#finally started this one since it's almost complete

[solxamber]

Leona, romantic, and “September” by James Arthur. Idk, I just always strongly associated this song with him.

"I'm gonna love you for the rest of my life" || Leona Kingscholar

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: September by James Arthur

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 580

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Fluff, Established Relationship

Leona remembers seeing you around back when you were both young. At first, he didn't think much of you—just another face in the sea of students, another voice in the endless chatter that he had no interest in.

But the more he saw you, the more you lingered in his mind, the more he felt like he had to talk to you.

Not that he'd ever admit it out loud.

So he does what any self-respecting, prideful man would do—he bribes Ruggie to drag you to the botanical gardens under some flimsy excuse, and just so happens to be there himself.

"What a coincidence," he drawls, feigning disinterest, stretching out on the grass like he owns the place. But when you plop down next to him, start talking about something mundane yet completely captivating, he knows.

It’s instant. The way he falls. The way you slip into his life so effortlessly, laughing at his sarcasm, stealing his fries, treating him like he’s just Leona and not the second prince of some far-off kingdom.

Even when he scoffs, even when he refuses to admit it at first, you are his friend. You are his.

And then, one day, you’re both sprawled across his bed in a way that feels so natural, as if you belong there. He’s half on top of you, lazy and heavy with the weight of an afternoon nap, and you’re giggling at something on your phone. The sound is warm, golden, wrapping around his heart like the sun after a storm. It’s infuriating.

He can’t let this go on. He can’t let another day pass without making you his.

So he grumbles out a question, as if he’s annoyed by his own need for you. “Go out with me.” His cheeks are flushed, his tail stiff and betraying him, and for a second, he almost takes it back—almost—but then you look at him like he hung the damn stars, and you say yes.

And when he kisses you for the first time, slow and deep and possessive, he thinks—maybe—he can finally look in the mirror and like who he is.

Every weekend, he waits for you. Waits for you to finish your errands, your work, your whatever so you can spend the whole day with him. Because he’s stronger with you, and weaker without you. You’re his soulmate, his lover, his home.

And when the weight of his title presses down on him, when the whispers of "never good enough" creep in, you’re there. Always. Holding him in the dark, chasing away his demons with nothing but a smile and the unshakable belief that he is yours.

Sometimes, he gets mad. He can’t help it. Sometimes, he snaps even at you. Sometimes, he’s too jaded, too bitter, too tired of the expectations forced onto him since birth.

But then you have the audacity to smile at him, that infuriatingly sweet smile, and he wants to drag you back to bed and keep you there until the world forgets both of you exist.

Until he can hear nothing but your laughter and the soft, whispered confessions you think he doesn’t catch when you think he’s asleep.

He’s going to love you for the rest of his life.

And as he lays beside you now, watching your peaceful expression as you sleep, his fingers ghost over the ring he keeps hidden in his bedside drawer.

He can’t wait to make you his family. And for you to make him yours.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[alilobsessive]

The Terrible Crow

All your life you desired recognition from your father, well you got it! But not from your bio dad, things only grow worse from there. For the Bats, not for you.

All your life you have longed for one thing, you’re Father’s recognition. At first it was simple things, like getting good grades, school awards. Anything for him to tell you how good of a job you’re doing. When he brought in Dick that changed, the escalation was quick. If he could be Robin, if he could fight with your Father why couldn’t you? Eventually after years of begging he agreed, then not even a week later he took in Jason and he became the new Robin. Your Father told you it was because he was older then you, already making it safer for him to go then you. When you brought up the fact that you’re the same age as Dick when he started, your father countered that Dick already had years more training with his parents than you.

After that you reluctantly didn’t argue, scared of seeming like nothing more than a spoiled kid. Jason in you began training together, although the two of you grew a bond it never felt right. Everyone called you close and although you liked him a part of you was resentful. You’re Father was always tougher on your training then Dick or Jason, always finding a flaw no matter how long you practice. In a way it helped you perfect your skills to the last detail. But he never told you “good job” not like Dick or Jason, it was always moving right on to the next thing. After Jason’s death the training got worse, he was somehow harder and stricter than before. You went to bed sore with aching bones and bruises from training, if you went to bed at all that is. Sometimes your sleep schedule was what was being trained, he would make you stay up for days at I time, rarely doing anything more than a nap. He told you this was similar to the training he went through, that it would make you stronger.

