#b) knew that i would not know anyone and would be stuck in the middle of nowhere with people who were already friends from previous years

[itsthecline]

LOVERS ROCK

DON’T FALL IN LOVE WITH JJ MAYBANK

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ summary one thing you know you have to do— as much as it will kill you , is discourage kie from confessing her feelings to jj

word count 3.5k

warnings profanity , implied sex , mentions of alcohol

AS HUNGOVER as you were feeling , you regrettably could still remember everything that happened the night before. you remember rafe blowing up your phone all day only for you to text him later that night. you remembered drinking nearly an entire bottle by yourself , and you remember jj— the cause of it all.

he had pulled you to the side last night , drunkenly rambling about needing to tell you something. after that conversation , you found the bottle of tequila. and after the tequila , you made the choice of texting rafe despite ignoring him all day.

it wasn’t a healthy decision , but it was made. and that put you in his bed , waking up with a headache and no clothes on. a layer of sweat had stuck to you and the sheets over night. the open window had let in the morning air.

you glanced over at rafe , getting to look at his sleeping form that faced away from you. it was only around seven in the morning by your guess , and you knew he hardly ever slept on his own , always staying up to work hard or party harder. a guilty warmth in your chest rises , not wanting to wake him up but not wanting to leave with saying goodbye first.

rafe had somehow gotten you to form the habit of always saying something to him in the morning. you felt it was overplayed , but you weren’t one to skip out on aftercare— even if it was a simple i’ll text you before you slipped out the door. most of the time , he would wake up to you getting ready and whine out about how you were leaving him.

while you didn’t harbor the same feelings rafe felt for you , it was sweet that he didn’t want to wake up without you in bed next to him. so , you decided to quietly get ready. you peeled the sheets from your body and got out of bed. your clothes had been scattered around the room in a sex fueled frenzy the night before. as quietly as you could , you scooped everything up in your arms and headed to the bathroom.

as much as you hated it , rafe insisted on keeping a toothbrush at his place for you. “i don’t wanna kiss a girl with a dirty mouth,” he explained , plucking your brush from your hand and dropping it in the cup next to his. you had rolled your eyes , knowing it was just his way of admitting he wasn’t seeing anyone else. you didn’t need the sentiment.

however , you would use the amenities while you were at the condo. three bathrooms for seven people wasn’t nearly enough at the house , so you enjoyed rafe’s walk in shower whenever you could.

it wasn’t until you were in the middle of washing your hair when rafe walked into the bathroom , grumbling a good morning before brushing his teeth. after that , he slipped into the shower , standing behind you. his hands were on you immediately after closing the glass door behind him.

“i gotta go right after showering. b texted me saying everyone was headed to the beach. swell day,” you told rafe , melting into his sleepy touch.

“then i’ll be able to see you twice today,” rafe smiled back , pressing kisses into your shoulder blades.

“which means no monkey business while i take a shower,” you replied , gently shrugging him off to turn around and wash the shampoo out of your hair.

the day rafe had confessed his feelings to you was a shock , but you had set ground rules right away. first rule being no sex in daylight. what you had was a sneaky link at best , and that meant only moonlight meetups.

rafe chuckled , eyes cascading down your naked body. “i could be so quick,” he assured you , hands meeting your waist again as he leaned down and kissed your cheeks. with your eyes closed and head tilted back in the water , you thought about it. you had to meet up with everyone later , including jj.

“fine,” you agreed , opening your eyes and wringing your hair out, “quickly,” you added before turning around and bending over with your hands braced on the tiles.

“TOOK YOU long enough , mama!” kie called out to you , one of her hands blocking the sun from her eyes so she could see you making your way to the group. they had already set everything up , just waiting on you to hit the water.

“where even were you?” sarah asked , taking in your damp hair and the outfit on your body, “no where with clean clothes obviously,” she teased as she saw the shirt you wore last night still being worn.

“shut up,” you hushed her with a laugh as you sat down next to her.

cleo gasped , flicking your neck. “she was with a boy!” everyone looked over at you , seeing what cleo was pointing at as she jostled your neck around to inspect you more closely.

“what are you talking about?” you grunted , trying to smack her hands away from your neck.

“hickey!” kie laughed , seeing the bruises forming on your skin.

internally , you were screaming as you physically beat the shit out of rafe , but in reality , you just shoved cleo off of you. “it’s nothing.”

“who you mackin’ on , y/n?” john b asked , walking over to you with pope. jj followed from a distance , not wanting to hear about any other guy’s lips all over your neck and god knows where else.

you frowned , fixing your hair to cover the hickeys up. “it’s no one! can we just surf?” your voice came out brattier than usual , not used to be picked on about hookups like the rest of the group. every morning after sarah and john b or pope and cleo had sex , all of you joked about not getting any sleep yourselves. it was very different when you were on the receiving end of it— having covered all of your bases before today.

“yeah , let’s surf,” jj agreed , clearly disgruntled as he rummaged around in the twinkie a few yards away. hearing him , everyone dispersed , leaving you and your neck alone.

kie stayed by you , watching the way you picked at your nails. she eyed the rest of your friends headed towards the water and nudged you. “hey,” she smiled.

“hey,” you grinned back , nudging her in return.

“you good?” she questioned , resting her chin on her crossed arms as she looked at you.

you simply nodded , looking up at your friends before her again. “m’all good.”

the girl let out a happy sigh. “oh , thank god. because i think i’m going to tell jj how i feel tonight , and i needed to tell you when you’re in an okay headspace because i’m really nervous and need your help,” she rambled quickly like she had been holding it in all morning. she did.

you choked a little bit , shocked at the words you heard. “what?” you gaped , eyes wide as you stared into her big , brown ones. they were filled with sunshine and hope , and it killed you. “are you sure that’s what you wanna do?”

“oh , come on!” kie laughed , smacking your arm lightly, “i think it’s been long enough just keeping my feelings to myself , y/n/n. like , four years and a million adventures long.”

“yeah,” you hummed , forcing a smile to your lips. it didn’t reflect as happy as you aimed for though.

“what?” kie whined , ready to hear you out.

your eyes flickered to hers again. “i don’t know,” you shrugged, “i just—“ don’t have a good way to tell her this, “i just don’t think jj’s the type of guy you should fall for and actually tell him?”

kiara’s brows furrowed in absolute confusion. “but you’ve always told me that we go well together,” she reminded you. and she was right. you did always say that. jj and kiara were two perfect peas in a pod. well , they were before last night.

“you know,” you dragged out the words , even though you knew she didn’t know what you were talking about, “just , like , i don’t think jj maybank is the guy you should wanna date , kie,” you sighed , trying your best to avoid her gaze now. you hated saying it to her , and you didn’t want to see her reaction when you did. “and i think that maybe you should put off tellin’ him how ya feel.”

“okay…” kie nodded , taking in your words as she stared forward , not looking for your eyes either.

the two of you sat in silence for a moment before you shifted and faced her entirely. “do you know why we used to have the no pogue on pogue mackin’ rule?” you asked her , now sitting on your knees with your hands in your lap.

“because it would ruin our friendships! but i don’t think—“ kie started to answer , but you cut her off.

“we’re not relationship material , kie kie,” you corrected her, “me , b , and jj are genuinely kids from the cut that will most likely never make it off this island if we want. even with the gold we found and our business taking off really well! we aren’t the type of people that can afford to care about anyone but ourselves when it comes down to it. it’s not because feelings are messy or nothin’. it’s the fact that we were raised to take care of ourselves first , and jj had it so much worse than us. he’s not the person that you should want to be with , kie. and i know it sounds mean , but you can’t tell him that you’re in love with him.” by the time you were done talking , you were out of breath , not realizing how much you were about to say. your hand came up to cover your mouth in your own shock as kie stared at you. this was the first time you couldn’t place how she was feeling or what she was thinking.

“okay,” she replied shortly.

“okay?” you echoed , tilting your head in confusion.

“okay,” she repeated , looking at you with a soft smile, “if you genuinely think that it wouldn’t be smart to do it , i won’t.”

you were surprised to say the least , knowing kie was such a strong headed person. “seriously?”

“yes!” she laughed, “you’re my best friend. you know me more than anyone else , and the same goes for jayj. if you don’t think it would work out right , i’m not going to risk throwing a bomb into the mix of our friendships. i at least know that isn’t worth it , and i trust you enough to listen,” she explained with a casual shrug.

“okay,” you nodded , facing forward again.

your mind was racing to say the least. you hadn’t expected kie to listen to you. you hadn’t expected to say half of what you did actually , but you did. it was out there now.

after sitting together a few minutes longer , kie stood up and dusted the sand from her skin. “i’m gonna get some waves in,” she told you gently. you smiled and told her you’d catch up in a few.

when she left and joined the group , you let out a sigh. you felt bad about saying what you did about jj. it was true for the most part , but you knew you were projecting a little more than you should’ve. maybe being harsh was good. it clearly got kie to rethink telling jj about her feelings , and that would remove the option of her getting hurt. maybe it was fine.

“glad to know you think so little of me , routledge.”

you heard the combination of sand shuffling and jj’s voice approaching you and closed your eyes. fuck.

“jj—“ you turned to look at him and apologize , but the blonde continued walking. board in hand , he hit the water , not bothering to spare you another glance. you clenched your fists at your side , somehow feeling worse than you did before.

with your luck , the situation didn’t take a turn for the better. as you were grabbing your board to head out on the water , you saw topper and rafe driving up to an open space on the beach not too far from your own camp. they parked , cars unloading the people they brought along. you noticed kelce , his girlfriend , ruthie , and a few others , but your eyes stayed trained on rafe.

he wore a smug smile on his face and plain tshirt you had tossed at him earlier. you checked that your friends were still occupied by the waves and hadn’t noticed the kooks taking over the beach before dropping your board and walking over.

topper was the first to see you , big smile over his face. “miss routledge herself! to what do we owe the pleasure?” he greeted you , arms open as he stepped your way.

“don’t act stupid , topper,” you rolled your eyes , crossing your arms across your stomach when you saw his eyes flit down your body, “just here to make sure you’re not going to bother us at all. it’s a swell day , so no need for any dramatics,” you explained shortly , noticing rafe walking up to you two with kelce in tow.

“found some treasure and now you think you can boss us around , huh , pogue?” kelce’s voice came out with a laugh , but the label he threw at you was anything but humorous.

you glanced at rafe before looking straight at kelce in the eye. “i literally just don’t want problems today,” you scoffed, “but seeing as your yes man is here,” you stared at rafe and nodded to kelce, “it seems like that might not be possible. just keep your dogs on a leash please,” you advised him , eyeing topper and kelce closely. they always looked like they were ready to pounce. that never sat right with you.

with that , you turned away and headed back to grab your board before finally making your way to the ocean. your friends were all sitting idly on their boards waiting for a good swell while watching you interact with the guys on the beach.

“what was that about?” sarah asked , squinting to see her brother popping open a beer.

you sat up on your board and looked back at rafe as well , seeing his gaze locked in on you. “just tellin’ ‘em to leave us alone today.”

pope let out a laugh , his head falling back. “yeah , good luck with that. doubt you asking nicely will help our chances of not getting into a fight,” he mused , recalling all of the times nothing happened before fists were flying between the two groups.

AFTER SEVERAL hours of surfing and drinking— all while jj avoided you like the plague , pope suggested getting some shade back home and starting dinner up. so , you all packed up and drove home. you sat next to kie like always in the back , head resting on her shoulder.

your eyes were trained on the back of jj’s head the whole way home , telepathically begging him to just look at you. you hated when things were off between the two of you , and that was the nicest way of wording what was going on right now.

tonight was the boys’ turn to make dinner , so while you had free time , you grabbed a book and headed outside. your hammock was in a more secluded spot on the property , hung below the only willow tree. it was the first thing you demanded having when building pougelandia 2.0 besides an office where you could store all of your books alongside pope’s.

jj made it happen.

after the past twenty-four hours you had , you relished in the only sound you could hear being chirping crickets and cicadas. the fairy lights you hung up gave you the ability to see the words in the book. it was nice to have some alone time.

but it wasn’t long before your mind strayed from the pages. you couldn’t help but think about how shitty you felt after the beach. sure , most of the guilt was coming from the fact that you got caught saying what you did , but some of it was the fact that you shouldn’t have said it at all.

but was it really your fault? you were just trying to make sure kie didn’t get hurt. and then jj got hurt in the crossfire. fuck if you knew how to feel about it.

“dinner’s ready,” john b’s voice knocked you out of the spiral you were about to start spinning out with.

you looked over at him and closed your book. “okay , yeah. i’m coming,” you nodded , moving yourself out of the hammock.

“you good?” he asked , wrapping an arm over your shoulder as you both walked back to the house, “you seem not good.”

you give him a look before rolling your eyes. “yeah— uh , i just said some things i shouldn’t have and j heard,” you answered , trying to keep it as nondescript as possible. john b nodded slowly , returning the weird look you had just given him.

“okay , well , no fighting at the dinner table. i’m sure you’ll figure it out ; you two always do,” he reminded you before bounding up the stairs and going inside. you followed after him , coming into the dining room to see everyone was already waiting.

once you all settled in , the argument of who would say grace came up. everyone agreed on you. “last one to the table!” cleo defended her case with a shrug.

you hadn’t realized you were sat next to jj until you went to grab his hand. he held it open for you , not bothering to make eye contact still. with a huff , you grabbed his hand and john b’s. you rushed out the prayer as fast as possible , wanting to get it over with so you could eat. and dinner went by fairly easy. you and jj avoided conversation , but other than that , it was normal. you ate , you laughed , you cleaned up , you went to bed.

it wasn’t until you were changing in your room that you heard a familiar knock on your door. you finished yanking the t-shirt over your head and jumped to open the door. “jj—“

“i just wanna know why you think of me like that , dude,” he cut you off , shoving his way into your room.

“i’m sorry,” you apologized immediately , closing the door behind him, “you weren’t supposed to hear—“

“and that makes it okay , y/n?” he practically shouted at you, “i mean , that was pretty shitty.”

you sighed , running a hand through your hair. “i just— i didn’t mean any of it , okay?” you tried again, “it was more of a , i don’t know , diversion?”

“what do you mean?” jj asked , crossing his arms. god , you hated when he tried to act all adult , looking down at you.

you sat down on your bed , gesturing for him to do the same. reluctantly , jj settled next to you with just enough space between you for it to be noticeable.

“kie is in love with you , jj,” you admitted , head already falling to your hands, “and after what you told me last night , i wasn’t about to let her get heartbroken because you don’t feel the same way about her , so yeah , i said shitty things about you to steer her away from telling you , but it’s not like i meant it!” you explained , knowing it still wasn’t coming out the best way, “it was shitty. period , and i am sorry , j.”

jj sat still and quiet , processing your words. “kie’s in love with me?”

“yeah , dude,” you breathed out , leaning back on the bed with your hands holding you up, “full on , sarah and john b , pogue wedding , in love with you.”

“that’s how in love with you i am,” jj whispered , looking down at his hands in his lap.

“i know,” you whispered back , matching his melancholy tone. you stared at him , taking in the way his head hung low and his deep , rapid breathing. “i’m sorry , jj.”

“for talking shit about me to kie or not loving me back?” he asked for clarification , meeting your eyes for the first time all day.

“i do love you! i just— it’s not the same way,” you argued , reaching for his hands, “you’re my best friend. of course i love you , but not like that. i don’t think i’ll ever love someone like that , jj. and i don’t want you getting caught in the middle of me finding out,” you told him , playing with the rings on his fingers absentmindedly.

he went quiet again , really thinking about what he was going to say next. “pretty sure i love you enough for the both of us , mama. and getting caught in the crossfire of your weird relationship issues won’t be the worst thing to happen to me,” he reasoned , trying to come up with a solution you could both be happy with.

“i’ve been sleeping with rafe,” you blurted out. if that wouldn’t steer him away from you , you didn’t know what would.

it took jj a moment to process what you had said. he slipped his hands from yours slowly and moved from the bed. “you are… so unbelievable,” he scoffed , simply shaking his head and leaving your room and you.

rc

wyd

a/n okay here’s my babygirl committment issues angel queen routledge!reader<3 so sorry it took so long!!!

taglist @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @code-canine

[sex-obsessed-lesbian]

The Tale of SOL's Highly Mediocre First Hypnokink Play Partner

CW: mediocre consent practices.

I realized that I posted this on Twitter but never on here, so for anyone who hasn't heard this one before, buckle up for the story of SOL'S Highly Mediocre First Hypnokink Play Partner!

It's the fall after i graduated college, I’m starting to dabble in the scene, I’ve found hypno tumblr and am like “omg this thing I’ve always fantasized about is REAL and people actually use it for SEX???”, and I go to a nearby university's kink group meetup about hypnokink.

As part of the class we pair up and try some stuff. I pair w/ this guy—a college senior, he’s actually tranced to files etc. so he knows a bit more than me at this point about how this works IRL. He does a perfectly middling progressive relaxation induction on me.

I say “Oh okay i think i see how this works” and proceed to ZONK him because like, I'm a good top and have good instincts (and also improv training).

And after that, we proceed to meet up a few times as practice partners—I still live with my parents so I come over to his dorm and he exiles his roommate (Jesus Christ i thought I’d be done with this shit when I graduated).

So the problem with this situation is that I never got a proper pretalk or explanation of what trance did/n't feel like, what hypno could/n't do or make you do, how safety and agency work... So I was both SO WORRIED about doing things against my will or losing control, AND SO WORRIED about it not working on me, that i was unhypnotizable and couldn't do the thing. I can’t realllly blame him, he was as new as I was, but it was… not a great situation.

The thing I CAN blame him for was when I was said “I don’t want any triggers” and he was like “aww come on a reinduction trigger would make it so much easier” and kept wheedling me about it. Not a good look.

(OFC part of the reason he really wanted a reinduction trigger was because he (like me, at the time) only knew how to do 10-minute progressive relaxation inductions, lolsob.)

And I think both times we got together I was like “Dude I’m a lesbian, I'm here for kink practice and I don’t want to kiss or get physical with you” and then at the end he’d be like “Waah I want to kiss you!!”

Against my better judgement I went along with it cuz like, we’d just been doing hours of kinky shit and I was turned on, but like. Surprise surprise, I'm a lesbian. (Also he... wasn’t all that good a kisser. Shocker, that.)

The kicker is, after the second time this happens, he texts me to say “So i just found out i have mono” like SIR I DID NOT EVEN WANT TO BE KISSING YOU AND NOW YOU HAVE MAYBE GIVEN ME MONO???

He did NOT give me mono, turned out I already had antibodies, and I didn’t ever play with him or see him again, so it’s mostly a happy ending but like… bruh.

But on a more serious note, I... still carry some of that baggage with me. (Though obvi this is nothing compared to many people's genuinely traumatic or abusive first hypno/kink experiences and i don't wanna take away from that!)

Never having gotten a real pretalk, going into my first trance experiences so scared (in both directions), feeling like a """bad subject""" (b/c he wasn't great at dropping me AND b/c I didn't feel comfy with him)... has really stuck with me, unfortch.

I am still unlearning that stuff, and so thankful to all the FAR, FAR SUPERIOR hypnotists who have helped me in this journey. It's also why I'm waging a holy war against people who use the term "bad subject" or don't give proper pretalks.

No one should feel uncomfortable when exploring this kink! (Or like, as non-uncomfortable as possible.) I hope it's a joyous thing for as many folks as possible! And that's why I have SO many thoughts about pretalk and framing for new subjects (see e.g. my class notes on Setting Your Subjects Up for Success).

