRIFTING? THIS IS AWESOME!"

Convinces the conductor to let him touch the controls and to drive the train.

Cloud:

Cloud is the last child to board, running through the snow with his little scarf trailing behind him. He almost missed the train, but the other four pulled the emergency brake.

Shyly accepts Zack's excited ushering and sits in the corner. Gets motion sick almost immediately.

Slowly warms up to the group, tells them he doesn't receive much presents because his mother can't afford them, Sephiroth nods in solidarity and the two bond over their lukewarm feelings about Christmas.

Tries the hot chocolate but drinks it too slowly and it gets cold. Zack swaps cups with him. In fact, Zack has made it his mission to make sure Cloud has the best time ever.

At the North Pole

When Santa arrives, Sephiroth is picked to receive the first gift. Everyone else cheers, while Sephiroth looks very out of place.

Santa asks him what he wants. Sephiroth thinks of asking for his mother back but pauses. He looks at Genesis excitedly ranting about Santa, Angeal trying to stop Zack from terrorizing an elf, and Cloud shyly smiling and giving him a thumbs up.

"I… I want our paths to cross again someday," he says instead, looking at his newfound friends.

Santa smiles knowingly. "Consider it done."

None of them remember the night when they wake up. But when they meet again years later, it feels like fate.

[lovezbrownies]

Alright, then I'd like to request Yandere Bully.

So, for info. The bully is a girl—let's call this maniac, Lauren—she's 18, and goes to school with her darling, who is the same age. She's blonde, rich, tall, popular, and athletic. She bullies her darling, but deep down she's obsessed with them.

Scenario: How does she react when darling finally snaps, punching her?

Punch me again. (Yan!Bully X GN!Reader.)

You're a genius anon.....

Masterlist.

Synopsis: Lauren's agonized you for years but what happens when her meek servant fights back?

Lauren McCanister x GN!Reader.

Warnings: Bullying, verbal abuse (?), physical harassment, sadism masochism combo, Lauren's horny at the end, lots of yelling, no use of y/n.

As far as you could tell, Lauren’s ‘hated’ you since she’s known you. She’s been tormenting you since middle school and it’s just been getting worse since junior year of high school. Today, like every other day, Lauren had pulled you into the nearest bathroom, pushing you until your back hit the wall, she would lean over you and verbally abuse you before pinching either your upper arm or your upper thigh, even going as far as biting you on your neck or shoulder when she’s frustrated. No matter how hard you fight back she would not budge, she overpowered you with her height and athleticism.

That was a part of your daily routine at this point. The worst part of it all is that she’s completely invaded your personal life. Your parents love her, she’s your stupid neighbor, she loves to visit you at your part-time job, and she’s somehow always in your classes. You’ve barely been able to keep it together lately, but you had to. You’ve only got 2 months of senior year before you can finally move out of your town and into whatever small dingy apartment that you can afford from your savings. 

The past few weeks were torturous for you. Every day, without fail, Lauren would corner you, verbally abuse you, spit on your face, and even scratch you with her medium-sized manicured nails. She just would not stop asking so many questions, becoming furious when you refused to answer, and what’s worse is she always knew when you were lying, and would punish you accordingly. 

You snap out of your thoughts, and a sultry voice laughs from above you, “You better say the truth this time, baby. When are you moving? And where the fuck are you moving to.” Lauren’s been harassing you more lately, all of that just to know where you’re going for university. You haven’t told her, you refuse to. If another year of your life is turned into hell by Lauren McCanister one more time you might just lose it.

You kept looking down, at the dirty bathroom floors. Her leg is in its usual spot, between your own, one of her arms help her lean against the wall while the other rests on your hip. On the other hand you kept all external organs to yourself. “Come on… Don’t you want to brag about how smart you are? How you got into some fuckass Ivory Uni? Don’t ya? You can tell me sweetheart… I’ll let everyone know how much of a nerd fucking loser you are.” Lauren’s hand kept rubbing your hip, sometimes lowering her hand down to pinch a bit of your thigh.