You never got the chance to prove it though, not even a half a year since Jason died a new boy was brought in. Tim’s the same age as you, highly intelligent and good at stealth but completely untrained. “SO WHY IS HE ROBIN!” You screeched at the man you call Father, Tim stands there glaring at you. He has a red mark on his cheek from where you slapped him when you were told he would be Robin. You were instantly yelled at and reprimanded by your Father for this, which started this argument in the first place. “I HAVE TRAINED FOR MOST OF MY LIFE FOR THIS, I HAVE DONE ALMOST EVERYTHING YOU WANTED ME TO! I FOLLOWED YOUR ORDERS I DEDICATED MY LIFE TO THIS” You scream at him, tears filling your eyes and falling down your cheeks. He just stares at you, expression blank and unchanging “what made you think I’d ever make you Robin?” Is all he says. Freezing you just stare at him crushed. “You’re dismissed” you feel like he spits it out, he doesn’t but it feels like he does “don’t ever train here again, nor even think about being a vigilante” you’ve never felt so much rage and sorrow before. You turn around to leave pushing Tim to the ground as you do “you’re grounded!” He calls out. Without even looking back you flip him off “fuck you Bruce!”.

After that things were never the same, you never wanted to try at anything anymore. What was the point in constantly studying if it meant nothing? So you did whatever you wanted, there were barely any consequences. Bruce didn’t give a shit about you, he never truly did. Alfred always sided with Bruce, sure he called him out when he was in the wrong, but that rarely changed anything with you. Dick was as absent in your life as ever. Finally you and Tim’s relationship was shit, it would never recover, at least you didn’t care if it did or not.

Eventually though you stumbled across a niche that peaked your interest. It started small, quick one minute videos about animal biology you finished the nearly 10 year old channel's entire library of content in 2 days. Then it evolved into animal psychology and finally to humans, what made them tick. It was fascinating every last detail interested you, from the mating habits of raccoons to the study that showed most humans could pick out snakes in extremely pixelated and blurry images. Even the more questionable experiments that would never pass today, like the wire and cloth mothers, and the monster study. Things that would have been difficult to prove or research if it wasn’t for the unethicalness of it all. Hell, even the bullshit study with gorillas learning sign language was interesting, even if the whole thing was completely pointless and awfully mismanaged. It was just so interesting to learn about.

Then you stumbled across it, a familiar name, Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow. All his published studies were almost 2 decades old, but that didn’t stop how interesting they were. Both as a glimpse into the mind of a madman who long had his license revoked and as a study in how the mind understood fear in general. Sure you were made to memorize his habits, his usual schemes, hell you even helped reverse engineer and make a cure for several of his fear toxin strands. But you never learned about his studies, never learned about the person behind the mask. But now you wanted to, desperately, of course you couldn’t just go to Arkham. Bruce would learn about it and who knows what he would do once he learns of your little…. curiosity.

No, you didn’t want that, so you lied in wait for the perfect time. But while you did so you studied, falling back into old habits. Day and night you obsessively researched human psychology, several studies both bullshit and true. You memorized everything, dates, names, places, what effects they had, any changes or new revelations in the study, what they were studying and in some cases what they ended up actually studying. You even ended up dabbing deeper into chemistry. All of this to impress someone, but you enjoyed learning these things. All of this was fun, unlike dealing with Bruce.

Then finally the day came, Scarecrow broke out of Arkham. Using the skills Bruce ground into your brain you found him. It was pretty easy, you're shocked he didn’t find Scarecrow sooner. Of course you ended up captured, tied to a chair in one of his labs. Oh also a gun pointed at your head, neat! “What are you doing here?” Scarecrow says suspiciously, a wide grin forms on your face as you happily say “I want you to teach me!” The man just looked at you strangely. Then he laughed, “this isn’t a very funny joke kid” the man sneered at you. “But I’m not! I’ve read your work Mr. Crane! It’s absolutely fascinating! I want to learn more, especially about your newer unpublished stuff!” He just stares at you, “really?” He asks, pointing the gun down. Although he doesn’t look like he believes you, “then prove it” before you can even react the gun is back at your head and he shoots.

