#because i went from ‘oh i see what they are doing here’ to ��they are doing it too much’ after 0.01 seconds

[rockingbytheseaside]

Hey! Gosh I love your fics, you are so talented! <3 I have a request after your latest fic haha. The sentences 'It's only a matter of time before he accidentally slips and calls you his spouse in front of people.' would be the perfect plot, actually. When and how would the Harbingers calls their s/o 'their wife' in front of others first time? If you don't like it, you don't have to do it! i hope you have an awesome day!

(hehe, yes, accidentally… mmm. Enjoy!)

✦ They accidentally call you their spouse 

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Pantalone, Tartaglia

It was a complete and utter accident; just a harmless slip of the tongue. One moment, your beloved was politely introducing you to some of his Fatui subordinates, the other he inadvertently referred to you as “my spouse” in front of others. It would've been a sweet moment of shared laughter, were it not spoken in front of so many people of the Fatui. It’s not like your beloved’s subordinates would start correcting him, he's a Harbinger after all… now how would you navigate this awkward situation? 

✧ The ever-cold and calculating Pierro prevents any mistakes from slipping past him. Yet here he is, standing composed next to you as he gently gestures to you and claims:

“From here on out, my spouse shall reside in the Zapolyarny Palace and I expect all obedience to be directed towards them.” 

You went silent. The servants went silent. Even he went silent. You carefully murmured to him:

“... Pierro, dear. We are not married.” 

Somehow the Jester remained blank, as if the error of his brain eluded him. Or perhaps, he realized it was too late to reprimand his mistake, especially in front of the royal servants of the palace. He simply cleared his throat and nodded woefully: “Indeed, we aren't. My apologies.” 

The hushed murmurs of The Director’s “innocent mistake” spread soundlessly like an inside secret within the Palace's walls. It wasn't news that the Jester adored you, but to witness the typically collected Pierro clear his throat bashfully, while you stood there timidly after correcting his mistake was endearing. 

These rumors, of course, reached the ears of the 3rd of the Fatui Harbingers’ ears, Columbina. Such tales were her delight, a personal pastime, relishing the timid nature of your private relationship with Pierro. She just had to tease you two by reminding him of the incident. Thus, one day, she approached The Jester in his office on an inconspicuous day and asked:

“Oh, cheer up, Director. It's been months since your last mishap. Surely you wouldn't let your composure shatter in front of the one you call beloved so easily?”

“You are correct,” - Pierro replied to the Dove calmly. “It was a mistake. Hence, I amended it and made sure it's no longer an issue.”

That’s when Columbina’s gaze drifted to his hands, where he was not leisurely adjusting his cuffs but subtly displaying an ornament on his ring finger. His engagement ring. If the 3rd Harbinger could open her enigmatic eyes, she would stare absolutely wide-eyed and dumbfounded through her white ribbons. When the hell did he get engaged-?!

“Pierro, dear,” - you suddenly stepped in, that same embarrassed interjection escaping you “Please stop boasting about our engagement. We haven't made it official yet.” 

✧ The poor Fatui soldier under Il Capitano's recruit stood stiffly looking at their Harbinger. Was it dread or the web of discomfort one feels when seeing a couple argue over something entirely beyond their input? Because that's certainly what the current Fatui skirmisher felt when standing between you and Il Capitano. 

“I can't allow this, Capitano,” – you huffed, your head shaking in dismay. “You over-dedicate yourself in battles.” 

“We went over this, my cherished. I have to, it is my duty as the Captain. Not just for the Fatui’s sake, but for your own safety as well!” 

“No, no,” – you clicked your tongue. “Don’t give me that. You know that's not the issue��� the issue is that you overwork yourself by beating everyone in a duel and not leaving me anything else to defeat! What am I supposed to do?!”

“But my beloved-!” 

That's how your lover's quarrel underwent, and the Fatui Skirmishers that kept blinking in disbelief, stood helpless as the argument ping-ponged between ‘who gets to defeat more enemies on the battlefield’. Finally, your beloved spoke with an irritated huff at your scolding:

“Well, did you perhaps consider that I do not wish for my spouse to overextend themselves and get recklessly injured over some personal records?”

“Oh, so now you-... What did you just call me?” 

The sudden realization caused a deafening silence between you and Capitano like a blade poised to strike. His pitch-black visage did not help to decipher whether he was grappling with his mistake or masking his shock. You insisted: “Capitano, what did you just call-”

“I did not say anything.” 

“You did, you…Hey-! Don't turn your back on me, come back here!” 

Perhaps The 1st of the Fatui Harbingers does not flee from a challenge like a pathetic coward. However, today was a great chance to use a tactful retreat, to put it softly, all in the hopes of escaping your wrath. How else would he explain his mishaps of calling you his ‘spouse’ so casually? If he confessed that he thought “it sounds so befitting for my one and only” he might as well just reveal every tender plan of a quiet life with you. And he can't have you teasing his affection for a domestic life alongside you. 

For now, fleeing was a wise and honorable choice, especially when you are ready to duel him any moment now.

✧ It was another one of those days in Il Dottore's lab. His fingers tap the surface of the table, chin resting on his palm, while a pen balanced precariously behind his ear. Delegating his final tasks for today, he supervised some final organizational matters in the lab while addressing some lab assistants with his usual air of nonchalant authority.

“Ensure all the surgical sets are properly sanitized and checked in the ultrasonic cleaner. I expect them neatly arranged by day’s end. My spouse prefers the equipment organized this way.”

One of the lab assistants stopped in their tracks, staring at him. 

“And don't inform them how some glassware shattered today. It would be irrelevant for them to worry…”

Mumbling to himself, Dottore only now realized that his lab assistants fell eerily silent, staying motionless as they blinked at him. Humming in confusion, he turned his attention at last, only to realize these unfortunate listeners were not gawing at him, but rather someone behind him.

Lo and behold, you stood there, behind him.

With a hand on your hip, you inquired with deceptive simplicity: “Oh? You have a spouse, dear?”

He pretends he wasn't aware of the conundrum and the absurdity of his slip-up. But even with his eyes covered behind that smooth black mask covering his eyes, you can see the haughty expression on his lips. Thus, he crossed his arms.

“Hm, Perhaps. You could say I do.”

“Then my condolences to your spouse. They must have the patience of a saint.”

The Doctor’s assistant had to repress their little chuckles. The tense atmosphere of the laboratory would always be dismissed with your ease, as you’d knowingly nod to Dottore’s colleagues and allow them to leave you two alone. Not even Dottore’s stern attitude would interfere otherwise, even if he tried to conceal his flustered composure at your mere words: “Well perhaps they are a saint, but also a handful for me to deal with.”

“Well, your hypothetical spouse is telling you it's late already and you should take a break for today.”

Conceding to your playful banter, The harbinger’s shoulders loosened up, a rare smile gracing him as he followed you with a wrapped arm around your shoulder. Your victory is marked by your knowing smile and Dottore would not object or conceal his infatuation by referring to you as his spouse. Even if he denies the marital titles as nothing but superficial formalities, he’d walk with you back to your shared personal quarters mumbling:

“Spouse’s orders it is, then.”

✧ It happened during a busy moment when Pantalone and you were at a tailor shop. After much persuasion that lasted weeks, your beloved succeeded at finally dragging you to a luxurious tailoring workshop, where store attendants welcomed you both and helped take your measurements with utter refinement and class.

You stood still with your arms extended, while the attendants did their swift duty with a measuring tape. In the mirror’s reflection before you, you caught sight of Pantalone standing a few steps away, his hand resting thoughtfully against his chin.

“Perhaps an elegant new blazer, white with golden accents?”

You remained still, looking absent-mindedly at the array of fabrics on display. “Dear, there is no need for every piece of clothing to look like it was made for a soirée. I am perfectly fine with a casual cotton blazer.”

The shop attendant closest to you stepped close with some swatches of fabrics to choose from, offering a polite smile. However, Pantalone had to shake his head and charmingly declare – “Oh, nonsense, my spouse deserves only the highest quality and looks when it comes to tailor-made pieces. Excuse me, may I inspect the catalogs for fabrics?”

With a polite nod, the shop assistant did not question the Harbinger or your baffled expression at the sudden choice of words. She was already moving around: “Most certainly, sir. I am sure you and your partner would love our available options. In fact, we also offer discounts for matching tailored ensembles for betrothed pairs if it's for a wedding or a honeymoon special.”

"Wait, wait… we are not-”

“Ah, wonderful,” Pantalone kept the same polite persona without missing a beat. However, the slight knowing smile did not go unnoticed as he glanced at you. “That will be excellent to keep in mind for the future."

What was promised as a quick visit to the tailor shop turned into Pantalone victoriously dragging you through multiple high-end workshops and analyzing the myriads of ‘honeymoon and wedding’ offers when it came to tailor-made clothes. And you, of course, could only gape at him while he kept that ever-charming grin.

“Pantalone, honey, we are not looking into engagement accessories. We are not married.”

“Oh? We are not?” - He feigned innocence and tilted his head. “Hehe, oops.”

✧ When Tartaglia made his way back with his men to Snezhnaya, the fuzzy white snow provided a stark white contrast to the shedding blood on the ground. Clear ruby red droplets stained the cool white terrain after the Harbinger’s successful expedition. 

“Lord Harbinger Tartaglia,” – a Pyro Agent approached, bowing in recognition. “Our reports are in. The site is clear; all abyssal monstrosities have been eliminated.”

Yet Childe was far from tranquil. The rush of battle was still hot in his blood, his hydro dual blades clutched tightly in his hands. Another mission dispelling any filth at the outskirts of Snezhnaya may be mundane for some Fatui skirmishers, yet for a man like Childe, this was his warm-up. 

“Ha… not bad. We finished much earlier today. And here I suspected this would take a whole day.” 

The Pyro Agent nodded – “Yes, sir, indeed. Judging by estimation, our troop would be back to the city by nightfall.”

“...Hold on, nightfall?” 

Suddenly, Tartaglia froze as if a deep culmination dawned on him. The confirmation from his subordinates did not quell his sudden shock. In mere seconds, all his battle rush and thrill of danger vanished before Tartaglia whipped around and exclaimed loudly to his men: 

“Teucer’s theater performance at school is today! My spouse is gonna kill me!” 

Without further words or thought, the Harbinger literally turned and sprinted as far as the horizon could see, leaving his subordinates baffled. Teucer? Spouse? This young Harbinger was married? 

“What… is he on about? I didn't know our lord Harbinger was married,” - the Pyro Agent mumbled, looking into the distance where the figure of a sprinting young man vanished off comically. An Anemoboxer Vanguard stepped nearby, adjusting his gauntlets. “I am pretty sure he isn't. It could be a family member.”

“Then who is the spouse…?” 

The Fatui colleagues exchanged shrugs before the other remembered – “Ah, could be his partner. Remember, they sometimes come to visit when he's training?”

“Oh, then definitely them.” – the two men stared off in the direction Tartaglia had gone, the bizarre image of their superior, so consumed by his bloodlust moments ago, suddenly halting everything to rush home for some kid’s theater performance. And accidentally calling his sweetheart his spouse would be hard to forget.

“Wanna bet he won't make it in time and his ‘spouse’ would teach him a lesson?” 

[nanenna]

Jeez Louise This is a Mess

Sleepy King (Nenna edition) Master Post

Apologies in advance, I'm not very familiar with John Constantine, trying to do anything from his perspective is definitely an unwise decision. I have chosen it anyway. He's almost definitely OOC.

---

John watched the Fentons and the mayor just saunter through the brand new hole in the mayor’s wall like this was just a normal Friday for them. Considering how weird the town was as a whole, it probably was. And he meant that by the old meaning of the word and as literal as one could possibly interpret it. He’d never been anywhere where the veil was so thin over such a large area, with æther so thick in the air of course it was affecting the locals. Probably had something to do with whoever or whatever had cloaked the whole town.

John turned to Tall Dark and Broody, “So, what happened to all the bugs and trackers you put on them originally?”

Batsy frowned, “Danny’s are still in the Fenton residence, expected since he clearly changed his clothes. His parents’ trackers and bugs all went offline not long after arriving home, the ones I placed inside the residence are malfunctioning.”

“And that’s not the least bit suspicious?” John asked.

“It’s incredibly suspicious,” Batsy said with a completely straight face before turning and also walking right out the brand new hole. “I suggest you actually use the comm I gave you earlier, they’re explaining the situation to Masters.”

Unfortunately Mr. Gargles Gravel for Breakfast had a point, John sighed and did put in the comm, though he knew it would be spotty with the use of magic to follow the group. Batsy and Wonder Woman could follow however they liked, John did not have the energy for that.

The comms were staticky, cutting in and out even without John’s abuse of the thin veil to quick step around town. Not surprising, the amount of pure death magic radiating off the two dead-alive people in that tank would be enough to mess with most electronics even if the veil weren’t practically non-existent.

“Somehow this place feels cozy,” Boston commented as he followed John.

“You would think so.”

The conversation on the comm was getting worse, the bugs were clearly slowly giving up the ghost. John only caught a few words here and there, and those were only because they were Ghost Speak, something that shouldn’t be possible for flesh and blood mouths to speak. It’s just bits and pieces, names and titles mostly, but if he’s understanding this right…

“Huh, that may change the situation a bit.”

“What are you going on about?” Boston asked.

“It sounds like Pariah isn’t the Ghost King anymore. But Batsy’s bugs are losing the war against æther, so when we get there you’re gonna need to go spy on them.”

“Will that work?”

“Try to keep out of sight, but even if you get caught the worst they’ll do is kick you out. Undead solidarity.”

Boston grumbled, but when John met back up with Batsy and Wonder Woman staring through a window right to where the group was talking, Boston did as he was asked and slipped right through the wall and inside. John cast a quick spell to spy through Boston.

Boston floated slowly into the room, seemingly becoming braver as the Fentons looked right past him without reacting. Unfortunately, he got a little too close to the one person in the room that could definitely see him. The kid jumped out of his seat in surprise.

“Don't sneak up on me like that!” The kid whined as he picked himself up off the floor. Then he froze, eyes glaring at Boston. “How did you sneak up on me? You didn't activate my ghost sense at all.”

“Oh, you can see me? And ghost sense?”

“You don't know who I am?”

“Uh… Daniel Fenton?”

“Well yes, but ghosts don't usually call me that.”

“Then what do they call you?”

“How about you tell me your name first?”

“I’m Deadman.”

The kid burst into laughter. “Are you for real?”

“Danny, is it Youngblood?” The sister asked.

“Huh?” The kid looked to his older sister, then back to Boston. He gestured, “You can't see him?”

The Fentons all shook their heads.

The creepy mayor came back into the room holding a cardboard box, knocking a thin layer of dust from the top. “Here it is!” He looked up and frowned. “Who are you, and why are you in my home?”

“I’m Deadman and I’m uh… lost?”

“He didn't set off my ghost sense,” the kid added. He turned back to Boston, “Are you even a ghost?”

Batman, who’d spent the last few minutes getting into the perfect position while he waited for the most dramatic moment chose then to crash through the window. John started cursing as he rushed to climb in after the loon, already prepping a spell. The moment he had a clear line of sight he shot off the revelation spell at the kid.

It did… well not much.

Really about all it did was give the kid a couple extra accessories. He expected them, but he also expected it to somehow reveal the kid’s undead status too. Make him look all glowy and ghostly like he had when he’d first arrived last night, because John was pretty sure the kid hadn’t been kidnapped after all. Or at least not how they originally assumed, he was pretty sure some spirits considered an unwilling summons a kidnapping.

Still, there the crown was. Just floating over the kid’s head, toxic green æther flames around it like a death energy aurora. And like any teenager the kid seemed completely oblivious, having to be told the crown was even there. Once he got a hand on it though he said something odd, “Okay, crown retrieved.”

John just tucked his hands in his pockets, waiting to see what they were doing. Why did they think they needed to find the crown?

“We may have a problem,” The creepy mayor said as he pulled an identical crown from his cardboard box.

“What.” The kid looked back and forth between the crown in his hand and the one in the creeper’s. “Why are there two?”

And, well, John agreed. Why the fuck were there two? He already started muttering an identification spell as the kid turned to him.

“What did you do?!”

“I didn't do anything,” John protested, “that was purely an identification spell, it can't duplicate things!”

“Well clearly you did something wrong,” The kid’s mom said while glaring at the him.

Of course things got dicey after that, the kid and the creepy mayor got into a fight over the second crown, things turned into a right mess, and John was quite content to let them squabble among themselves. He moved to go stand next to Batsy and Wonder Woman, Boston with him, waiting to see how this went.

Of course the tussle then turned into fighting over the ring on the kid’s finger, still blaming John for just revealing the crown and ring the kid had apparently had this whole time.

“Alright, that’s enough. Shut up!” John may have put a bit of intent into that, and it worked beautifully. The whole group stopped and stared at him, finally shutting up. The parents managed to get between the kid and the creeper, each one still with one of the crowns.

The crowns he now knew were both, somehow, legitimate.

John pointed at the kid, “Just call the crown, it’ll listen.”

The kid gave him a disbelieving look. “Oh sure, I’ll just,” he hunched forward a little bit, clapped his hands, and whistled like he was calling a dog, “here Crowny, Crowny, Crowny.”

For a brief moment nothing happened, then the creeper mayor jerked forward as the crown yanked itself from his hand. It went to go join the other crown floating over the kid’s head, one of them grew wider so the other could nestle inside it, both spinning in place but in opposite directions.

Everyone was staring at the display.

“What uh… what are they doing?” The kid asked nervously.

“They… like each other?” The sister asked skeptically.

“Great, wonderful, fabulous, just what I need in my life.” The kid sighed and turned to glare at John. “What. Did. You. DO?!”

“I didn’t do shit,” John replied, much to the parents’ combined horror. “Looks like somehow they’re both legit, my best guess is one of them isn’t from this timeline.”

“Oh,” the sister said, grabbing everyone’s attention. “The Nasty Burger explosion happened after the fight with the king, right?”

“The what?” the kid’s parents asked.

“Oh,” the kid responded, “I’m starting to see why the council of eyeballs hates my guts.”

And wasn’t that a concerning sentence. John desperately needed a drink, thankfully he had a flask on him and chose that moment to take a swig. “Alright, so there should be a second ring too, no point leaving that on Dark’s finger in case he gets out again.”

“Vlad did it,” the kid said while pointing at the creeper.

“Excuse me!” Creeper actually put a hand to his neck, like some fainting Victorian lady.

“Vlad tried to steal the ring and crown, so he let Dark out of the sarcophagus and I had to go clean up his mess, like always.” The kid glared at the creeper, it was starting to paint a really concerning picture.

“I’m sure Vladdie was just trying to keep these powerful artifacts safe,” the kid’s dad said loudly and happily. Yeah, there was the concerning picture again.

“I’d believe it if all he took was the ring, but the crown was safely sealed away with Pariah and he let the guy out to steal it.”