So ummmm uhh thanks for coming to my TED talk, treat your partners right and don't try to kiss people who've explicitly told you not to kiss them, there are more kinds of inductions than just progressive relaxation, stay hydrated! <3

��� FIN 🦈

[aurora567]

Pandora's Gift Ch. 28

Warning: this story will contain mature content such as but not limited to sex, cursing, blood, violence, breeding kink, A/B/O themes ect.

Summary: Sasara and Hatori need to head home for the night. Sakaki never lets them walk alone and there's a good reason for it.

Word count:4084

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Spending the evening with Sasara and Hatori was nice. And once she got over the bit of shock that her dear friend had been getting incredibly close with her old high school classmate, it had been nice getting caught up on what was going on in the world around her while she has been busy either hiding away in her bedroom or throwing herself into her work as she had done yesterday. Though she wasn’t really missing out on much aside from her friends new sex life. But then again it wasn’t like Sasara’s friends that Sakaki knew were that important. Sure she got along with Sasara’s other friends but if it wasn’t hero work she often did not care as much as she probably should have.

Though it felt like her dear friend had something on her mind during the evening, and yet the other woman never mentioned what seemed to be on her mind. Typically Sakaki would have bugged her friend to know what was on her mind. But today she lacked the mental and physical strength to actually harass her friend for information. If it was truly important the woman would surely mention something before she had started to gather up her son who had been watching tv as the two women sat on the couch chatting.

Of course Sakaki would not allow the two to walk home in the middle of the evening from her home to theirs. Sakaki would never forgive herself if something happened to either Sasara or Hatori. And walking around the streets after dark always came with their risks. So with her running shoes quickly slipped on and her keys tossed into her pocket she walked her two most important people home.

“You really did not need to walk us home,” Sasara always made the comment even though she knew the dark haired woman would always do this.

“I know. But I’m going to do it no matter what,” Sakaki answered honestly as always before continuing, “And anyways the fresh air will be good for me after sleeping all day.”

“Well I’m happy you got some sleep today. Ei mentioned how he found you in the office when he got to work. Did you really fall out of a chair?” Damn it Kirishima she was gonna kick his ass for telling her friend about what had happened as she listened to her friend softly snicker.

“Ugh don’t remind me. I was so out of it when the door slammed shut behind him it woke me up and startled me at the same time. Forgetting I was sitting in Bakugou’s huge ass fucking desk chair I had ended up nearly launching myself backwards chair and all. That had not been fun,” She mumbled unhappy at remembering the event the best she could. And although it's not like Kirishima had meant to startle her so much for that to happen. But she was still gonna kick his ass for telling anyone.

“Oh come on, that is funny. I never thought I’d ever hear a story where someone scared you. Ei is lucky you didn’t attack him instead,” The soft snickers continued from the pale haired woman who was holding her son’s hand as he walked between the two women down the street.

“Well you’re not wrong there. Had he done anything like that anywhere else or any other time and I would have probably hit him even accidentally though it most likely would have also been on purpose,” Now it was Sakaki’s turn to smirk softly at the thought of if Kirishima had scared her that way while she was somewhere else, even if she was still asleep. She knew she would have stuck out at the man when he scared her and most likely would have put him on his ass without even meaning to. But with him being across the room and her being in that stupid chair she fell over backwards instead.

“But still. Did you get any sleep yesterday? The guys suspect you stayed at the agency for over twenty four hours. Did you really do that?” Sasara asked softly, feeling a little worried for her friend.

“Yeah. I hid in the women's locker room and got in a little nap before I went for a night patrol with some sexist asshole. Ugh that entire agency is full of stuck up ass holes,” she growled with a huff. Though the sudden feeling of the hair on the back of her neck standing up on end nearly had her faulted mid step, she didn’t allow her body to give away the very odd feeling she had suddenly washed over her.

“Shun you say that about every alpha you have to work with. It’s the only reason Miruko even let’s you work alone. You run off every alpha that you're paired with for patrols. And you know it’s not safe to patrol alone,” Sakaki heard this complaint from her friend a lot. And in the back of her mind she knew Sasara’s concerns were very real. Omegas were attacked, raped and kidnapped all the time. And her being a hero may even put a larger target on her back than normal. Like right now. Was she the target of the shadow that was tailing them? Or was it Sasara? Maybe even Hatori? There were lots of sick minded people out in the world and it was hard to know for sure if the small group of what looked like two helpless omegas and a kid were the entire target.

“Hey Hatori? Do you like having Kirishima around?” Sakaki asked, looking down at the young boy as he looked up at the woman he saw as an aunty and nodded his head with a wide grin. She knew it was rude to suddenly ignore her friend but keeping an extra close eye on the kid was more important.

“Yes! He’s so manly. Two nights ago he tucked me into bed when I asked him if he would. He even slept over and we all had breakfast together once,” Hatori was more than happy to over share about the red head man’s regular visits. Even though she had glanced down at the boy her eyes had not remained on him as she took the chance to glance back behind her trying to locate who was following them. But the action did not give her any results like she had hoped so. Glancing back up at her friend she watched the woman’s cheeks flush a little.

“Oh well doesn’t mommy move fast making new friends. Maybe we should give mommy’s friend a call. You can use my cell,” Sakaki said to the boy before looking up at the woman walking on the other side of her son. Sasara understood very quickly what Sakaki was trying to get at. She wanted to contact the other hero without give away to the fact she was calling for back up.

“Here Hatori, why don’t you call Ei. Tell him mommy and Aunty wanna see him really soon,” Sakaki said, directing the child on what she wanted him to say as she hit the contact name for Red Riot on her work phone. The innocent child seemed ecstatic at the chance to call the hero. As his face light up and his eyes grew wide as he jumped up and down at the chance to grab the device from the woman’s hands and hold it up to his ear as he heard his utmost favourite hero’s voice fill the line.

“Pandora? Why are you calling me on your day off?” Was the professional greeting that met Hatori’s ears as Kirishima answered.

“Ei! It’s Hatori. Aunt Shun told me I should call you. She said her and mommy want to see you soon,” the child was happy to repeat what he was told, completely unaware of the danger he or his mother may be in. But Kirishima seemed aware that the woman would not just let a child use this line unless it was important.

“Where are you and mommy Hatori?” He asked as the three walked slowly with the kid who then looked up at the familiar street but couldn’t read the signs.

“We are about three blocks from the train. We should be home really soon. Will you tuck me in again tonight?” The child was more than happy to keep the red head chatting on the phone. Sakaki was trying to carefully glance around, taking in even the slightest shift of a street light or shadow. The streets were not completely bare but there were not as many people as the street would typically sport during a late hour of the day. Still she couldn’t spot anyone visibly following them but still she felt like she was being watched.

“Sure buddy. I’ll even meet up with you and mommy before you get home,” Kirishima answered the child as he took off from his normal patrol route, well aware of where the group was and he did not hesitate to rush towards them. Even as he heard the happy cheers from the innocent child it at least was good to know they were not yet under attack. But that didn’t stop the uneasy feeling and the drive to get to Hatori and Sasara and protect them. He didn’t even tell his poor sidekick what was going on as they were forced to call after him as they ran after him.

“I’ll see you really soon buddy. Say hello to your mom and Sakaki for me,” he told the boy and of course in the background he could hear the kid pull the phone away from his ear to tell the two woman standing over him what the man on the phone had said.

“Alright Hatori I need my phone back. Say good bye,” Sakaki suddenly told the kid with a slightly louder tone than she needed to get the point across to Kirishima. She needed to now turn her attention to the danger and may need her phone for a more important reason. Quickly the boy did as he was told and bid the hero on the other side of the line good bye.

Taking her cell back from the kid she slipped it into her pocket. And quickly started to usher the two back to walking down the street. She felt Sasara become stiff and tense, unaware of the extent of the danger. But she was aware the situation they were in could very quickly turn dangerous. Sakaki was trained to keep her body relaxed looking while remaining aware and prepared. Though she wished she had her gear. She almost felt naked, no mask, no support gear. But this was why she trained so hard, she would never have a physical enhanced quick and she needed to be able to protect herself and others on her own. Still she could not pinpoint their stalker and it was irking her. She did not usually turn to such measures but she was sure Sasara was going to give it away soon that they were aware of the unwanted danger.

Coming to a complete halt she looked around bluntly looking for someone. This action had Sasara and Hatori stop to look at her.

“Shun?” The soft question came from a worried looking Sasara who was not wrapping an arm protectively around her son.

“Go ahead without me. I have something to deal with,” Sakaki said as she watched her friend hesitate before nodding her head and turning to start walking away before an unfamiliar voice had all three of them freeze.

“Oh come now. Why the rush? I think your friend should stick around,” the voice was rather dry sounded as Sakaki watched a shadow stretch out across the cement ahead of them before someone seemed to emerge from it. Long black, greasy hair was slicked back heavily with jell. Or maybe it was slicked back with grease it was hard to tell. Small dark beady eyes were looking between the two women before settling on Sakaki.

“Oh I recognize you! You're that bitch that was at the warehouse trap with Dynamite. You really put a kink in that plan,” the man sneered at her. So that’s what this was about. She was the target, Sasara and Hatori were simply being dragged into her trouble.

“You're right, I was the hero who was working with Dynamite on that mission. But these two are civilians. They have no stake in our issues. Leave them out of this. I am the one you want,” she said, stepping in front of Hatori and his mother.

“Well aren’t you a brave omega bitch. You’re right I don’t care about them. You are the one the boss would want to get his hands on. He was very angry that his little plan did not work out like he wanted. And that's your fault, you got in the way and had a few of our men arrested too. Boss would love getting his hands on you,” She could only watch as his slippery tongue ran across his top teeth as he grinned widely at her. Repressing the strong urge to shiver under his disgusting gaze she made sure she stood tall and unwavering between him and her friend.

“Well then if it's me you want then come and get me. But let the civilians go. They are not a part of this,” She knew that would not happen, he knew that the other woman and child were important to her. They were her weakness, she would protect them. She couldn't make the first move as that would force her to pull away from them and leave them. They were a burden but that did not matter to her. Although she was accustomed to doing things in the shadows and away from prying eyes and civilians that didn’t mean she didn’t know how to still protect them.

“Hmm I don’t think so. They may be a bit of a hassle but I am sure the boss could find a use for them,” The man said, his wide grin growing as he kept his eyes on the woman standing tall before him.

“Bastard,” she growled out under her breath, unhappy she could not rush him. She was stuck standing back with Sasara and Hatori. She specialized in hand to hand combat. Both her fighting style and quirk worked best when close up. At a distance like this her quirk would knock everyone on their ass that was on the street. And she would not be in a good state without her mask. So using her quirk at the moment was not an option. All she could do was either hopefully talk the criminals off till Kirishima arrives with some back up or wait for him to make the first move and give her an opening to attack him. She hoped she could do the first option but expected the second was going to be the reality.

And of course it was as she watched shadows shoot out across the ground and towards her. She barely had a second to decide what to do. She saw him moving through the shadows but that's all she felt confident knowing about his ability. Dodging seemed best at the moment.

“Sasara take Hatori and try to back away,” She called out as she jumped away from the shadow and watched it take a hard left after her. It was like a heat seeking missile that refused to give up the chase as she worked to try and keep the black shape away from herself but still not allow herself to be forced too far away from her friend. She could hear Hatori’s protests as his mother tried to carefully drag her kid away from the onslaught of fighting.

Multitasking usually was not a hard thing to do. But still keeping one eye on Sasara and Haroti who were trying to back away and give the villain and pro distance, the villains shadow and then he himself was a little difficult to do. The shadow and villain held her attention the most. Could he control more than one shadow? He only attacked her with one and it stuck to the ground. But still was he just toying with her? Trying to exhaust her while she was forced to jump around and avoid his attacks? If he was confident about the time he had to draw out the battle then that would be an option. But out in the middle of a street with other civilian bystanders watching and running he had to know help had been called. Time was not on his side, usually that pushed criminals to act more sporadic. But this man was taking his time, he was toying with her.

The realization that he was not outwardly attaching her in earnest or going after Sasara other than trying to keep her from running off the best he could, was an unsettling thought. Help was on the way before he even attached them. Did he know that? Was Kirishima not going to be able to get to them? Was this a trap of some kind? So many questions and not enough answers. It was annoying. If she could get close enough to let out a short and strong burst of her quirk she would most likely incapacitate the villain, though she would leave herself useless and vulnerable. Still she kept her distance, that needed to be a last ditch try. Even if she could take out this one villain if there were others around fighting with Kirishima when he tried to come and help her then she could find herself in trouble if she gets drunk off her ass on her own quirk taking out this piece of trash. And yet she was not sure if she had much more of a choice. For now it was all she could do to avoid his attacks and try to draw out the attack as long as her body would allow.

Stamina was something she had a good amount of. Well typically it was, but the stress of the day before along with coming off of her heat and fucking up her sleep schedule her body was not as willing as it typically would have been any other given time. It had not taken as long as it normally would have for her body to be screaming at her, sweat covered her face, her clothes clung to her and her lungs were screaming to stop moving so much and inhale more air as she struggled to inhale and exhale fast enough. It was almost embarrassing the state she was in as she worked hard to avoid the shadows that tried hard to pierce her body. For the most part though she was otherwise okay, a few scratches but she had managed to avoid the hits. Where the hell was Kirishima or a sidekick even? Anyone would do damn it. She just was not sure how long she could keep this up.

She was quickly running out of options as she decided with what little strength she had to launch herself at him. She kept herself low as her long legs quickly covered the good couple of meters between them. Her sudden burst of speed to put herself directly in front of the man seemed to catch him off guard. She had assumed he had been stalking her or did some sort of research on her. But maybe he saw her in action at the failed attempt to stake out the warehouse where she and Bakugou had instead found themselves ambushed. Being able to control shadows could explain how he escaped. Her quirk probably couldn't seep into his shadows so if he hid himself he wouldn't be affected. Which meant she needed to make sure she could keep him from running away. Well that was easy enough as his hands had instinctively reached out to either grab her or try to stop her. It was easy to step to the side of his arms, grab one and pull him forwards. With his gravity shifted she watched him start to fall forwards. Not letting go of his arm she twisted it behind him and used it to push him even further into the ground, sending him face first into the sidewalk as she dug her knee into the middle of the man's bony back.

He didn’t even squirm as she pinned him to the ground with such a basic take down move. It felt like he went down too easily. And really she was right he had gone down too easily once she decided to risk it and close the gap. Not wanting to risk anything else going wrong she let out a sudden quick and swift burst of her quirk as she tried to hold her breath. But she kept her quirk up till even she couldn't hold her breath and had to take a deep breath and instantly felt her own head spin and her body grow light before she turned off her quirk. Panting heavily and trying to push off the warm and fuzzy feeling that washed over herself she suddenly moved to nearly just sit on the man before heavy breathing drew her attention quickly over her shoulder as her hero name was called out.

“Kirishima!” She yelled out louder than she needed to with a wide lopsided grin on her face as she sat on the unconcussion man beneath her.

“What took you so long? You missed the party,” She said with a light hiccup and giggled as she looked up at the man who was struggling to not start laughing at the well tipsy woman just sitting on what could look like random civilian.

“Sorry. We hit a little roadblock on our way over. Seemed your attacker was not working alone, or it was the biggest coincidence ever,” The redhead said offering the dark haired woman a hand up to try and help her to her feet. Though the action made the world spin a little.

“Shun!” She didn't even get to try and force her foggy brain to comprehend the man's words as the familiar screech of her friend's voice filled her ears and now she turned her loopy smile to the pale woman who was now holding a worried looking little boy who was clinging to his mother.

“Sasara!…I hope you're okay,” The dark haired woman said unable to get the sentence out without a hiccup in between, her lopsided grin falling as she took in the two worried faces that ran up towards her while the sidekick who was working with Kirishima was cuffing the body who was still sprawled out on the ground.

“We are fine, but are you?” Sasara asked as she walked more slowly up towards the woman watching a wide grin appearing across her face once again.

“Yep I am a-okay,” the woman said, even flashing her friend a thumbs up. Sasara sighed softly, happy to hear her friend was okay. Though in this state it was hard to take her seriously. Sasara had heard about her friend's quirks drawbacks but had never seen it for herself till now.

“Uhm so what do we do with her now?” Sasara asked, looking over at the man who she was now kind of seeing and who was also keeping her friend still standing upright.

“Well I am still on duty. I need to deal with what has all happened. You and Hatori need to get home. And Sakaki needs to sober up before she can write up her own report. I’ll call Bakugou, I’ll have him drive everyone home. Once I’m done with dealing with the cops I’ll come check on you and Hatori,” The redhead said softly to the smaller woman who was still holding onto her son for dear life. And as much as she wanted to argue and just walk home after watching her friend fight to keep them safe she no longer felt safe to walk home alone at that moment.

“All right,” She said softly with a nod of her head as she watched Kirishima pull a cell phone out from a pocket on his hero costume and started calling Bakugou just hoping the blonde had not already passed out for the night. Hell, even Hatori stayed up later than that man.

Next Chapter

[wrxsslin-hours]

random high school au, headcanons

Bret Hart x Shawn Michaels

a/n: The mind wanders when you're watching 90s wrestling clips and y2k highschool movies while drinking beer on christmas day

» Contrary to popular belief, Shawn isn't as much of an idiot as people think. However, that doesn't stop him from playing dumb if it means getting his crush—Bret Hart, the student body president and local band geek—to be his tutor.

» The start of their relationship began on the wrong foot. Bret, the student body president, and Shawn, a degenerate—it's only natural. Shawn had once spat gum into Bret’s hair, and in return, Bret purposely misplaced Shawn’s belongings in areas where they shouldn’t be.

"'Hey, has anyone seen my magazine?' Shawn shouted, annoyed, as Bret attempted to cut off the strings of gum entangled with the strands of his hair. Bret knew full well he had flushed the magazine down the toilet during recess behind Shawn’s back, but he wasn’t going to tell the blonde that.

» Their blossoming love all started when Shawn was assigned a seat behind Bret for a history class. Shawn was too busy passing notes with Hunter one day, and in the middle of writing about how Hunter has a huge nose, Shawn was called to stand up and answer a question. The problem is that Shawn didn’t know the question, let alone the answer to it. This was it; it was over for him. He’s too young and hot to get detention! And when all hope was lost, a ray of light shined down upon him from the heavens. Shawn’s eyes saw Bret’s hands trying to sign a number. And in a sudden burst of confidence, Shawn said, 'One nine one seven.' 'You mean 1917?' '. . . Yes?' '. . . Sit down, Michaels.'

» The biggest sigh of relief escaped from Shawn’s lungs. Thank God for small miracles. When class ended, Shawn tapped Bret on the shoulder with his pencil and said his thanks before disappearing into the hall with Hunter and Chyna in tow.

» Bret didn’t get strawberry-scented gum stuck in his hair anymore, and Shawn found a new copy of his lost magazine in his backpack.

» Shawn found out about Bret’s tutoring gig from his younger brother Owen. Shawn overheard the younger Hart mention it in the cafeteria, and Shawn immediately plopped his ass between Owen and some kid named Koko B. Ware who always managed to sneak in his pet parrot past the school guards. Owen knows about Shawn’s crush on his brother, and he didn’t tell his brother anything about it in favor of watching how it unravels itself.

“Your brother is tutoring?” “Yeah.” “How can I sign up for that?” “You know it would be easier if you just talk to him, right?” “Don’t be ridiculous, Owen.”

» Hunter doesn’t understand what Shawn sees in Bret (“You got a thing for glasses, don’t you, Shawn?”) and Chyna could care less.