The bullet barely misses but you don’t move, don’t even flinch, you just smile. You know how manic you look, but you don’t care. Scarecrow just stares at you surprised, he completely lowered the gun and put it away. “Well..” he mumbles, “I guess I can give you a test” that made you feel nothing but pure glee.

The costume you were put in started out simple, a almost completely black suit with blue gloves and a mask vaguely resembling a plague doctor. You thought you looked like a rip off emperor's coven member but that’s not that important. As Crow as his apprentice you were first given grunt work, helping and leading his henchman in getting supplies for whatever project he was working on. That was when you weren’t doing homework, taking notes, organizing documents. The Bat’s were completely unaware of what you were doing, sure they knew you had something after school. The one time they asked you told them you got an internship. They didn’t even bother to verify if that was true or not. Alfred was the only one who even slightly cared and even then he was just proud that you finally found a calling away from the vigilante life. Boy was he only slightly correct.

Things started ramping up after you defeated Tim, Robin in combat. The pure smug joy you felt at that moment is indescribable. The rejected Robin, who's rusty, proving that they're stronger, faster, smarter, better than the current? You were so excited you almost went into hysterics, and the fear on his face as you brutally kicked his ass? Priceless! They didn’t even realize it was you, but Scarecrow did, he recognized how similar your fighting style are instantly. At first you were worried, scared even about what he’d do now that he knew. Truthfully he was suspicious at first, but once you told him your story, how you were rejected from being Robin in favor of the second and third. How cruel they were to you before and after, even said you would tell him the secret identities of the bat’s and everyone you know is affiliated with them. Both publicly and privately, although he rejected your offer he saw your desperation. How much you want, no needed to stay, to keep this. Scarecrow accepted your loyalty and at that moment you truly became Crow.

To commemorate this occasion you got an outfit change. It became more padded, the mask looking more like a helmet then anything, and boots that increase your height by several inches. You were also made to train in a different combat style with both the added height and change of vision it was a necessity. But also to help cover your tracks as Crow from the Bat’s. So you grow, you changed, you trained and trained and they never noticed. Not when you came back injured from work, with new bruises and scars. Not when you came home with gifts, or when you brought your assignments back with you. They were completely ignorant as Scarecrow, Jonathan Crane, he became your family, your father.

Eventually though Bruce got suspicious, he never figured out who you were, not until much later. But he realized you're doing something shady, the man never put in the effort to figure out what exactly. So he sent you off to a college far from the city, of course he let you pick the field you wanted. It wasn’t too hard to figure out what to do, psychology was already your passion after all and you were being trained by the best. The only issue was Crow, how to excuse there absence. So faking an extreme injury a week before you left easily fixed that. Afterwards you packed up and went to school, a school you would never return from, not to the manor at least.

There you continued your studies, your training in all forms and your contacts with Scarecrow. The only real difficult thing was not getting caught in your less ethical studies. You spent from the age of 18 to 24 studying as much as possible in your field getting both a bachelor’s and master’s. The plan was to go for a PHD too, but sadly things were interrupted and you quickly returned home. Your dad, Scarecrow was extremely injured during a fight and was in the hospital. Someone needed to step up, that person was you.

This time your outfit changed once more, it made you look even bigger and bulkier then you were. A cloak with a feathered collar, iron gloves with clawed ends, the faceless bird helmet looking even more imposing. Everything in your power to make you look as menacing as possible, large and imposing, a night to rival the knight. As you were making your return known you discovered something interesting, a new Robin, a baby brother. Dispute your issue with your family something about this was exciting. You felt so happy and you didn’t know why, but the fact he’s a Robin? Well, the kid needed to be taught a very important lesson before he learned it the hard way.

It wasn’t hard leading him to Wayne tower by himself. Kid had the skills but no discipline, reckless and willing to do anything to prove himself worthy. You can relate, which is way it has to be you who dose this. You approach the 10 year old boy from the shadows “you came alone hatchling?” You say in a soft voice. He jumps away and wipes his head around to face you eyes wide, he pulls out his sword and points it at you. “How-“ “a magician never reveals there secrets” you say playfully “now put the sword down baby bird” he doesn’t just glares at you. He then lunges forward aiming for your throat, but it wasn’t hard to grab the blade and rip it from his hand. He stares at you wide eyed as you throw it to the other side of the building, he quickly reorganize himself and throw a punch. But you dodge it, each kick and punch he sent was easily avoided.