You didn’t want to. No, if you told her she’d follow after you, you don't know why she’s so set on making your life hell but you wanted none of it. “I… I’m going to Prince Holand…” You respond, as meek as possible. Just how Lauren likes it. Prince Holand University is not luxurious at all, it’s the community college closest to your town. The actual university you’re going to is on the other side of the country, Xelera’s People University. One of the most luxurious universities, and you managed to get a full-ride scholarship in XPU. Lauren was definitely your motivation to study so hard, not because she’s your cheerleader, but because you wanted to be as far away from her as possible.

Lauren knows. She knows you’re lying to her face, you’ve been lying this entire time. She’s been asking the same question for days now, and every single time without fail you lie to her. Lauren kept giving you chances to fortify your mistake, tell her the truth, and finally confess how much you love her. But time and time again you lied, you told the entire school the same thing too. But Lauren knows you’re going to XPU. Of course she does she had tapped into all your devices and watched you obsessively through the cameras she had installed in your home.

Lauren’s also been accepted, but mostly due to her mother’s influence as well as paying the school to accept her. She will go to the ends of the world to make sure no one ever likes you, and that you never end up with someone else other than her and that includes spending millions for a year’s tuition. It's not like it’d make a dent in her bank account. Lauren’s just as smart as her mother, who’s a world-renowned scientist who has studied many things, but her mother’s most influential project was “Asexual Reproduction of Sentient Beings through Magic.” A project that changed many lives and nearly doubled the population. That is exactly how Lauren was brought to life.

So far everything’s worked. Lauren’s completely isolated you from the rest of the town through baseless untrue rumours, then she completely invaded your life and spent most of her time with you. Lauren likes to bully you. She loves how you react to her harsh words and pinches, but often times takes it too far, much like she is about to today.

“You fucking liar! If you don’t tell the damn truth NOW! I will hunt down everyone you love and kill them. I will find out where you’re going and I will follow you. You… YOU UGRATEFUL ASSHOLE!! DON’T YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I’VE DONE TO KEEP YOU TO MYSELF!?!” Lauren yelled out, punching her fist onto the wall next to your head. Shocked, you look up at the seething beast. Her eyes filled with rage, her nose scrunched up in disgust and her lips frowning. 

For the first time since she’s corned you today, your eyes met with her own. You can tell how they softened ever so slightly, looking at how fearful you look right now. But of course, her anger takes over her, why wouldn’t you tell her the truth! Lauren’s the only person you even speak to! You should be deeply in love with her! Much like she is with you…

Lauren suddenly grabs your shoulders, harshly shoving you to the wall causing your head to smack against it. She didn’t mean to. It’s like the smack to the head had awakened something in you because you somehow managed to push her toned body away, a hand touching the area where your head had collided with the wall, pulling it back you saw blood all over your hands. She’s so sorry.

Lauren shocked with the sudden show of strength locked eyes with you, you looked so angry yet so afraid. No, look at me with love please. She froze as you yelled, how strong your voice is, she never heard your voice like that before. She would love to hear you yell in pleasure. “What the fuck!? What the fuck is wrong with you, Lauren!?!” Say it again, say my name again. “What do you want from me?!? I was your loyal servant this entire time and never uttered a word!! I want to be left alone! Do you understand?” No, you don’t mean that.

You continue, all the pent-up frustration finally coming out. “I don’t know why you have this sick demented obsession with me but I want out! Everyone likes you but what they don’t know is that you’re worse than all the rumors you made up about me!” I don’t care about them, only you. “From now on, leave me out of whatever sadistic kink you’re into! I hate you and everything about you, you- you cunt!” And with all your might you fully punched her, albeit a weak punch due to your injury, but it was still a punch. Ohhh…

Lauren watched on as you stormed out of the bathroom, hand holding onto your head. You look so dizzy she should go and help you right? But… She can’t. After being punched by you she felt rather… aroused. Of course, you turn her on all the time but this time… All the yelling and degrading things you screamed at her made her feel different than usual, but then that punch. Lauren had never thought she’d be into it but she wanted to grab you, beg you to do it again, do it until you’re satisfied. Your satisfaction is her pleasure after all, and as it turns out her pleasure is degradation. 

A sick and twisted smile came upon her face. She wants you so badly. This little game of yours awakened the beast Lauren never knew she had. And she’ll show you how much you mean to her, she’ll still bully you– that’s a no-brainer– but she’ll send over many gifts, from flowers to sex toys, acting as if she’s a secret admirer. Please use those sex toys while she watches through the cameras, dear.