» After convincing Owen to have Bret agree to tutor him (which cost Shawn twenty bucks and a packet of gum), Shawn finally had the chance to spend more time with Bret—as if he couldn’t do that by just talking to the Hart instead of losing money and dignity during the process. But ah, the trials and tribulations of love.

» They spend an hour in the library every day after class. Shawn would be the first person there, fidgeting in his seat in the corner of the library, waiting for Bret and thinking of any suave pick-up lines to say (No, he doesn’t end up saying them). Bret would appear 2 minutes late, on the dot, every time. Bret’s got his hair in a ponytail just in case Shawn has plans of painting his hair with his gum again.

» Shawn made the foolproof plan of pushing up his stupidity so Bret can spend more time tutoring him.  Bret immediately knows Shawn’s faking his idiocy from the get-go. There’s no damn way Shawn doesn’t know the multiplication table. Shawn is not amused.

“You know you could just say that you want to hang out more, right? “I can? *Insert that one emoji with big shiny eyes*”

» They start spending time together after their tutor sessions. Become great buddies. Yay! Shawn’s too scared to confess his love because he doesn’t want to ruin his friendship with Bret. And he doesn’t know that Bret is also on the same boat. It’s ridiculous, quite frankly. They’re both messes and their friends are there to watch it all go down in real time.

» Shawn thinks if he learns to play an instrument, then Bret will like him more, and Bret strongly believes that if he dresses like Shawn more, then Shawn would find him attractive (“Trust me, Owen. I’m never wrong.” “Uh-huh.”) And that segues into Bret buying a leather jacket and Shawn failing to play the drums. It all accumulates into them confessing their feelings to each other at the same time one afternoon. They are both awfully embarrassed but thrilled afterward.

» Let this AU go in whichever direction you want. Brainrot is strong in this one, I fear.

[littlehen]

I just had a situation while I was in my car that made me equally very annoyed and amused - under the cut:

So my brother wanted to go to the shops and he didn't want to drive because he knew it would be difficult to park (sales, busy) so I offered to drop him off. He has given me hundreds of lifts over the years, and now that I've finally got my driving phobia under control, I love to offer lifts because a) it's nice to be able to give back and b) it's all practice and the more experience I have, the more often I drive, the more normalised it is for me.

So I drive him to the shops and I drop him off in the car park right next to John Lewis. Fine. Then I have to turn around. I realise that it's a dead end and I'm going to have to do like a 50-point turn because this car park area is very tight and my car is very big. (Our family car is a 2007 Citroen Xsara Picasso, kind of minivan.) Well, never mind, every space is parked up, which is bad because it gives me less space to turn, but good because no-one is waiting to get down this end to park, so I'm not going to have a lot of cars waiting angrily while I manoeuvre.

So I start doing the turn around, and there's this posh old lady in her 70s gets out of one of the parked cars. She stands and watches me while I go back and forward a few times. I'm getting a bit stressed, which is the worst thing you can do, so I decide to keep calm and get out of the car to figure out how far I would be able to move each way. Otherwise, I'm stuck, and only I can get myself out of this situation, so I need to keep a level head. As I say, no-one's waiting, it's fine. And I thought, maybe this lady here might help me.

I get out and I smile at this lady and say, 'Phew! Stressful!'

She says, 'I BEG your pardon?' like she's astounded that I've chosen to address her.

I gesture at my car wedged between the two rows of parked cars and say, 'This. It's stressful, trying to turn around here!'

She says, 'What ARE you doing?' Proper Lady Bracknell.

I say, 'I'm just trying to turn around, but it's a bit tight.'

She says, 'You're not going to just LEAVE that there, are you?'

(Yeah, I thought I'd just fling my car across both lanes, wedged in the middle of the car park and saunter off, like that'd be a totally sane thing to do.)

I say, 'No, no, I've just got out so that I can see what to do, figure out the best angle to get out of here.'

She says, 'Well, it's not THAT difficult.' (So fucking rude!)

It's too complicated to say, well I've only just got over a debilitating seven-year driving phobia, my confidence is fragile, I've got fuck-all spatial awareness and this is a big car in a tight space, and I'm frightened of bumping into anyone else's car, and yours is right in my firing line, so I'm letting you know that I'm being super-cautious here and trying to turn around safely. And yes, I think even experienced drivers would say it IS that difficult, actually. (When I got home and told my dad, he said he wouldn't have dropped off there, because it's too hard to turn round, SO.)

So I say, 'Ah yes, but I'm a new driver, I just passed, so it's still a bit tricky for me.'

She says hmm and stands there clutching her shopping bag. I say, 'I'm not blocking you, am I?' (She says 'pardon?') I repeat myself.

She says, 'No!' as if it's a stupid question and continues to stare at me as if I've just vomited on her shoes.

I say, 'Okay, well, back to it!' And I check the space I have behind the car, in front of it, do pantomime measurey hands, and then hop back in my car.

So this lady then just goes and stands on the pavement and watches me get out of this tight space. Arms folded, tutting and shaking her head.

Back when I genuinely was a new driver, this for sure would've made me break down and have a panic attack. The first thing I said to her was that this was stressful for me! What the fuck. I just focus on what I'm doing and try to block out Lady Cowface's overly theatrical judgement of me.

Anyway, a couple of shimmies and I'm free, I'm ready to drive out. Takes no more than a minute. So I look out the window, give her a big grin and a thumbs up, as if she's actually been helpful (all good now, thanks!) and drive off. By now there are a couple of cars waiting, and the nice man in the first one, who's been hanging back and not hassling, gives me a friendly little wave as I go by. LIKE A NORMAL PERSON.

I just cannot believe what a cold bitch she was! I think if I'd been in her position, and had that interaction with a friendly person who was clearly struggling, I would ONE HUNDRED PER CENT say, 'oh, can I help?' OBVIOUSLY, YOU OFFER TO HELP. I'd have offered to guide the driver out of the tight spot, give a little tap on the bonnet when they were too close to another car, waved them out like I was air traffic control. (Especially if there was a risk of them bumping into my car!) Or the other kindly option is to grin and say 'ah, good luck!' and walk away. Not be rude, tell them it's not that difficult, and then stand there watching with arms folded. That's actively making it harder. And: it's Christmas time! Mr Scrooge!

Anyway, it reminded me that over the years of working in the shop, I very regularly had to serve rude, entitled, impatient, ill-mannered boomers, and she was exactly one of those. Presumably they're not just that horrible when they're directly interacting with retail workers. They're also walking around being grumpy and obstructive outside of the shop as well. So there we go, I just met a shitty customer out in the wild, what can you do.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for singlehandedly ruining my brother's life with my complacency?

For context, I (20NB) was frequently psychologically tormented by an entity that takes the form of a forest/state park near my town (no clue how old it is or if it has a gender) for a few years when I was a teenager, and once it had eroded my humanity enough it turned me into an extension of its power. It let me keep my free will, if you choose to believe in things like that, so when I was eighteen I fled to a different state under the guise of going to college, hoping that distancing myself would weaken the entity's grip on me. It didn't, but at least I was 600 miles away from it now, and I made sure to keep myself isolated from everyone else at college so I couldn't hurt them.

Fast-forward to last January. After two years at college, I found out about a kind of... medication, we'll call it, that I thought would loosen the entity's grip on me. The medicine functions by fogging over your memories of supernatural things existing, inducing a sort of... weaponized executive dysfunction, for lack of a better phrase? Anyway, that stops you from acting on your knowledge, which exploits the fact that these sorts of entities don't care about much other than how people who know they exist choose to act on this information- so, if you're physically unable to act on your knowledge they exist (which you barely remember anyway), they can't affect you. After giving the medication a trial run, I went back to my hometown to visit my brother N (17M).

Since I'm not all that human anymore, I found out early on that the entity retained its hold on me and was able to pull me back towards the state park even when I was medicated, but it never did anything once it'd got me there, so I got cocky and figured it must not be capable of affecting me past that. Plus, the entity had never done anything to anyone but me before, at least not that I knew of, so I'd spent years figuring I was its only victim and getting complacent because of that... and if it did finally kill me one of those times, I honestly think I would've welcomed it. Things were fine at first, though the entity somehow managed to break down the medication's effects once or twice, and I got to feel like a normal person again for the first time since middle school. But after a few weeks, the entity broke through the medicine's effects again and revealed to me that its real target had been N the whole time. That was why it kept pulling me back to the state park while the medicine was preventing me from consciously realizing what a bad idea that was: it wanted to get ahold of N, who I'd been bringing with me the whole time like an idiot because I still thought I was the entity's sole target. To make matters worse, when it told me this it was referring to N with the same kind of title it'd given me, which I knew it wouldn't have done if it wasn't absolutely sure I wouldn't be able to remove its influence from him.

I panicked and rushed N back to his car, which was when I had the idea that maybe if I overdosed him on the medication I'd been using, he'd go from mere brain fog to outright amnesia. I was still panicking and didn't take the time to think that idea through, so I just tackled N, shoved a bunch of my pills down his throat, and ran. I was too afraid of what I might see if I stuck around to make sure he was okay long-term (I guess it was kind of a Schrodinger's cat mentality or something?), so I went back to college and tried to pretend none of it happened. I did keep an eye on the news from our town and didn't see anything alarming, and that was enough that I could lie to myself that maybe N was miraculously fine.

N did end up forgetting the time I'd spent back in our hometown as planned, but I forgot to account for the fact that he'd been recording videos during almost all of the times we went to the state park, wanting to use them as B-roll for a film class project. He didn't even make it a month before finding those recordings on his camera and starting to piece things together on his own, during which his mental health and personal life started falling apart for obvious reasons. (He also started getting intermittently stalked by an unrelated entity during this time, but it's more a pest than anything else, I've already got plans for disposing of it.) Once I found out about all this, I came back to our hometown to clear things up for N, especially making sure he was aware that all of it was my fault: I wasn't about to pretend I'd been controlled by the entity the whole time or something, he deserved the whole truth. I'm pretty sure he's only tolerating my presence now because he needs my knowledge about how supernatural things work. It hurts, but it's not like I was expecting him to take it well, so I'm not planning to stick around once I've made sure he knows everything he needs to.

That's everything important. The answer seems pretty obvious, if you ask me, but... AITA?

[life-love-and-lotr]

@chaos-in-bright-pink-hair-dyes Killjoys Week 2023 Day 2- Smoke

Smoking was banned within Battery City. It was considered an unclean pastime that only damaged the lungs of its hardworking citizens. But Frank had already decided that scarred lungs were worth the freedom he felt when smoking, so made his weekly trip to the black market to buy a packet.

This time the trip took 10 times longer than it usually did due to the abnormal drac patrols polluting the streets. It wasn't unusual to see the masked figures, but the sheer numbers were concerning. The only time that they came down in such numbers was when there was a break-in (or out) in the middle of the city. And that always ended in chaos.

Frank pondered the mystery as he walked, taking his time to not get caught. He ended up in the familiar warehouse that held the market. Illegal weapons, android parts, and medications, all ready for purchase. The target for Frank was a man who only went by the name Horseshoe Crab. His attire, an all red ensamble complete with top hat, made it pretty obvious that he was a killjoy. A killjoy who always had a knack for getting out of sticky situations. If anyone here knew what had happend, it would be him.

"Hey Horseshoe. Were you the reason why there are so many drac patroles out? Seems like something you would do."

The older man, looking mockingly shocked at the accusation, stuck his hands in the air in defeat.

"What do you mean? I would never do anything to rile up the pigs. How very dare you. Seriously though, it wasn't any of the Suitehearts. From what I heard, two of the top Scarecrows sons just escaped the city. They have become true killjoys now. Good for them thats what I think. Anyway, want your usual?"

Frank had to blink away the sudden reilisation from his eyes. His mother had two brothers come through her transition house just two days ago. They looked too clean and scared half to death. The youngest didnt look much older than 8, the oldest being the same age as Frank. She had shooed him away from the room when helping them, then sent them away faster than most. She must have known how important they were.

"Thanks. Hey, tell Doctor B we might need more medication. That breakout is gonna cause hell on the voluenteers. And I know mom will wanna be prepared when shit hits the fan"

"Will do. Be careful out there. They are getting more dangorus every passing day. Wouldn't want to bury my best customer now would I?"

Frank did his best to squirm his way out of Horse Shoes inevitable head rub, messing up his sholder-length hair. No matter how hard he tried to be a sarcastic asshole, he always ended up just being a true Suiteheart.

"You to. I don't wan't my favourite dealer to go completly out the window do I?"

After handing the credits over Frank left, a single pack of cigarettes in his hand. He waited until he got to his usual quiet smoking place before pulling one out. He was able to climb through a slot in the wall surrounding the city and perch upon the top. It looked out onto the desert, a beautiful sandy expanse that Frank could only dream of getting to. Just like the two mystery boys.

As he lit the cigarette, he thought about them. How they were just left to learn the desert on their own. He worried about them as the length of the nic stick shortened. And as the final smoke cloud breifly covered his view, he considered what it would be like if he left. Nobody would care enough to send an army to bring him back and he sure as hell wouldn't have a transition house to go through. His mum would string him up by the neck if he even asked to leave.

A sudden noise pulled Frank away from his contemplation. He didn't even get the chance to stamp out his cigarette before his vision flashed white. As he was pulled away from the safest place he knew, the packet fell to the floor. The last reminder of the boy he used to be

[hyliandude]

I had a dream last night.

There was a middle eastern guru that seemed homeless and dirty in the streets. He asked me to follow him to help save the people i care about. He seemed solemn and genuine so i went with him in the streets without care of calling off from work.

He took me into street markets in between a temple with devout followers of another religion, but there were people of all ethnicities.

I tried catching up to him but he was so fast, and everyone knew and bowed to him. There was this column everyone was huddled around at one point, and before proceeding he chanted something around it, seemingly “blessing” the column and gently told people to respect the area. Everyone got away from it (he later told me the column was unstable and needed repairs, so this was the fastest way to get people to clear the area and be careful with the column).

We entered this kitchen area and he changed attire. Food safety prep attire? I didn’t question it, but it seemed like we were going into some sort of food kitchen or prep kitchen to prepare meals for the homeless. Ok. I didn’t mind at all, and i remember thinking about how small the operation was. We were only probably going to feed like 80-100 people, but i also realized how MUCH more of an impact this was than me sitting at a desk pretending to do work for companies i know nothing about. (The attire they gave me was some sort of bib, and event shirt. It was a memorial shirt, for someone named Carla Mae, but i knew it wasn’t you b/c you were alive in my dream and the picture of the person was someone else. But it still made me think about the event. Before i could speak to anyone about the coincidence, my shift was over and the guru was having me haul leftover stalks of some of the food we prepared out back. All waste, and super heavy).

There was a lady out back, either washing clothes or collecting trash to place it in a giant pile of a courtyard. There weren’t many people there because of the horrid smell, and i think even residences above were no longer there because of the stench. It was only the one lady. She was peeling something with a knife, and then i realized she was mincing the trash to make it easier for herself to toss it. She took pride in her mundane task, but no one seemed to appreciate her efforts. The guru greeted her like a long time friend, but she was blunt and almost rude with him the entire time (in hindsight, im sure people were rude to her all the time because of the stinky area she was patrolling so she developed this personality as a defense mechanism). The guru conversed with her and eventually convinced her to hand use each a knife. I took it gladly. With the leftover stalks of food waste we had, we started peeling them to better expose the insides. The lady asked us why we were “taking her job” and the guru replied that we were just here to help. To which she relaxed and continued to quietly converse with us. The guru would peel a few stalks from the pile we had, and tossed them into her pile. He then gestured to me to do the same. After a few hours, we were finished with our pile, and finished sprinkling the chunks across her pile. She thanked us, and so did others before we left (i didn’t know, but it turned out that the leftover food stalks were a natural deodorizer. The guru had killed 2 birds with 1 stone in his efforts). It took a while, it smelled, i was sweaty and gross. But i felt so fulfilled and impactful, I can’t even explain.

(Throughout this entire time there’s been music playing from the temple area. Id had it stuck in my head since i woke up, but it’s now 6:55 AM and i dont remember how it goes anymore).

Later in the day we are in the temple, for some service i suppose, and i swear people are huddling around the guru as we walk like paparrazzis, but with more decorum and respect. He’s not mad at any of them, and he addresses those he can without losing sight of his path through them.

The only one i remember was a man asking for the presence of “god” in his village. He was wondering what it would “cost” him to have god come and be at his village. This question stood out to me, and it mustve stood out to the guru too, because he stopped and turned to the man:

“This is a common question, but an easy one”

I assumed he’d be asking for a donation of sometime, which was a concept that disillusioned me to the entire establishment.

The guru then proceeded to talk to the man. His village was going through a rough time. This man was the only one of strong enough mind and body to come out into the temple from afar to seek help. The guru said it would cost him the salary of multiple builders, cooks, fisherman, etc. The man said that he was strong and well versed in many skills, but that he had no funds to pay more people to come and help in the village with those things.

The guru then whispered something to the man, which must’ve shocked him immensely as i saw the wave of revelation come over him, and he left the crowd!

The guru turned to me and quickly said

“Why pay for god if he’s already there?”

There was another scene where i was at a private rooftop dinner with the guru and a family overlooking the city. We were clearly there for the father, a strong and clearly wealthy man who had evidently been religious in the past. He wanted the guru’s influence and advice on military and commercial conquest, and i dont remember what else was said, but we just left. Something about how the man had lost sight of “all his past lessons”.

In the end, i didn’t quite understand why i was playing “hooky” all day. I didn’t know how to “save those that i love”. He told me people just want to be heard and understood. Not a surface level thing, but truly HEARD and UNDERSTOOD. It seemed so cliché, but he also mentioned how the time we spend with our loved ones is 1. An investment and extension of ourselves that they’ll remember and learn from. A piece of ourselves inevitably makes it to them, and he wanted to make sure it was the BEST piece of ourself. And 2. The time is something we’ll both cherish. At the end of the day, we’ll all be gone without thoughts or memories. In our final moments we’ll regret spending time on a computer or pointless meeting instead of with the people we love. To save them, means saving ourselves of course, but it means spending as much time with them. They aren’t with us if we’re not spending time with them, just like they won’t be with us when we’re all gone - so spend as much time with them to save them. Take that time back with them. And cherish it.

I still had the jaunty music stuck in my head. I vividly remember what i was wearing, what he was wearing, and what others were wearing.

Just wanted to jot all this before i forgot.

[darcyfangirlsfrequently]

I Met You At the End of the World - chapter three: The World Finds Ways to Sting You... and then One Day Decides to Bring You Something to Believe In

Chapter summary: Luke dwells on his newly-discovered feelings for Penelope amid a case about medical experimentation, the two become closer, and a major break is made in the case of the hitmen hunting Garcia.

Chapter word count: 5527

Total word count: 16,622

Songs referenced: "Something to Believe In" by Jeremy Jordan and Kara Lindsay, and "It's Nice to Have a Friend" by Taylor Swift

Can also be read here on Ao3

“I’m in,” Penelope declared, a smile on her face as she dropped a purple fluffy pen to the center of the table where she and Luke were playing poker that evening after work. Something had shifted between the two of them the night before when they’d had dinner, but she didn’t know what. All she knew was that she enjoyed spending time with him, and, ever the optimist, she was extraordinarily glad that this terrible situation had brought such a wonderful friend into her life. In times like these, it’s nice to have a friend. 