As he moved to kick your head you grabbed his leg, and pulled him away. “You know” you begin walking to the edge tone not changing, “in nature Crows and Robins have an interest relationship. Crows are an omnivorous creature, they don’t just eat seeds and nuts like some people will have you believe. They’ve even been reported to peck out the eyes and tongues of lambs. Robins are no exception,” you hold him over the edge and watch as his eyes widen. He squirms and yells, “Crows will actually protect the nests of Robins, for a fee of course.” Batman should appear any minute now. “There young, they take and feast on the eggs and hatchlings. They basically farm them, it’s fascinating really. Crows are one of the smartest birds, about as intelligent as a 7 year old human. We’re watching the first signs of the evolution of a society!” You say almost giddy, “little mafias! It’s adorable and fascinating!” “We’re are you going with this” you just stare down at him, your mask making it nothing more then a dark void. You can practically feel his presence close to you, “it’s simple really! I’ve never been payed my dues! And you’re just a hatchling that doesn’t know better” and you drop him.

Batman catches him of course, but by the time he does and gets back up the tower you’re already long gone.

——————

Sorry if it takes a while for me to post things! I haven’t been feeling great both physically and mentally lately.

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 7

Ch 8 is done, working on Ch9 so here is ch7! Enjoy and check the end notes for a bit of explanation(?) 🫠

The action is starting soon- I'm buzzing with the need to finally get into the Viltrumite plot but it still will take a bit, haste spoils the work, and all that.

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 7 >>next(TBC)

In the week that it took to get all documents done and over with, you and the Graysons grew closer and closer, specifically you and your brother, both of you seemed to sink your claws into each other, acting more like twins in sync than an older and younger sibling duo.

If Mark wanted to go somewhere and Nolan wasn’t around. You’d fly him there, if you wanted something and were too shy or nervous to ask his parents for it, he’d ask for it and give it to you later. And, while you both had bedrooms, every other night there was a sleepover in the others one room, always ending up with you two sleeping under a pillow fort, being kids, having fun.

You loved Debbie, and Nolan was okay even when he was clingy and talking nonsense about training you to conquer words. You were quite sure he was joking, the face he made right after saying things like that reassured you that wasn’t quite what he wanted to say- or it wasn’t how he felt anymore.

It was easy to see that you preferred Debbie, no matter how much Nolan tried to spend time with you, or how close you were to Mark, your priority was always Debbie. You weren’t calling her mom, it felt too soon for you, you weren’t ready, but you were a mama’s girl. You were the first to greet her, the first to offer to help her cook and clean, the first to go shopping with her, even the first to shyly ask her to paint your nails or to just spend time together.

It was so long since you went physically into a shop, even after leaving the Waynes you stuck to online shopping, and the first time you did it was with Debra, your hand shaking in hers as you stuck close to her, quieter than usual. The traffic of the store clearly made you nervous, so the woman made sure to always have a reassuring hand on you if she couldn’t hold your hand. With time you didn’t need to hold onto her anymore. Debbie almost cried when she realized that soon you wouldn’t need her at all.

And then the discussion of school came up. You could have lied, told them that you haven’t gone to school since your mom died- but you didn’t want to be like Bruce, all secrets and lies, you were already keeping quite the secret by not telling them about who your biological father is. So, you told them everything about you skipping grades, showing the diplomas and online school you’ve still worked on.

Neither of the adults seemed happy about you being stuck with online class, and honestly, neither were you. When your question about maybe joining the same grade as Markus, to keep close to him and meet other children your age, seemed to make both as happy as you were when they approved.

Now, it was easy to get you in, you even met William, Mark’s friend, but keeping yourself from correcting the teachers was another thing. You understood to a degree that the curriculum was different, that you were still kids and maybe learning about genocides wasn’t ideal- but when so many of your peers are willing to throw slurs left and right like 4Chan degenerates you were sure they could take the reality of what actually happened in history.  