“Just call the ring,” John said gruffly.

“Here Ragey, Ragey, Ragey.” The kid whistled and clapped his hands again. The ring showing up on the kid’s other hand was expected, the glowing green hell hound that came sprinting through the wall and practically tackled the kid wasn’t. “Cujo! Hi! Who’s a good puppy?!”

Keeriest, John needed a stiffer drink.

[arc-misadventures]

Fashion in Rust

Coco: Okay, Glynda... Ruby ask us for us to pass our judgement on how fashionable the, Rusted Knight is.

Glynda: I'm not sure what's more outrageous; The fact that, The Rusted Knight is real, or that we have to do a fashion test on him.

Coco: I don't get it either, but Ruby has adamant on us doing this.

Glynda: I don't know why she was so insistent on us doing that. She must know something we don't.

Coco: Must be... Only question know is what does she know that we don't...?

~~~

Coco: Okay! Where is the, Rusted Knight!

Glynda: We, Beacon's Fashion Trio, minus one member who is missing, are here to render judgement on the, Rusted Knights taste in fashion!

Coco: So, prepare to face our judgment Rusted... Knight...?

GC: ...

Coco: Damn...

Glynda: Oh... I uhhh... I did not expect him to be so... Ravishing~!

Coco: I read the, Ever After as a child... but, gods damn! I knew the, Rusted Knight was considered handsome. But, I didn't expect him to be so hot!

Glynda: Okay, lets do this... We can do this...

Coco: Can we?!

Glynda: Yes we can do...?!

: Oh? Why hello there...

Coco: FUUUUUCK! He sounds hot too?!

Glynda: This is so not fair!

: It's very nice to see you again, Glynda.

Glynda: Y-You know who I am?

: And, you know me.

Glynda: I do?

: And, hello to you as well, Coco. It's nice to see you as well.

Coco: You know who I am too? How...?

: Well... Beacon's Fashion Trio is united again. So tell me, how did I fair?

Coco: Perfect! You look fantastic!

Glynda: And, very attractive! No, wait? What do you mean by, ' again?'

: Oh yes, the helmet... Let me...

: Ahh... That's better...

Glynda: No way...

Coco: Holy fuck... Jaune?!

Jaune: Yeah, it's me, Jaune Arc... I am the, Rusted Knight.

Glynda: Oh...

Coco: Okay... Uhhh... First off it's nice to see you're alive, Jaune!

Glynda: Absoutly wonderful to know you're still with us!

Coco: But, uhh... T-The fashion trio needs to take a sidebar!

Jaune: Alright then.

~~~

Coco: Okay.. Jaune's freaking hot!

Glynda: There is no doubt about that!

Coco: I admit, I always that, Jaune was attractive, I even fantasized about us doing it a few times.

Glynda: I admit, so did as well. Why, I often imagined, Jaune taking me on my desk, or playing out naughty teacher student fantasies with him.

Coco: That's hot... But, gods damn! He went from seven to a twelve in an instant!

Glynda: That rugged beard, and the fox tail fit him so well!

Coco: And, he became such a hot silver fox on top of that! I want to fuck him so bad!

Glynda: So do I!

Coco: ...

Glynda: ...

Coco: We're going to fuck him aren't we?

Glynda: Absolutely.