Luke, on the other hand, knew exactly what had shifted between them the night before. Or, at least, what had shifted between them from his point of view. However, he had elected not to tell anyone about his newly discovered feelings. Not any of their friends, and certainly not Penelope. It was neither the place nor time for any of that, and, the more he thought about it, Luke felt slightly guilty about his feelings. He was here to protect Penelope, not fall for her. Besides, he’d be leaving soon enough, and he was sure those feelings would fade as soon as he no longer saw her every day. Besides, he didn’t want to make things awkward when she inevitably rejected him and they still had to work together. Penelope was already in the middle of a really terrible situation, and it would be incredibly insensitive of him to try to pursue anything with her. Besides, Morgan would probably be none too pleased with him, considering both her current circumstances and the fact that she was like family to him. Luke had decided that being her friend was all he could ask for, and friends was more than enough for him, and definitely better for her. He knew that in a situation like the one she was currently experiencing, it’s nice to have a friend. So, he decided that he’d make it his personal mission to make her smile at least once a day. Today, that was being done through poker, thanks to a deck of cards he’d brought from home, and her little knick knacks that she’d volunteered as her side of the “pot,” not that Luke would keep them should he win, knowing they were her prized possessions. Besides, he wouldn’t need to. Her smile at playing their game would be enough of a prize for him. God did he sound sappy. He knew it, he just couldn’t find it within himself to care. He was just throwing in whatever he had on him that could be deemed of value, but again, it was all for show. 

“Eh, I think you’re bluffing,” Luke replied. “So, I will see your fuzzy pen, and I will raise you…” he paused for a moment, rifling through his pockets, “my ten-stamps-for-a-free-hot-dog card for the hot dog stand down the road from my place.”

“I don’t understand why we’re betting,” Penelope laughed. “I don’t eat meat!”

“Well A,” Luke said. “I have no use for all your fuzzy pens, so we’re even, and B, poker is no fun unless you have something on the line.”

“Fine,” Penelope conceded. “Give me three cards.

Luke did as she asked, and checked his own hand. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Penelope groaned when she looked at her new cards. “What? Really?”

Luke tried to swallow his laugh. “You have heard the expression ‘a poker face’ before, right?”

Penelope frowned down at her cards, then up at him, then her frown morphed into a smile as she stuck her tongue out at him. “You have heard it’s rude to make fun of people before, right?”

Luke threw his hands up in the air in mock surrender. “I am not making fun!”

“I know, I know, I’m just teasing.”

Luke opened his mouth to make a comment, but she cut him off with the point of a finger.

“But! Before you say ‘I thought it was rude to make fun,’ teasing and making fun are not the same thing.”

Luke laughed again. “Alright, alright, look, whatever you say.”

She smiled back at him, but her smile slowly drifted away, and he noticed.

“Hey, are you okay?”

She only shrugged in response. 

He reached his hand across the table to rest it on hers. “This won’t last forever, Penelope."

“It feels like it will. I’m scared. There are people out there who want to hurt me, I’m scared I’m gonna be stuck in here because there are people that want to hurt me…”

“Hey, that’s why I’m here, okay?” Luke assured her. “To help make sure that those people out there who want to hurt you never get the chance to.”

She nodded, and then her phone rang. Picking it up, she sighed. “It’s Hotch. We have a case.”

She began packing up their things, and he stood up with her and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Listen,” he said. “We’re going to take these guys down. In the meantime, you just have to stay strong. Okay?”

She nodded. “Okay.” She leaned in and hugged him. “Thank you.”

He leaned his head down to her shoulder, the way he always did when he hugged someone. “Any time.”

***

Penelope stood at the front of the Round Table Room, the presentation ready on the screen behind her. She clicked a button on her remote, zooming in on the location of this particular case. “St. Augustine, Florida, two bodies were found early this evening in a remote wooded area just west of the city. Neither have been identified yet.”

Something about the pictures that popped up on the screen caught Tara’s attention. “This woman’s complexion…”

“She was exsanguinated,” Penelope replied, explaining why the woman was so pale. “Which is a really fun word to say, but I didn’t know its really terrible meaning until I started working here.”

Luke had to duck his head down to look at his files to hide his smile. God, she was adorable. 

“Odd that only the female victim had her blood removed,” Rossi said. 

“Well the male victim might have been collateral damage,” JJ suggested. “Or a witness that needed to be silenced.”

“I mean it is the kind of message that rival drug gangs will send to each other,” Luke pointed out, having recovered from his little moment and trying to make sure no one noticed. Trying to keep a secret from profilers could be hard, but he was banking on the facts that he’d been undercover and the team didn’t know him well enough to know his tells to help him keep the secret. He could only hope then that he didn’t slip up around Morgan, the only person who would definitely be able to pick up on it. “The Curiel syndicate recently set up shop in Florida.”

“Except it looks like these two were meant to vanish without anyone the wiser,” Rossi countered. “How is that a message?”

“Well cartels have also been known to use murder as a form of voodoo,” Morgan replied. “In 1989, a University of Texas student was murdered by a satanic gang while on Spring Break.”

“Well my gut says it has nothing to do with drugs,” JJ stated. “More like straight-out vampirism or someone with a blood fetish.”

Hotch was already standing and putting his files in his briefcase. “It’s late, and we need to hit the ground running. Wheels up in 30.” 

After a quick call to his sitter to tell her he needed her to take Roxy for at least the next night, Luke and the others were right behind him on their way to the airstrip.

*** 

Once on the jet and at cruising altitude so Penelope could call in, the team continued to discuss the case. 

“The coroner attributes the lacerations on the bodies to animal bites,” Morgan said as he flipped through the file. “Apparently there’s a lot of raccoons in the area.”

JJ sighed. “Maybe so, but the media’s going all-in with Satanic Mutilation.”

Hotch considered this. “It’s happened before. The West Memphis Three case showed how animal activity on a corpse could be mistaken for ritualized torture.”

“After the first bite, the insect infestation expands and distorts the open wound,” Rossi added.

“Okay,” Penelope cut in. “Here’s my finger, here’s the mute button. Are you guys done talking about critter damage?”

Luke smiled at her comment, knowing the animal lover in her was probably none too pleased to be hearing about all the disgusting things an animal could do to a dead body, and finding her reaction endearing.

“You can put your finger down, Baby Girl,” Morgan assured her. “We’re done.”

“Thank you. And JJ’s right, local news and radio outlets are going wild with this as a blood-worshipping cult murder.” She paused for a moment, then continued. “Hey, new information. Both of those bodies have just been identified. Cheyenne Pravato, 23, and George Henning, 71.”

“Any connection?” Hotch asked.

Luke would be surprised if there was no connection, since the age and sex difference meant that they couldn’t both be surrogates, at least not of the same person.

“My level one search says no, my level two through twenty await. Cheyenne was a waitress that is currently unemployed, Henning was a retired steelworker from Pennsylvania, lived in Florida for a few years. They both went missing three days ago.”

“Three days?” Tara repeated in shock. “The coroner estimated the time of death as less than twenty-four hours from the time of discovery.”

“Means the unsub had the vics for two whole days before killing them,” Luke stated. “So he almost definitely has some kind of secondary location where he holds and kills them before dumping their bodies in the woods.”

“Preliminary indicators show no sign of torture or sexual assault,” JJ said. “What is he doing with them?”

Hotch took the reigns then. “Dave, you find out what you can about Cheyenne from friends and family. Morgan, you do the same for Henning. Lewis and Alvez, you go to the M.E., and JJ, I need you to reign in the media. Hysteria’s growing and we need to contain it.”

***

Once Luke and Tara arrived at the M.E.’s office, they were greeted by a Dr. Gaylen who was quick to get started.

“I’m still waiting on the full tox screen from the male victim,” he informed them. 

“We think they may have been held for up to two days,” Luke said. “Were they fed?”

“Stomach contents were empty, but nutrition and hydration levels were normal. My guess is they were both fed through an IV. I did find one curiosity.” Dr. Gaylen pulled back the sheet over George to reveal his legs.

“It looks like another animal bite,” Tara remarked.

“Not under magnification,” he responded. “It’s actually a surgically precise triangle.”

Tara and Luke exchanged a look and examined the mark closer. A curiosity indeed.

Dr. Gaylen’s phone rang then, and he went to answer it. “Dr. Gaylen… You’re positive of that?” He hung up the phone and returned to the agents. “The tox screen and DNA tests on George Henning just came back. Are you ready for this? Most of the blood in his body isn’t his. It’s Cheyenne’s.”

Luke’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. It was what?

***

The two returned to the police precinct the team was working out of, and relayed this new discovery to them.

“The blood drained from Cheyenne was put into George Henning?” Morgan repeated, disgusted. 

“I agree that that is strange,” Tara said. “And a triangle was cut out from his calf muscle.”

“Dear Diary,” Rossi said. “Just when I thought I heard it all…”

“And there’s still something in the toxicology screen the M.E. can’t identify,” Hotch said.

“Yeah,” Luke confirmed. “We’re hoping we’re going to find out something more in the next few hours.”

JJ walked into the room then, back from meeting with the media outlets covering the story. “So, it took a little arm-wrestling, but the media finally saw the wisdom in toning down the whole demon worship angle.”

Luke knew she was talking metaphorically about arm-wrestling, but he had no doubt from what he’d seen of her in the field that she could most likely absolutely destroy practically anyone in an actual arm-wrestling contest. He wondered if he should challenge her to one one of these days. 

“Don’t take a victory lap just yet,” Rossi told her, handing her a file. 

She examined the paper he had given her and winced. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m just trying to work out the whole calf muscle business,” Tara said. 

“Triangles are big in Illuminati symbolism,” Rossi pointed out.

Morgan considered that. “This is bending back toward cult behavior.”

“What did you find out about George Henning?” Hotch asked him. 

“According to the neighbors, the guy was a shut-in. No friends or family, a lot of health problems. Hypertension, Parkinson’s.”

Rossi’s brows furrowed. “Cheyenne was the opposite. Vegan into New Age lifestyles. Never met a harmonic convergence she didn’t want to converge on.”

Hm. Luke thought to himself. She sounds a bit like Penelope. “I get it,” he said. “With George, he was a recluse, but how did nobody notice Cheyenne missing for three days?”

“Her friends said she was flighty,” Rossi explained. “It was not unusual for her to take off without notice for a week or two.”

“This unsub did his homework,” Morgan stated. “He knew that both victims could go missing without any alarms going off.”

“Transfusions and sustained IV feeding take skill, planning, and access to materials,” Hotch remarked. “And, crude as it was, the replacing of the old blood with new is dialysis. What if the triangle isn’t a symbol but a tissue sample? Could this be medical experimentation?”

Tara agreed with him immediately. “Yeah, I mean, you’ve got a youthful, healthy host in Cheyenne, and a sick test subject in George.”

“If the new missing girl’s his next victim, the unsub could be getting ready to try again,” JJ said.

Rossi nodded. “And his experiment takes two to tango. If Andrea mirrors Cheyenne…”

Luke picked up Rossi’s train of thought. “Then who mirrors George? He’s not done yet, there’s another victim coming.”

There hadn’t been any other missing persons reports, so they decided to call Penelope and see if they could find anything that might help their medical experimentation angle.

“Sir, yes sir?” Penelope said as she answered.

“Garcia I need you to do a search of doctors and medical professionals in the region, and see what kind of red flags pop up,” Hotch instructed.

“But of course. Carmine, scarlet, cherry, crimson, maroon? What shade of red are we looking for?”

Luke was unequivocally not thinking about all the different shades of red lipstick he’d seen her wear in the time he had known her. Definitely not.

“Ethics violations, improper protocol.”

“This person may have washed out of medical school or gotten in trouble with the licensing board for unorthodox practices,” JJ added. 

“That’s a deep shade,” Penelope said. “I’ll hit you back when I have something.”

***

About an hour later, Penelope used the tip of one of her fuzzy pens to press Hotch’s speed dial buttons. 

“What’ve you got, Garcia?”

“Nothing on my crimson flag doctor search,” she told him regretfully, “but I did learn about something with a super cool name. The Mad Scientist’s Club.”

“What’s that?” Luke asked from the other side of the line.

Penelope smiled at her new friend’s voice. “They’re a student group from the Florida College of Medicine in Jacksonville. Before they disbanded, they used to get together and talk about experimental ways to cure disease.”

“Do you have the names of the people in this club?” JJ asked her. 

“Eh,” Penelope replied. “Kinda, sorta, not really. They were totally informal. Here’s the part that made me sit up straight: they used to meet at a local cemetery.”

“Let me guess,” JJ said. “The same cemetery where Andrea Gambrell disappeared.”

Penelope nodded enthusiastically, even though JJ couldn’t see her. “Yeah! The very one!” 

“Alright,” Hotch said. “Keep working on the names, and see if you can find out why the club was disbanded.”

“Okay,” Penelope replied, hanging up the call and getting straight to work.

***

Not long after that call, Tara got one from the M.E., and she put it on speaker so Luke, who was with her, could hear. “Agents Lewis and Alvez,” she said as she answered. 

“Yes, Agents,” Dr. Gaylen said. “I’ve got the full tox screen on George Henning. There were massive amounts of Levodopa in his system.”

Tara seemed thrown by this. “The Parkinson’s drug?”

“Correct,” Dr. Gaylen confirmed.

Tara and Luke exchanged a look. That was strange.

“Okay but his blood was replaced with Cheyenne’s,” Tara stated. “So does that mean the Levodopa was introduced to his system after the transfusion?”

“Yes ma’am. And we got the results from the other DNA samples and the surprises keep coming. Found traces of mesoglea and testudinata keratin.”

Luke’s brows furrowed in confusion. Not being a scientist or a doctor, he had never heard these words before. “Which are?”

“Jellyfish and turtle,” Dr. Gaylen told him. “George Henning had animal DNA in his system.”

Tara and Luke exchanged another look, this time one of pure shock. He had what?

***

The two had raced back from their coffee run to tell the team what the M.E. had told them, and Hotch called Penelope to update her. “Garcia’s tracking recent aquarium and exotic fish sales in the area,” he told them once he got off the phone with her. 

“Aquarium sales in Florida, that’s like tracking snow shovel sales in Alaska,” Rossi commented.

“But jellyfish have unique habitat and dietary needs, so hopefully that’ll narrow it down a little,” Hotch replied.

A police officer entered the room then. “A body’s just been found. Officer on the scene thinks it might be the work of our guy.”

***

JJ and Rossi were dispatched to the scene, and when they were back it was time to deliver the profile. 

As was often the case, Hotch started off. “We believe we’re looking for a male between the ages of twenty-five and thirty-five. He may have had some medical training, and he’s able to obtain large quantities of controlled pharmaceuticals.”

“This guy is working off the legal and ethical grid,” Luke said. “And he’s doing highly dangerous medical experimentation.”

Tara picked up the thread then. “We believe he’s searching for a cure for degenerative neurological diseases, but we don’t know why.”

“It could be personal,” JJ offered. “Either he or a loved one suffers from a disease and it’s a way to leapfrog conventional research in an attempt to find the cure.”

“Or it might not be personal at all,” Morgan told the officers. “This could be the unsub playing God, assuming the told of savior and rescuer of those in need.”

“Another motive is old-fashioned greed,” Rossi said. “Financial rewards for medical breakthroughs are substantial. 

“Whatever the case,” Hotch continued. “Two divergent methodologies are at work in this unsub.”

Morgan nodded. “On the one hand, he does show signs of logic and reason. The scientific method of trial and error.”

“On the other hand,” Luke said, “this person injected animal DNA into George Henning’s body revealing an irrational, almost fantastical approach to achieving these medical goals.”

“And this dichotomy might be present in his everyday life,” Hotch stated. “He might appear charming and trustworthy, which allows him to abduct his victims with little or no difficulty.”

“But the other half of his Jekyll-and-Hyde personality would clash with authority figures,” JJ remarked. “We believe that he had a conflict with a medical establishment in the past.”

“We have reason to believe that the most recent victim, Andrea Gambrell, is still alive,” Morgan informed the officers. “The younger person is needed alive to provide healthy blood.”

“But a new sick subject to receive that blood will almost certainly be sought out,” Luke added.

Rossi spoke again then. “Post-mortem violence on the most recent victim is a strong indicator that the killer is losing control.”

“This increased volatility is cause for concern,” Hotch said. “If there are two voices in his head, the violent one is taking over.”

***

Eventually, Penelope was able to find one member of the Mad Scientists club, and Tara was sent to interview her. She was able to give Tara a tentative first name, either Richard or Robert, who in turn had Penelope run a search for that, along with her search of zoo and aquarium staff in the area who might have had access to the animals the unsub was using, as per Hotch’s direction. The following morning, a doctor was killed in a nearby hospital, to which JJ and Rossi were sent out. They came back having found out that she was a neurologist and the unsub was likely getting his extra supply of drugs from her. They needed to find out if she was the doctor of George Henning or Harold McDermott, the recent victim, as well as look into any of her current patients. In all likelihood, one of them would be next. In the meantime, Penelope had Tara’s search results ready for them.

“Well,” Tara said, flipping through the pages in her file. “Garcia went through every medical student in the north Florida area with the name of Richard or Robert, and I gotta tell you guys, it’s a long list.”

“So which one is our magic man?” JJ asked.

“Well, hey,” Luke said, holding his hand out to Tara. “Many hands makes light work, pass me some.” 

As she did, Tara noticed Rossi fidgeting with his pen, a strange look on his face. “What’s up, Rossi?”

“They identified the bird DNA in George Henning as coming from a scarlet macaw.”

JJ nodded. “Mhmm. And?”

“It’s got me thinking about Turritopsis dohrnii.”

Luke looked up from the papers to the older man. “Turri… what?”

“It’s called the immortal jellyfish,” Rossi explained. “Endlessly recycles its own cells through a process called transdifferentiation, a kind of lineage reprogramming.”

“Oh my goodness,” JJ joked, drawing out each word for emphasis. “Dr. Spencer Reid, master of disguise.”

Luke and Tara laughed at that. Luke had yet to meet the famed “Boy Wonder,” as Penelope called him, but the stories he had heard from both her and Morgan were enough to assure him that JJ’s remark had been bang-on. Rossi’s little spiel was exactly something Reid would say.

“No disguise,” Rossi replied. “I called the kid last night.”

The group laughed harder at that. 

“But think about it,” Rossi continued. “Jellyfish, turtles, sea urchin, and now, scarlet macaw. What do they all have in common?”

“A long lifespan,” Tara answered.

“Exactly,” Rossi said. “Longer than a human’s.”

“So it means the unsub may not be focused on a specific disease but rather, longevity?” Luke asked.

Rossi nodded.

“Oh god,” Tara exclaimed. “Guys, I think I know why the Magic Man thought this place was so magical.” She pointed at the map they were using to pinpoint the unsub’s hunting grounds. “We are right around the corner from the legendary Fountain of Youth.”

***

“Hey, I’ve got Garcia on the phone,” Penelope could hear Tara say to someone from the other side of the line.

“What is it, Garcia?” Hotch asked her.

“Sir, you were right about the scarlet macaw,” she told him. They are very hard to find. When you can find one, they’re real pricey. However, a private zoo outside of St. Augustine reported a macaw stolen. The owner suspected it to be a former employee, but they didn’t have any proof. I checked out this former employee, Bobby Boles, Bobby being short for Robert, Robert being maybe our mad scientist?”

“Did Robert Boles ever go to medical school?” Tara asked her. 

Penelope checked. “Yeah, he totally did. He flunked out in the middle of his first year though. He’s always been sort of a misfit, it seems.”

“How so?” Tara asked.

“He was home-schooled from an early age ‘cause he didn’t fit in with other kids, lots of childhood therapy.”

“What did Boles do after he dropped out of med school?”

“Lots of part-time jobs. He currently works as an orderly…” Penelope felt her stomach sink as she saw where he worked. “At the same hospital as Dr. Braga.”

“Where is he now?” Hotch asked her.