Then the math teacher accused you of having an answer book, of cheating, of using a calculator when you were told not to- you may have snapped and yelled at him to give you an equation, any equation that was taught in the older grades, and if you could complete it in front of everyone, on the board, he’ll have to shut up about you.

That’s how you ended up seeing the principal, not because of your outburst, but because the teacher decided you were wasting your potential sitting around with the others when you could be in a grade that fulfilled your needs and developed you further. The principal agreed, and he was tired of the other teachers complaining, so you and your guardians were given an option of either taking a test to assess what grade you should be put in- or expulsion due to the many complaints against you.

You took the test. That way you could at least still be in the same building as Mark, and could still socialize, even if the idea of the older kids made you anxious- the high school themed movies didn’t help your expectations. The girls that you hung around in your new class, however, were quite nice, saw you as a little sister, including you in their study sessions and girl talk, braiding your hair. The boys mostly ignored you, and in return you ignored them. It was nice.

Debbie always worried about the older kids, and while Nolan did too, he was more enthusiastic about you being in school for one year instead of the other 4 or 5, after all, surely, you’ll want to help dad with hero work instead of going to college… Right?... Well, no. Your sight was set on the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, their art programs making you go rabid with need- so many options, so many possibilities, you couldn’t decide on what you wanted to apply for. If you had eternity on your side, you’d apply for all of them, not like Bruce will need the money.

The year you spent at school, actually at school, was as fun as it was exhausting. You never realized how much energy it takes to wake up at a specific hour every day, to socialize, to take tests with about 30 other students- It sometimes overstimulated you, making you miss online schooling to a degree. Still, you found solace in your visual arts class.

The teacher loved you, not many other students were that interested in drawing, let alone actually learning and painting on canvases. So, you coming in with sheets of paper as tall as you were, with paints and canvases, with charcoal and markers- oh she could almost cry of happiness. She wasn’t a mean teacher, or eccentric like in the movies, but she wasn’t a pushover either. If you wanted a grade in her classroom, you had better have something to show for it, and you had plenty.

While the others had a theme to follow due to them not taking the class for love of the arts but because they thought it would be easy work, she gave you freedom, so you took it. Your first drawings were of Lady Gotham, racking your brain to remember the stories the kids told you every night of her, not wanting to forget them or where you came from. Your teacher didn’t comment on the small figures you sometimes added sitting on her shoulder.

While you stuck to painting her statue in classes, your sketchbook was full of the many variants of her, everyone seemed to see a loved one in her face, but the only common thing was the long hair tied into a nice Edwardian or Victorian crown-bun, and her dark grey, fancy dress and pale, clawed hands.

If you were to ask the teacher which one was her favorite, she’d say it was your depiction of Death in the first painting you did in her class. It also depicted Morpheus, both of them standing over a bundled-up child trying to find some warmth in the corner of an alley as the God-like entities melted with the shadows, though the one of Persephone lounging with Cerberus and Hades was a close second. To her it was poetic, to you, it was a reality you didn’t want to duel on for any longer.

Time has never flown this fast for you, it was like you blinked and the year was over, finals and graduation looming close. You’ve grown closer to the Graysons, slipped once or twice and even called Debbie “mom”, got quite comfortable being close to Nolan, fell asleep on him a few times as he made for a nice furnace after training, and you and Mark were as inseparable as ever.

This was everything you wanted, more than you could ever dream of. Your eyes sparkled in tempo with the shines of the stars as you lied on your back on the roof. You missed your friends in Gotham, there will always be love for them in your heart- but this isn’t something you’ll be willing to give up without a fight, not when you were getting more and more powerful with each month.

Your hands moved in a similar manner to Atom Eve’s over your day clothes while you got up, making them shine a bright neon green, the color diming down and revealing pajamas once you set foot back in your bedroom.

You’ve learned- you know better now. You’re more than willing to eliminate any threat before they get the chance to do so, to take another loved one from you.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami

Notes: The green color of her powers is more a nod to the Lazarus water, it can be easily changed in y'alls mind but I think it's an important tiny detail. The reader's powers developed, but she still uses other's heroes moves to use them. And Nolan's training and words have felt a mark on batsis.