Coco: Fuck yes!

~~~

Coco: Jaune we've made our judgement!

Jaune: Oh, and how did I do?

Glynda: You're so hot that we've decided to fuck you.

Jaune: ...

Jaune: B-Beg pardon...?

Coco: we're going to have sex. Now.

Jaune: N-Now...?

Glynda: Now~!

Jaune: ...

Jaune Alright then~!

///

Why you may ask?

Because it was requested.

[pitchsidestories]

never judge a book by it's cover II Beth Mead x Vivianne Miedema x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1321

a/n: dear readers, this pairing was quite a requested one, so we hope we've met your expectations. 💗💗

warning: mentions of injuries, but despite that topic a whole lot of wholesomeness and fluff. <3

“Beth, Viv tried to call us.”, you noticed concerned after you looked at your phone. A few minutes ago, Renee ended the training, and the Arsenal team felt more optimistic than it had in recent times.

“She did? Weird, she knows we had training. And she hates calls.”, Beth frowned.

“Yes, it must be important.”, you replied before playing the voice mail your other girlfriend had left. Viviannes frustrated and sad voice filled the changing room. It was in stark contrast to the current joyful and happy atmosphere.

“Hi girls. I know you’re busy. Just wanted to let you know that the team doctor checked on my knee again and it doesn’t seem to get better. I’m off to do some more scans now but he said another surgery might be inevitable. They want to operate as soon as possible. No big deal, just wanted to let you know. Enjoy your training.”

“Oh no, poor Vivi. Love, you know what that means, right?”, the blonde sighed heavily.  

“Yes, of course.”, you told her. Clearing your throat, you turned around to face one of your Australian teammates. “Uhm Steph, sorry, we can’t go on our usual coffee walk with the dogs later. Beth and I need to drive to Manchester because Viv needs us right now.”

“Sure. Everything, okay?”, Steph asked alarmed.

“No, Viv puts her brave face on, but she likely has to go through a surgery again.”, you explained with a heavy heart.

“Tell her we’re all thinking of her.”, she responded empathetically.

“Okay, we’ll.”, you promised her.

“See you soon, Steph.”, Beth waved at one of her best friends.

“Bye girls, take care.”, Steph replied.

Your girlfriend and you didn’t waste time, you quickly got everything you needed for your lover and when drove all the way up to the North in a bit over four hours.

Both your hearts pounded hard against your chests, once you rang at Vivianne’s appartement door in Manchester and waited for her to open it. You couldn’t know in which state you’d find her.

“What are you two doing here?!”, the Dutch woman exclaimed surprised while kneeing down despite the pain to hug the dog who wiggled her tail excitedly, clearly thrilled to see her again.

“Looking after you!”, you answered patiently.

“I can handle that I did it before.”, Vivianne clarified as the brunette slowly stood up again.

“Yes, but you don’t have to handle it alone.”, Beth reminded her softly, wrapping her arms around the taller forward.

“Exactly, we’ll be there for you if you like it or not.”, you added, joining their hug, turning the Dutch’s footballer’s cheeks into a soft pink.

“You didn’t have to come.”, Vivianne stated seriously.

“But we wanted to, you stubborn woman.“, Beth huffed with annoyance but her eyes softened at the sight of her girlfriend.

Vivs eyebrows knotted together: “Who are you calling stubborn? You didn’t even call back to ask how the scans went. You just packed your stuff and drove here!“

You shrugged, trying to calm the situation with an innocent smile: “We just knew that we had to be here.“

With that, you marched past her into her living room that you had helped decorate a few months ago.

Vivianne shook her head: “You’re two idiots.“

“Yeah but we’re your idiots.“, Beth smiled and gently bumped shoulders with her as they followed you.

“Yeah, you are.“, Vivianne confirmed with the hint of a laugh in her voice.

You stopped in front of the sofa and started to unpack the bags you and Beth had packed earlier.

“Plus, we got Myle, your favourite snacks and the new book from that author you love. So basically everything you need to start your recovery.“, you told her.

A bit overwhelmed, Vivianne took in the pile of sweets you created on the coffee table. It took a few seconds until she spoke again: “That’s sweet of you.“

“You’re welcome, Viv. So, what’s next for you?“, you asked, sitting down on her sofa.

“For one, it’s surgery and then rehab again.“, she sighed as she sat down next to you.

Beth calmingly laid a hand on Vivs thigh: “When is the date for the surgery?“

“In a few days so you can’t stay here for that.“

As soon as she had finished, Beth and you looked at each other with silent understanding.

You frowned: “You don’t want us to be here for the surgery?“

“You have training.“, the dutch player replied like the answer should have been obvious. And maybe it should have been. But not when Beth and you were determined to be there for your girlfriend.

“Yes but Renee would understand if we would skip one.“, Beth argued which was met with a determined shake of Vivs head. “But I don’t want you to pause your lives for me.“

You barely stopped yourself from rolling your eyes at her typical stubbornness: “It’s not on pause because you are an important part of our lives.“

She considered you for a moment, silently.

“Yes, everyone would understand.“, Beth nodded to emphasize your point.

Another short break until Vivianne finally admitted: “To be honest, girls, I’m a little scared…“

Taken aback, you bit your lip. It wasn’t often that your girlfriend was open about her emotions.

Beths hand slipped into Vivs, her gaze softening: “You don’t have to be. We’ll be here for you and support you every step of the way.“

“What if I’m not coming back from this?“

“You’ll. You’re a fighter.”, the blonde said in a tone which left no room for doubt and was full of certainty.

“And you two will be there? I know I can get.”, the Dutch woman started.

Before she could add anything, you interrupted her gently. “Of course we’ll be.”

“Promise.”, Beth continued solemnly.

“Okay, thanks.”, Viv let out a relived sigh.

“Cuddles.”, you offered.

“Okay.”, she agreed with a half-crooked smile and opened her arms for you both to cuddle into one of her sides each.

“Do you feel better?”, the English player wanted to know.

“A lot. But still you shouldn’t have come.”, the Manchester city football player mumbled.

“We’re not starting with that again.”, you groaned.

“Yes, shut up and be happy!”, Beth demanded laughing.

“Let’s read out to each other with Viv’s new book. Beth could you..?”, you suggested.

“Make some special Meado hot chocolate? Absolutely.”, your girlfriend exclaimed thrilled.

“You guys know I hate the attention.”, the Dutch forward pouted.

“We do that’s why we’ll focus on fictional characters now. Can you already smell the hot drink?”, you tried your best to distract her.

“I hope Beth doesn’t burn the milk again.”, Viv looked worried into the direction where the scent of hot chocolate came from.

“Have a little faith in me!”, Beth yelled.

“I do. Usually.”, the forward assured the other striker quickly who returned with three cups of warm beverages.

“Okay, fine. I won’t argue with you.”, Viv laughed.

“The cover is really awful though.”, you commented while flipping through the pages of the newly acquired novel.

“You’re not supposed to read the cover.”, the dark-haired woman clicked her tongue.

“And not judge it by it’s looks?”, you raised an eyebrow at your lover, you knew exactly to what she was alluding to.

From the outside you looked very tough with your tattoos and muscular built. Because of your outward appearance people were quite intimidated by you until they got to know the human behind the looks. There was a soft and gentle side to you other persons were surprised to find.

“Of all people you must know that looks can be misleading.”, Beth reminded you with a wink.

“Can we read now?”, Viv threw in impatiently.

“Sure.”, you chuckled and began to read the first lines of the new book.  While you were aware that the best love story lay right next to you, listening to every word you said.

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: loser!jeonghan, teasing, afab reader, smut, grinding, penetrative sex, etc.

part 1, part 2

wc: 1545

a/n: its so hard to find pictures of him with long hair AND glasses so u guys will have to get creative with these pictures.

masterlist

after that first time with jeonghan, you'd sadly been unable to see him again in over two weeks.

it's not that you didn't try. life simply kept you away from him for unknown reasons. maybe the higher powers knew you'd break him if you got too much of him all at once. who knows.

when you were finally able to schedule another meeting with the pretty boy, you were ecstatic. maybe you even went out of your way, grooming yourself to perfection in the shower and even buying some cute underwear for him to see when you finally got your way with him again.

the plan was for him to stop by your apartment at 8pm. there was no use in calling him in in the morning knowing what your true intentions with him were. his texts had perfectly communicated his nerves, so you were pretty sure he had a good idea of what would go down tonight rather than studying.

you made sure to pretty yourself up, but without going too overboard. lingerie would probably be too much, so you opted for some simple lace under some skimpy pjs as you waited for the clock to hit 8. but time really could not go any slower.

when 7:58pm hit, you decided to go wait by the door, knowing the cutie would likely want to arrive a little earlier. he was always the type to be seated in class before everyone else. it was an adorable habit, if you said so yourself.

proof of what a good boy he was.

just before it turned 8, you heard some murmurs coming from the other side of your door, leading you to inspect and see if jeonghan was standing on the other side of the door.

then a thought came across your mind.

maybe the cutie was waiting until after 8. perhaps he wanted to not seem desperate. god, so adorable.

"okay, fuck. calm down. it's just- it's just y/n. it's just studying ... yeah. studying," you heard him whisper to himself.

looking through the peephole, you spotted the long-haired boy taking deep breaths, hand coming up at a snail's speed to knock on your door before backing out. this went on a few times before you gave up and decided for open the door for yourself.

best to catch him off guard.

"o-oh! hi ..." he mumbled after the initial scare of your sudden appearance left him — his widened eyes behind his frames were the cutest thing!

"hannie! it's past 8. i thought you were more punctual than that?", you decided to tease him before pulling him into your place.

"ah, i- i'm sorry, i didn't-"

"i'm kidding, hannie. i'm just happy you're here," you grinned at him, "you know, for studying."

"haha, yes, right."

the poor boy awkwardly put down his backpack as you led him over to your couch, signaling for him to take a seat. even when you sat down, he remained standing, looking around awkwardly before letting his knees bend and taking a seat.

as he sat next to you, his hands remained on his knees and his posture was entirely too stiff. you didn't need to know anything about behavioral analysis to be able to tell he felt out of place. his entire demeanor was closed off and maybe even slightly scared.

this made you pout a bit. maybe you should help him out a bit?

scooting closer, your body faced his own. your hand came up to lay on one of his, making him jumo slightly at the sudden touch. the reaction was then followed by a tiny giggle from you and a shy chuckle from him.

"are you nervous? do i make you nervous," you asked in the sweetest manner you could.

he nodded, eyes glued to your connected hands.

"you don't need to be nervous, hannie. i just wanted to ... spend time with you. we had so much fun last time, didn't we?"

from where you sat, he looked like the prettiest thing you'd ever seen. you hoped he took the hint soon, because your resolve was breaking just from seeing that pretty nose and those wide, brown eyes.

"ye-yes," he cleared his throat, finally sneaking a glance at you.

you took a chance and scoot even closer, knees now knocking.

"i was thinking maybe we could just unwind a little bit before we get to the studying. what do you think?" your tone was clear in what you were hinting at. and jeonghan was smart enough to catch onto this, nerves or not.

he'd known since the moment you set up the meeting, but you couldn't blame the poor shy thing if he thought you had been literal in your usage of the word studying.

once again, he hesitated before nodding, gulping when you bit your lip in excitement at his confirmation.

god, you were going to have so much fun with him.

~

"oh, fuck, p-please, i- i'll do anything just, o-oh, fuck, yesyesyes."

"ever felt pussy before, hannie?" you sighed as you let yourself lower onto him, attempting to remain unaffected by the feeling.

you'd been teasing him for a bit, making out with him as you ground down onto his hardness (which, it seemed like he'd been hard since he walked through the door) up until you grew too antsy, opting to rid you both of your clothes so you could feel his skin. that was when the teasing really began, though, as you grabbed onto his cock and ran his tip against your clit, knowing the slick stimulation would have him whining.

that went on for a few minutes (spent by him begging and pleading for you to let him feel you) until this moment.

but nothing couldve prepared you for how fucking good he'd feel once inside you.

you'd already been pulsing at the mere sight of him, but to get him to fill you up? while he cried out and dug his fingers onto the skin of your hips? that was everything and more.

"nnngh, i- n-no, never," he managed between hiccuped gasps — and you hadn't even moved an inch since enveloping him.

"good. this is the only one you will ever feel," you werent sure if that was a threat or a promise, but either one worked.

you began moving then, taking turns between grinding deliciously against him for you down gratification, and bouncing so his eyes could roll further back into his head. both were enjoyable for you and life-ruining for jeonghan.

"f-feel so good, oh, god, fuck, yes!"

"don't stop, oh, please please please, don't stop ..."

"a-again, please! o-oh, that's it, that's- oh, god, yes ..."

he was way more talkative now that he was buried in pussy, his voice going an octave higher as he whined and cried at you, never-ending encouragement leaving his lips. his entire demeanor was breaking you down. you felt a sick gratification from breaking him to an even bigger stammering mess than he was on a regular basis.

you were so close, so near your end that his own orgasm caught you off guard. but you took advantage, tightening around him as your hand went down to toy at your clit, knowing you could get yourself there by the mere look of utter bliss displayed on the angelic features of the boy below you.

the image of jeonghan as he let pleasure take him an toy with him as it pleased was one of the prettiest sights you'd ever seen. this would surely become a visual to revisit time and time again any time you found yourself lonely at night.

endless pretty sighs left his lips as his eyes became wet with tears. he looked almost pained, but the constant mumbles of gratitude and praise told a different story.

your orgasm took the backseat as you allowed yourself to thoroughly enjoy the former virgin be defiled for the first time. you'd never had a virgin before, but now you knew this would be the one and only exception. nothing would ever live up to the angel boy you'd somehow gotten into your bed, nor would you be able to not bring him back again and again.

"i ... thank you," he mumbled after a few moments of silence when his orgasm had subsided.

you couldn't blame him. not when the feeling had taken over his entire body in the way it did. him thanking you was just the cutest thing.

with a hand on his cheek, you caressed the skin, thumb swiping at the wetness under his eye before leaning down to give him a sweet kiss on the lips.

"thank you, angel. i had so much fun," you couldn't help giggling.

he gulped up at you, taking a breath before speaking up again.

"do you, uh, do you think we could .. we could do this again sometime? i, uh, i really- i just-"

"oh, hannie," you interrupted him, somehow invading his personal space even more by pressing kisses to his chest, "we'll be doing this again, don't you worry. you're mine now."

his reaction expressed both fear and relief, but the cock still inside you gave you a way more satisfactory reaction, inspiring you into continuing to defile the boy late into the night.

[rafeswhre]

Hi 🙃 could you maybe write a fanfic where rafe gets hurts and reader is patching him up and there’s lots of tension because he’s so stubborn? Thank you 🤗

rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: suggestive content but not smut (almost lol), mentions of blood, established relationship!

a/n: english isn’t my first language i’m sorry for any mistakes (specially verbs lmao)

currently it was 1:00 am, lately you couldn’t sleep, so watching your phone in you bed was pretty much the best you could do.

you heard something on your window, which was strange, you turned around to find something but you couldn’t find anything.

again.

and again.

you kinda freaked out so you get up from your bed and slowly walk to your window.

again.

“oh my god” you gasped once you approached the window, then you opened. “are you insane, rafe?” you looked down.

“are you gonna let me in or..?”

“it’s past midnight, rafe!” you moved from your window so he could climb.

he entered your room with a small smile on his face. suddenly you realize that something was wrong.

“what’s on your face?” you got closer to him.

“what? nothing.” he pulled away.

you frowned and you walked to turn on the light in your room, you turned around to look at him.

“oh god, rafe!” you gasped once you watched his face with a cut in his eyebrow and his cheek with a bruise. “what the hell happened to you?”

“it’s nothing, i’m alright.” he sat on your bed.

“rafe, you’re bleeding.” you said in a serious tone.

he touched his eyebrow, looking down at his hand to see his fingers had the tiniest bit of blood on them. “oh...is it really?"

“what is wrong with you?” you frowned.

he rolled his eyes. “nothing is wrong with me...I'm fine. I just got into a fight, you don't have to act like it's a huge deal."

“of course, rafe.” you rolled your eyes and walked to your bathroom, trying to find your medicine kit.

“hey, i’m alright, i can handle it.”

you didn't say anything, you just sighed and kept looking through your things.

“you don’t have to worry, alright? i’ll be fine, i didn’t come here for you to patch me up like a damn puppy.”

“rafe?” you called him out.

“yeah..?” he lifted up his eyebrows.

“shut up.”

he was a bit caught off guard by your sudden tone, but he shut up and went silent like you told him to, not without a sigh and rolling his eyes of course.

in silence, you walked to your bed with everything you needed then you sit in his lap for more access to his face.

his eyes widened as you sat on his lap, his heart rate increasing a bit from being so close to you.

“it’s nothing necessary, i swear-“ he was interrupted by the burning of the alcohol in his eyebrow. “oh, fuck-“ he flinches a bit and winces from the pain of the alcohol on his wound, instinctively putting a hand on your waist as you do so.

“i’m sorry.” you said sadly.

he looked up at you as you apologized, his hand gently gripping your side “it's fine.. just hurts a little, that's all.."

“well, it wouldn’t if you didn’t get into a fight.” you threatened him.

he huffed and looked down, knowing there was no denying that. "it's not like I can help it whenever some guy decides to run his fucking mouth, it's not my fault I act on impulse.."

“it is your fault, rafe.”

“well he shouldn’t have started it.”

you rolled your eyes. “it doesn’t matter, you don’t follow their stupid behavior.”

he looked to other side, pretending he didn’t hear you.

“it doesn’t matter what someone decides to say or do, you’re better than that.” you looked at him. “rafe, baby, i don’t want you to get hurt.”

“i know.” he looked down.

“hey, just promise me you won’t get.. you know.. physical.”

“alright.” he agreed with a small side smile.

you finished curing him, you took his face and gave him a little kiss on his cheek.

“was that supposed to be a reward for me agreeing or something..?" a hint of a smile at his lips.

you giggled at his comment. “no, i just felt like it.”

he smiled a bit at your giggle, he always liked the sound of that. he tilted his head, looking at you for a moment before speaking. “you can always feel free to kiss more than my cheek, y'know.”

“i know.” you giggled again and hide in his neck, cuddling in his lap.

his arms wrapping around you and his chin resting gently on top of your head. his hands gently traced over your back as he spoke again, a calm and quiet tone to his voice now. “someone's awfully clingy today.."

you stepped back moving away from his neck, still wrapping your hands around his neck. “oh, I'm sorry to bother you.” you rolled your eyes.

“i never said it was bothering me, I actually don't mind how close you're being right now" he pulled your hips a bit closer to him, now flush against him.

“hey.. don’t do that.” you jumped a little because of the sudden proximity.

“why not?” he pulled your hips closer again, more firmly this time.

“my parents are home.�� you pout.

“oh, right, your parents are home, what a shame.” he said with a sarcastic tone.

“rafe, i mean it.” you smiled.

“i know.” he chuckled faintly, clearly enjoying this, he acted as if he was going to loosen his grip, but instead, he pulled your hips against him more, bringing you right up against his chest before speaking again. “but you still haven't actually stopped me, y'know"

you giggled. “i know.”

he moved his hands up from your hips to your waist, his hands resting there now. “good, so I don't have to stop, right?"

you sigh at the feeling of your hips together. “i don’t know, babe.”

he took note of how you seemed to relax slightly as you were against him, his hands on your waist rubbing gently over your skin now. his tone low as he spoke. “you know, we can still be quiet, right?”

“if my parents know that you’re here they’re gonna kill me.”

he pulled your hair away from your neck to have more access to it. “maybe you just have to keep quiet then, huh? think you can be quiet for me?” he kissed your neck.

“i’ll try.”

he smirked and started sucking softly on a spot of your neck, his hands gently rubbing down your waist and sides in a slow, soft motion.

he pulled your hips flush with his again, now having you pretty much straddling him, his hips gently rolling as he continued sucking on your neck.

“could you touch me?” you sighed.

he continued sucking on your neck for a few more seconds before slowly pulling back, his lips now hovering by your ear as he spoke in a low tone, his hands still rubbing at your sides. “touch you where, baby?"

“rafe, baby, come on.” you said frustrated.

he chuckled again faintly, enjoying how desperate you were getting. he kept his face by your ear, his hands still rubbing you gently, his voice still low and cocky as he spoke. “mmm, you need to use your words, baby... I need to know exactly what you want me to touch"

“you know where..” you were cut off by a knock on your door.

he chuckled again as you spoke before the sharp knock at the door startled both of you. He paused his hands for a minute, a silent dread of being caught hitting him as he whispered low to you. “fuck, that better not be your parents."

“who else would it be, rafe?” you frown at him.

“yeah okay, my bad” he rolled his eyes. “what do i do?”

“sshh” you silent him, the door knocked again. “hey baby are you alright?” your mom said.

both of your eyes widened as you heard your mother's voice.

“oh- yes, mom!”

"Are you sure you’re alright sweetie, I heard some noises.. What are you doing in there?"

“i’m- watching a movie.”

"Honey, you sure you’re okay… Why can’t I come in?” your mom was trying to open the door.

“oh my god, oh my god, rafe! get under the bed, now!” your were about to lose your mind.

he sighed, knowing he had no other choice here and there was nowhere else to hide. he gently pushed you off of him, crawling to the side of the bed, trying to duck under there. “okay, okay, i’m going, i’m going..”

“i’m sorry mom! im coming!” you stand up and open the door. “sooo, what’s wrong, mom?” you smile softly trying to keep calm.

your mom responded, her tone still suspicious sounding. “you were so reluctant to let me in before, it sounded like you were doing something you didn’t want me to see."