Penelope searched for that information, but to no avail. “I can’t find a physical address, he hasn’t had one for a while. I’ll keep searching.” With that, she hung up her phone and got right back into it.

***

The rest of the team was told of Penelope’s possible breakthrough of their mystery-man-slash-unsub, after which they also discovered that an elderly woman by the name of Eileen Kebler hadn’t shown up for her appointments with Dr. Braga for the last two days. Rossi, JJ, and Tara went to check out her residence, and the rest of them stayed behind.

“Hotch, we think we have something,” Morgan called out.

The Unit Chief approached him and Luke where they were sitting at a table. “What is it?”

“It’s Garcia’s list of recent saltwater aquarium customers.”

“Is Robert Boles on the list?” Hotch asked them.

“No,” Luke admitted. “But he could be using a fake name. It’s where one of the shipments was delivered that caught our eye.” He pointed out the aforementioned location. “The parking lot of a closed medical facility.”

The three of them were instantly in an SUV on their way to the facility.

“All right, thanks, Garcia,” Luke said as he hung up the phone. To the others, he then said, “Robert Boles got a summer job at a gift shop near the Fountain of Youth Archaeological Park. He got fired for breaking in after-hours.”

“Maybe that’s where the obsession with eternal youth started,” Morgan suggested. 

When they arrived at the abandoned medical facility, they found Robert Boles holding a knife over Andrea Gambrell and arguing with another man.

“Robert Boles, drop the weapon,” Hotch ordered.

Luke and Morgan entered the room right behind him. 

“It’s over, man,” Morgan said to him. “You’re not getting out.”

“But the knife down slowly,” Luke said, slowly and clearly.

To his credit, Boles listened to them. He dropped the knife and raised his hands, putting them behind his head. The other man in the room looked horrified.

As Morgan arrested Robert Boles, the other man came up to Luke and Hotch. “My wife needs help,” he pleaded with them. Luke realized the wife in question must be Eileen Kebler, and this was her husband.

“Where is she?” Hotch asked. 

“In the next room,” he answered. “Call an ambulance, please.”

Hotch nodded. “Show me.”

They left, and Luke rushed to Andrea’s side to free her from her restraints. She was alive and breathing, but unconscious. 

As Luke undid the final restraint on Andrea and Morgan hauled their unsub from the room, Robert Boles delivered one final chilling declaration. “I can do my research from prison. No one can stand in the way of the future!”

Luke shuddered. The mentality of a man who thought himself unstoppable… with a complex like he had… was a very dangerous thing indeed. Andrea woke up then, and started to cry, so Luke, not knowing what else to do, pulled her in for a hug and rubbed her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. “It’s okay,” he whispered to her. “It’s okay.”

He really hoped it would be.

***

On the jet back, Morgan sat down beside his old friend and passed him a water bottle. “Hey, man. I feel like we’ve barely gotten the chance to catch up since you’ve joined us.”

Luke accepted the bottle graciously. “Yeah, it has, it’s all been kind of crazy.”

“So how have you been adjusting to all this?”

“Oh it’s great,” Luke replied. “I’m loving it, actually. I was unsure at first, you know? But there’s a lot more that’s similar in our jobs than I thought, so I’m feeling a lot more comfortable than I thought.”

“Well you’re doing great,” Morgan assured him. “You fit right in, I’d swear you were actually a part of the team.”

Luke’s face lit up. “Seriously? Thank you?”

Morgan smiled and patted his friend on the back. “Any time. We’ll miss you when you’re gone.”

“Yeah, I’ll miss you guys too.”

***

Once they landed, of course, Luke made a beeline for Penelope’s office. She was dressed in her pyjamas and ready for another night on her office couch, but she always had time for a conversation with one of her “fine furry friends.” Especially one that was quickly climbing the ranks in her list of favorites.

“Hey, you,” she said as she opened the door.

“Hey,” he said, stepping in and sitting down on the couch to face her. “How’re you doing?”

She shrugged. “I’m trying to stay optimistic, but it gets harder and harder, you know?”

He nodded sympathetically. “I know. Is there anything I can do to help?”

She shook her head. “Not really. Your visits help though, so thank you, seriously. I still can’t believe you can actually visit me this often. Like, you have no one to go home to other than Roxy? How on earth is a guy like you possibly still single? How are girls not falling at your feet?”

Well feel free to fall at my feet any day. “Well, army rangers and fugitive task force don’t tend to lend themselves well to dating.”

Penelope nodded, understanding. “Yeah, neither does this. Thank god I’m single right now, honestly. This kind of thing could wreak havoc on a relationship.”

“You know, I’m kind of surprised you’re single too,” Luke remarked, bumping her shoulder. “You’re pretty great, Penelope Garcia.”

She laughed. “Thank you. But I don’t know, it’s kind of hard to find the kind of person who wants the same things I do. The last person I seriously dated proposed without even ever asking me if marriage was something I wanted, which it wasn’t. He asked me to leave all this behind and move to a farm with him.”

Luke’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “I’m sorry, what? How long were you two together?”

“Four years.”

“And he asked you to move to a farm with him? What part of this,” he gestured to the high-tech room around them, “screams willing to live the rest of my life on a farm?”

“You’ve known me for a few weeks and yet somehow you know me better than he ever did. And you know what else? He is also a technical analyst, but for a different department.”

Luke threw his head back and groaned. “No! That’s even worse!” They were silent for a moment before he said, “Hey, can I ask you something random and completely unrelated?”

“Sure.”

“Your last name, ‘Garcia,’ is that from the little-known, blonde-haired, Swedish Garcias?”

“Actually, it’s from the family that took me in after my parents died.”

Luke instantly felt like the world’s biggest asshole. “Oh my god I am so sorry,” he said, absolutely mortified. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear I was just curious, I—”

Penelope laughed. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. Well, kind of. Garcia was my stepdad’s last name, he legally adopted me when my mom married him. My mom and stepdad did die, however, so that part I’m not kidding about.”

“I’m so sorry,” Luke said genuinely. “Can I ask what happened?”

“I was eighteen years old, and I had stayed out past curfew one night. They went out to look for me, I got home after they left. They were hit by a drunk driver and killed instantly. I’ve felt guilt over it ever since. I probably always will.”

Luke took her hand in both of his and squeezed. “Hey, I know you’ve probably been told this a million times, but that was not your fault.”

She met his eyes and squeezed his hand in return. “I know that, logically, but it’s hard to accept that, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that. I’m so sorry Penelope.”

They had a moment, then, of complete silence. Just the two of them staring at each other and holding on tight to the other’s hand. Nothing was happening, yet it still felt deeply intimate. 

The moment was soon broken by Hotch entering her office, and they ripped their hands apart from each other, strangely feeling like they were caught doing something they weren’t supposed to be.

“Garcia,” Hotch said. “I need you to come with me right now.”

“Now, now?” Penelope asked.

He nodded. “Yes, now.”

“Should I change? I’m in my PJs—”

Hotch cut her off and spoke to Luke. “Alvez, get some clothes for her and bring them to us. We don’t have time to waste.” 

“Sir,” Penelope implored. “I’m scared, what’s going on?”

“There’s been a major break in the case of the hitmen hunting you.”

Penelope’s eyes widened in disbelief. “There has?”

Hotch nodded. “And we may have found a way to bring the whole network down.”

[pdriesta]

CHAPTER NINE

"baby, i'm talkin' crazy, i need you right in my space"

pairing — trentxblack!r&b artist

tropes — fake dating, enemies-to-lovers

warnings — sexual tension, toxic relationships, mature themes (minors dni)

word count — 7.3k

summary — y/n, a rising r&b star, is stuck in toxic situationships, with tabloids constantly overshadowing her music. to fix her image, her team pushes her into a fake relationship with liverpool’s trent alexander-arnold. both reluctant, they soon realize keeping things strictly business isn't so simple. will pretending to be in love stay a game, or turn into something real?

an — we are nearing the end

masterlist

y/n stood in the middle of her living room, the silence pressing in from all sides. it wasn’t the kind of silence that felt peaceful, the kind she usually craved after long hours in the studio. this was different. it was heavy, suffocating. it stretched across the walls, filled every corner of the space she had worked so hard for, settling deep into her bones like an ache she couldn’t shake.

she had always been alone, but she had never felt lonely. at least, that’s what she told herself.

but now, standing here in the dim light of her home, the weight of it was unbearable. the wedding was over, zaia and cash were gone, off in some tropical paradise wrapped in a love so effortless it almost seemed unfair. and y/n… y/n was here, stuck in the wreckage of emotions she didn’t know how to name. she had come back from the wedding venue and collapsed onto her bed, hoping sleep would take her before she could think too much. but it didn’t. and now she was awake, exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with rest.

when did it get this bad?

when did loneliness stop being a choice and start feeling like a punishment?

she tried to remember the last time she let someone in, truly let them in, without holding back, without second-guessing, without keeping them at arm’s length in the name of self-preservation. and she couldn’t. somewhere along the way, she had convinced herself that needing people—trusting people—was a weakness. that if she relied on anyone too much, if she let them see too much, they would use it against her. leave. prove her right.

trent’s name flashed across her screen again, the soft vibration rattling against the coffee table. she had lost count of how many times he had called, how many messages he had left since the wedding. she hadn’t answered a single one. she couldn’t. not after what he had said.

“i love you.”

her stomach twisted at the memory of his lips mouthing the declaration.

she knew what those words were supposed to mean, what they were supposed to feel like, but all they did was send her spiraling deeper into confusion. because love wasn’t just a confession, wasn’t just three words spoken in the heat of a moment. love was a choice. a commitment. a promise. and she had spent so much of her life convincing herself she didn’t need it, didn’t want it. that she was better off alone.

but was she?

because standing here now, feeling more lost than she ever had before, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

she had everything she thought she wanted. a career she built from the ground up. a home that was entirely her own. freedom, independence, success. and yet, none of it felt like enough.

because what was the point of it all if she had no one to share it with?

her throat tightened, tears stinging at the back of her eyes, but she forced them down. crying wouldn’t fix anything. it never did.

y/n, the artist. the name carried weight, dripped in gold and whispers, always lingering on tongues like a melody people couldn’t forget. her voice, her lyrics, her presence—everything about her demanded attention. she had built herself into something untouchable, a force, an artist who didn’t just follow trends but created them.

and yet, when did she stop being enough?

when did y/n star become a name that only mattered when it was attached to a man?

it felt like she had spent her entire career dodging one narrative just to fall into another. at first, it was the disbelief that she could do it on her own—the skepticism, the industry’s subtle and not-so-subtle ways of making her feel like she needed a man to validate her success. and then, when she proved them wrong, when her voice climbed the charts and her lyrics sank into people’s bones, the whispers changed. suddenly, it wasn’t about her music anymore. it was about who she was with.

every relationship, every situationship, every fleeting moment caught on camera—her worth had been measured by it all.

zaia had warned her about it from the start. “they’ll always find a way to make it about a man,” she had said, rolling her eyes at yet another headline that reduced y/n’s talent to nothing more than the men in her orbit. at first, y/n had laughed it off, convinced that as long as she stayed focused, as long as she kept her head down and let her work speak for itself, it wouldn’t matter.

but it did.

because no matter how many songs she wrote, no matter how many awards she won, no matter how much she tried to carve out her own space, the world always found a way to tie her back to someone else.

jadon. the athlete before him. the producer before that. and now, trent.

trent, whose name clung to hers in whispers and speculation, whose presence in her life was now a wound she couldn’t stop pressing on.

when did she become this? a woman who let love—or the lack of it—dictate how she felt about herself? when did she start believing that being alone meant being unwanted? when did the loneliness stop being a choice and start feeling like a cage she had unknowingly locked herself in?

trent had told her he loved her, and instead of feeling warmth, instead of feeling safe, all she had felt was fear.

because love wasn’t real. not for people like her.

she had spent her whole life running from it, guarding herself so carefully that she didn’t even know if she was capable of feeling it anymore. she could write about it, sing about it, make people believe in it. but when it came down to her own heart, her own ability to be vulnerable, to be seen—she had nothing.

she didn’t know how to be loved.

and if she couldn’t let herself be loved, then what was the point of any of it?

the thought settled deep in her chest, heavy and unbearable.

she needed to go. she needed to disappear.

for the first time in a long time, she needed to stop running forward and figure out how she even got here in the first place.

before she could change her mind, before the fear crept in again, she made the call.

the past she had spent so long avoiding was waiting for her.

and this time, she wasn’t going to run from it.

trent had never been the type to sit around and wait. patience wasn’t in his nature—not when it came to football, not when it came to life, and definitely not when it came to her.

but that’s all he had been doing for the past week. waiting. waiting for a text, a call, some kind of sign that she was ready to talk, but every time he reached out, all he was met with was silence.

it was driving him insane.

he was pacing his living room for what had to be the hundredth time, his hands tugging at his curls in frustration. he had never felt this desperate before, never felt so out of control when it came to someone. he had always been the one who had options, the one who could keep his emotions in check, but with y/n, it was different.

it had always been different.

he had told her he loved her.

and now she was gone.

the knock on his front door pulled him out of his thoughts, and when he swung it open, marcel was standing there, a knowing look already on his face.

“you look like shit,” marcel said, stepping inside without an invitation.

trent rolled his eyes, shutting the door behind him. “nice to see you too.”

marcel made himself comfortable on the couch, watching as trent resumed his pacing. “so, you gonna tell me what’s got you looking like a lovesick puppy, or do i have to guess?”

trent exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “it’s y/n.”

marcel hummed, like that was the answer he expected. “you talk to her?”

trent scoffed. “if by ‘talk’ you mean me sending texts and getting absolutely nothing back, then yeah, loads.”

marcel leaned back, arms crossed. “how long has it been?”

trent hesitated before muttering, “a week.”

marcel’s brows shot up. “a week? bro, that’s enough time. you need to go get her.”

trent shook his head. “she needed space.”

“she did need space. but how much space are you gonna give her before she convinces herself she don’t need you at all?” marcel asked, his voice steady but firm.

trent didn’t have an answer for that.

marcel sighed, sitting forward. “look, i don’t know everything about whatever’s going on between you two, but i know you. you’re not the type to let shit go. if you love her, you show her. words don’t mean anything if they’re not backed up by action.”

trent let that sink in.

he thought back to the look in y/n’s eyes at the wedding, the way she broke their eye contact like his love was too much to bear. he had seen fear there, hesitation, a war happening inside her that he hadn’t fully understood in the moment. but now, he was starting to.

she didn’t just need space.

she needed to know that even with the growing distance, he wasn’t going anywhere.

trent looked over at his brother, shaking his head in disbelief. “when did you get so wise?”

marcel smirked, leaning back. “been wise. you’re just slow.”

trent chuckled, but the weight in his chest didn’t lessen.

he needed to go get her.

trent stood at her doorstep, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, his heart pounding as he stared at the door that had once been so familiar. how many times had he stood here before? how many nights had he walked her to this very spot, lingering just a little longer because neither of them wanted to say goodbye?

but tonight was different.

tonight, he wasn’t sure if she’d ever open that door again.

he had rehearsed a thousand things in his head, things he wished he had said earlier. i’m sorry. i love you. i never should’ve let you walk away. he wanted to tell her that he had spent the past week losing his mind, that he couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t focus on anything but the way she looked at him before she turned away. he wanted to tell her that she could have all the space in the world, as long as she knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

but when he finally knocked, the silence that followed made his stomach drop.

no movement. no shuffle of footsteps inside.

nothing.

his brows furrowed, and he knocked again, harder this time. still nothing.

she wasn’t home.

a pit formed in his stomach as he stepped back, scanning the dark windows, the locked door, the unsettling quiet. something about it felt wrong. y/n wasn’t the type to disappear—not like this. even when she was upset, even when she shut people out, she was still there.

but now, she wasn’t.

trent swallowed hard, a cold wave of unease washing over him. where the fuck was she?

he turned to leave, his chest tightening with each step away from her door. maybe he had been too late. maybe she had decided he wasn’t worth it, that they weren’t worth it. maybe she had left him behind.

his phone vibrated in his pocket, pulling him from his thoughts. he yanked it out, his heart stuttering at the unknown number flashing on the screen.

for a split second, he let himself hope.

his thumb hovered over the answer button, breath caught in his throat. maybe it was her. maybe she had seen his texts, his missed calls, and decided to reach out. maybe—

he pressed the button. “hello?”

“oh, thank god.” the voice on the other end was rushed, relieved. not hers.

ayesha.

his stomach twisted. “ayesha?”

“is y/n with you?” her voice was sharp, urgent.

trent frowned. “what? no, i—” he exhaled, his grip tightening on his phone. “why?”

“it’s a yes or no question, trent. is she with you?”

he paused, a strange sort of dread settling in his chest. “no, i haven’t seen her. why?”

silence.

then, a shaky breath on the other end.

trent’s heartbeat picked up. “ayesha—”

“she’s gone.”

his breath stilled.

his grip on his phone tightened. “what do you mean gone?”

“i mean she’s gone,” ayesha repeated, her voice strained. “no one can reach her. she’s not picking up, not responding to anyone. her partners in crime are on their honeymoon, so i highly doubt she went with them. we have deadlines—huge deadlines—and she just vanished.”

trent’s hearing faded, his pulse pounding in his ears.

gone.

she was gone.

his mind raced, a thousand worst-case scenarios flashing before him. had she left the country? had she run off with someone? had she gone back to—

he clenched his jaw, trying to steady his breathing.

“where would she go?” his voice was tight, barely controlled.

ayesha was silent for a moment. “if i had to guess? germany.”

trent inhaled sharply.

jadon.

or worse—

“or somewhere in america,” ayesha added.

trent shut his eyes, his stomach twisting painfully.

he didn’t know what was worse—the idea of her running back to jadon or disappearing into some far-off place where he’d never be able to reach her.

but one thing was clear.

she was gone.

and he might have been the reason why.

the sun was blinding as y/n squinted up at the sky, a bead of sweat trailing down her temple as she crouched in the yard. the heat stuck to her skin, but she barely noticed it—too caught up in the shrieks of laughter ringing through the air, the sound of tiny feet thudding against the grass, the warmth of her siblings’ hands grabbing at her.

“she’s tired! she’s getting old!” one of them shouted, barely five years old, giggling as they climbed onto her back.

“i’m twenty-four,” y/n huffed, feigning exhaustion as she let them knock her over, collapsing into the soft grass with a dramatic sigh. “that is not old.”

“yeah, it is!” another one, her eight-year-old brother, declared. “you’re a whole grown-up. you’re ancient.”

“okay, calm down. who even taught you word?,” y/n scoffed, though she couldn’t help but laugh.

they all piled on top of her then, a mess of tiny limbs and sun-kissed skin, their laughter echoing in the yard. and as y/n lay there beneath them, feeling the press of their little bodies, the weight of them all clinging to her, she realized just how much she had needed this.

god, how had she let this much time pass?

how had she gone so long without hearing their voices, without feeling their warmth? without being here—where she was just y/n, their big sister, not the artist, not the persona, not the woman always attached to the name of a man.

she blinked hard, pushing away the sting in her eyes, and quickly wiped her face with the hem of her t-shirt as she got up. “alright, you monsters are wearing me out. i’m getting drinks.”

there were more complaints, more playful protests, but they let her go, already distracted by a new game. y/n shook her head fondly as she walked toward the house, pushing open the familiar screen door and stepping into the cool embrace of home.

y/n stared at the juice in the cups, the condensation dripping down the sides, and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. her hands curled around the counter, nails pressing into the wood. she felt her mother’s presence beside her, steady and expectant, waiting for her to speak.

but how was she supposed to put this into words?

how was she supposed to explain the years of silence, the distance, the unspoken wounds that had festered for so long she’d stopped noticing them—until now?

her mother sighed, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. “you can’t just hide behind the kids forever, y/n.”

y/n exhaled sharply. “i’m not—”

“you are,” her mother interrupted gently. “and i understand. it’s easier. but that’s not why you came here, is it?”

y/n’s fingers clenched, her jaw tightening. she turned, meeting her mother’s gaze, and for once, she let herself feel it.

all of it.