Hope I'm not forgetting anything else- 😬

[aakeysmash]

how did farmer!sukuna propose and what was their wedding like? btw I love your fics they give me life ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡

AAA FIRST OF ALL TY BAE! i’m so glad you enjoy my silly little fics ihihih.

Regarding the wedding: they made it in secret and with no one to attend it lol. They showed up at Yuuji’s (Sukuna’s twin) a week later, casually mentioning the wedding, and received insults left and right for not inviting anyone lol. The proposal was a whole different story though.

I think farmer!sukuna wanted to put a ring on it the first time he saw you. I imagine you two getting married really young, like at 20 years old, since you both knew you were the right ones for the other right from the start. He didn’t do some grand gesture, he’s not that type of guy, but he put as much thought as he could into it. He grew roses for months before picking them one by one and separating the petals. He then invited you over “for dinner or whatever”, he said, and you even brought some wine your family produced that year. You opened the door of his house with the keys he already gave you, just to find him putting said petals on the floor in front of you. You’re completely caught off guard and let the bottle of wine slip from your fingers. It crashed on the ground, completely drenching all of his hard work.

“I told you 8 pm, not as early as you can,” he gritted out, facepalming himself.

“I texted you when I left my house!” You replied, putting your hands on your hips and looking at his still crouching form.

“I was busy, as you can see,” he barked out, standing up. You scoffed. He frustratedly passed his hands in his hair, finally gazing at your face.

“Well, let me just get out then-“

“Will you marry me?”

You said at the same time. You froze, widening your eyes and your mouth, not believing his words. He fidgeted a little, panicking, running to his room mumbling curses and telling you to wait. He left you on his front door porch, in disbelief, just to get back to you with a simple gold band.

“I made it,” he softly said, opening his palm to allow you to put yours in his. “But if you don’t like it I can always buy you one- you don’t even have to marry m-“

“Yes,” you responded, bottom lip trembling and hand shaking.

“Really?” He grinned, almost as shocked as you. You nodded. His breath got caught in his lungs until the golden band was hugging your ring finger perfectly. You flew into his arms but he wasn’t ready to catch you, stepping back and immediately wincing.

You passed the rest of the day at the hospital to get the pieces of glass (which were still on the floor) out of his foot.

[polarimiufy]

i love neglected reader batfam aus but what if reader was growing up in the Wayne Manor not completely ignored by everyone. instead, they showed their love in little ways.

your family members were often busy. you were not completely oblivious to their nightly activities. often times, you had to attend a gala in your dad's place while he was prowling the night streets in Gotham wearing a bat costume. though, he tried not to make it as a habit or people will notice.

you love your family, really. there was no hesitation on your part. you were not related to Bruce Wayne by blood, like Damian, but you loved him like he was your real father. you just hoped that he would take care of himself more often and not spend so much time in the batcave. not to mention everyone was in on the secret. Dick was already off to Blüdhaven. Jason rarely came to the manor, and preferred to spend time in Crime Alley. Tim, now finally entering college, was busier than ever. Damian was also busy with school and being Robin.

your only hope was Alfred but even he can't be at many places at one time. so, you feel dejected. the manor felt so empty now that they were absent.

and your family noticed this. of course they did. so, they decided to show signs that they care.

Dick can't be at the manor all the time, so he often texted you messages. he sent you good morning texts, asking how you were doing and leaving reminders like "don't skip breakfast!" and "don't sleep too late, you don't want to be like Tim :)"

one of the few rare days when Jason did go to the manor, he took you riding around the city with his bike, going to the bookstore and grabbing lunch at that restaurant you liked. before he left, he would ruffle your hair and tell you "don't bring trouble" to which you scoffed because hello? look at you? and asked you if he needed to threaten someone, which was unnecessary. you were tempted.

as for Tim, since you both were almost the same age, you often spend time talking about the woes of living a college life. "ugh, Tim. i can't believe this but one of my groupmates hasn't answered my texts yet- the deadline is TOMORROW!" and cue the venting session. Tim always listened to your problems. he felt that sometimes you don't need a solution, you just need a good listener.

and Damian, given his upbringing, he wasn't good at expressing things like affection. he found you crying one time, stressed from doing assignments. it only took him one look at you before he grabbed his sketchbook and his art supplies then sitting next to you and started drawing. the sound of his pencil moving on the paper soothed your mind. you didn't need words to express yourself. just by being side by side, eased you both.