“pfff come on, mom! what would i be doing?”

“i’m gonna check your room, okay? let me in.”

“do you really think is necessary? come on.” you heard your dad calling from their room. “see mom? even dad wants you there! go to bed, i promise you im fine”

your mom let out a soft sigh, clearly not wanting to stop her search, but being called by your father.

“alright, alright, fine… I’ll call it a night, sweetie, but, I want no funny business in here, alright?”

your laughed. “alright mom, night!” you sighed and locked your door.

he heard the footsteps fade down the hall and the soft click of the door closing. he let out a soft sigh of relief, crawling back out from underneath the bed, stretching and standing up straight again.

“oh my god, rafe.” you left out air with a laugh.

he chuckled as she breathed out, finding it amusing how close a call that just was. “that was a close one, baby, but you were convincing, I’ll give you that..”

“oh god, i almost passed out.” you collapsed in your bed.

you laughed and sit in your bed. “baby, you gotta go.”

he laughed at your response, knowing he should leave right now. “alright, I should probably go before I get caught leaving… but you looked so damn cute tonight…”

you get up from your bed and wrapped your arms around his neck. “i love you.”

he smiled, wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you closer to him, his tone soft as he spoke. “i love you too, baby… I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

“alright, be safe.” you gave him a kiss.

he chuckled faintly, kissing you back. “i will, baby… you get some sleep, alright? You seem pretty worn out..”

“okay, rafe, get ooout!” you laughed.

“alright, I’m going, I’m going..” he slowly untangled himself from your arms, giving you one last quick kiss on your lips before heading to the window.

you smiled after he left, and you let yourself fall into your bed with a sigh.

[wonderjanga]

I’m Never Going Back to That Farm

Clark was talking to Marvel and he realized the man didn’t have anyone to celebrate Christmas with. So, he invited him over. Cause why not? Might as well spread some Christmas spirit. What he didn’t expect was…

Ma Kent: “Clark, your home!” *hugs her son*

Supes: “It’s good to see you too Ma

Ma Kent: “Oh, and who is your little friend-” *looks over to Marvel before doing a double take* “C.C.?”

Marvel: “Huh?”

Ma Kent: “Oh my God, C.C. is that really you?” *turns around to call Pa Kent* “Honey! Come here and look who Clark brought over!”

Supes and Marvel: *share a look*

Pa Kent: “What’s wrong Martha?” *comes from the kitchen* “Charley!? Is that really is you?” *rubs his eyes and looks again* “God, we thought you died in the plane crash! Also, Jesus, you’ve grown 2 feet.”

Supes: “Your name is Charley?” *looks over to Marvel*

Ma Kent: “Oh no sweetie, it’s Clarence, but this guy thought the name was too boring. So we either called him Charley or C.C.”

Marvel: “Haha… Yeah.” *oozing awkwardness*

Supes: *staring with a hint of betrayal*

As for why Clark felt betrayed? Well, his parents knew about Marvel’s entire secret identity before he even did! But, that betrayal was quickly forgotten when his Ma and Pa decided to go down memory lane and pull out a box Clark had never seen before.

Supes: “What’s all this?”

Ma Kent: “Just some old keepsakes your father and I look back on every now and then.”

Pa Kent: *pulls out a photo* “Oh I remember this one. One of my biggest races.” *shows a photo of Ma and Pa Kent, and C.C. and Marilyn all smiling at the camera while Pa Kent is holding a second place trophy*

Supes: “Are you wearing a leather jacket here? Also who’s that?” *points to Marilyn*

Marvel: “That’s my uh…” *looks to the Ma and Pa Kent before looking back to Clark* “My wife?”

Supes: “Wife?!”

Ma Kent: *ignores him* “Speaking of her, where is Marilyn? Did she not come along? Are you two still married?”

Marvel: *also ignores him* “Oh uhm… She didn’t survive the crash.” *still super awkward*

*silence*

Ma Kent: “Oh Charles… I’m so sorry.”

Pa Kent: “And the kids?”

Supes: “Kids?!”

Marvel: *continues ignoring him* “They’re doing good. Mary and Billy are twelve now.”

Ma Kent: “Oh that’s just wonderful. Say, Clark, isn’t Jon the same age as Charley’s kids?”

Supes: “He’s a year younger.”

Pa Kent: *puts the photo of the four of them back into the box* “You two should set up a little playdate.”

Marvel: “Maybe.” *awkward smile*

So now Clark is completely floored. This man that he’s known for nearly 5 years has had a wife who died??? Not only that, but he has two whole children??? Also Cap knew his parents when they were younger??? He’s definitely going to ask more about that playdate though. Jon should have more superpowered friends his age.

Later during dinner…

Pa Kent: “You know, Charley it surprises me how much you haven’t changed.”

Marvel: “Huh…? Whatdya mean?” *shoveling food in his mouth because it delicious*

Ma Kent: “Well, for starters, you look the exact same.” *little laugh as she puts more food on Marvel’s plate*

Pa Kent: “And when you���re not being super awkward, your personality hasn’t changed all that much either.”

Marvel: “You’ve noticed me being awkward?”

Supes: “It’d be kind of hard not to notice, Cap.”

Billy found out more about his parents from this one Christmas alone than he had in his entire life up until now. That is why he will not be coming back to this farm ever again. He’ll send Christmas cards, he might even send a gift or two, but never again. He doesn’t want these two to realize their friend is actually dead. They’re sweet little old people who don’t deserve that. But other than all that, Billy is super happy to find out he and his dad are very similar in personality. It makes him feel closer to the man.

Also, I went on Wikipedia to learn more about the Kent’s and apparently Pa Kent was a race car driver so in case anybody was confused about the race thing, there’s your explanation.

Also, also, as for how the Batsons and the Kents knew each other? Let’s say that Marilyn grew up in Smallville and met Martha. Then Marilyn moved away to Fawcett, but the two still kept in touch. Then both of the women met their respective husbands and they all got together to be a nice little friend group. And then, you know, the Batsons died.

Also, also, also, after this whole thing, Clark started calling Billy Charley or C.C. which made Billy violently flinch when it first happened. After a while though, he grew used to it because he’d rather be called Charley and have someone think he’s C.C. Batson instead of someone thinking he’s Billy.

Also, also, also, also, (I’m sorry I can’t help but add more) when Clark thought no one was looking, he whipped out his phone and took several pictures of the photo of the Kents and Batsons. Or more accurately, he took photos of the part of the picture with C.C. in a leather jacket. Marvel just didn’t seem like the type so he wanted recorded evidence so he could be sure he wasn’t crazy.

Alright I’m done now. Super duper early Christian post, yay!

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + twenty five

authors note: this chapter is emotionally heavy and taxing. please be mindful of your mental ability to handle heavy content.

cw/tw: angst, discussion of child abuse, and direct accounts of child abuse from said child.

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 10k

Giving Roman his space while also being worried sick about him is the last thing Solana was expecting to experience this week, but it’s exactly where she’s got.

They didn’t leave on the best of terms. It wasn’t hostile, not nasty, and no one was angry. There was just this lingering tension. Some level of animosity and frustration on her part, because he refused to listen to her.

Because he refused to stay.

And that irksome guilt on his part. Solana could see it smoldering every time he looked at her, looked at her face, at the bruise. So much so that Solana went and put makeup on in the hopes that camouflaging it could ebb away some of the undeserved guilt. A fruitless effort because he still packed his bag, still gave her that almost reluctant kiss, still murmured an almost sad ‘I love you’ (that she did not reciprocate), and walked out the door.

He still left her. 

It’s childish to a certain extent. Her behavior during his departure. Solana knows and recognizes this. But, it stems deep down from a deep place of concern. She’s worried sick about him, hates that he hates himself for an accident. 

There’s not a single part of her that believes that man would ever lift his hand to her. That’s not her Roman.

What happened truly was an accident. She just wishes she could get him to see that.

She’s hopeful the item she snuck in his bag will help. 

Even if just a little.

The communication between them in the time since he’s been gone is almost non-existent. He texted her when he arrived in Italy and when he made it to the hotel. For that, she was grateful, but she just couldn’t find it in her to offer a written response, settling for hearting his messages. Again, childish. And Solana can recognize that her behavior also stems from just being frustrated with him, angry with him for not staying and going with her plan.

For going so far away to the point that she can’t help him. She just wants to be there for and support him, and all he can seem to do is….is push her away.

And that hurts.

Deeply. 

Especially when he’s been so good in trying and succeeding in supporting her in all of her mess. All she wants to do is return the favor, but he won’t let her. 

And that’s when the anger sets in. Such an unfamiliar experience. 

She’s not an angry person. But, she certainly feels like one.

It’s why she has the thought—or maybe hope—that training will be a good outlet for her to let off some of this uncharacteristic anger. 

If only it happened that way.

Or maybe Solana was too naive. Stupid, possibly, to think she could just walk into training like nothing happened, like the proof of something happening isn’t literally written all over her face in black and blue.

Solana has barely stepped into the training space when the smiles on both Bayley and Naomi’s faces collapse the minute they lay eyes on her.

“Oh my god, Solana!” They rush over, Solana starting to wish she’d taken the time out to use makeup to conceal the bruise. As much as she could. The pigmentation is deep, and even with the heavy application, it was still visible when she tried to hide it for Roman’s sake. “What the hell happened to your face?”

Solana looks away, already regretting her decision to come here in the first place. “I’m fine.”

“What the hell do you mean you’re fine?” Bayley’s eyes are wide, her face painted in disbelief. “Solana, your face is all bruised up.”

An exaggeration. It’s focused on one side of her face, but given the nastiness of its appearance, Solana can slightly understand the description. 

“Solana, what the hell happened?” Naomi repeats her question, this time her lips formed into a line before she asks, “who hit you?” Solana closes her eyes and shakes her head. This is the last thing she needs to be dealing with right now, especially with the nausea that’s starting to build. 

This morning sickness is clearly about to kick her ass with this pregnancy. 

“Solana….” Bayley cuts in, and almost instantly, Solana knows she’s not about to like whatever is said. “Did Roman hit you?”

At that, Solana’s attention is immediately focused back on Bayley. She was absolutely correct in that she doesn’t like the question. At all. 

She can barely find the words to respond to such a thing. “What?”

Naomi looks past her, motioning someone over by them. “Jimmy! Come here.”

Shit. 

And just like that, the situation is progressing from bad to worse. Yeah….she definitely wishes she’d just stayed home. 

“Whassup?” Jimmy’s jovial voice sounds from behind her, Solana barely able to match his smile before, just like Bayley and Naomi, it’s dropped the second he lays eyes on her. On the bruise. “What the hell?” 

“Jimmy, pl—”

“Solana….” Another indication more anger is about to be stirred up on her part. An accurate expectation given the next question to leave his mouth. “Did Roman hit you?” The second it leaves his mouth, she’s filled with anger, but there’s a matching level of that emotion on his end as well. He shakes his head, voice dead serious, more than she’s ever heard from him since their initial meeting months prior. “The truth, Solana. If that son of a bitch, hit you, I wanna know. I’ll handle it.”

They mean well. She knows they mean well, but it’s a combination of all the things. Of what happened with Roman. Roman leaving. A possible pregnancy. A pregnancy she’s hiding because she can’t tell her husband just yet.

It’s just too much.

“Would you all just shut up?” She snaps, voice raised, several sets of eyes on her with varying levels of bewilderment. “I said he didn’t do it, and the fact that you all even think he could ever be capable of that is disgusting.”

Because it is. Because they should know him better than that. He’s a lot of things, but that has never been one of them.

And the fact that they’re accusing him of such is infuriating to her. 

Shaking her head, she turns on her heel to leave. “I’m out of here.”

“Solana, wait—”

But, she does nothing of the sort, just keeps walking away, never once looking back.

————

Regrets are a tricky thing. Varying in size and impact. Never a major issue for Roman.

Not until two days prior.

Two days prior where demons from his past submerged, resulting and causing him to do the unthinkable.

On a basic level, he knows it was an accident. Knows that he would never intentionally do anything to ever hurt his wife. Especially in that way. But, the key word is intentionally, because regardless of what he intended, she was hurt.

She was hurt because of him. By his hands. And, that’s something Roman can’t seem to make peace with. Every time he thinks of texting her, of even trying to call her, he’s hit with a flash of her pretty, innocent face marred with that hideous bruise.

A bruise he caused her to have.

And he just as quickly puts his phone away.

He instead opts for something different, something he hasn’t dared to touch since spotting it when emptying his luggage and hanging up some clothes.

Roman walks over to the nightstand where the purple journal with tattered edges and  random stickers plastered has sat untouched. Until now.

Solana’s journal.

It’s aged, most likely one from when she was still a child, and he hasn’t the slightest clue when she placed it in his bag, but the minute he opens it and sees a pink post it with her handwriting on it, his stomach twists in a way it’s only done in the past few months after years of dormancy.

It’s a simple, short but powerful message.

You could never be them.

-Solana

Roman closes his eyes. Right away, he knows he’s in for a heavy, brutal insight into the hell she experienced for so many years. A part of him doesn’t want to. Doesn’t feel fully capable or even worthy of reading her vulnerable words. Her journals are a private thing he would never want to invade. However, she placed it in his bag for a reason. She wants him to read it, some of it, at least. 

The least he can give her……is that.

Bracing himself as best he can for what he’s about to read, Roman turns to the first entry.

Dear Mami,

I try really hard not to make dad upset, but it’s hard. He’s always angry and yelling at me. 

I know you always told me to stay out of his way, but it’s hard, mama. He makes me do all the cleaning and cooking like he made you. Sometimes, he doesn’t let me eat. 

I wish you were here.

Love,

Sol

————

Dear Mami,

Yesterday was really scary. Dad yelled at me for almost an hour and was throwing things. He hit me, too. I tried not to cry.

I’m trying to be strong like you, but it’s hard.

I’m not like you, mami. I’m not strong, and I don’t know how to be.

I miss you,

Sol

————

Dear Mami,

I keep looking for Hummingbirds. I know you said they don’t fly here, but I keep hoping I’ll see just one. I just want to see you again, mama. I miss you so much.

I wish they never took you from me.

I don’t have anybody anymore. 

I’m all alone.

Love,

Sol

————

Dear Mami,

I don’t know what I did, but I made dad really mad. He just kept hitting me and hitting me. Then Wes started hitting me too. It was hard for me to get the blood to stop, but I did exactly what you taught me, and it worked.

My body hurts really bad, but I’m scared to leave my room cause I might see dad.

I think I’m gonna sleep in the closet tonight.

Love,

Sol

————

Mami,

I’m sorry I haven’t written you. 

Something….something really bad happened to me, mama. 

The detective lady said it wasn’t my fault, but it was. I was too weak. I’m not strong like you.

I’m sorry I let you down.

I hope you still love me.

Solana

————

It’s that last entry that Roman has to stop at. He can handle a lot. Has handled a lot, but this…..this he can’t.

He always knew Solana went through hell in that house, both from speculation as well as confirmation from her. But, to read her words in real time, to see with his own eyes the extent of that hell.

A child. She was a fucking child.

No one deserves what she went through.

No one. 

And while he understands her intentions, maybe hope, she had with him reading her entries being enough to trigger more self-forgiveness. Thought that him gaining better insight into her abuse would lessen his feelings of guilt towards his actions…..that’s not entirely the outcome.

Maybe to some extent.

But, it’s hard to feel any bit better knowing he’s unintentionally contributed to her massive pile of traumatic experiences. 

Ashamed. Roman feels ashamed. A new, heavy ass experience that has him partially weighed down, even more so now knowing exactly some of the thoughts and sentiments Solana experienced while enduring years worth of torture. 

Eyes shut, he’s tempted to grab his phone and just text her, check in on her. Because while he hates what he did, he also hates how they left off.

How he left her. 

Because she didn’t want him to leave. Because she practically begged him to stay, but he left regardless, because he didn’t feel right being and staying around her after what happened. 

Didn’t feel like she was safe around him.

The way he still feels now. 

Redirecting himself, Roman instead swaps the journal for his phone, choosing to respond to messages from Dwayne and Matteo. Focusing on the business purpose of his trip. He can at least acknowledge that he’s done a decent job completely immersing himself in the role of Capo. A necessity given the purpose of this whole trip.

Well, the original purpose. 

Interactions with members of the Administration thus far have irked him almost as much as interactions with the Elders. Their judgmental expressions of his long hair—that he absolutely wears down just to piss them off—and tattoos—also hidden—do nothing to hide the racist reasons they truly despise him. 

It’s a nice distraction, knowing how much he gets under their skin, knowing that it kills them that he’s as intelligent and successful and fucking good as he is, hence why they can’t find a legitimate way to dethrone him. 

The memory of him putting a babbo down brings a small smirk to his face. A small slice of amusement tucked in between everything else heavy and egregious. It’s short lived, however. Because it’s not pertinent right now. 

No, Roman has other matters to tend to, much more important ones that he’s gone back and forth with himself on for days, ultimately deciding to bite the bullet.

Even with having this newfound piece of information via Solana’s journals. 

Roman moves over to the table and opens up his laptop, a quick glance at the clock on the wall alerting him that it’s time. 

Logging in and getting set up take less than a minute, only for her to not be on, that annoying ass “Your clinician will start the appointment shortly” welcome message taunting him.

And just like that, Roman is instantly annoyed.

Does punctuality mean fucking nothing?

He’s even more irritated when the screen lights up a couple minutes later revealing his wife’s therapist. “You’re late.”

Gail looks like she wants to roll her eyes but ultimately decides not to. A wise decision. “I usually don’t get into the office until—”

“I don’t care.” He honestly, truly doesn’t. There’s a bit of hesitation as he asks, “how is she doing?”

Roman watches her shift in her seat, followed by movement that indicates she’s moving around some items on her desk. “Good. I’m pleased with her progress and dedication to continuing treatment.”

That’s relieving to hear. Much more than he’s willing to let on. Especially after what he just finished reading. “Did she attend yesterday?” He already knows the answer, having stayed on top of Nia via probably annoying, frequent texts reminding her of all the important things. Times of Solana’s appointments. Location of said appointments. Importance of making sure Nia puts Solana’s medication back exactly where he keeps it.

All of the things.

“She did.” He sees it, the unspoken question in her voice. And, he’s prepared to tell her to just ask the shit, letting him decide if he wants to answer it or not. But, she’s two steps ahead of him. “Mr. Reigns, this call wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with the bruise she tried to hide with makeup, now would it?”

Fuck.

Roman doesn’t care about her question or the almost implication in said question. What he cares about is the fact that his wife is having to cake her face in makeup to hide the result of his lack of self0control. Is having to lie about how she acquired said bruise. 

It’s……crushing. Truly. 

Reminds him of her haunting words written as a child.

Similar words probably being penned in her most recent journal as a result of his actions. 

His arrogance is definitely knocked down a peg, as he asks in a low voice, “what did she tell you?”

Gail sits back in her chair, answering evenly. “Accident while training.”

It’s believable. Roman will give Solana that, but he’s not surprised. She probably spent years having to explain away bruises as a result of her despicable family. 

It’s difficult to not group himself in that same category, however. 

No matter what Solana says. 

“You said…..you said she’s codependent on me.” Roman’s gaze is focused on the cherry wood table in his hotel room and not on the woman watching him through the screen. It’s…..it’s easier that way. “How attached is she to me?”

Gail’s eyes narrow as she jumps straight to the point. “Roman, what exactly are you asking me?”

Nothing he ever anticipated having to ask. 

Or even consider.

It’s difficult for him to hide the heaviness in said answer. “What do you think it would do to her mentally if we weren’t together anymore?”

————

Here in the night

I see the sun

Here in the dark

Our two hearts are one

Solana grabs her phone and pauses the music, realizing it’s been a while since she took a break.

Sitting in her home library, surrounded by boxes, boxes filled with her books and journals finally transported from her work library has been the activity to occupy her racing mind for the past two hours.

It’s been a nice distraction. That and work itself the past few days. Getting back into her usual routine has been helpful, and coming back to a barrage of letters, cards, drawings, and other heartwarming gifts from the kids really was the highlight of her return. 

She’s never felt so loved than in the moment where they practically bum rushed her with hugs or when Mrs. Jensen handed over all of their “get well soon” gifts they’d brought in while she was away. It was enough to bring tears to her eyes, a welcomed change given those tears came from pleasant emotions.

Not like the ones she’s been crying ever since Roman left a couple days ago. She still hasn’t spoken to him. Not really. Not outside of occasional almost awkward check-in texts that she replies to with just as much awkwardness, if not just an emoji reaction. 

It’s miserable and stupid. She wants to talk to him. Wants to hear his voice, but she’s also trying to be respectful. Then there’s the lingering anger and frustration toward him for leaving, even if it’s subsided mostly into just sadness.

And loneliness. 

She misses him.

Misses falling asleep next to and waking up to him, something she was deprived of when she was away at treatment. But now, she’s right back in the same space. 

And even this, finally being able to start setting up her library/art room he thoughtfully created for her, is a bittersweet thing. She always imagined this being something they would do. Her handing journals and books to Roman for him to place up on the shelves that she cannot reach. His arms around her, frequently distracting her with dirty whispers of promised pleasure later that evening. Her sitting on his lap as she feeds him whatever she decided to make for lunch as they took a break.