“no,” she admitted. “it’s not.”

her mother nodded, as if she had already known that.

y/n inhaled deeply, pressing a hand to her forehead. “i don’t know where to start,” she muttered.

her mother’s expression softened. “then start with the truth.”

y/n let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “the truth?” she repeated. “the truth is… i don’t even know when i stopped feeling at home here. when i stopped belonging here.”

her mother’s face remained unreadable, but she didn’t speak. she just waited.

y/n swallowed. “i love the kids. i love this house. i love you and dad,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “but i feel like i’ve spent my whole life trying to earn a place in this family.”

her mother’s brows furrowed slightly. “earn a place?”

y/n let out a breath, glancing toward the doorway where the sounds of her siblings’ laughter still carried through. she turned back, her throat thick.

“i was always just there,” she said, voice cracking slightly. “the firstborn. the one who had to be responsible, who had to set an example. the one who never got to mess up because there were always eyes on me. i had to be good at school, had to be successful, had to be perfect because there wasn’t room for anything else.”

her mother sighed, rubbing her forehead. “y/n—”

“you never saw me,” y/n whispered, shaking her head. “not really. you saw the version of me you wanted to see. the daughter who had everything together. the one who didn’t need anything from you.” she paused, then looked up, eyes burning. “but i did. i do.”

her mother’s lips parted slightly, something flickering in her eyes.

y/n scoffed, wiping her face roughly. “i spent years convincing myself i was fine. that i could be strong on my own. and now i don’t even know how to let people in.” she exhaled shakily, voice raw. “i thought what i was missing was… a man. a relationship. i thought maybe if someone chose me, i’d finally feel whole.”

her mother’s face softened in understanding.

y/n’s throat bobbed. “but that’s not it,” she murmured. “it’s you. it’s this. this absence i’ve felt my whole life… it’s not from a boyfriend. it’s from my family.”

a silence settled between them.

her mother inhaled deeply, pushing off the counter. she reached out, her hands finding y/n’s face, thumbs brushing gently against her cheeks like she used to do when she was little.

“oh, my baby,” she murmured, voice thick with emotion. “do you really think i don’t love you?”

y/n swallowed hard.

“you’re my first child,” her mother continued, her gaze searching y/n’s face. “the first one god blessed me with. and i know it hasn’t been easy, being the eldest. i know you’ve carried things alone, but never because i wanted you to.” she sighed. “you were always so strong, y/n. even when you were a little girl. and i—” her voice wavered. “i think i let myself believe you didn’t need me as much as the others did. that you were fine.”

y/n’s eyes stung.

her mother let out a shaky breath. “but i see you, baby,” she said, voice gentle. “i always have.”

y/n pressed her lips together, her chest aching.

her mother smoothed her hands down y/n’s arms. “tell me about him,” she said softly. “tell me about trent.”

y/n exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “i did him wrong,” she admitted. “i hurt him.”

her mother sighed, shaking her head. “you’re human. you make mistakes. but that doesn’t make you unworthy of love, y/n.”

y/n clenched her jaw. “sometimes, i don’t think i can love anyone,” she whispered. “or let myself be loved.”

her mother reached out again, tilting y/n’s chin up so she had no choice but to meet her eyes.

“if you understood even a sliver of how you are in our eyes,” she said softly, “and the eyes of that boy, you’d know you are the most deserving of love.”

y/n blinked rapidly, a tear slipping down her cheek.

her mother pulled her into her arms then, holding her tightly, as if trying to make up for all the years she hadn’t.

and for the first time in what felt like forever, y/n let herself exhale.

trent stared at his phone, the screen’s glow casting a pale light in the dim room. his thumb hovered over cassius’ contact, hesitation knotting his stomach. reaching out felt like admitting defeat, but he was out of options. with a resigned sigh, he tapped the name and began typing.

trent: i need to talk to you.

he hit send and watched as the message status changed to ‘read’ almost instantly. a beat passed before the familiar typing indicator appeared.

cassius: you know i shouldn’t be talking to you. my wife will have my head.

trent couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle, imagining zaia’s disapproving glare. he rubbed the back of his neck, searching for the right words.

trent: i wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.

the silence that followed was palpable, each second stretching longer than the last. trent’s mind raced, conjuring worst-case scenarios. finally, his phone buzzed again.

cassius: i just got back from marrying the love of my life just to find out our best friend is MIA?

trent’s grip tightened around the device. the weight of cash’s words pressed down on him, amplifying his own guilt and worry.

trent: where is she?

the typing indicator blinked on and off, mirroring trent’s anxious heartbeat. he paced the room, the floorboards creaking underfoot, until the reply came through.

cassius: she’s safe.

relief washed over him, but it was fleeting. ‘safe’ was a comfort, but it wasn’t enough.

trent: is she with him?

he didn’t need to specify; they both knew who he meant. the response was immediate.

cassius: no.

trent exhaled, a tension he hadn’t fully acknowledged releasing from his shoulders. but the uncertainty still gnawed at him.

trent: tell me where she is.

cassius: can’t do that.

frustration flared, and trent ran a hand through his hair, mussing the already disheveled strands.

trent: cash.

the reply was firm, yet laced with understanding.

cassius: she needs to heal, trent. at her own pace. if you can respect that, if you can give her the space she needs, then i can believe you’re someone worthy of her heart.

trent sank onto the edge of his bed, the weight of cash’s words settling over him. he stared at the screen, the message blurring as emotions welled up. he wanted to be that person for her, but the path forward was shrouded in uncertainty. all he could do now was wait—and hope.

worthy of her heart.

he didn’t know if he was. but he wanted to be.

and that meant waiting.

trent came home exhausted. the season had been relentless, a long stretch of matches that left his body aching and his mind drained. the moment he stepped into his house, he kicked off his shoes, shaking off the weight of travel. his suitcase sat abandoned by the door as he made his way to the kitchen, only stopping when his eyes caught an envelope sitting neatly on the counter.

his name was written in careful script on the front.

trent frowned, reaching for it and tearing it open. inside, an invitation. y/n’s album, "AAA" launch party. RSVP as soon as possible.

his breath caught in his throat.

it had been six months. six months since he last saw her, since her texts stopped, since his calls went unanswered. at first, he had fought against the silence, his pride making him stubborn. but no matter how many messages he sent, no matter how much he tried, she had shut him out. now, the invitation sat in his hands like a cruel joke.

he carried it with him as he moved through the house, tossing it onto the dining table while he reheated leftovers from the night before. as he sat down to eat, he found himself staring at it. six months. half a year. it hurt more than he wanted to admit.

trent was a proud man. he didn’t beg. he didn’t chase. but y/n—y/n had made him question everything he thought he knew about himself. he had spent nights thinking about her, wishing things had gone differently. and even now, with all the time that had passed, the feeling hadn’t left. if anything, it had settled deeper into his bones.

he sighed, pushing his plate away and grabbing his phone. without thinking, his fingers opened youtube, a habit ingrained after months of nights spent with her. they used to sit on the couch together, her head resting on his shoulder as she scrolled through tiktoks, laughing and shoving the phone in his face when she found something funny. he could still hear her voice teasing him, “trent, you’re so dry, just laugh!”

he still missed her. he still yearned for her.

the first video on his homepage made his heart stop.

y/n sits down with sade to talk about her new album, her journey, and her love life.

his thumb hovered over the screen before he tapped on it. the video loaded, and then there she was.

he exhaled sharply.

she looked beautiful. radiant. glowing in a way that made his stomach twist painfully. her skin was golden under the lights, and her hair was styled in a way that framed her face perfectly. she looked happy. peaceful.

“whew, you look good, babe!” sade grinned at her, shaking her head. “look at your skin, girl, you been having a hot girl summer or what?”

y/n laughed, shaking her head. “i had a babysitting summer.”

trent’s brows pulled together, watching her carefully. she looked different, but not in a bad way. there was a quiet ease in her demeanor, something lighter about her.

“babysitting? explain, because the streets have been wondering where you’ve been. it’s been what—almost a year since you’ve been outside?” sade teased.

y/n exhaled, nodding. “yeah, i know. i needed time. i went back home for a while, just to breathe, to reset. i got to just be y/n, not y/n the artist, not y/n the headline. just me. the big sister who got to see my baby sister take her first steps. help my little brothers with their homework. just… be present.”

trent sat back, exhaling slowly.

so that’s where she had gone.

he had always known there was a weight on her shoulders, one that she never fully let him see. he had noticed the way her mood shifted after facetime calls with her family. the way she frowned at photos shared on whatsapp, another milestone missed. he should have realized earlier—of course she went home. she had been longing for it all along.

the interview had been going smoothly, a mix of lighthearted banter and genuine reflection as sade guided the conversation with her usual warmth and ease. y/n was comfortable, her laughter coming freely as she recounted memories and spoke about her journey, her music, and of course, her personal life. but when sade’s eyes twinkled with familiarity, y/n already knew what was coming next.

“now, you know we can’t talk about you without talking about zaia,” sade said with a knowing smile. “she’s your girl. how is she?”

y/n’s face lit up instantly, the mere mention of zaia enough to bring a warmth to her expression that couldn’t be faked. “amazing, as always,” she replied fondly. “we were just together before this. she’s doing really well.”

sade nodded, her hands clasped together as she let out a small, dreamy sigh. “and i just have to say, the wedding was stunning. like, wow. one of the most beautiful weddings i’ve ever seen. you looked breathtaking, the whole thing was a fairytale.”

y/n smiled, her eyes softening at the memory. “it really was,” she agreed. “seeing my best friends get married… it was emotional. one of those moments that makes you stop and just feel how full life can be.”

“i love that,” sade murmured, placing a hand over her heart before leaning in. “but now—since the news is out and we all know…” she grinned expectantly, waiting for y/n to confirm.

y/n laughed, shaking her head at how quickly things traveled. “yeah, now that everyone knows… i’m gonna be an auntie.”

sade gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “stop!” she exclaimed. “oh my god, congratulations! that’s huge.”

y/n grinned, eyes shining. “but actually,” she continued, “a godmother too, which is what i’m most proud of. to see my best friends marry, start a family, and to be part of that in such a big way… it means everything to me. baby a if you watch this in the future auntie y/n’s got you for life”

trent, who had been sitting off to the side listening, found himself lost in thought as he watched her speak. there was a tenderness in her voice, a depth of love that made something tighten in his chest. he thought about everything they had been through, all the moments that led them here. watching her talk about love, about family, about the people who mattered to her—he realized all over again just how all the reasons he loved her.

he thought back to months ago, when they weren’t here yet. when things were still uncertain, when they were still finding their way to each other. and now, here she was, talking about life and love with so much certainty, so much warmth. he couldn’t help but reflect on what that meant for them—how he wanted a future like that with her, something permanent, something real.

and as she turned to glance at him mid-conversation, smiling softly as if she could read his thoughts, he knew she was it for him. she had been from the very beginning.

“you don’t really do interviews like this,” sade pointed out. “your private life is something you guard heavily. so what made you decide to be so vulnerable on this album? what’s different?”

y/n paused, rolling her lips together before exhaling. “i’ve never been in love before.”

trent’s stomach dropped.

“i know what people think,” y/n continued, voice steady. “but this past year, i was able to experience what i think love is in its freshest form. it was new, it was complex, and damn, it was hard to navigate—especially when you have trust issues.”

sade nodded, understanding flickering in her eyes. “you’ve spoken before about your battles with trust. how did this experience challenge you?”

“i don’t trust easily,” y/n admitted, gaze dropping for a moment before meeting sade’s. “it’s hard for me to let people in, to believe that someone’s love is genuine. but this past year, i learned a lot about myself. i had to face parts of me that i kept buried. i had to acknowledge the ways i was hurting myself. going back home helped me do that. it reminded me that love isn’t just romantic. love is in family, in friendships, in the little moments we take for granted.”

trent swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest.

he was proud of her. god, he was so proud of her.

but hearing her speak about love—about trust, about the things that tore them apart—only made the ache inside him worse.

because the truth was, no matter how much time had passed, no matter how much he told himself to move on—

he was still in love with her.

sade leaned forward slightly, resting her chin in her palm as she watched y/n carefully. the mood in the room shifted—not tense, but heavier. the kind of weight that came with unspoken words, the kind that made people sit up and listen.

“you’ve never been in love before,” sade repeated softly, tilting her head. “but people assumed you were. a lot of people thought you were in a relationship, and when you disappeared, the rumors only got worse. and i know you don’t care about what people say, but… i guess i have to ask.”

y/n’s smile faltered for the briefest moment, and trent noticed.

his chest tightened.

he leaned forward on the couch, phone gripped tightly in his hand as he watched her reaction.

“was there someone?” sade asked. “or was it just a phase in your life?”

y/n inhaled, exhaling through her nose before responding. her fingers toyed with the rings on her hands—a nervous habit.

“there was someone,” she admitted, carefully choosing her words. “it wasn’t a phase. it was real.”

trent’s heart stuttered.

he couldn’t look away from the screen.

“but… it was complicated,” y/n continued, eyes flickering down for a second. “we were two people trying to figure ourselves out at the same time, and sometimes, love—” she paused, rephrasing. “sometimes feelings aren’t enough. sometimes, timing works against you. sometimes, the people you love the most are the ones you hurt, even when you don’t mean to.”

trent exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

so she did love him. loved him.

or at least, she thought she did.

he should’ve felt relieved hearing her say it, even in such a roundabout way. but it only made the ache in his chest worse.

“do you regret it?” sade pressed gently.

y/n hesitated and trent held his breath.

“no,” she said finally, shaking her head. “i don’t regret any of it. i think… i needed to go through it. to understand myself better.”

sade studied her for a moment, nodding. “do you think it’s over?”

trent’s fingers curled around his phone so tightly his knuckles turned white.

y/n offered a small, knowing smile.

“some things never really end,” she said cryptically.

trent exhaled, running a hand down his face.

six months.

six months of silence. of overthinking. of replaying every moment, every conversation, wondering if he could’ve done something differently.

and now, she was in front of him again—not in person, but in the way that mattered. raw, honest, vulnerable.

he should’ve moved on.

but he hadn’t.

and deep down, watching her now, he didn’t think he ever really could.

the scene was soft and warm, with y/n surrounded by her closest friends as they gathered around to listen to the final tracks of her album. the atmosphere was light but full of meaning. as she pressed play, her heart fluttered, knowing she was sharing her most vulnerable self with the world. she could feel the weight of the journey, the struggle, the nights spent pouring her soul into this creation, and now, it was all coming together.

“wow, y/n,” cash murmured, leaning back as the final notes played out. “this is… this is raw. it’s real. you’ve outdone yourself.”

y/n sat there for a second, eyes closed, letting the music wash over her. it was more than an album—it was a release, a reclaiming of herself after so much time spent in confusion and heartache. she did it. the pain, the vulnerability, everything—it was on this album, ready to be heard. her emotions ran high, and before she could stop it, tears filled her eyes.

“i did it,” she whispered to herself, more to her inner self than to anyone around her. but cash and zaia both heard it.

zaia, who was now big as a house and seemed ready to pop any day now, wrapped her arms around y/n, pulling her into a hug. “you did it, girl,” she said, her voice full of warmth. “after everything you’ve been through, you came out on top. this is your moment.”

“i can’t believe it,” y/n said through a laugh, wiping her face with her sleeve. her heart felt full in a way it hadn’t for a long time. she was surrounded by love, by people who saw her. “i’m so proud of myself.”

“i can’t believe it,” y/n said through a laugh, wiping her face with her sleeve. her heart felt full in a way it hadn’t for a long time. she was surrounded by love, by people who saw her. “i’m so proud of myself.”

zaia nudged her playfully. “as you should be, superstar. we’ve been telling you.”

“but it’s different hearing it from yourself,” cash added, his voice warm. he watched her for a moment, something unreadable flickering across his face. “you’ve come a long way, y/n. i hope you know that.”

y/n smiled, exhaling softly. “i do.”

there was a comfortable pause, the kind that came when nothing more needed to be said. but then, as the laughter faded and the quiet settled, y/n found her mind drifting—to things unsaid, to people not in the room. she hesitated for only a second before she finally asked,

“have you spoken to trent?”

cash’s smile faltered slightly, just enough for y/n to notice. he didn’t answer right away, but the slight twitch of his lips gave him away.

zaia’s eyes narrowed. “i knew it.” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “i knew you still hung out with him.”

cash sighed but didn’t even try to deny it. instead, he pulled her into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “relax, woman.”

zaia rolled her eyes, but y/n barely noticed, her heart already pounding. “so?” she pressed, voice quieter now.

there was a quiet pause before cash looked over at her, his face unreadable. “he asks about you all the time.”

this way, it feels more natural—y/n’s question doesn’t come out of nowhere, and the moment has time to breathe.

cash didn’t answer right away, but the slight twitch of his lips gave him away.

zaia’s eyes narrowed. “i knew it.” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “i knew you still hung out with him.”

cash sighed but didn’t even try to deny it. instead, he pulled her into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “relax, woman.”

zaia rolled her eyes, but y/n barely noticed, her heart already pounding. “so?” she pressed, voice quieter now.

there was a quiet pause before cash looked over at her, his face unreadable. “he asks about you all the time.”

y/n’s heart skipped a beat, the words echoing in her mind. she bit her lip, trying to ignore the sting of longing. cash wasn’t done, though.

“yep, even when we’re hanging out, talking about life, playing padel, he mentions you.” cash paused, almost as if he was weighing something, before continuing. “you know, it’s not like he’s forgotten about you. but he won’t say much more. i think he’s just… waiting for you to reach out.”

y/n’s breath caught. “what?”

“yeah,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “when we hang out, when we talk, when we play padel—he brings you up. not in a dramatic way, just... like, you’re still on his mind.”

zaia, who had been listening quietly, tilted her head at cash. “wait—you and trent actually hang out?”

cash scoffed. “yeah? why do you think i know all this? we talk, we chill, and he always finds a way to ask about her.”

zaia turned to y/n, giving her a knowing look. “you hear that? he’s thinking about you, and you’re sitting here acting like this whole thing is done.”

y/n swallowed hard, her fingers twisting in the fabric of her hoodie. she wasn’t sure how to feel about that. she had spent so much time trying to convince herself that trent had moved on, that he was living his life like she never existed. but now… now, she wasn’t so sure.

cash shrugged. “what do you want me to say? trent’s a hard guy to talk to about these things. but you should know, he’s been dealing with it in his own way, too. he’s not over it, y/n. trust me.”

y/n looked down at her hands, her nails tracing the seam of her sleeve. she knew trent cared. she always knew. but hearing it from cash—knowing he had been talking about her, even in passing—made her heart ache in a way she wasn’t ready to face.

“maybe it’s too late,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.