It was just supposed to be different from this. 

Solana’s hand falls to her stomach. 

It was all supposed to be different from this. 

Tears pooling once again, she shakes her head, refusing to spiral yet again. She instead grabs her phone and once again ignores the unread texts from a variety of people. Naomi. Bayley. Even Melina and them.

Their messages are warranted given the abrupt almost cold text she sent to their group telling them the girls trip was off and to be postponed for a later date and time.

A part of her feels bad, but she’s mostly relieved. 

She just….she just needs space.

Doesn’t feel like talking.

If it’s not Roman, she’s not interested.

Her husband is the only person she wants to interact with, but she can't. Thus, her self-imposed isolation. 

He’s not an option currently, so until then, she just wants to be alone.

Solana is interrupted by her phone dinging, and the way she jumps with the hope that it’s maybe Roman is squashed the minute she realizes it’s not his notification sound and simply a calendar reminder. 

Appt w/ Dr. Michaels @ 2pm

Solana gasps and curses to herself.

She’d completely forgotten about scheduling that, most likely because she hates the fact that she’s even doing it.

She quickly hits dismiss on the alarm and stands up, sliding the phone in the back pocket of her jean shorts. The space around her is still a mess, some boxes partially open, others still taped shut. This is a project that’s clearly going to need to be completed in phases.  

Thus, she grabs a couple of unorganized journals scattered on the floor and drops them into a box, just to get them out the way, missing how a faded letter with her name written across in neat handwriting slips out one of the books and lays untouched and unseen on the floor. 

Out of the library and into the rest of the house, Solana has little difficulty finding Nia. Her husband's cousin who he somehow talked into, most likely forced, to stay with her has spent most of her time in her room, the gym, or the living room. 

And the latter of which is where Solana finds her, but not only her. Bautista is present, standing near the opposite end of the sofa where Nia sits.

It’s not surprising, however, given his almost “promotion” to guarding her at home, alternating with Solo for some outside outings as well. His service while she was away as well as his friendly disposition and Solana being comfortable with him securing this new arrangement.

Solana nervously clears her throat. “Nia?”

The other woman sighs. Loudly. “What?”

And just like that, the nerves are starting to set in. Nia isn’t going to like this. “I forgot I scheduled a doctor’s appointment today.”

Nia’s groan is also loud as she pauses the show and turns to Solana with a scowl. “Seriously? Can’t you like reschedule it or something?”

Not really. “No. I—I need to go.”

“Are you dying?”

Solana hesitates for a second. “Umm, no, but—”

“Then you don’t need to go,” she says it in the cheeriest voice, grabbing the remote to turn off the TV. Standing up, Nia briefly looks over at a quiet Bautista then back at Solana. “I’m going to take a nap.”

Solana frowns. Does Nia not have other plans then? Because, Solana could understand if her appointment interfered with pre-existing obligations, but if there are none….what’s the issue?

Once it’s just the two of them, Bautista clears his throat. “If…..if I may?”

Solana looks over at him, managing a small smile. “Of course.” It doesn’t matter how many times she tells this man he doesn’t have to behave so reserved around her, he remains firm with his professionalism and manners. 

Regardless, the respect is deeply appreciated.

He walks over to her, keeping a respectful distance but still close enough for her to hear his calm, leveled voice. “Roman Reigns is our Tribal Chief. He sits at the Head of the Table. We all acknowledge him just like we all answer to him.” His tone takes a firmer, almost convictive nature. “You are Solana Reigns. The wife of the Tribal Chief, meaning you sit directly next to him at that table. You only answer to him. No one else.”

Silence.

There’s a heavy but powerful silence that follows his words. A silence that’s filled with thinking and recognition. Solana has always known, never been ignorant to the power her husband holds. All that comes with his status and position. But, it’s not until this moment, not until Bautista frames it that way, that she fully recognizes just how much of that, if not all of it, carries over to his wife.

She is the wife of the Tribal Chief.

And that means something. 

Nodding from a newfound sense of confidence and credence, Solana offers a heartfelt, “thank you, Bautista.” Lifting her chin, she informs, “we’ll be leaving shortly.”

There’s a small smile playing on his lips. “Yes ma’am.”

Pleased and determined, Solana turns on her heel and doesn’t waver as she makes her way up the stairs and down the hall until she’s standing before Nia’s door. 

She doesn’t even bother with knocking.

Opening the door, Solana finds Nia laying in bed. She jumps up and removes her sleep mask, irritation all over her face. “What the he—”

“I said I have an appointment.” Solana has never felt more assured than she does at this moment, not a bit of her reluctant as she orders, “be ready in half an hour.”

And with that, she turns on her heel and walks out without another word.

It’s not needed.

She said what she said.

————

Despite an excellent, earlier display of assertiveness, to say Solana feels good about her decision, as a whole, would be a lie, because she doesn’t. Going behind Roman’s back is what she feels like she’s doing, and that is an awful feeling. But, she’s in this tricky situation where she doesn’t want to tell him about the pregnancy if there is in fact no pregnancy. And if she is pregnant, she doesn’t want to tell him via a text or phone call because that feels too impersonal. And, she also just doesn’t want to tell him, period, because he’s already beating himself up over what happened and him knowing that she is pregnant could only make it worse.

And yes, she could just take a home test, but at this point, she needs to know with absolute certainty. A home test can’t do that for her.

But, a blood test can.

Thus, where she currently sits: in the lobby of the private clinic where her husband’s doctor operates out of. Because she needs a medical professional, but she doesn’t know who to go to. Doesn’t know how this is supposed to work. She just knows that if she is pregnant, it’s important that it doesn’t get out for a lot of reasons.

Especially since she has to be the one to tell her husband.

Just when the time is right. 

“Why exactly are we here again?” Nia’s bored voice cuts her from her thoughts, Solana looking up from the thread she has opened. The one between her and Roman. “It’s probably just allergies.”

As part of doing her best to hide her pregnancy, Solana wisely made up an excuse of her throat feeling weird and a headache to explain to Nia and Bautista this otherwise random appointment. So far, it seems to be working. “Maybe, but I just want to make sure. You know Roman had the flu not too long ago.”

Nia rolls her eyes and wisely says nothing else, focusing back on the book in her hand. It’s not missed upon Solana how her gaze briefly darts to Bautista.

She’s not sure what exactly is going on there, but Solana could get behind it. In a strange sort of way, they just make sense to her. 

He could maybe help Nia level out the way Solana tends to help Roman with his temper.

“Mrs. Reigns?” 

Solana looks up to see the nurse standing by the door. She turns to Nia and Bautista. “I’ll be back.”

“You sure you don’t need us to wait in the hall or something?” His question is valid as is the concern on his handsome face, but Solana can’t risk them somehow overhearing the truth behind this appointment. 

“No, I’ll be fine.” She manages a small smile that probably doesn’t reach her eyes, turning on her heel to follow the nurse to the back. 

Solana is most definitely experiencing heightened anxiety that only intensifies when she spots Dr. Michaels coming from the other end of the hall. 

He’s not alone, however. A tall man, about the same height as the doctor. Smooth chocolate skin with a decent build for a man who looks to be in his fifties is beside him, focused on whatever Dr. Michaels is saying to him. 

“......firefighter, doctor, what’s next? Police officer.” She overhears her husband’s doctor who wears a teasing smile. “You’re just crossing them all off the list, ain’t you?” A friendly set of blue eyes settle on her when the gap between both is closed. “Well, what a sur—”

“Solana……”

Solana finds herself frowning, her attention directed to the man who she’s never seen before this very moment but who somehow knows her name and is staring directly at her. It’s not a predatory stare or even something inappropriate. It’s almost…..sad.

He’s looking at her like he’s just seen a ghost.

Dr. Michaels is also looking at the man next to him but with a different kind of expression. One that screams, you can’t just address the Tribal Chief’s wife so informally like that. “Mrs. Reigns, I apologize for the wait.” 

Solana shakes her head, still unsure why this stranger keeps staring at her. “It’s okay.” She hugs herself, looking past him to see if she can spot whatever door is open that could be the room they’ll be in. “Are you ready or…..”

“Of course.” He turns to the man beside him, offering a handshake. “Good to have you on the team, Dr. Adams.” 

Dr. Adams.

Yeah, not familiar at all. 

This Dr. Adams finally removes his gaze from her to accept Dr. Michaels handshake, only nodding as he gives her one last, almost regretful look and carefully moves past her.

Solana frowns in the wake of his absence. What was that?

Dr. Michaels apologizes again. “Sorry about that. Come with me.” Wordlessly, she follows him, moving to sit on the patient bed, anxiety growing once again as he closes the door. “Now, I hear you’re having some—”

“You can’t tell Roman I was here.”

It’s certainly not what she planned to say. Not yet, anyway. But, it’s exactly what comes out, Solana closing her eyes and going to correct herself. “I mean…..I’m gonna tell him myself. I just….I just need time.”

Time and a plan. Along with many other things she doesn’t need to tell the man before her.

His jovial disposition has shifted into something almost nervous and uncomfortable. “Solana, what’s going on here?”

She takes a breath, head tilted back, giving herself one final boost of encouragement before answering. “I need…..I need a pregnancy test.”

The release of what she’s been holding in for the past couple weeks is both terrifying and relieving. She hates that the first person she’s uttering the words to, even if just a thought of pregnancy, isn’t her husband. But, she also knows that she’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. Even more, she needs to know for certain, and Dr. Michaels is the only one who can provide her with that answer.

He looks only slightly less confused. “I see…..” Shifting the tablet under his arm to in front of him, he speculates, “and Roman doesn’t know that you might be…..”

“No,” she answers, voice small. “I’m—I’m going to tell him, but I want to know for sure first.” Again, only a part of a much bigger, complicated story. 

“Well, I can absolutely do a blood test, but I’m general medicine, Solana. I’m not an—”

“OB-GYN. I know. I just…..I didn’t know who else to go to. You’re Roman’s doctor, so he obviously trusts you.” Enough to manage his health, at least. “And I don’t know if there’s a specific doctor the Bloodline uses—”

“There is,” he supplies with a small smile. “I’ll make sure to give you her info before you leave. Even if….” He trails off, clearly not wanting to state what Solana would be shocked to find out is a false alarm.

She feels pregnant. 

He clears his throat. “I don’t mean to pry, but have you told anyone e—”

“No.” It’s an easy, truthful answer. “I haven’t said a word to anyone, and I won’t. Not until I find out if I am and definitely not until I tell Roman.”

He nods, clearly agreeing with this plan. “I will say, the big guy might order that this pregnancy stays just between you and your care team. And I guess me now,” he ends with a chuckle. “You’re the Tribal Chief’s wife who might be carrying his first official heir. That target over your head just got a hell of a lot bigger.” It’s weird, but his words don’t come across as fearmongering or even a scare tactic. Just a genuine warning of what’s to come. “But, that’ll be discussed between—”

“How is he?” It’s a breathless almost thing that falls out of her mouth. An unintended question but one she finds herself asking, nonetheless. “Roman, I mean, like….his health.”

Because on top of worrying about his mental state, being in front of his doctor has her curious about the physical side of things. 

“You’re a smart young lady, Solana.” Dr. Michaels starts, voice tentative almost. “You know how HIPAA works…..”

She closes her eyes. “I’m not asking you as a patient’s wife. I’m–” She takes a deep breath, voice firm and solid. “I’m asking you as the Tribal Chief’s wife.”

Bautista’s words still playing in the back of her head, Solana has never really considered what role she plays as Roman’s wife. Never thought to pull that card, because it’s almost out of character. She’s always been more inclined to shy away from status than to use it to her benefit. But, this is different. This is about Roman, and there isn’t much she wouldn't do to help him or even to know if and what he needs help with. 

And he’s been mum regarding his blood pressure as of late, so her curiosity is only naturally piqued. 

There’s obvious hesitation, but he relents, partially to her surprise. “He’s doing alright. Numbers look decent. Seems that he’s finally recognizing how serious this could be if he doesn’t do what he needs to do to keep from progressing to another stage again.”

“Wait. What?” Solana frowns. “Stage? What….what are you talking about?” A brief look of panic flashes in his blue eyes, alerting Solana that something is very much not right. “What stage?”

“Fuck…..” He closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He didn’t tell you….”

“Tell me what?” Solana presses, her anxiety almost through the roof  “I’m not—I’m not gonna ask again.”

Dr. Michaels sighs with defeat. “Look, the last time Roman was here, his numbers were bad. Like, he jumped from prehypertension to stage one actual hypertension bad. I had to up his dosage and increase his follow up appointments as well as bloodwork check-ins.” Solana’s heart swells and her stomach jumps, and Dr. Michaels clearly sees how devastated this news has her, thus him adding, “but, like I said, he’s been on top of it and is looking good…..”

It’s hard for her to focus on that ending bit when all she can think about is one thing.

Lie.

Roman lied to her. 

She asked him. She fucking asked him how his appointment went, how his blood pressure was doing, if he was okay. And, he lied. He lied to her face. He told her he was fine, and he wasn’t.

He still isn’t. 

And this time, instead of lying, he’s just left.

Ran away. 

Like he always does. 

“Solana…..”

It’s the almost gentle way her name is said that alerts her to the fact that she’s crying, tears spilling down her face as she clutches her stomach. 

“Can I just have the test, please?” Because that’s all she wants and needs at this point. She just needs to know for certain, and she needs to get the hell out of here. 

She just needs to get away from it all.

————

Solana has never considered herself an irrational person. Most definitely not impulsive. Even with both of her suicide attempts, they may have been impulsive in the moment, but they didn’t indicate a truly impulsive personality or even disposition. 

But, that hasn’t been the case for the past three days.

No, it hasn’t been the case, because Solana’s current situation is the direct result of impulsivity.

She sits in her bedroom, Dulce sleeping peacefully in her bed on the floor beside her. Bautista and Nia are somewhere in the house that is not her main home, but the house purchased by her husband for her.

She’s in Isla Mujeres.

And has been for three days now.

Coming home from the shocking appointment, Solana found herself packing a small bag for herself, one for Dulce, and telling both Nia and Bautista to get ready because they were flying out that night. 

Her command left no room for argument, and that’s exactly what occurred, hence how Solana ended up where she is.

It’s been a true form of escape.

Feeling overwhelmed with all of it, Solana knew she needed to just not be around any of it.

And this place has served as a site of refuge, providing her with some level of tranquility that’s been escaping her back home.

Again, her random text to the group chat regarding her “going away” for a couple of days was met with another round of bombarding messages and calls. And Solana isn’t stupid, she knows and can understand her friends being concerned about her.

But, it’s not like she’s entirely alone. She has two people who are making sure she’s safe despite her perhaps strange behavior, and that’s all that matters.

Because she just needs space.

And in an unexpected turn of events, Roman has been added to that list.

He lied. He lied to her. Lied to her about something so important, something regarding his health, of all things. Was dishonest with her.

Again.

It’s becoming a bit of a theme, and she’s not naive. She can somewhat understand why he didn’t tell her. At first. Because she was in the midst of treatment.

But, she’s home now. She’s been home. Why would he not come clean?

Tears burn her eyes. It’s hard to balance understanding with feeling betrayed, because this isn’t the first time her husband hasn’t been honest with her.

And if she’s being honest with herself, this “reason” for the dishonesty being because he’s trying to protect her is…..it’s getting old.

She’s just so frustrated with him. 

So much of this could be avoided if he would just talk to her, and she’s running out of different ways to help him understand as such. 

Wiping at her eyes, Solana grabs a journal off the nightstand. Something she’s discussed with Gail in therapy as of late is the importance of never forgetting where she came from, how far she’s come. Remembering that she’s moving in the right direction.

It’s a strange thing, too. 

On one hand, reading journals from when she was a child and teenager could and maybe should be triggering. And it is. To a certain extent.

But, Solana is proud to say that she can revisit these painful memories and not be drawn back into those dark emotions but rather recognize that was how she used to feel. Where she used to be. 

Who she used to be.

But, not anymore.

Never again.

Solana leans back against the headboard and opens the journal, unsure what she’s about to read but ready regardless.

Dear Mami,

I miss you so much. I’m so so sorry for everything. I’m so sad now that you’re gone. I wish you were here. Daddy is so mean to me. Wes now too. He hates me because it’s my fault you’re dead. 

I’m so sorry. 

Love,

Sol

————

Dear Mami, 

Everything is so much badder now. Daddy is angry at me all the time. Wes too. They call me names. They hurt me, mommy. 

I wish I could be with you.

Yours,

Sol

————

Dear Mami, 

I’m sorry I haven’t written you lately. Daddy got mad at me for spilling some juice, and he broke my arm, so I couldn’t write.

I just got the cast off this morning. 

It still hurts a lot, but at least I can write you.

I got all A’s this quarter, mami! I’m trying to make you proud.

Hope you’ve forgiven me.

Solana

————

Dear Mami,

I feel so sad. Nothing makes me happy anymore. I try to think of you. Remember the times we would draw and sing and cook together. But, it’s not working anymore.

Mommy, I have times where I feel like I can’t breathe cause I feel so sad.

And sometimes when I just don’t want to breathe anymore at all.

Solana

————

Dear Mami,

I don’t want to do this anymore.

Solana

————

Mom,

It was a rough day. I had those thoughts again. I was able to fight them, but it’s so hard. 

I try to think about how you always told me to never stop dreaming. Never stop believing that life is a gift. I try, but it’s hard. 

I try to dream that not all men are like dad and Wes. That not every man in my life will hurt me. That maybe……just maybe I can fall in love someday. Find and marry someone who’s actually nice to me, who treats me with kindness, who loves me.

Kind of like my prince charming.

Do you think I could ever have a happily ever after?

Love,

Sol

Reading the entries definitely stirs up emotions, but it’s the last letter, however, that has her tears subsiding and the weight on her chest decreasing. A complete shift away from the heavy, depressing entries from such dark times in her life. 

A man unlike her dad and brother. 

Roman.

A man who would never hurt her like her dad and brother. 

Roman

A man she could love and marry. Someone who treats her with kindness and loves her. 

Roman 

Solana snaps the journal shut and cries a little harder, feels a little deeper, the realization hitting her like a stack of bricks over the head.

Roman isn’t perfect. He may seem like it sometimes, but he isn’t. He’s just a man. A human being like any other human being. He has his faults, the same way she has hers. He has his demons, just like she has hers.

But one thing that’s always remained consistent is him. He’s been her pillar since the beginning of their marriage, even when things were rocky and they were trying to learn each other. He’s been there for her.

More than any other man in her life, and this rough patch for him, for them, should not be anything that has her questioning him or their relationship.

Roman loves her. Plain and simple. 

The same way she loves him. 

And it’s that love that’s going to get them through this.

Wiping at her eyes, nodding to herself, Solana takes a deep breath. Swapping the notebook in her lap for the phone on the nightstand, she navigates to the unheard voicemail from Dr. Michaels.

The one that’s sat there for three days now, Solana not feeling well enough to receive that answer.

But, not anymore.

It’s time.

Eyes closing for a second, her hand drops to her stomach as she finally hits the play button.

Almost instantly, a new, male voice fills the room.

“Hey Solana, it’s Dr. Michaels.” Her heartbeat is a mile a fucking minute, Solana having to take a deep breath to help herself calm down. “Got your test results back and looks like you and the Big Guy better start babyproofing that big ole’ house of yours.” And just like that, Solana smacks the pause button on the voicemail before doubling over, a sob leaving her mouth.

She knew it. Felt it. But, there’s something about hearing the confirmation. Knowing without a doubt that she’s pregnant that’s almost overwhelming. 

In the best possible way.

Sniffling, she smiles down and rubs her hand across her stomach.

She’s pregnant.

“Now, I don’t want to freak you out, but your hCG levels came back pretty high, which isn’t anything bad. At all. But, it can indicate a multiples pregnancy. Meaning you could be carrying twins, and if that’s the case……”

It’s difficult for Solana to continue to focus on the rest of his message, something about him reminding her that Dr. Sharmell is the go-to OB-GYN for Bloodline pregnancies, as well as a phone number she’d guess for this doctor. However, as appreciated as that is, it’s mostly in one ear and out the other, because all she can hone in on is one word.

Twins

Twins like the ones she’s had several, frequent, recurring dreams about over the past few months. Dropping her phone altogether, Solana places both hands on her stomach, somehow, someway already knowing that he’s right.

She is carrying twins.

Smiling, laughing faces that are the perfect combination of herself and Roman rushing to the front of her mind, deepening her smile, increasing her joy.

Her babies.

Overcome with happiness, Solana finds herself grabbing her current journal that was also sitting on the nightstand, trembling hands skipping to the end of the book that she’s damn near completed. Using the pen in the middle, Solana shares the news, officially, with the only person other than her husband who she would give anything to have to celebrate with right now.

Dear Mami,

I’m pregnant. 

With twins. 

I’m getting my happily ever after, after all.

Love,

Sol

She must reread it almost a dozen times, each reading widening her smile. It’s such a strange thing, how quickly emotions can oscillate. She’d traveled the feelings spectrum from one end to the other over the past week, but this stop…..this stop is one she’d be okay with staying at for a while. 

Solana grabs her phone again, fingers navigating to Roman’s contact. She’s not going to tell him. Not like this, but this avoidance game they’ve been playing needs to stop. A glance at the time as well as her pulling up the world clock reveals it’s almost midnight in Italy, but that doesn’t stop her from dialing the number regardless.

It’s time to talk to her husband.

Except, it’s not.

Because the phone goes straight to voicemail. 

Solana frowns. She can’t recall a time where Roman’s phone has ever been off. On Do Not Disturb, sure, but off?

Never.

Not since she’s been with him, at least.

The beeping on the other end alerts her to the fact that she can either leave a message or hang up. 

She decides on the former of the two options.

“Hey….” Clearing her throat, she does her best to keep her voice steady, a tricky task considering the life-changing news she’s sitting on. “I—I wanted to talk to you. I—I miss your voice. I miss you.” Swallowing, she smiles, wishing she could bask in this moment with him. “Call me back when you get a chance….I love you.”

Hanging up the phone, Solana scoffs, still slightly in a state of disbelief. Looking down at a still sleeping Dulce, a soft giggle leaves her mouth at thinking about how her fur baby is going to react to there being a real baby in the house.

Two.

Climbing off the bed, phone in one hand, Solana moves over to the dresser and grabs a change of clothes before heading to the attached master bathroom.

She’s done a lot of sulking while in her supposed happy place, engaged in a lot of avoidance behavior. 

No more.

She has a reason to smile, to be happy, to be excited. And she wants to lean into that.

Solana starts to make a mental list of things she wants to do before leaving in a couple days. The item at the top is to go see Paloma. She’s barely spoken to the older woman with kind eyes and a warm personality since first meeting her months prior.

It’s time to see her again. 

But, as much as she would like to focus on an agenda for the remainder of her trip, it’s difficult for her mind to not keep gravitating back toward the news.

To the thought of life growing inside her. 

Two lives formed from a beautiful though flawed love. Two individuals who have lost so much yet stand to gain so much more through the lives they’ve created together.

Solana knows Roman will be an amazing father. He’s been so good to her, so patient, so loving. Seeing that extended to their children just fills her with all of the butterflies.

They’ll definitely have to make some changes. She might have to cut back work hours. He could maybe work from home more, if that’s even a thing. No nanny. Roman probably wouldn’t trust anyone anyway.

And the guest room closest to them could easily be the shared nursery for both children. It only makes sense for the babies to be close to them, getting different, separate rooms as they get older.

Standing in the shower, continuing to go over any and all the details, there’s a small bit of sadness at not being able to share the news with her friends. She knows they’re all going to be so happy for her, and Solana knows they’ll plan the biggest, most elaborate baby shower that she’ll probably have to bribe Roman into attending.

All of it, even the maybe stressful things, keeps her smile on her face. 

It’s just been some time since she’s felt so happy. A well deserved thing following an almost week of anything but.

But, it’s as Solana steps out the shower, wraps the towel around her and checks her phone, her smile dims at her lock screen being littered with notifications.

1 missed call from Jey 

3 missed calls from Jimmy

4 unread texts from Jimmy

2 unread texts from Jey

And just like that, her stomach drops.

Something is wrong.

Given Jimmy is the one with the most outreach attempts, she bypasses reading any messages and just skips right to calling him.

Pacing across the bathroom, each ring on the other end feels like an eternity. Finally, he picks up. “Solana.”

“What’s wrong?” It’s blurted out, her desperation and fear loud and present. “What happened?”

A heavy sigh on the other end of the phone. “Solana…..”

“What happened, Jimmy!” She doesn’t mean to yell, but she does mean to stress that she needs this man to tell her just what the hell is going on.

Another pause. “Fetu took a turn for the worse.” Her heart stops. “She’s…..she’s probably not going to make it through the night.”

Of all the things to come out his mouth, Solana could have never guessed that would be it. She’s instantly in a brief state of shock. This can’t be……no, it can’t.

“What?” Is all she’s able to muster, leaning back against the counter, heart rate a mile a minute.

“I don’t….I don’t know all the details. Ava was too upset to talk, but—”

“Roman….” 

Jimmy blows out a deep breath. “He’s already on a plane here. He…..he was actually already on his way.” Solana’s frown deepens. “He wanted to surprise you.” And the knife just keeps twisting. “He knows and should land in a couple hours, but I don’t know if—”

“Don’t,” she cuts him off. Solana can’t even fathom the notion of what he’s about to say. It can’t…..no. “Don’t say it.”

“Solana….” She’s never heard Jimmy sound so despondent. “From the way Ava was talking, she doesn’t have a lot of t—”

“He’s gonna make it.” There is no other alternative. None that Solana can consider. At least, not in this state. Because she’s still trying to sit on the fact that Roman’s laughing, smiling, hoot of an aunt is now suddenly at death’s door. It doesn’t make any sense. They were supposed to go see her. Solana had already texted and talked with Ava about surprising Fetu with a visit when Roman returned. 

And now…..

“I’m on my way.”

She can practically picture Jimmy’s surprise. “Solana, I don’t—”

“I need you to meet me at the airport and take me there,” she continues. Because Solana has only been there once, she doesn’t know how to get to Fetu’s place. But, Jimmy does, and something tells her Roman will land back home before she does, and she doesn’t want him wasting a second waiting around for her so they can go together.

“Solana, you’ve never…..you’ve never been around Roman when he’s lost someone. I don’t—I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you—”

“I am not letting him deal with this alone,” she vows, anger replacing the fear. “Prepare the jet for me.”

“Solana—”

“I said I’m going!” She snaps. Solana is certain her shout bypasses the perimeter of the closed bathroom door, travels into her bedroom and permeates throughout the house. “If you don’t want to help me, that’s fine. I’ll find a way. I will fucking swim back home and walk my way there if that’s what it takes, because I am not letting him deal with this alone.” There’s absolute silence on the other end. “Now are you going to help me or not?”

Jimmy is quiet for a good minute before answering. “I’ll be there when you touch down.”

There’s a small slice of relief that fills her at his agreement, but it’s nothing to sit in given the weight of the situation. “I’ll see you then.” 

Hanging up the phone, Solana hurriedly applies her deodorant and slips on her bra and panties. Walking out the bathroom, she moves over to the dresser, pulling out some sweats and a shirt. Once her sneakers are on, she’s grabbing Dulce, apologizing for waking her up as she moves out the room and down the stairs.

She finds Bautista and Nia in the kitchen, not hesitating as she informs, “pack your stuff. We’re leaving.”

Their surprised, borderline confused expressions make all the sense, but it’s Nia who speaks up. “What do you mean we’re leaving?”

Solana ignores her, carrying Dulce to the backdoor and letting her out, keeping her eyes on her puppy as she finds the patch of grass to relieve herself. 

Nia, of course, refuses to let it go, pushing her at a time where Solana is already trying not to sink into panic. “Look, you have been an impulsive mess all week. Randomly making us fly out here and now you’re making us randomly fly back. What the he—”

“Would you shut up!” It’s similar to the way she snapped at Jimmy, but angrier. More personal. “I don’t answer to you, Nia. I said we’re leaving, so we’re fucking leaving!”

And at that moment, Dulce hurries herself back inside, Solana slamming and shutting the door as she storms past a bewildered Nia to go back upstairs and finish packing.

Shaking hands, quiet sniffles, and silent tears accompany her preparation. She tried to call Roman again, only for the phone to once again go to voicemail, further worrying her.

He’s been pushing her away all week, but this…..this feels different. 

He’s icing her out, and it hurts, but not for her. She hurts for him, because he was already in a not good place before leaving. And now this?

“Please don’t take her from him…..” Solana finds herself pleading, praying for the first time in a long time. “He can’t…..he can’t lose her.”

Because he can’t. 

Because Solana can’t even imagine what losing Fetu would do to Roman. She isn’t sure how he’d handle it. 

If he could handle it. 

Less than twenty minutes later, Solana and Co. are out of the house and on their way to the airport. Dulce, forever perceptive, remains in her lap, every so often licking her arm and whining, cuddling close to Solana.

To her stomach. 

It’s appreciated. 

Necessary.

Because Solana is a nervous, emotional wreck sitting on the jet, Bautista and Nia wisely keeping their distance, leaving her alone in the bedroom with Dulce close by her side.

Solana tries to call both Roman and Ava one last time before takeoff. Neither answers.

It’s not unexpected, but it does make that despair lingering in the pit of her stomach grow.

Makes Solana think back on the letter she has tucked and hidden away at home. Makes her reflect on that almost ominous interaction with his aunt. 

Fetu shakes her head, Solana looking down when she places a white, sealed envelope in her hand. “I need you to give this to him when the time is right.”

Those words now haunt her, cause her to wonder just what is contained within that letter. If….if it was intended for a time like this.

A time where she’s no longer around.

Solana shakes her head, a sob breaking through as she tries to gather herself. She’s an emotional mess, yes, pregnancy hormones probably not helping, but regardless, she can’t be.

She needs to be strong. 

For Roman.

It’s what she keeps telling herself, reminding herself of as she’s forced to utilize some of her coping skills to settle her anxiety. Because it’s not just her she has to think about anymore.

It’s her babies, too.

Solana is nearly running out the jet the minute it lands and they’re clear to exit. She leaves Dulce with Nia, instructing her to take her back home.

Nia doesn’t argue with this.

But, the minute she steps foot out of the jet, her feet on ground, her eyes locked with Jimmy who waits near a black SUV…..she knows.

She just knows.

Solana’s hand goes to her stomach. “No……” Jimmy’s eyes shut as he runs his hand over his face, unshed tears glistening once he reopens his eyes and looks over at her. “Please, no…..”

“Solana….” 

Her voice breaks. “Don’t say it.”

But, he does. He absolutely says it. “She’s gone, Solana.”

She knew it. Knew it the moment her eyes locked with his that are filled with such tremendous grief, holding a truth she’d give anything to be anything but. But, on top of the grief that now fills her body the same way it fills Jimmy, there’s an entirely different layer that nearly grounds her when that realization settles. 

“Roman.” She’s almost scared to ask, but she has to. She just has to. “Did he….”

And it’s the way Jimmy’s sadness deepens as he shakes his head no that Solana’s already wavering resolve crumbles, that she breaks down in front of her husband’s cousin. Jimmy moves over to her, letting her cry into him at the second horrifying realization bulldozes into her with the weight of solid concrete.

Roman didn’t make it in time.

He didn’t get to see Fetu before she passed.

He didn’t get to say goodbye.

[jjangwonie]

DOUBLE LIFE

DOUBLE LIFE MASTERLIST

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ summary: With your anonymous Twitter account, you've acquired a pretty good following and popularity, throughout your school as well. Jake, your long-time crush, is one of them, head over heels. Yet when you once confessed to him, he had rejected your confession, saying that he already has his eye on someone else. What happens when he finds out that his online crush is the person that he rejected? And... How are you going to deal with this?

jjangwonie note: FINALLYYYY

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ word count: ~2k

THIRTY TWO - DEFEAT

warnings: angsty, a lot of arguing, poor Riki being a bit harsh :( (I am sorry bby ily), confrontation, crying, yelling, lmk if I missed anything!

"Heeseung-hyung, you better not throw this time," Jake warned playfully. "I saw those stats from yesterday." One by one, all the boys joined the call, ready to start their gaming session.

"Ey, I was testing something," Heeseung defended himself, followed by collective snickers from the others.

But there was an edge to Riki's gameplay today - aggressive pushes, risky peaks, dying early in rounds.

"Riki, what are you doing?" Jake questioned after another failed push. "You're rushing in all alone."

"Maybe if you entered faster instead of backseat gaming," Riki shot back, his tone sharper than usual.

Sunghoon let out a low whistle. "Someone's feisty today," He said, making the rest chuckle. "Probably hungry," Jay joked, trying to ease the tension. "Remember when-"

"Speaking of hungry," Sunghoon interrupted, groaning. "Y/n had ordered a whole feast of takeaway food earlier. Period cravings are no joke."

Jake chuckled. "Oh yeah, how is she? Is she hurting a lot?"

"I don't know, she seemed happy with her food," Sunghoon replied. "She did bring me a big box of chicken."

"Aw, that is so sweet of her man," Jake said fondly, fast typing on the mechanical keyboard in the background coming to a halt for just a second.

Something in Riki's character movement stilled for a moment. His jaw clenched, it was as if he could hear the growing smile on Jake's face through his words. It ticked him off.

"Yeah, so nice. She's a real angel, don't you think?" Riki muttered sarcastically, but it obviously got picked up by his mic.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jake asked, confusion evident in his voice.

"Oh, nothing," Riki's character aggressively peaked another corner. "Just funny how you're acting all friendly with y/n lately."

"Uh guys, can we just play? I'm trying to rank up here." Heeseung's request was ignored.

The call went quiet except for the game sounds. Jake's character stopped moving.

"Okay. What is your problem lately?" Jake's voice had an edge to it now. "Ever since the match you've been-"

"My problem?" Riki interrupted. "y/n this, y/n that. So you got stood up by your online friend and you hop on to the next person like it's nothing? What, is it because she reminds you of her?"

"Guys?" Heeseung started.

"No, let him finish," Jake's voice was dangerously quiet. "What exactly are you trying to say?" But it stayed silent.

He scoffed. "Riki, I don't know what your problem is right now. I know she is your best friend but that doesn't give you some kind of claim on who she hangs out with-"

"No, but at least I am not the one crushing on her while still pining over her online account." Riki's voice beamed through the call.

The silence that followed was deafening. Heeseung's sharp intake of breath was audible. Sunghoon and Jay's confused "What?" overlapped each other.

"...What are you talking about?" Jake's voice sounded a little hesitant, more soft. As if he didn't want to get a grasp on what was being said right now.

"Don't act so dense, it doesn't take a genius to see that they're the same freaking person." Riki retorts back, agitation evident in his tone, all reason has flown out the window, too late for him to think about what he said.

Jake's character hasn't moved for a long time, nor had the other ones. "So you're saying she's..." The mutters are heard between Sunghoon and Jay's confusion. Between the words flying into each other about the game or the other, Jake's next words stop everyone from talking.

"I... I need to go," Jake's voice was strange, strained. The disconnect sound followed immediately.

"Riki-" Heeseung started, but another disconnect sound cut him off. Riki was gone too.

The remaining three sat in stunned silence, the game completely forgotten as "DEFEAT" flashed across their screens.

"Someone want to explain what the hell just happened?" Sunghoon's voice broke through the silence.

"Uh, the Twitter account Jake's been obsessing over for months?" Heeseung finally spoke, his voice uncharacteristically serious. Reluctantly, he continued. "That's, uh... It's y/n."

The Discord call had gone quiet, save for the sound of aggressive typing. Sunghoon's frustrated growl broke the silence.

"I can't find anything," he muttered, refreshing the page again. "I am not gonna even ask how you know. Heeseung hyung, show me."

Heeseung's hesitation was audible. "Listen, maybe we should-"

"Screen share. Now."

The gentle ping of Heeseung's stream starting filled the call. As he navigated to the profile, Sunghoon's expression grew increasingly tense. Photos of familiar places, glimpses of outfits he recognized, captions that were unmistakably his sister's voice - all accumulated over months without his knowledge. "I am going to talk to my sister. See you guys."

You've ignored the past knocks of Sunghoon, headphones blasting music as you lay on your side, rereading the texts of not long ago.

After you ignored your brother's following incoming texts now, Sunghoon stood outside your door again, his knuckles white against the doorframe. The sounds of sniffling from inside only strengthened his resolve. "Open the door," he repeated, firmer this time.

You swing off the blanket and stomp across the room. The door swung open abruptly. "What?" your voice came out sharp, but Sunghoon didn't miss how you instantly took a step back, arms wrapped around yourself in a self-soothing manner and your eyes were slightly red-rimmed.

"We need to talk about this account," Sunghoon started, stepping into your room with no hesitation. "Do you have any idea how dangerous-"

"I'm not a freaking child, Sunghoon," you cut him off, arms crossed tighter, like armour. But your voice wavered slightly, betraying the confidence you were trying to project.

"Clearly you are, if you think posting yourself online like this is okay-" He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, pacing the small space between your bed and desk.

"I never showed my face! I'm not stupid!" Your voice rose defensively, but there was a tremor in it now. You backed up until your legs hit the edge of the bed, throwing your head back in frustration.

"That's not the point!" Sunghoon's voice rose to match yours, worry manifesting as anger as he paced mindlessly. "Anyone could-"

You quickly stood up. "I can do whatever I want!" you shot back, hands clenched at your sides. Your whole body was tense, like a string pulled too tight. "I don't need your permission to-"

"You need to think about-"

"I know, okay?" The string snapped. Your voice cracked, words suddenly tumbling out like a dam breaking.

"I know it was stupid, and I know I messed up, and now Jake won't even-" your breathing became erratic, shoulders shaking and your hand flying through your hair. "He texted me saying he needs space and I just-" Your voice hitched, fresh tears spilling over.

That broken sigh broke Sunghoon's eyes from the wall, looking directly at you. You seem so lost, and his shoulders drop, as does his heart.

"I fucked everything up. Now, he probably hates me and-" The last words dissolved into a sob that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside you.

Sunghoon felt all his anger drain away at the sight of his little sister breaking down. Without hesitation, he crossed the room and guided you to sit on the bed. You didn't resist when he pulled you close, one arm around your shoulders. Your body shook with sobs that you tried to muffle in your sleeve.

The room fell quiet except for your soft crying, the angry words from moments ago hanging heavy in the air.

Sunghoon rubbed slow circles on your back, the way he used to when you were little and had nightmares. He felt you gradually lean into him more, and he was thinking about how this isn't just about you having some secret account.

No, this is his little sister actually being hurt about something. That something that involves his best friend having pined on her for months and not knowing about it, yes, and it involves feelings from his best friend towards his little sister and it is messy indeed. But right now, it's you, the focus is on you, and you're hurt.

He sushed you, his chin leaning on your head as he continued rubbing your back. That little secret account was nothing but a pebble compared to the boulder of seeing you hurt and vulnerable, crushing his heart.

Several minutes passed before Sunghoon spoke again, his voice gentle now, all traces of anger gone. "So... you actually like him?"

"...Yeah, maybe..." you mumbled into your sleeve, not meeting his eyes, your voice raw from crying.

"Maybe?" His tone was knowing, gentle in a way that made you look up with your lower lip trembling, and all you see is a concerned him with a knowing glint in his eyes.

You turned to bury your face in his shoulder, fingers clutching his shirt. "I do," you groaned out, the words muffled against his shoulder but clear. "I really do."

After your tearful confession, Sunghoon fell quiet for a moment, still holding you close as you sniffled into his shoulder. Then he let out a small laugh, making you pull back slightly to look at him in confusion.

"You know what's kind of funny?" he started, his voice thoughtful. "All those times Jake wouldn't shut up about this mysterious Twitter girl." You tensed slightly. "God, he was insufferable. Especially when you- well, when she- started responding to his messages."

You wiped at your eyes with your sleeve. "What do you mean?"

"I've never seen him like that before," Sunghoon shook his head, a hint of amusement in his voice. "He'd burst into class with this stupid grin, shoving his phone in our faces. 'Look what she said!' 'Guys, she's so funny!' 'Do you think she'd like this?'" He mimicked Jake's excited tone, earning a watery laugh from you. "Really?"

"Oh yeah. When you agreed to meet him at the festival..." Sunghoon trailed off, feeling you stiffen again, so he caressed your head while continuing.

"He was practically bouncing off the walls for days. Wouldn't stop talking about how he was finally going to meet his 'angel.'" He paused, glancing down at you. "Though I guess he kind of already had."

You pulled away slightly, hugging your knees to your chest. "That's different. He likes the Twitter girl, not... not me."

"But you are her, y/n," Sunghoon pointed out gently. "And from what I've seen lately..." He hesitated, wondering if he should share this.

"The way he looked at you when you two were hanging at the festival? Trust me, it's the same look he got whenever he talked about his Twitter girl."

"But now he knows, and he's upset, and-"

"He's probably just as confused as you are," Sunghoon interrupted. "I mean, finding out the girl you've been crushing on online is actually your best friend's little sister who you've also been getting closer to?" He nudged your shoulder.

"Give him some time to process. Jake's... well, he's Jake. Sometimes things take a while to click."

You let out a mix between a laugh and a sob. "When did you get so wise about relationships?"

"Hey, I'm your big brother. It's my job to be wise," he grinned, before his face grew more serious. "Even if I'm still not happy about this whole secret Twitter thing."

"I know," you mumbled. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"We'll talk about that later," he sighed, squeezing your arm before standing up. "Right now, I think the little monster needs ice cream more than you need a lecture."

"You can't call me that-" your protesting got cut off because of a pillow hitting your face. "It's been enough time, you shit. I checked."

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[keitorin3]

Short: Leon (The Long Suffering)

Arthur: I'm gonna mess with this goofy eared kid.

Leon: *Internally thinking* Why do I feel like Arthur just met his match??

Arthur: He's absolutely terrible, the worst Manservant I've ever seen!

Leon: I'm sure with time he will improve, Sire. It's only been the first week.

Arthur: I've already sacked him, but then changed my mind and re-hired him back.

Leon: Ah... I see... Why?

Arthur:... *Internally thinking* Because I liked the way he looked at me when I won.

Arthur: It was difficult to find good help nowadays.

Leon: Right...