“it’s never too late,” cash said, his voice a little softer now. “you can’t turn love off just because of distance. you gotta go see him. do it for yourself.”

y/n felt a knot in her throat as she thought about it. could she really go back? face him after all the silence? she didn’t have the answers.

zaia, who had been silently watching the conversation unfold, finally spoke up. “you’ve made so much progress, y/n. therapy, being with your family, and finishing this album while everything else was falling apart. you’ve shown strength that most people can’t even imagine. you deserve to be loved. and you deserve to love yourself first before you can even think about giving it to anyone else.”

y/n wiped away the last of her tears, feeling the weight of the words settle into her chest. “maybe i’m just not ready yet,” she said quietly, her heart heavy but hopeful.

zaia and cash shared a look, but neither of them pushed her. they both knew the truth: y/n was on a journey, and she had to walk it at her own pace.

but as the conversation faded and y/n stared down at the invitation to her album launch, she realized something—maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as alone as she had felt before.

the match at stamford bridge ended in a draw. it wasn’t the worst result, but it left a bitter taste in trent’s mouth. he hated games like this—ones where they fought, pushed, clawed for an edge, only to walk away with no real victory.

the frustration was still simmering beneath his skin as he wrapped up his post-match interview, answering questions with clipped nods and forced smiles. he was ready to go home, ready to shake off the night. but as he turned to leave, he saw her.

at first, he thought he was imagining it. maybe it was the exhaustion, the adrenaline still ebbing away, playing tricks on his mind. but then she moved—tucking a braid behind her ear, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, just like he remembered.

y/n.

his breath hitched. she was standing just a few feet away, her back to him, completely unaware of his presence. his feet carried him forward before he could think better of it, his heart pounding, his stomach twisting into knots.

it had been so long. too long.

trent couldn’t stand the distance between them. the pain of walking away, of not even having the chance to speak, was unbearable. he knew he couldn’t leave again without saying something—anything—that could maybe, just maybe, give him a chance to understand where they stood.

he turned, his heart pounding in his chest as he took slow, deliberate steps back towards her. y/n was still standing there, her gaze fixed on him, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. she didn’t move, didn’t even look away. it felt like a fleeting moment, one that could slip away as easily as it had appeared, but he wasn’t going to let it. he wasn’t going to let her slip through his fingers again.

her gaze softened, but it was clear she was guarded, like she wasn’t sure if she should let him in again. her eyes searched his face, trying to read him, trying to make sense of this moment. "trent," she whispered, almost like she wasn’t sure what to say either.

but before either of them could say more, a familiar voice cut through the air.

"you good?" jadon said, his voice light, as he stepped up behind her. his arm slid around her shoulders easily, and he kissed her cheek, the gesture quick and familiar. it was just another friendly moment, but to trent, it felt like everything was falling apart in slow motion.

he barely registered her reaction, but it didn’t matter. the kiss, the familiarity, the way jadon just slid in so effortlessly—it was like a punch to the gut.

trent stood there frozen, unable to move, the words caught in his throat. his chest tightened, a sharp ache spreading through him as he watched them. this wasn’t how he imagined it. it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

as quickly as it had happened, jadon shifted slightly, his arm still draped loosely around y/n’s shoulders, but with a subtle hesitation now. it was force of habit—the easy closeness between them—but the moment he noticed trent, he respectfully moved back a bit, letting his hand fall away. he glanced at y/n as he spoke, his tone light and casual, but there was an awareness in his movements now, like he could feel the shift in the air. it was his turn to focus on the man in front of them

"oh, hey trent."

jadon’s voice cut through the moment, light and easy as he stepped up behind her. his arm slid off her shoulders as he straightened up, giving trent a casual nod, like they were just running into each other at some random event.

trent barely registered it. his eyes were locked on y/n.

she turned at the sound of her name, her eyes widening when she saw him. her lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something—needed to—but trent had already looked away.

“sancho.”

his greeting was short, clipped, barely sparing her a glance. because looking at her—really looking at her—hurt too much.

the reality of the situation hit trent all at once. y/n had moved on. it didn’t matter how he felt, how deeply the ache cut through him. she was here, with someone else. and she seemed fine, even happy.

he had missed his chance.

"i... i should go," trent said, his voice quiet but final. he couldn’t stand there any longer, couldn’t keep pretending like it didn’t hurt. without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, his heart heavy with every step.

behind him, he could hear y/n calling his name again, but this time, he didn’t turn back. the ache was too much, and the distance he had once put between them had turned into something unbridgeable, something that couldn’t be undone with words or desperate glances.

as he walked away, the memory of her voice, her touch, the love he had once felt—it all seemed like a lifetime ago.

next

© PDRIESTA 2025

[damianovinciguerra]

Is that DAMIANO VINCIGUERRA? I heard the THIRTY ONE year old belongs to the THE NETWORK as an ESCORT. I’d stay away from them if I were you. I heard they were HEDONISTIC, but they can also be RESOURCEFUL, so proceed at your own risk.

S T A T S

FULL NAME: Damiano Vinciguerra NICKNAME(S): some shorten his name to Dami, but it's not super common, he doesn't really care either way OCCUPATION: Escort with the Network

GENDER: Cis Man PRONOUNS: He/Him NATIONALITY: Italian ETHNICITY: White (Italian)

BIRTH PLACE: Catania, Italy HOMETOWN: Milan, Italy + Madrid, Spain SOCIAL CLASS:  Upper class EDUCATION LEVEL: Attended some university, never finished FATHER:  Tomaso Vinciguerra MOTHER: Valeria Castillo SIBLING(S): none CHILDREN: none that he knows about ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ PET(S): N/A

B I O G R A P H Y

tw: physical child abuse

Being born to two beautiful and successful people, a beloved Italian politician and a Spanish supermodel, in most ways Damiano was fated to live a charmed existence.  He had inherited his mother’s good looks and his father’s charisma.  He wore expensive clothes.  Attended fine schools.  Went on exotic vacations.  Sure, he was spoiled, but he wasn’t a bad kid.  Everything changed a few months shy of his ninth birthday, though.  To this day, he isn’t sure what he did to inspire his father’s ire (although now he realizes men like his father need no provocation to do horrific things to those they claim to love).  Had he been listening to the TV too loudly while his friends and colleagues had been over?  Embarrassed him somehow in front of them?  

Punishments became much more common in the Vinciguerra household after that.  Sometimes Damiano could pinpoint what he had done to ‘deserve’ the kiss from his father’s knuckles or lick of his belt, and he would make sure to avoid doing those things in the future.  But eventually, times he had no clue what he had done outweighed the times he did, and it didn’t take long for Damiano to grow from scared to resentful.  It became obvious to him it didn’t matter how he behaved, his clothes would still cover and hide bruises, so why try?  There was also the fact that after any particularly bad ‘fight’ (as his father called it, although could a child trying to dodge his father’s anger be considered a fight, which implied there were two willing participants?), he’d be gifted with some new, expensive gadget, or as he got older, perhaps a car or something of the ilk.  A poor attempt on his father’s part to buy his son’s forgiveness (or silence) and maintain the image the politician had cultivated for his perfect family. 

As he entered teen-hood, Damiano took advantage of his father’s name and wealth, leaning into the image of spoiled rich kid, just to spite the man, knowing image meant everything to him.  He snuck into clubs underaged and stumbled out drunk at 4 A.M in front of tabloid photographers.  Raced fast cars and crashed them.  Threw the fists that he couldn’t find the courage to raise to his father at others.  He was sent to numerous boarding schools, but none of them stuck, regardless of how strict they were.  He was ‘sent’ (abducted from his room in the middle of the night) to camps that claimed to help ‘troubled teens’.  But all he’d ever come back with was an even worse attitude and in the case with the camp, a layer of dirt that he couldn’t seem to scrape from his skin no matter how hard he scrubbed.  

He found the entire thing ironic.  His father was the one beating the shit out of him, yet Damiano was the one being treated like a criminal in the making.  Of course, it’s because no one knew about his father, and despite how much he hated the man, he couldn’t bring himself to tell anyone.  Maybe it was the way his mothers’ eyes pleaded with him to just behave and take the punishment, or his father’s promises that no one would believe him, that it was his word over his.  Maybe it was the shame, that he let it happen.

There were brief respites, though, when his mother would whisk him away to Spain for a trip to visit her family and friends.  “It’s a puenta, mi cielito!’ she’d exclaim, trying to get him to dance with her, ‘it’s time for us to go wild!’.  And for those long weekends, they’d forget about his father, her husband, and enjoy themselves.  Damiano never wanted those trips to end, begging his mother to let them stay in Spain, never step foot back in Italy.  And he could always tell she’d think about it, but eventually, she’d look at him with tearful eyes and Damiano would know their puenta was coming to an end, and they’d be going home.  And then he’d be on his worst behavior when he got home, ruining his father’s good mood and starting the cycle all over again.  

Eventually, though, with his father getting older, and Damiano growing stronger and taller than even before, it was obvious his father was losing his tenuous control over his son.  But like all insecure men, when they start to lose their grasp they try and hold on tighter.  And after a particularly brutal night in the Vinciguerra household that left Damiano with a fractured orbital bone and detached retina that required surgery, it became obvious to all parties that change was coming.  After recuperating, Damiano moved to the States, and with the ever present threat of finally having a medical file that could prove his father’s temper and limit the already waning political sway of his with the scandal of it all, he was left alone.

He was eager to distance himself from his father’s shadow. But it wasn’t enough to drown out the ghosts of his past, and without a clear purpose, he drifted—until he met the right (or wrong) people. It started with exclusive parties, introductions to men and women with deep pockets and even deeper appetites. He had always been good at playing a role, at making people want him, and The Network saw the value in that. What began as casual indulgence soon became something more structured, more profitable. He told himself he wasn’t being used—he was the one in control. He liked the attention, the feeling of being wanted, of being needed. He liked the luxury, the way clients spoiled him, the power he held in those fleeting, intimate moments. Most of all, he liked that, for a little while, he could pretend he was chosen for something, rather than trapped by circumstance.

And yet, despite the thrill, there was always that nagging question at the back of his mind—what happens when The Network decides they own him, too?

H E A D C A N N O N S:

Damiano never really cared for fine dining, despite growing up surrounded by it—he’d take a greasy, late-night meal from a street cart over some Michelin-starred meal any day.

He tells himself he built his career as a sex worker because he loves the attention and a good fuck, but deep down, it’s the one place he feels truly in control.  

No matter how far he runs from his father’s shadow, he still flinches when someone raises their hand too quickly near him, and it pisses him off that his body still remembers.

He keeps a worn-out Polaroid of him and his mother in Spain tucked inside his wallet—his one reminder that for a few fleeting moments, life didn’t feel like a war zone.

He’s never actually been in love. He’s had flings, passionate nights, even long-term entanglements, but love? He’s not sure he even knows what that feels like, and he’s not sure he ever will.

W A N T E D C O N N E C T I O N S H E R E

[queenharumiura]

Neo, please, try your Yamamoto after he and Squaletta started kissing after few drinks and chemistry between them was unbearable. (Sorry, I am still stuck in our Yes or No thing where I think about them in romantic way XD I would be interested in his thoughts and emotions and everything. ♥️)

[Neo Game Time] || @squaletta Requested character: Yamamoto Kekek the game was for a muse I don't already write, but this is a creative way of using the game, so I accept it

Note: things may not be accurate and vague considering there is the added factor of Squaletta being added into the mix. I did my best because I didn't want to godmod too much or anything.

-

Yamamoto didn’t know about her tolerance, but he knew that his tolerance wasn’t so bad. He wouldn’t say he necessarily enjoyed drinking, but he didn’t hate it either. He wasn’t a lightweight, that’s for sure, and he rarely ever drank enough that it severely impacted his cognitive abilities. Maybe enough so it lightened him up some, but that was usually the extent of it.

Today was one of those moments, where a bunch of people had gathered around for some celebration, and he had gone out to the balcony to get some fresh air. The feeling of the night breeze against his skin was refreshing. He didn’t notice that someone was already on the balcony until she spoke up.

Naturally, he settled in next to her on the balcony, looking up at the stars. The rest of the party-goers inside were getting too chaotic and the vice-commander needed a break from it all. Just for a bit, it seemed. After seeing just how wild some of the Varia officers were being… anyone could understand her plight.

It was peaceful standing side by side enjoying the company of the other underneath the starlight, offering idle chatter with each other. They exchanged pleasantries earlier, complimenting how the other looked tonight. It was a formal occasion, so they did have to dress nice—but any swordsman or swordswoman would be remiss to attend an event and not account for the possibility of an attack. They of course wore something that looked nice but would be practical enough IF anything were to happen.

In the middle of their conversation, “huh? Where did Yamamoto go? Has anyone seen him?” Hearing his name, Yamamoto’s attention was piqued. About to turn back into the event hall, he stopped when he felt a tug on his arm. Squaletta pulled him deeper into the corner of the balcony, out of sight. No one would see them unless they walked out into the balcony and looked in the corner. As (un)luck would have it, someone did step out into the balcony and turned her head to the side. “Oh-”

With being caught off guard from being pulled, Yamamoto stumbled, and he had to push out his arm to stabilize his footing. How this looked to the onlooker who had just witnessed them? “Hahi… the fabled ‘kabedon’…” She quietly whispered to herself. Turning around, “No one on the balcony! Maybe he’s gone to the restroom? Has anyone checked there?” Don’t you worry! Haru isn’t a snitch and she won’t let the others interrupt your moment! (OuO)b

Looking down at Squaletta, who he’d accidentally caged with his larger physique. For a moment (he’d blame the alcohol), he lost himself in admiring the way the starlight shone against her skin, especially her lips. Her eyes were pretty too, and it wasn’t to say that he just found the color of them pretty. He always liked how her eyes always sparkled with confidence, with a fire full of aspiration danced, drawing in anyone who had a similar penchant for constant self-improvement. That was something he respected about her, her constant drive to be better. She-

Squaletta moved, and that’s when he quickly realized he’d been staring at her for too long. Knowing that Squaletta appreciated her space, he’d quickly took a few steps back.

“Haha, sorry ‘bout tha-”

Before he knew it, a pair of lips come onto his own, and the feeling of something tugging on the front of his suit brought him out of his stupor. Brown eyes, initially stupefied, gained a light of understanding. Yes, it was surprising, sure, but… it felt right, somehow? A bit impulsive, but where’s the harm in that, right?

Lips parted, and he let his instincts guide him as his arm wrapped around the small of Squaletta’s back to bring their lips together once more. A hand caressed her cheek gently before playing with her soft hair. He’d loved the way her hair looked, especially in the midst of battle. The way it danced in the breeze was mesmerizing.

Lips parted just briefly, for just enough time for them to catch their breath before their lips came together once more like magnets desperately trying to attract the other again. For now, the only two people who existed where the both of them. No one else mattered.

-

How willing am I to pick up character: I already have so-- lol

Other notes: Mmmmnnn due to the fact that this is a muse that I already picked up, I won't go through the thing where I explain where I got some of my inspo and such. Those secrets are staying with me fufufu. Also read as: I'm lazy. You're free to ask me on discord tho if you've any specific questions!

[dahliagoestomoscow]

so yeah, middle and high school were tough.

(tw// mentions s*xual harassment, and bullying. my story of healing)

I was never attractive growing up. I didn't care to be. It wasn't until I was 11 or 12 that my appearance became something I was aware of. My classmates found me to be smart and bookish, and that was a point of pride for me. I didn't want to be anyone other than the smart one. I always felt awkwardly more mature and self aware than my peers.

When the teacher wanted the class to sing and dance, I watched in horror as my classmates did so cheerfully. To me, it felt like a humiliation ritual. A part of me wanted to be treated as an adult. I felt like an adult inside. I never had a crush on boys or girls. I found the whole thing to be foolish.

In fifth grade, I noticed that the girls in my class started wearing some light makeup. They didn't wear a cat shirt from Walmart. They didn't wear patterned leggings from the kids section. Now, they got their clothes from the junior section. The biggest change I noticed, was that all of them had iPhones. Social media. Musical.ly. Instagram.

I wasn't allowed to have a phone, and was forbidden from social media until I turned 13. I wasn't with the times, I was a thing of the past. At first, I liked it that way. I was stuck in two places: I didn't want to be treated like a child, but also the idea of growing up into a teenager made me sick to my stomach.

My whole life, every adult would tell me to savor my childhood and innocence. The told me to not rush into adulthood, because it sucks. This was something I was hyper aware of. I felt complete disgust and disapproval of becoming a pimply teenager that hates my parents and only cares about boys and my phone. Plus, all the adults in my life enjoyed my bookishness and my nerdy style of dressing. I liked this alliance I had with adults. I was smart like one of them, but I was also a kid. I appealed to them. I didn't like "kids these days" either.

As more and more of my classmates got on social media, I realized that it created two different types of kids. Kids who were online and kids who were offline. The offline kids came off as over-sheltered babies. The homeschooled vibe. The ones online knew about memes, and inappropriate things that they joked with each other about. They knew how to dress and do their makeup. They texted each other on Instagram. The only way I could get ahold of friends was if I called their home phone.

Quickly, being the "smart kid" was nothing impressive. It was lame. I was a nerd. I was a kid, and they were the cool teenagers. I was ugly. I didn't know how to flat iron my hair like they did. I didn't have nice clothes. I wore Walmart clothes and hand me downs. I wasn't connected with the others.

This was when I couldn't help but feel... Ugly? I felt like an outsider looking in. I felt like an outcast from society. I wanted a phone. I wanted to learn how to dress. I wanted to have friends to text, and take selfies with. I had none of that.

The girls in my class started to jokingly tell the boys that I had a crush on them, and the boys would say "EW!! That's nasty!" I'm nasty?

I already felt a bit awkward, as I was taller than all the girls and even all the boys. I hit puberty before all of them. I was a towering ugly giant. A spectacle to laugh at. My existence was so pitiful to them, that I was nothing but a joke. This created a huge crisis in me.

For the next 3 years, I hated myself. I tried to fit in as best I could, but there was still something that my peers saw in me that they didn't like. My sense of humor was different. My maturity was different. I hated this. I tried to make jokes with them, I tried to dress more like them, but it didn't matter. My brand as the smart, awkward, ugly, tall girl was set in stone and I didn't think there was any way to rebrand.

When I entered middle school, things changed EVEN MORE than I thought possible. I was always warned that middle school was a tough place to be, but I never believed it. It felt like I went to prison. Reporting things to the teacher was called "snitching," and you couldn't do it for any reason. Even if you were being bullied. If you looked at a girl the wrong way, she may try to fight you. It would be a humiliating display. A girl much braver and much more confident than you are would approach you with a group, screaming at you and insulting you. It would be a gladiatorial fight. Amused onlookers would pull out their phones and record the confrontation, record the assault, and laugh and cheer as the aggressor would belittle and harm you. Then, it would get posted. They would screenshot unflattering frames of you and spread them everywhere. There was always "drama," always "rumors." My classmates would gang up on and bully substitute teachers, neurodivergent kids, and even people in their own friend groups. The whole thing was so cruel, I could never adjust to it. It was vastly different from the safety of an elementary school.

Along came my 13th birthday, and with that, my very own instagram account. I had no background in social media, and what's okay to post. My social media account was stupid and embarrassing. Probably came across very pretentious, as I hated everything about my peers. That's probably part of why they didn't like me. I think I deserved a little bit of the bullying and mistreatment. I didn't assimilate well into my new environment. My lack of social media skills also "othered" me from my peers. I thought that having a social media account would solve all my problems. I wouldn't be such a weird freak anymore. Didn't work. One boy at my school messaged me and told me "u look like a man in a wig." I cried and cried. The boys were the cruelest of all.

It wasn't until eighth grade that everything changed. Over the summer, I developed breasts- larger than everyone else's. I felt very awkward about it. I wanted to be petite like the other girls in my classes. After this happened though, my off-putting personality didn't matter anymore. Boys who made fun of me and jokingly talked to me started to treat me with kindness. They would partner with me and flirt with me. They would follow my account and message me kind things. I was objectified, too, of course. This didn't bother me in the slightest. I wasn't used to being the one people wanted to date.