Arthur: Can you believe it, Merlin went and accused himself of being a sorcerer! In front of my father during the council meeting!

Leon: He what?! 😨

Arthur: I know! All because a girl gave him a flower. That idiot. I don't know where his head is at.

Leon: Hold on a second sire, he really said that in front of the King and didn't get executed?? 😧

Arthur: *Waves it off* Yeah, I had to explain that it was cause he had a crush on Gwen. *Mutters to himself* Maybe I should get him some flowers? 🤔

Leon: !? ⁉️❕❔

Arthur: My idiot Manservant got sick and I got him flowers so he'd feel better. 💐

Leon: Arthur, he drank poison for you and you went off to find the antidote. 😑

Arthur: So you think he liked it?

Leon: ... *Takes a deep breath* I'm sure he did Sire.

Arthur: 😁 See! I take care of my servants~

Arthur: *Breaks into Leon's room*

Leon: *Jumps in fright* ⁉️

Arthur: I can't believe him!

Leon: What is it? Is there an attack Sire? Something happened with the King?

Arthur: No! It's that insolent brat Merlin. He came back with some guy, singing him praises and wants me to make him a knight?!😤

Leon: *Thinking* Is this really worth barging into my chambers? 😮‍💨

Leon: Really, then what did you do? 😑

Arthur: Ha, had the guy cleaning the stables.

Leon: 🤦🏼‍♂️

Leon: *Watches as Arthur sits with goofy smile and practically hearts in his eyes*

Leon: Sire?

Arthur: Isn't it the loveliest day to go out for a picnic? 🥰

Leon: Yes Sire, it is indeed.

Arthur: *Nods* I had Merlin pack a picnic for me and the lady Sofia. Where gonna go later today.

Leon: *Confused and concerned* But don't you have a meeting with the King today?

Arthur: *Waves it off* It's fine, I have Merlin to cover for me!

Leon: *Thinking* Oh boy...

[LATER]

Merlin: *Coming back from the stocks* I'm gonna kill that cabbagehead! 😠💢

Arthur: *Walks in* Merlin~! 🥰💐🌈

Merlin: 🌩️🔪😠

Leon: *Makes a break for it*

Leon: *Walks by Morgana's room*

Morgana: Please Arthur he just a boy and he's sick! 🥺

Arthur: I'm sorry Morgana, but my father is looking for him and if he were to find out you harboured a druid, you'll not only get into trouble but so would Gwen and Merlin.

Morgana: *Angry* 😠

Merlin: *Steps in* Please Arthur, we can't let the King kill him. 🥺

Arthur: ... *Turns away* I saw nothing, heard nothing. I've got to look for the Druid boy because clearly he isn't here. *Leaves room without noticing Leon*

Morgana: Tsk, of course he'd listen to Merlin.

Gwen: *Giggles*

Merlin: Arthur has a good heart. Of course he'd help. *The face of loyalty and innocence*

Morgana: 😏 He followed his heart alright. I'll remember next time to have you around to convince him for some things.

Merlin: 🤨❔❔ What do you mean?

Leon: *Overhears and follows his princes lead and continues like nothing happened*

Leon: *Witnessed Merlin doing Sorcery, trying to burn the Black Knight and fails*

Leon: ... I saw nothing. Just tired eyes. Yup, nothing here. *Mutters* Not like Arthur would believe it, or even care.

Uther: Where is my son and ward?! 😠

Leon: They've decided on a friendly hunting trip, they'll be gone for several days.

Leon: *Internally* They went after Merlin to his home village to fight bandits alone. And I'm not gonna say anything because

1. You'll blame Merlin and send him away

2. Merlin's a sorcerer who you'll kill if you knew

3. If any of the above happens Arthur might likely kill you and that'll be a worse headache then his pinning.

Uther: Those brats!

Leon: *Thinking* I couldn't agree more.

[LATER]

Arthur: If I ever retire from royalty, I think I'd like to live as a farmer.

Leon: Ah, is that so?

Arthur: Yup. Of course, Merlin would be there to do the work.

Leon: 😓

Arthur: But I'll get him Cows and chickens, maybe even a horse. He has a soft spot for animals.

Arthur: Merlin's mad at me. He started talking politely to me Leon! Politely. As in using my titles instead of insults. Even avoids looking at me in the eyes. 😟

Leon: 😬 Oof, what did you do?

Arthur: He's angry at me after killing the Unicorn. 😟

Leon: ... That would do it.

Arthur: What do I do Leon!

Leon: Try giving him some space for now and maybe flowers, you've said Merlin likes those.

Arthur: Alright!

[LATER]

Arthur: Merlin's not avoiding me anymore. 😊

Leon: Great to hear, what happened?

Arthur: We faced off the sorcerer of the Unicorns and I drank fake poison before Merlin could.

Leon: ... What?! 😱

Arthur: It's fine. Merlin's still mad about that but now he insults me about my intellect being the size of a peanut. ☺️🌈✨

Leon: I'm almost inclined to agree with him Sire.

Leon: *Spots Merlin and follows him to the Isles*

Nimueh: For a life to be saved, another life must be forfeited.

Merlin: He's my friend. I'd gladly give my life for him.

Leon: *Thinking* God these two are cut by the same cloth. I'm gonna go fully grey by 30.

[LATER]

Arthur: 🥰 Merlin said the most weirdest thing. He said he'd serve me for the rest of his life. That he was happy to be with me. ❤️🥰

Leon: *Bore witness to Merlins power and dedication to his loved ones*

Leon: He cares for you Sire. Would hardly leave your side if he didn't need to help Gaius make your cure.

Arthur: ☺️ Don't tell Merlin this, but I think Merlin's my best friend.

Leon: *Internally swears on his honor as a knight to support Merlin however he could and potentially get his prince to be less of an idiot. Hopefully*

Merlin: *Sneezes*

Gaius: You alright my boy?

Merlin: *Sniffs and shurgs* I'm alright.

Gaius: Hmm, some say that when you sneezing abruptly, it's because someone is talking about you at the moment.

Merlin: Ugh, probably Arthur talking about all the chores he has in stored for me. 😮‍💨

[verypeanutgarden]

Bakugou Katsuki would be the type to be a hopeless romantic, but would never realize your crush on him. Even if you smack him in the face with it. Now we are here in 1A classroom...

•••••••

Bakugou would never admit it, even if it will cause him is life. That the books hidden under his bed, are romance novels. From Jane Austen to Nora Roberts. He may be a hopelessly romantic nerd but he is one that can up anyone. But the moment you came into view the very first day of school, that whole dynamic went away. He became calmer, to the point Midoriya had thought he died that day.

"Hey, bakugou?" The sound of your voice caught his attention. Pulled him right out of his day dream, he turned towards your direction. A simple nod to say keep taking.

"I was thinking maybe we could start the assignment Mr. Aizawa gave? So that we can be done by tomorrow." You continued happily. Oh how he wants to listen to your voice everyday, he thought. But he just ended up turning away and giving a nod. Which to be honest was more than what people get now-a-days.

"Okay! We can work...at your room? So it's more comfortable for you" You suggest, Bakugou being slow nodded and agreed but really. He was just spacing out and staring at you, but of course he will never admit that. So he didn't know what he agreed too.

As the day is about to end, the majority of the class headed towards the dorm to rest up and start the day all over again tomorrow. Of course the brooding Bakugou, went to the training room instead of going with the rest. Completely forgetting he was supposed to meet with you...around 6pm he started to head to the dorm. The dorm still had lights on and everyone was just finishing with dinner, Bakugou had set his back down and grabbed what seemed to be curry but ended up looking like death. So he visibly passed and up the opted for the left over fish from this morning. Finishing the dinner he heads upstairs to shower.

Before he headed to the shower he simply texted Kirishima if he would like to hang out, but not bothering to try to see Kirishima's reply. Simply throwing his phone on the bed and heading to the shower in his room.

The steam leaves the bathroom as Bakugou steps out, as he goes to reach for his phone. A knock on the door with the towel around his waist way lower than it needs to be, he pauses and assumes it's Kirishima. As he reaches for the door saying, "Took you long enough-"

Bakugou stops dead in his sentence, realizing it is not Kirishima he was talking to but you. With only a towel covering himself.

So at that moment Bakugou learned his lesson to pay attention.

"Um...I see you didn't expect me...uh-" You reply awkwardly. Before you could even form a sentence the door simply closed in your face and you were left in the hallway stunned. As you paused for a minute and raised your hand to knock on the door, before you even touched the door it swings open to a fully dressed Bakugou.

"What do you want?" He asked in a hurry. You tilt your head to the side confused.

"I'm here for the assignment I asked you about awhile ago?" You replied with your eyes trailing to his chest because god knows even with a hoodie you can still see all the muscles. Stopping yourself, you fidget with your fingers.

Bakugou ends up clueless as to what you mean, then in clicked. The hero intern assignment that Aizawa assigned, and since you were also under Best Jeanist. You two were assigned to be partners in the assignment.

"Yea." He said as he opens the door wider and gestures you to come in.

Hes room was surprisingly the most neat you have ever seen. It looked like a five star hotel, and coming for a man? Who is not in his 30s is a weird feeling. As you stand in the middle of the room the sound of the door closing too you out of day dreaming. You feel bakugou walking up behind you, and pass you. He then gestures to you to sit at the bed.

"So...where do you want to start?" You started.

He blinked once, then twice. He then replied, "We can start with the problems." Scratching the back of his neck as a form of habit when nervous. But hes not going to tell you that. With the sound of the air conditioning filling the silence, you drop the notebooks you were holding and opened to the page needed for the assignment. You handed him the page and asked which he would like to do.

An hour later, he sat on the floor in front of his bed with his back turned to you while u layed on your stomach facing the back of his head. You would be lying to yourself if you said you were definitely NOT looking at how his shoulders were flexing at every small movement, or how his breathing is steady but every now and then he takes that deep breath and exhale, or how his back is a testimony to his dedication to his workout and body, or how his hair-

"Y/n?" He asked. Cutting you off your train of thought. He had finish his assignment and he had wanted to given to you, as you went and grabbed the paper you pen fell out of the bed and rolled at the bottom of his bed. You moved closer and tried to grab what fell below, only to be stopped by a hand on you wrist.

"Don't." He said firmly. "Why? Im just getting my pen" You replied. He said nothing only to reach down and grab the pencil that rolled and hand it to you. Being as curious as you are you asked him, "What is under here?" You asked and he stayed quiet. It was a surprise he hasn't kicked you out of his room.

Of course you knew you had limits with bakugou, and you knew not to ask again. But you just couldn't help yourself.

You kept asking him for the remainder of the hour you spent in him room to finish the assignment.

"Bakugou...come on, if its dolls I wouldn't tell." You teased him. He practically snap his head at you and just turned his head to his notebook. After which you still kept bothering him until, he snapped and he turned his face towards you. Only a few inches apart, this was unlike him. Because by now he would have kicked you out.

"Shut it y/n, or I will make you shut up." He said almost like a whisper. Hes eyes grew wide, and he turned his head he was about to apologize until you suddenly said,

"Really? Shut me up then, bet you can't..." You replied. You knew not to bite back but, you got petty.

Bakugou's pupils exploded, no one would talk back to him before. Now you, the beautiful you is challenging his patience. He knew he liked you the moment he heard you talk back to mineta. He knew he liked you the moment he saw how you were when you fought. Good enough to beat anyone that comes your way, and he liked that you challenge him. He smirked at you only to shut you up with him holding your wrist and pulling you closer.

"Anything to say big shot?" He replied. You couldn't say a word, "Thought so." He said cockyly but before he could say another word.

The door opens, and poor Kirishima paused and knew he was going to die that night. As Bakugou turns hes head to the door, you could hear the explosion popping off his hands...wait why is there a popping sound?

Before you knew it poor kirishima was running away before the explosion would go off from Bakugou's hand.

All that happened after was a blur because here you are now, a pro hero. In a relationship with the soon to be top one hero Dynamight...well soon to be engaged that is. He just picked up the ring and hes on his way home...

[experimentalmadness]

The Last of Regret

A little Emmrich/Rook fluff near the end of the game. I thought a certain moment could have used some more power so I gave it a go. We do love seeing a slightly more disheveled and panicked Emmrich, after all.

I'm being a bit vague on details because it contains massive endgame spoilers if you haven't finished the game. Suffice to say. If you want some good Emmrich and Rook hurt/comfort and angsty fluff, I've got what you need.

There was no air here. 

No sound. Not even the whisper of wind. 

All color had lost its saturation. 

There was no warmth, nor was it cold. And still Sivan shivered, hugging herself. This was not like the rest of the Fade. And this was all there was. All that there was ever going to be. Forever. One long endless looping staircase with only the dead for company. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, eyes closed. She couldn’t feel if she was crying. Her heart hurt, but all sensation had lost its bite. She wished she could cry. Or scream. How long had she been walking in circles?

Varric told her she had to let go. She had to accept what had happened, but how could she when this was all her fault? She should have stopped Varric from confronting Solas, she should never have sent Harding out with such a small team, and Bellara….she hadn’t been fast enough. She should have caught her, should have chopped off the blight tendril before it had snatched her away. 

Too late now. She was just some stupid city elf up against literal gods. Why did she think she could win? She was never good for anything. She’d failed Varric, failed her own city, failed…oh no. No, she couldn’t think of Emmrich. Not now. If she thought about him she’d sink to the ground and never get up again. 

C’mon kid, what did I just say?

”It’s too hard!” She cried. “I’m not ready!”

No one’s ever ready, but you can’t stay here. 

Varric wasn’t really here. It was only in her head. All of it had only ever been in her head. Stupid, stupid; should have known Solas would play tricks on her. Should have seen it coming. But the part of her that could hear Varric knew he was right. She couldn’t stay here. Even if she couldn’t defeat the gods she couldn’t fade away in this prison. A clean death, a good death in a fight, that was the way to go. Not disappearing like this. 

As if tugging her boots through swamp mud, Sivan made herself climb the endless looping stairs. She did not look up. It would be Harding’s face again, Varric’s, Bellara’s, even her own parents’ and she couldn’t face them. Couldn’t let them see her like this. Failure, worthless, mistake…

I thought I felt it over here!

The sound was far away. “Lucanis?” Just another memory, another lie. 

It’s faint, but he’s definitely on to something.

”Neve?”

Sivan stopped, looking around. But the expanse was as gray and devoid of life as ever. Maybe that was all there was. Echoes. But her heart stirred. 

The Fade is distinctly thin here.

”Emmrich?!” There was no mistaking it that time. She had heard his voice. Bright, with his usual encouragement, but with a note of unmistakable panic that sent her running up the rapidly forming fade-steps. “Emmrich!” 

Did you hear that?

That was Davrin! She could hear them! It wasn’t just the hollow sorrow eating her alive. 

The Fade shimmered ahead and Sivan felt air in her lungs for the first time. A sheen of white glinted against the gray. Just like the small Fade tears she had seen so many times before. There was hope here, fragile and wild and oh it was so good to feel something, anything outside of the crushing regret. 

She went running into the white tear and the solid arms that caught her. 

I’ve got her!

We’ve all got her. Pull!

Sivan spilled out into the bright light. Her heartbeat resumed in her ears, the blood in her veins moved again, and she could feel. Everything. The colors of the Lighthouse almost made her shield her eyes. Her lungs felt as if they would burst. 

But she was out. 

On the crumbling courtyard stones. 

And she was certain she was alive. 

“Rook!” Davrin laughed in astonishment and it was such a good sound, such a pure sound. 

It was then she realized the arms around her had not let her go, but were in fact squeezing ever tighter. “Darling, my darling…”

Sivan wrapped her still nerveless arms as tight as she could around Emmrich. He was real. Her hands went over the back of his coat, up to his jaw, her fingers skimming through his gray hair. He was here. She kissed him even though she knew how particular he was when it came to public displays of affection. She didn’t care. She had to feel him, had to make sure this wasn’t another one of Solas’ endless tricks. 

He returned her kiss with such fervor she was grateful she was already kneeling on the cobblestones. Her eyes spilled over with tears. He crushed her to him as if needed to check if she was as much a reality as she herself doubted. She didn’t care if she couldn’t breathe. 

“Think we could give ‘em some fucking privacy?” Sivan could have laughed at Taash’s words but her mind was far too jumbled. Everything was so bright, so loud, so solid. 

But Emmrich was all warmth and safety and familiarity. Already he pressed light kisses against her cheeks, the tip of her nose, under each eyelid, and with each she felt a little more real. “Extraordinary as ever, dearest,” he said softly. “Only you could return from the very Void itself.” 

“A prison,” she gasped, trying to order her thoughts. How to even begin to explain? “For the gods. Solas…he…”

”Breathe,” Emmrich commanded gently, a hand on either side of her face. “Slowly.”

His dark eyes were welcoming, guiding—was he crying? She flailed in a poor attempt to reach out for him again, but he held her still. His chest rose and fell in a deep rhythm that she felt compelled to mimic. The tightness in her lungs eased in pieces. Emmrich brushed the curls from her eyes and when she felt less like she was choking she let herself relax against him, tucking her head under his chin. 

“Darling, should I take us inside? You would be far more comfortable if—“

”No,” Sivan said against his coat, burrowing as deeply as she could, curling around herself. “Stay. Please.”

”But you’re shivering.”

”No’m not.” Her teeth chattered. 

“Rook, it is a delight to have you contradict me again, even though I admit I have no desire to let you go as yet,” Emmrich said with a laugh that sounded so tired, so grateful. “I thought that I might not…that—to have the last things we said to one another be that horrid argument…”

Sivan reached up and placed a tentative finger against his lips. “Love you too much to care about that.”

“What?” 

Her dear man looked so shocked. And how Sivan adored those looks of bewilderment when she would sneak in a compliment here and there. His tear-stained eyes went wide. “Was scared to say that before, too,” she admitted. “Everyone I ever loved, they’ve…”

It was his turn now to stop her thoughts from spirling. The blanket void of regret was going to be hard to shake, Sivan realized with a pang. 

Emmrich hushed her, his fingertips skating down her cheek. She knew when he was studying her. His deep look of intent and awe stilled some of her shivering. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said it so suddenly. Stupid! She should have planned it out better. Made some sort of occasion out of it as he no doubt would have.

“Say it again, dearest. Please.”

His faint, pleading voice undid the last string of regret tied about her heart. Sivan smiled. “I love you.”

Emmrich swallowed up her words with a kiss that nearly knocked her backwards. Heat pooled within her as she tried to match him. This, oh this was never something she would ever take for granted. The sterile edges of what that prison had done to her sloughed off. 

“To think you lost only to hear you say that,” Emmrich said as Sivan rubbed her forehead to his, taking comfort in simply sharing the same breath. “You truly are indomitable, Rook. One of the many reasons I love you, too.”

Her face hurt from smiling. When was the last time she’d heard those words? When was the last time anyone had ever loved her? Ghosts now, all ghosts, but Emmrich was here. Alive. And wholly hers. 

“I think I can stand now,” she said. Her body was still shaking, but from something other than grief. 

“Then I will help you up, my love.”

[girlsneedff]

NSFW! Minors and Ageless blogs DNI!

Sukuna x f!Reader, fwbs, best friends, Sukuna's a dick, angst, unrequited love, mentions of sex

Word count: 1k

Author's yap: This is the start of the "NOT Over It" series! Should I have started with Over It first? Possibly. But this is my writing project, and I'm gonna do what I want <3

Fun Girl

And now you’re stuck here feeling shitty. And stupid. All because you decided to fall for your guy best friend. Who you know is a dick. You thought maybe, just maybe, that you would have the chance to get with him- to be in a real relationship with him besides the friends-with-benefits relationship that you have while he’s in between girlfriends, and you’re not distracting yourself with flings and short relationships. You thought that because he’s kept you around, you were different. News flash to you: you’re not. And now you’re wishing that you’d never even asked him about that possibility. 

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

The two of you were sitting in his car, coming back from the movies. He wanted to see some random action movie, and you would follow him to the ends of the Earth, so of course you went with him. You’re sitting in the parking lot of the movie theater in comfortable silence, both of you just scrolling through your phones, not really ready to return home yet. 

“You know the girl that I was talking to?”

Oh great. You rolled your eyes, shifting to rest your head on the closed window as you responded, while you continued to scroll through your phone. Trying hard to not show him how much hearing about his prospects bothered you.

“Which one?”

“I’m ghosting her. She’s hot, but talking to her is boring. I’d rather shit in my hands and clap.”

“Ryo you’re a dick.”

“A 10-inch one.”

“It’s smaller than that.”

He hits your leg in response. You shrug, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. His body is facing you, his arm resting on the steering wheel. 

“What?”

“You think I'll end up alone?"

Your heart jumps a bit, taking this opportunity to subtly hint at something. Who knows, maybe it would work?

You scoff. “Well at this point, the only girl you’re gonna end up with is me.” You say, trying to sound absent-minded. Sukuna doesn’t even let that sentence, that possibility, hang in the air for a moment before he shoots it down.

“You know there’s no way in hell that’s happening, right?”

You could practically hear your heart cracking, feeling it crumpling in on itself. 

“Jesus, I was just saying.” You say quickly, trying to collect all of the shards of your heart before the hole is too big. Maybe you can glue it back together. He’s harsh- you know this. Don’t let it get to you.

“I’m not saying we’d be in a relationship or anything-”

“Oh yea fuck no. Sorry,” he says, in a way that you just throw the pieces you’ve collected up in the air, damning them all to hell, because you know that whatever he says is going to be devastating as he continues, “but I’d never date you. Ever. You’re not what I’m into.”

You were stunned. Looking back, you don’t know why you were stunned. You know this man. Certified womanizer, number 1 hoe. He’s noncommittal, selfish, rude, arrogant, abrasive. You knew this. So why were you so shocked?

“Oh, so I’m cool to sleep with, but not for a relationship?” You can feel your throat closing up, but you refuse to let him see you get emotional over this.

“We… have fun.”

“Fun?”

“You can’t tell me that you don’t have fun when we fuck.” He looks straight out the windshield, this conversation unconcerning to him.

You guys fuck?

It’s such a harsh way to put it. You hoped he would be softer about it- maybe salvage your feelings. You’re his best friend, for fuck’s sake. His kisses would be so tender as he slowly pushed into you, like he was taking care to not split you apart. The slow fucking and reassurance, the words of encouragement. Though it never lasted long before he’s thrusting into you like he hates you (which now, you’re wondering- does he?), you thought that those first moments were the most important. That they were his true feelings. Dumbass.

“I’m not your type, but you fuck me. How does that make sense?” You finally turn to look at him, your anger and tears combating each other to see which one holds out the longest. Your anger is winning, thankfully.

“Please don’t tell me you’re getting in your feelings about this.” He’s fucking smiling. Rolling his eyes, as if you’re getting worked up over something simple. Because to him it is simple. Sex is simple to him. He gets his rocks off fucking the shit out of anything that moves, and then he moves on.

“I don’t want to know about all of the guys that my girl’s been with. It’s emasculating.” 

“Oh, so you can slut around, but there’s an issue with me having a past?”

“No, there’s not. Because I’m not into you, so it doesn’t matter.”

“You’re such a fucking-”

Immediately you hop out of his car. You quickly start to walk to the sidewalk near the theater, keeping your eyes glued to your phone as you scroll to book yourself an Uber home quickly. Your vision is blurring, but you don’t stop looking at your phone, not giving a damn if cars are rolling through the lot. You may be an emotional wreck, but you won’t allow any man, no matter how in love with him you are, to tell you that he’s using you to your face. You can hear him call out to you- you can picture him leaning on the top of his car with that stupid grin, calling your name as if he doesn’t understand why you would be upset.

You’re that undesirable? But Ryomen Sukuna sees no issue with his past sexual escapades. His charm, and his ability to sweet talk any woman is attractive. 

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

And that leads you to where you are now, sitting in the dark of your room, sniffling and deleting everything in your Photo’s hidden folder.

[cherrynflowergarden]

જ⁀➴ bitter truths|| dealer!matt x doll!reader

sturniolo masterlist add yourself to the taglist

she should have been having a good time. the lights, the music, the chatter—it all felt like it should have lifted her spirits. but ever since her argument with matt, nothing felt right. she was here to distract herself, to put her thoughts somewhere other than the echo of his harsh and mean words but it seemed like it’s not working.

just as she was about to step outside for some air, she overheard a group talking. it was noah—and her heart sank as she caught a glimpse of his smirk, the words he was throwing around like she meant nothing to him.

“honestly, she’s just this clingy, naive girl,” noah said with a chuckle, taking a sip from his drink. “she’s so desperate to be liked, it’s almost pathetic. all you have to do is tell her what she wants to hear.”

she froze, his words hitting her like a punch to the chest. she could feel her face burning, shame rising as she realized what matt had been trying to warn her about. every warning he’d given, every harsh word—he’d been right. she’d trusted her new friend, convinced herself matt was wrong, but here she was, being torn apart behind her back by the very person she’d thought was her friend.

unable to bear any more, doll turned and slipped out to the porch, the cool night air hitting her like a wave. she took a shaky breath, feeling her chest tighten as matt’s words echoed in her head.

"you're just an easy target."

“i’m just trying to keep you from getting hurt. but you’re too stubborn, too naive to see that half these people only see you as an easy target.”

“anyone gives you a bit of attention, and you’re ready to trust them with anything.”

her heart twisted painfully as she sank down onto the porch steps, burying her face in her hands. matt had been looking out for her trying to protect her and she hadn’t trusted him. she’d pushed him away, ignored his calls and messages for days. she could still see his hurt, the way he’d looked at her when she’d walked away. and now, because of her own stubbornness, she’d lost him. maybe for good.

hot tears spilled down her cheeks, her sobs barely muffled by her hands. it was more than just noah’s betrayal—she’d felt this kind of hurt before. people using her, taking advantage of her kind heart. but matt, he was the one person who’d never done that. the one person who saw her for who she was and still cared enough to protect her.

a movement caught her eye. she looked up, wiping her face quickly, and froze as she saw matt stepping onto the porch. his expression was a mix of anger and worry, his gaze softening as he took in her tear-streaked face.

he was here. he’d come, even after everything.

“doll…” his voice was gentler than she’d expected, laced with concern.

she sniffled, trying to keep herself together, but the sight of him, standing there after everything, just made her tears fall harder. “i’m so sorry, matt,” she choked out. “you were right… about noah, about me, about everything. i should’ve listened to you. i… i was so stupid.”

“oh darling…” matt shook his head, moving closer until he was sitting beside her. he reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering for a moment. “no, doll. don’t do that to yourself. i shouldn’t have said those things to you. i was trying to protect you, but… i went about it all wrong.”

she looked down, guilt twisting in her stomach. “but you were just looking out for me, and i pushed you away. i was so hurt by what you said, but you were just… you were right.” her voice broke. “i thought noah was my friend, and i didn’t see how awful he was until now. and i… i didn’t see how much you cared.”

matt took a deep breath, his hand moving to rest on hers. “i know i came on too strong. i thought i had to make you see it right away… i just didn’t want to watch you get hurt, doll. not by someone who didn’t deserve you. you’re so… you’re so good. so kind. and people like him, they don’t get that. they don’t get you.”

she looked up, her eyes shimmering with tears. “but i hurt you, matt. i shut you out because i didn’t want to admit i’d made a mistake.”

he squeezed her hand gently, his gaze soft. “you don’t need to apologize, doll. you have every right to trust who you want. i should’ve respected that. i just… i got scared for you. and i took it out on you, made you feel small.” his voice cracked slightly. “i’m so sorry for that.”

she shook her head, blinking back fresh tears. “but you were the only one who really saw me. you didn’t want anything from me. you were just trying to protect me, and i threw it back in your face.” she took a shaky breath. “i thought i’d lost you forever, that you wouldn’t forgive me.”

his gaze softened even more, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked at her. “doll, you’re not losing me. not now, not ever. i’ll always be here for you. just… maybe next time, let me be here without having to be so damn harsh.”

she let out a small, shaky laugh, relief flooding through her as she looked at him. “i… i’ll try. and maybe… maybe i’ll be a little smarter about who i trust.” her voice was soft, almost teasing, but there was still sadness lingering in her eyes.

he reached out, gently cupping her cheek, wiping away the last of her tears with his thumb. “look, doll… i’m sorry for every word that hurt you. you deserve better than that, better than me telling you what to think or feel. just… just know i only wanted to protect you. but from now on, i’ll trust you to protect yourself. i believe in you, okay?”

she nodded, leaning into his touch, a warmth settling in her chest. “thank you, matt… for being here, for everything.”

they sat there in silence for a moment, the tension between them finally easing as the hurt began to fade. she looked up at him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “i missed you.”

he gave her a soft smile, brushing his thumb across her knuckles. “i missed you too, doll. now, c’mon… let’s get out of here. i’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

she smiled, wiping the last of her tears as she stood up, her heart feeling lighter than it had in days. “just… somewhere i can breathe. and maybe talk. i think i’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

matt stood up beside her, his hand never leaving hers as he led her off the porch and away from the party. and with every step they took, she felt the hurt and the regret start to slip away, replaced by the warmth of knowing that, even after everything, matt was still by her side.

days later, she spotted noah near the college courtyard, his usual cocky smirk was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a scowl as he avoided everyone’s eyes. his face was a patchwork of bruises and cuts. the swelling around his eye and the split in his lip made her stomach drop, but she didn’t need to guess who was behind it. matt’s fury was written all over noah’s battered and bruised appearance. a part of her was furious with matt for going this far, but deep down, she couldn’t deny the flicker of satisfaction that he’d stood up for her—even if it was messy, brutal, violent and undeniably him.

an; LONG AWAITED PART TWO AYY LET'S GOOO (it's been two days) (i have exams from monday and instead of studying i'm being a delusional writer🥰) your honour i love them ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡ i wish my situationship was like matt but damn 😔

taglist; @mattsdolll @izzylovesmatt @mattsbow

[sugdenlovesdingle]

A different first meeting AU inspired by Blink182 - The Rock Show because I think Tommy is a rocker (no pun intended)

I'll post to AO3 when I've had some sleep.

🎵 fell in love with the boy at the rock show🎵

---

It wasn't his usual hang out, but after his break up with Natalia, Buck was desperate to surround himself with as much life as possible.

Some hole in the wall bar advertising live music, outside the 118's jurisdiction, seemed the perfect place to do it.

And also to forget he was currently the only single member of the 118 A shift.

The music was decent, the drinks not too expensive, and he liked the general vibe in the place. Even if he didn't recognise the majority of the songs the band was playing.

"Haven't seen you here before." someone said in his ear and he turned around.

The guy was gorgeous. Bright blue eyes and cheekbones that could cut diamonds.

"Oh uh... yeah... I mean... no, you haven't. I just wanted a change of scenery, I guess."

"Yeah? And how is that working out for you?" the guy asked, sitting down on the barstool next to Buck.

"Not too bad." he replied. "I think I like it here."

"That's good to hear. It would be a shame if we'd never see you again." the guy smiled and Buck was almost mesmerised by the way his eyes crinkled when he did. "Do you want another?" he nodded at the almost empty glass in front of him.

"Sure."

The guy got up and rounded the bar, grabbing two bottles of beer from the fridge.

"Is this your bar or something?"

"It might as well be with the amount of time he spends here." a woman of around their age said, as she walked back behind the bar carrying a serving tray with empty glasses.

"I keep telling you Gina, you should let me buy into this place. Tommy and Gina. Living on a prayer."

"Why does your name get to go first if its my bar?" the woman asked, hand on her hip.

"Because that's how the song goes. Take it up with Jon if you don't like it." he told her and laughed when she rolled her eyes at him.

"Get back to your side of the bar, you menace."

The guy, Tommy apparently, laughed again and went back to his seat next to Buck.

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"He wishes! I'm a catch!" Gina said while preparing a cocktail.

"Sure you are. If I was into women I would have made a move on you years ago." Tommy told her, looking at Buck from the corner of his eye to gauge his reaction.

"If I was into men, I might have appreciated that."

"She loves me really." Tommy told Buck. "Has done since we were kids."

"He was the new kid in the neighbourhood and my mother made me go say hi and play with him. Haven't been able to get rid of him since." Gina commented, and walked away with the cocktail.

Tommy laughed and took a swig of his beer.

"So now you know my name and how my best friend was forced to befriend me... but I don't know anything about you... yet."

"Well... what do you want to know?" Buck asked, trying to tear his eyes away from Tommy's lips when he took another swig.

"Everything." Tommy replied. "But let's start with your name."

"I'm B- my name's Evan." Buck told him, holding out his hand.

Tommy raised an eyebrow at the stumble but didn't mention it.

"Nice to meet you Evan."

They talked for a while. Laughing about everything and nothing, with Tommy getting mock offended when Buck admitted he didn't know the song Tommy insisted was one of his favourites and not many of the others either.

"Hey I spent most of my twenties travelling!" Buck laughed, defending himself. He liked talking to Tommy. He was fun and friendly, and definitely easy on the eye.

Objectively speaking of course. He'd always been able to appreciate a hot guy when he saw one. Just like he'd look at hot women. It meant nothing.

"And you didn't listen to music on your travels?" Tommy asked incredulously.

"I did... but I didn't pay much attention to it I guess" Buck shrugged, taking a swing of his drink. He hadn't really kept track of how many he'd had but he was starting to feel the buzz. "My sister's..." he shook his head trying to think of a word to describe Chim's relation to him and Maddie. "My brother in law..." He settled on. "He's this movie buff and he's always rolling his eyes at me when I don't get his references."

"Not a movie guy either?"

"Not really. I get distracted. I prefer documentaries. I like learning new things." Buck explained and took a good look at Tommy, taking in the amused look on his face. "Let me guess... you're a movie buff too?"

"I like the escapism, sue me." Tommy replied. "But I'm happy to teach you all about the classics. I've been told I'm a good teacher." He smiled and leaned a little closer, and for a minute Buck thought he was about to kiss him.

And how much he wouldn't mind that. At all.

"Thomas, get your ass up here and make yourself useful, man!" the singer from the band that had been playing all night suddenly called out.

And suddenly the moment was gone. Tommy laughed, leaned back, quickly finished his beer, and got up.

"Duty calls... are you sticking around, Evan?"

"Uh y-yeah, sure."

"Great." Tommy said happily and squeezed his shoulder in passing, letting his hand linger just a fraction too long.

He walked up to the stage and someone handed him a guitar.

As the band started playing, Buck recognised the song as one of Tommy's favourites he'd pointed out to him earlier, and couldn't help but stare at the man.

He was laughing with the others and making playing the instrument look effortless.

He was confident. Interesting.

The band played a few songs before Tommy handed the guitar back to a woman Buck hadn't noticed before and he stepped off the stage again.

Buck made his way over, suddenly eager to talk to him before anyone else would have a chance to.

"Hey!" Tommy greeted him and the crinkly smile was back. "Glad you stayed."

"Y-yeah me t-too..." Buck stammered, his brain somewhat disconnected from his mouth. "S-so... you play guitar?"

"Bass actually." Tommy corrected him. "Everyone knows the bass is the most important instrument in a band." he grinned. "I've been playing since I was a teenager and I play with these guys sometimes when I'm around."

"Yeah? You sounded pretty good. You made it look so easy. I wish I could play."

"I could teach you." Tommy offered without missing a beat.

"Yeah? Is that before or after you teach me about classic movies I need to watch?" Buck tilted his head and smiled as he stepped closer to Tommy, only vaguely aware he was doing it.

Tommy glanced down at his lips.

"No reason we can't do both."

Suddenly there were two fingers under Buck's chin, tilting his face up and Tommy's lips on his for the softest first kiss he'd ever had.

It was over before Buck's brain had really caught up with what was happening and he just stared at Tommy with a dazed and confused look on his face.

"Sorry I - " Tommy started but Buck cut him off, putting a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close and kissing him until neither of them could remember their own name.

~ A few days later ~

"There he is, Tommy Kinard, the man of the hour. Long time no see. " Chim said, pulling the guy that had just walked up to them in for a quick hug.

Buck couldn't get a good look at him from where he was standing. The guy was just muscles under a straining blue flight suit and slightly messy brown hair, until Chim stepped away and Buck choked on air.

Chim's buddy was the Tommy from the bar. The bassist who had turned his world upside down with two fingers under his chin in a dark corner of a bar he'd ended up in by chance.

"Let me introduce you to these two knuckleheads. This is Buck and Eddie." Chim gestured at them. "Guys this is Tommy, he used to be at the 118 when you two were just a twinkle in Bobby's eye."

Eddie stepped forward first and shook Tommy's hand.

"Eddie Diaz, thanks for helping us out."

"Sure thing. If Howie calls I answer. I owe him my life."

Eddie nodded and stepped back and gave Buck an expectant look.

"Oh. Right. Yes." Buck stammered and walked up to Tommy holding out his hand. "I'm Evan... E-Evan Buckley."

Tommy smiled as he shook his hand and Buck's knees turned to jello. Again.

"Nice to meet you Evan."

[gothamite-rambler]

When caught in a hostage situation by wannabe twitch streamers and can't be Batman

Bruce Wayne attended the gala alone; nobody wanted to go with him, and now he found himself with a gun aimed at his head. It was just another Tuesday in Bruce's life. He knew there was nothing he could do except kneel on the ground and wait for his kids to rescue him.

Bruce (in his head): I should've stayed home; then I could've saved the day. But no, I had to show up! Damn it, the things I do to keep my identity separate from my hero life.

Bruce (out loud): Can you hurry this up? Some of us have places to be.

Lennie, the goon leader, wore a white, expressionless face mask that only added to the absurdity of the situation. He sucked his teeth, visibly annoyed at Bruce's indifference to having a gun pointed at his head. It was as if he were trying to put on a show of intimidation, but the lack of reaction from his hostage only served to frustrate him further.

Lennie: We’re almost done setting up the livestream, geez!

Bruce (sarcastically): Oh yes, let’s make sure the whole world sees a bunch of no-name thugs holding a fancy party hostage. That’s smart. Truly brilliant. You're a real trailblazer.

Lennie: Yeesh, you don’t gotta be rude.

Bruce (dryly): Am I being rude? I’m just trying to maintain my composure here while you’re aiming a gun at my head. A little nervousness is understandable, don’t you think?

As if to prove his point, Lennie raised the gun away from Bruce’s head in a moment of misplaced confidence.

Lennie: Please, I’m an expert shooter—

Just then, Lennie's finger slipped, and the gun went off, shooting across the room and hitting a statue, which promptly shattered—sending shards flying and making a woman at the party scream in terror.

Lennie (shouting): I told you to stop screaming!

Bruce glared at the man for a second, then turned back to staring ahead, internally counting the seconds ticking by like they were days as he waited for literally any of his children or even Kate to arrive to save him.

Lennie: All right, I’ll just hold the gun at my side and grip the back of your neck. Don’t do anything stupid; the gun is still loaded.

Bruce (indifferent): You’ve shot it twice already, so that doesn’t bode well for your "expert shooter" credentials. But hey, start the stream for your three followers to enjoy.

Lennie (enraged): Hey! We are on the come-up! Oz, is everything ready to go?

Oz, a blonde man in a blue bandana with eye slits cut into the fabric, checked the wireless conference cam that sat on a nearby chair and glanced at his phone.

Oz (hesitantly): Um, yeah, I think?

Lennie: Cool, start it.

Oz: It’s already running.

Lennie: What? For how long?

Oz (pointing at Bruce): Well, since he mentioned we were using Twitch for our heist.

Lennie: God damn it! I told you to wait for my signal before hitting the stream button!

Oz: I thought you’d be more professional when I started the feed. What did you want the signal to be, “Cool, start it”?

Lennie: …

An old man at the gala couldn’t help but chuckle as he realized that was the signal.

Old Man: Good thing you’ve got guns, because your performance so far is downright terrible!

Bruce (aggravated tone): You must’ve failed clown college, didn’t you? This is your backup plan? Want to look like a joke in a different way?

Lennie: Shut up! Fuck, you’re just like my parents! Lucy!

Lucy strolled over, holding a similar gun and wearing a light purple ski mask.

Lucy: Yes, babe?

Lennie: Lucy, I told you not to call me that during this!

Lucy: Sorry, baby! I mean Kenny—oops, sorry, Lennie.

Lennie groaned, burying his face in his hands.

Lennie (whispering to his girlfriend): Just stand next to the rich guy while I read the ransom. You’re better with guns.

Lucy (cheerfully): Okay!

Lucy walked over to Bruce, lightly gripping the back of his collar while aiming the gun at his upper shoulder.

Lucy: Hi, Mr. Wayne!

Bruce: Don’t chat with me right now. Why are you aiming the gun at my shoulder?

Lucy: Gotta start lower and work my way up, you know?

Bruce: That actually makes sense in a messed-up way.

Lucy: Thanks! Lennie, you starting soon?

Lennie (covering his eyes in frustration): I need a fucking minute… Okay, Oz, get the stream going!

Oz (confused): Again?

Lennie: What do you mean "again"?

Oz: The one I started two minutes ago is still streaming. We’ve got viewers too! Do you want me to end that? Why? You’re already wasting time.

Lennie clasped his hands together, feeling the pressure as his plan began to crumble, and Bruce—ever the thorn in his side—wasn’t letting up.

Bruce: You’re doing a terrible job if you wanted an audience’s opinion.

Lennie (angry shouting): I’d shoot you right now if I could! I have to talk to the actual audience because if I have to talk to that smug asshole one more time, I’m going to beat your ass.

Bruce: That’s rich, coming from you.

Lennie growled, huffing as he tried to rein in his temper. He turned to the camera, his irritation palpable, and prepared to begin the ransom speech he had memorized.

Lennie (clears throat): Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the most glamorous hostage situation of the decade! If you think this is a PR disaster, you're absolutely correct!

Bruce (with a sarcastic edge): Wow, did you actually memorize that?

Lennie held up his index finger, then pulled a white bandana out of his pocket and stormed over to Bruce, tying the scarf across the man's mouth to silence him. Bruce rolled his eyes dramatically as Lennie turned back to the camera, as if he were the star of a reality show gone wrong.

As the wannabe streamer continued his speech, Stephanie, Tim, and Duke were perched atop a nearby building, close to the glass rooftop where the gala was taking place. They waited for the signal from Nightwing, who was in a different location, to ambush the kidnappers—but for now, they were watching the stream. Their reactions varied widely.

Tim let out a long, frustrated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Tim: Yep, yep.

Stephanie was practically doubled over with laughter.

Stephanie: I can’t believe the guy in the white mask wasted two bullets! What a dumb ox with some serious daddy issues!

Duke, sporting a worried expression, chimed in.

Duke: I don’t know what scares me more—his incompetence accidentally getting Bruce shot or the fact that this stream has a concerningly high number of viewers!

Stephanie nodded, still chuckling.

Stephanie: Right? It’s like a bizarre comedy show!

Tim: I definitely recognize the ring leader by his grating voice. We took social psychology together at CUNY. Well, we took that one class before he dropped out to pursue... whatever this nonsense is. This missing chromosome was a jerk back then and hasn't changed.

Duke (raising his left eyebrow): He has a YouTube channel where he harasses people but calls it "pranks"?

Tim: No, it’s a TikTok page!

Stephanie burst out laughing harder, shaking her head in disbelief.

Stephanie: This is too good!

Tim: This is going to be an interesting mission.