After feeling ugly and worthless for so long, I didn't know what to do with the attention I was getting. It felt a lot like love to me. It also felt like having friends. I dated many boys. Boys who didn't want to know me... My life, my story, my middle name. They didn't like me the way liked them. I would message them paragraphs about my love and admiration for their boring personalities. How much I appreciated the absolute bare minimum from them. I did this all the way into my freshman year of high school.

Before I knew it, I was now "a slut." I carried this title into my freshman year. The bullying was getting worse. The girls didn't like me. The boys only liked my body and face. I closed myself off. I didn't speak to anyone other than my friends, because I felt like everyone hated me. Now, I was a slut with a resting bitch face who thought she was too good to talk to anyone. The resting bitch face was a weapon I had developed for myself to stop kids from coming up to me and talking to me as a joke. Asking me questions about myself in weird tones and laughing at my responses.

By my freshman year, my body had only developed more, and there were even more guys to objectify and use me. I didn't stop them even though I hated it because I figured it was the only thing I was good for. There was something fundamentally wrong with me that made me unlikable to everyone. My body was the only thing I had to offer.

I reached low after low as I was taken advantage of and used all the time. I hated myself more than anything. I reached a breaking point when I started getting bullied by the cruelest boy I had ever met, and my former best friend. It got so bad, that in my sophomore year I had to change schools. On top of the mistreatment, I was also suffering with debilitating OCD and Depression.

My mom was my hero. She got me into therapy. I started spending time with family. I met my best friend. I suddenly had an army of people who cared about me and made me realize that I wasn't worthless. At my new school, I met an amazing teacher who supported me. My grades went up. I was doing so well, I graduated with almost straight A's a year early. I started spending time with other friends. Leaving the house. I defend my inner 5th grader, middle schooler, and high schooler like she's my own daughter. I will never let her feel unsafe again. I'll never let her feel unloved. Many beautiful years of healing later, and I am a new person. Someone who loves my differences from others. Someone who will never let shitty people access me again. Someone who knows that I'm worth something, and that I'm not an ugly monster. If you're struggling the way I was, there IS a light at the end of the tunnel. I couldn't be more grateful for the person I have become, and the lessons I learned.

[cryptid-killjoy]

Outsiders.

It was exactly like that again. It was exactly why Koda was the oddball in the band, in Nola's coven war as a rogue, as Jet's friend, as his mothers' son in a post coven world, even in Feral. He was the oddball Delta watched just in case his loyalty might decide to sway. He had strings and she knew it.

That said, Elsa did just roll up into the world that Koda always kept quiet for which meant he trusted her. This was great trust to actually bring her here. How could he not when she'd done such a service with his mothers? Not anyone would do such a thing for him. It wasn't just a little thing. This place was everything. It paralleled like camp was to Flotsam. It was why he shied away from conversation and kept his opinions to himself or stayed out of politics when people started to talk coven or Maleficent, vampires, supernaturals, or the human rebellion. He had his own world and circles not all were privy to he had to keep safe. He was too lost in the middle, one of those fine line walkers and his family had nothing to do with Nola. Everyone was so passionate about Nola, but his home was here. At least that's what his father wanted, quite opposite of the story his mothers' side gave him. This place was fallout of the coven, witches, and war, the peaceful people stuck in the middle of the chaos. His uncle would start to remind him instantly.

The key he walked in with, it wasn't just Denahi's home as Koda called it, it was Koda's. Also, Care Bear was going to stick, ever since he was a cub.

"Your room is getting dusty. I change the sheets every few months just to make it feel fresh. I'm glad you're finally going to sleep in them again so it wasn't useless. Your father would hate to see all that space go to waste. Tell me you're staying for awhile this time? Aye? With your mothers, rest their souls, gone, there's really nothing stopping you from coming home now, right?"

"Gee, don't hold back or anything. We'll see. I'm not sure how long. I'm feeling things out. It does feel good to be home. I'm not sure how long Elsa can be gone from her schedule. I have a job now too. I'll have to go back for it." Koda was glad to have Elsa as an excuse if he really needed an out, Delta too for that matter. He wasn't in the mood to talk about it though.

"All right. All right. Plenty of jobs here I could get you in on if you wanted. Just putting it out there. Keep it in mind. Something to think about." He put his hands up in peace to let Koda know he wouldn't keep pushing. "Just excited to see you home. That's all."

"I know. I know. I love you too."

Then there he was being introduced to Elsa Christensen. Even the name was pristeen. "I've heard a little about you. Sorry to say it was more from a Mr. Flotsam Laveau than my nephew over there, but I am dying to get to know you better." Then his hand slipped into hers and his eyes met hers.

Oh, what's this?

He felt the cold. He was embellishing as a charming jokester, but had no idea of her gifts. The cold was surprising when he could also sense the contrast of her aliveness, blood pumping, heart beating in his ears. He'd never met a being quite like her. He brushed his thumb across her skin on her hand out of sheer curiosity at the end of the shake not quite letting go, hesitating before releasing the grasp.

Koda couldn't help but notice. For a moment he worried he was vamping out, but he pulled away. His uncle had decent control so it would have surprised him, but the truth is a vamp, is a vamp, is a vamp. It can happen.

Then he started grinning with a silent laugh.

"I don't know what you are, but you sure are something. A rarity just stepped into our house. Thank you. Thank you. The pleasure is all mine. But, neither the eel king nor Koda told me they were bringing my kindred spirit of the brass monkey with them. It'll be nice to have someone around who doesn't find the cold intimidating. Be careful shaking hands 'round here. Ever since I was bit they been calling me that, brass monkey boy, instead of my real totem. I don't mind so much. I can take a joke, but if you hear 'em whispering don't say I didn't warn ya."

Koda's jaw dropped nearly forgetting about the town's little joke on his uncle with the cold skin. The turn of phrase 'weather so cold it could freeze the balls off a brass monkey' was hardly the name someone would want to leave a legacy.

Koda's eyes popped, "Do they really still call you that? After all this time?"

"Do I still call you Care Bear?"

"Good point. Okay. Okay. Well, Elsa and I have been driving a long time. I think we need a moment to relax and shake the road off before we get on with handling my moms. Can you give us a bit to settle in? Then we'll call everyone to lay them to rest? Get this done? Do this right?" Koda really felt he wanted not just to get his parents event overwith to be done with it but it was stressful. He needed to do them right to feel okay and move forward.

That was the first thing he said when he led her to his bedroom, yes his own room, another sign he lived there before. There was the proof of his life once upon time, the life with his father. There wasn't a whole lot to it since he didn't actually live there. There was a wardrobe, a few night stands, the bed, big enough for two, but it was obvious the room had been abandoned though tidy. The personal effects were few. A couple random stones upon the desk, tiny figures, a dream catcher, notepads, pencil case. Denahi kept a few art books from when Koda was a child in there. There was even a framed photo of Koda, his mother, and his father together, all in one like a happy family. Different times. Times Denahi liked to remember. Koda ran his fingers over the edge before he sat down on the bed.

"I'll run out and get our suit cases and bags in a sec. I just need a minute." He bounced his rear on the mattress recalling the old feel. "There's a bathroom just around the corner in the hall. So, it's not a big deal to head out or anything even though it's not attached. It's right next door. I think I'll do the ceremony at night for Denahi's sake. It just seems right." His brain was starting to go on over drive now that they were here.

It wasn’t the smoothest ride, but Elsa had started to get more used to that. Smooth roads turned to potholes turned to running over trash. She always wore a seat-belt, but held onto it a little tighter through the rough patches of the ride, despite trusting Koda to drive. It wasn’t as if she could really take over. Vehicles larger than a Vespa were .. unfamiliar.

She was looking out the window curiously. A nearly naked - or was he naked? She couldn’t quite tell, made her look straight back out the windshield out of a sense of politeness. Moved so fast, she almost suffered whiplash.

“I’m sure,” She said, though she hardly sounded it, when it came to this Moose character.

The neighborhood itself was intimidating to her, though she was doing her best to keep an open mind. It was this … this tight-knit feeling that it had. It wasn’t a beautiful place, it wasn’t a clean place, surely. But yet people made their homes here and took care of one another - and she was an outsider. Just like she had been in New Orleans the first - and second time that she had moved there. On the outskirts. Looking in despite the door always being open.

But of course she adored the look of the house that they went up to. It was plain, undecorated. Just as she had usually kept things herself. Ornamentation was always too ostentatious, and what decorations she had put up in her own homes were things that had been given to her - often by the Laveaus. She never had the heart to hide any of their things. And the windows - false windows, she could see. Very smart, keeping things under the radar while looking normal.

“I like it,” She said, getting out of the truck, happy for the opportunity to stretch her legs. She did so, stepping out into the air and breathed it in. It wasn’t the freshest - that was up in Alaska. There had truly been nothing like it. Every breath up there was like taking in cold air after chewing three sticks of spearmint gum. Slightly painful but exhilarating. But it was better than pent up in the truck air, or recycled airplane air.

In the back, his mothers were still frozen solid. Not so much as a drop of melted ice came off of them. They were safe and contained, their bodies not rotting any further than they had been when they had first been caught.

Oh the differences between these two. Elsa had never entered a home without knocking. She still did at the Laveaus, not entering until she was positive that she had heard one of their voices saying, ‘Come in’ or ‘Goddamnit Elsa, just get your ass in here already!’ So there was that little prickle of discomfort, of anxiety, at walking just inside. But she still did, regardless, following behind Koda. She just very quietly brushed her knuckles at the door to soothe that strange itch in her. She closed the door quickly behind, having caught onto vampire living habits while making her home more comfortable for River.

A new stranger to meet - she could make out the family resemblance. Much like Koda, this man had the look of someone who was both extremely dangerous and yet could also be kind. Not cuddly like Koda - not that Elsa would ever use the last word, just another descriptor escaped her. A small laugh came from her at his calling out of Koda - all of it. Hollering, Care Bear. Even ‘his purdy lady’ had a twang of humor.

Cold hand met cold hand. No gloves, she hadn’t sported those in a couple of years now. She felt fully in control, despite the fact that she was losing more and more of it in other areas. Koda’s fire was melting those tall ice walls that she had spent years building up around her. But regardless of that, her hands were still cold, like his, and neither seemed to mind this.

“Elsa Christensen,” She introduced, not shying away from the cold touch, the undead appearance, the very dark eyes. “It’s an honor to be here. I like your home.”

[mekochansblog]

My sane

Five Hargreeves x reader

Tag: @thirteen2003fan & @instabull

Warnings: talking about death, sad Five.

Five looked at Diego and Lila trying to find their “son” Stanley. Five rolled his eyes and sighed knowing the kid he probably got kugelblitz.

He turned his head a bit and grumbled, “Can you believe it Y/N they lost the kid they adopt all because they are sentient STDs.” He then actually looked at his side and saw no one. It’s been a habit lately that he talks to himself thinking his wife was just going to be there. He decided to ignore them for a bit and saw Luther and Sloane. They wanted them to join them at the Sparrow academy.

While walking to the academy he thought about everything he went the past 20 days and more. First, he landed in the courtyard of his house, back to his 20-year-old body. Then he tried to save that apocalypse from his brother, which made him take his family back in time to save them, he landed in the ’60s and tried to save his family from that apocalypse. Took them to the right time but not the right timeline and now he has a stupid kugelblitz to handle yet again. Can’t even get a break right Y/N?

He remembers finding a Polaroid camera during your little search in the apocalypse and taking a picture with you. He remembers your smile and the giggles you will let out when he will say something about his calculations that you knew you weren’t able to understand. It made him want to cry remembering you. He zones back when they got to the academy and Fei opens the door for them.

“Lovely to meet you.” Lila introduces herself to Fei.

“Welcome.” Fei returns to gesture, “make yourselves at home.” She tells the academy people.

Allison who was already in a bad mood, “bitch this is our home.” And sat down.

Five decided to ignore them for now and listen to what Diego noticed. “Where the hell is Viktor and Klaus?”

Five chuckled, “With our luck, probably kugelblitzed by now.”

Diego looked at him weirdly. “You’re a dark little dude sometimes.”

Five listened to Diego and Ben argue like little children and sighed. Jesus, why can’t they just get to the point? “Okay, if the testosterone twins are done, I’d like to get back to a plan.”

Viktor then jogged into the room looking around. He looked like he was about to be in tears.

“Where is he?” He asked looking at the Sparrow academy and then at Allison. Five also looked at them not knowing who they were talking about but having a clue who. Five zoned them out a bit, but Ben brought him back.

“20 bucks on the little one,” Ben whispered to Five while eating cheese puffs. Five looked at him and thought about it.

“I’ll take that action.” Five leaned to Ben to whisper to him, not wanting to get in the middle of his sibling's fight.

‘You shouldn’t be betting on your own siblings Miele that’s just mean coming from you.’ He can already know what would be his wife’s words if she was here.

“This wasn’t about saving the world. This was about hurting me. Payback for - -“ Viktor started, making Five stop thinking about his wife and listening to Viktor and Allison argue.

“Go on. Say her name.” Allison went on looking intimidating and looking down at Viktor. Five got tired of it and stood up.

“That’s it Allison we get it you’re hurt you lost your daughter, but everyone lost someone, not just you, you can’t just say this shit to Viktor, you killed someone important to him.” Five exclaimed back at Allison and everyone started looking at him. Five was pissed everyone lost someone, Luther lost Pogo in a way, Diego lost his mother, Klaus lost our Ben and Dave, and Viktor lost Sissy and now Harlan. Allison turned to him.

“You haven’t lost anyone Five you were stuck in the apocalypse and you were gone for years so how the hell can you say you lost someone!” She screamed at him while holding back tears. Five gave a painful laugh and looked at his sister with so much pain.

“You think I didn’t lose someone too?! I lost my own wife! My happiness I lost her to the stupid apocalypse that I so badly wanted to save all of you guys because those were her last words to me! To save my family! I lost the one person that kept me sane all those years from an illness that we both couldn’t do anything because guess what Allison!?” Five yelled while looking at her, “There was no medicine! No cure! No hospital! I saw the love of my life die in my arms! So to answer your stupid question sister yes I did lose someone are you happy now?!” Five finished and had to take deep breaths.

The whole family looked at him lost for words, not knowing what to tell their young but older brother from the news that he told them. Five sighed and started sniffling feeling the weight of guilt for his wife drowning him. “I lost the only person that I cared about, and I couldn’t do anything to keep her alive with me. I miss her. I miss my Y/N.” Five wept softly. Diego sighed and grabbed his brother and hugged him.

Five felt rigid not having felt a hug since the last one you gave him. He slowly stop tensing and hugged his brother back and cried. Five broke down his walls and held on to Diego for support.

“I miss her Diego and I can’t do anything to bring her back.”

[yulin-pop]

⤷ ✧ Pocky game

- order 19 | scenarios | Housewardens P.2 (Vil, Idia, Malleus)

P.1 — (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim)

Gender neutral

Note: Old request that I had intended to make a part two for, I had this as a WIP for a while until I finished it today.

Vil Schoenheit

You knew it wouldn’t be easy. Vil is extremely focused on appearance. You had friends that cared a little too much about how they looked but Vil was over the top. But you couldn’t say it didn’t pay off. He always looked ethereal. But he would still look ethereal if he played with you!

“Vil, please can we play?” You asked while pressing your hands together and coming up next to him.

He sighed and glared down at you, “I can’t have anything. I have a big photo shoot tomorrow. I will not risk embarrassing myself when such a big event is about to happen.” He sternly said.

You grabbed his arm and hugged his arm. “B-But it’s just one little stick! I’ll never ask anymore dumb games of you again! I’ll even start dressing nicer and tying my tie cuter and neater!” You begged.

After a long while of going back and forth, he agreed extremely reluctantly. He crossed his legs and faced you as you unboxed the pocky.

“Uh, so the Pocky Game is you basically have to finish the stick before the other person. But it’s the same stick for both players.” You explained and handed the stick to Vil.

He stuck it in his mouth as you shakily lined your lips up with the other end. Vil scoffed as he bit forward, drawing dangerously close to you already.

Your hands reached over to him to cup his cheeks and surprisingly he didn’t even flinch. He pulled you closer and tilted his head as he felt your lean into the kiss.

It was a while before Vil finally let go. Despite you holding his face, you had zero control. You were running out of oxygen quickly and you almost started feeling light headed. You panted while Vil took a deep breath and recovered quickly.

“I already knew what you were trying to do. It was a good excuse to kiss you like that.” He said slyly.

You opened your eyes and smiled, “You’re.. You’re mean!!”

Idia Shroud

He’s insanely shy. He hasn’t exactly ever had any sort of romantic interaction. When he sees anyone kissing, hugging, or anything in a romantic way, he cringes and criticizes the idea of relationships.

But, of course he heard of this game! It’s recently been trending and it’s been a thing for a while.

“Do I wanna play..?! Doesn’t that go without saying?” He said as if you were a bother. But you could tell he was more flustered than bothered. You sucked in your breathe and put your hands together in a begging way.

“So, it’s a yes then? This game sounds really fun, if you already know then you can teach me!” You feinted obliviousness: Idia froze, he appeared to be thinking about something.

It seems your acting worked as he considered participating in playing with you. “I-I will but only just this once…”

“Alright then!”

You picked up the box of picky sticks and picked one out. You went closer to him and leaned forward to be at the same height as him. He shook in his chair as he unconsciously put the other end of the stick in his mouth.

So close! This is gross! How could I be doing something like this? Aaah… MC smells so good.

The ends of his hair flared red and spread more and more as you moved closer. You two were so close, your noses were nearly touching.

It was all too much for Idia, the stick snapped in the middle. You moved back and used your finger tip to push the rest into your mouth. You hid your smile as you laughed at Idia, who was practically melting.

You noticed a small bit still hanging out of his mouth, you’re pretty sure he hasn’t even noticed it snapped in half yet. You placed your hand to cup his cheek while the other grabbed the back of his head.

Your lips connected and you could feel the heat from his face. His hands flew up in the air in shock and he would’ve fallen back if he were standing. He pushed his back up against the chair, urging to you lean further into him and deepen the kiss.

You pushed away and wiped your lips with the back of your hand.

“No way…” Was the last words he could say before everything turned black.

Malleus Draconia

He is one of the more stoic people. He does show emotion but he’s not easily flustered. Which is a part of the reason why you’re doing this in the first place.

You want to catch him off guard! The times you’ve done it before were completely by accident but this time you surely would but I’d would be intentional! You invited him over, he seemed giddy about it. You noticed how he wore his school uniform a lot neater.

You sat him down in a small chair and table you had at ramshackle and ran off upstairs then came back with a box.

“Malleus! Can we play a quick game?” You asked while showing him the box. He scanned the features off the box then nodded.

“Well, what is this game you speak of?”

“It’s easy! It’s the Pocky Game. The rules are that you can’t pull away or purposely break the stick or else you lose.” You explained while opening up the box and handing him one.

He looked at it and stuck it in his mouth, as if he were going to eat it. You lined up your mouth against the short end of the pocky stick and you felt him chomp down on the part that was already inside his mouth.

He seemed completely entranced by the taste and chewed further on the part that was Alr racing his mouth. You stopped completely.

Man, he doesn’t even care!

You bit forward while trying to ignore the fact he was focusing on the taste over you. Bit by bit, your face came closer to his. He couldn’t ignore how close you were as his forehead touched yours.

He felt something gentle on his lips as you leaned over and put your arm around him. You moved away but just a hit to say something.

“Don’t ignore me again.” You said, almost desperately before slowly bringing your lips against his again.