Alfred often made tea and cookies for you when you immersed yourself with work. he knew about your sweet tooth, and he liked to take advantage of it.

while Bruce was often absent from your life before, he tried to involve himself more. breakfast and dinner was spent with him asking about you. if you were doing okay, if someone was bothering you, if he had to bribe them to leave you alone, etc.

your family never said it out loud, but you knew.

you were loved.

[woso-story]

Tattoo

Georgia Stanway x Reader

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon in Munich, and the light coming through the windows of your apartment illuminated the cozy room you and Georgia had made your own. You could hear the faint hum of the city outside, the distant sound of pedestrians chatting and the occasional car passing by. Everything felt like it was in its place, and life, in all its simplicity, was perfect.

Georgia, your beautiful and talented girlfriend, was sitting across from you, her brow furrowed in concentration. You’d been looking forward to this moment for a while now. Today, she was going to give you your first tattoo.

You had always wanted to be inked by her, but every time you brought it up, she would laugh it off, saying she wasn’t ready yet, that she needed more practice. You never pushed her; you respected her decision. But now, the day had finally arrived. She was going to give you a tattoo.

You had been through a lot together since Georgia moved from Manchester to Munich. Her transfer had been a big change for both of you, but it felt like everything clicked when she arrived in Munich. The city was beautiful, the people were warm, and although the German language had posed a challenge at first, Georgia had found her place. She had found her second family with Bayern, and you, her constant support, had become her home away from home.

She had even found a new hobby here, a little tattoo studio called Pardon Paris, where she spent time with new friends and got better at her craft. It had become one of the places where she felt completely herself. And watching her tattoo others—like your teammates—was always a moment of joy for you. It was like seeing her in her element, just like when she was on the pitch. The focus, the concentration, the way she moved with such grace… it was mesmerizing.

Today, though, it was your turn.

You were laying on a lounger, your arm stretched out for her. She kept glancing over at you, a mix of excitement and nerves on her face. You knew how she was, how she had nerves of steel when it came to big matches—Champions League matches, league cup finals, even the Euro final—but now? She looked genuinely terrified.

You couldn't help but find it endearing. "G,” you called softly, your voice reassuring. “It’s going to be perfect. I know it will. You’ve got this.”

She met your gaze, a smile tugging at her lips. The nervousness didn’t fade, but you could see the gratitude in her eyes. “Thanks,” she murmured, taking a deep breath as she got up and moved to her tattoo station. She adjusted her gloves, setting her tools in place.

You relaxed, watching her with admiration. As much as she was nervous, you could see how focused she became once she started working. It was the same way she was on the field—intense, passionate, and fully committed. You had no doubt that this would be a work of art.

Half an hour later, it was done.

You sat up slowly, your gaze falling on your new tattoo. It was simple, yet meaningful. The year 2022, written in Roman numerals. MMXXII. It wasn’t just a number; it was the year that meant so much to both of you.

2022 had been a year full of highs and lows. It had been the year you started your first full season with the first team at Bayern, which ended with the title win. The year you earned your place within the team. It had also been the year of the Euro final, your first big tournament, where you had suffered the pain of loss—but you had also learned and grown. And most importantly, 2022 had been the year you met Georgia—the woman who had turned your life into something even more beautiful than you could have imagined.

You looked at her, still holding your arm up, waiting for her reaction. She was sitting back, her face shy, almost apprehensive. “What do you think?” she asked quietly.

Without hesitation, you leaned over and kissed her, your lips pressing softly to hers. When you pulled away, you smiled, the words coming easily. “It’s amazing. Exactly what I wanted.”

Her smile widened, and her eyes sparkled with pride. “Really?”

You nodded, your heart full. “Absolutely. And you’re definitely allowed to give me more tattoos in the future. You’re not that bad,” you teased with a grin.

She laughed, a soft, genuine sound that filled the room with warmth. “Well, I’m glad you like it. And I’m glad you trust me enough to let me do this.”

“I trust you with everything,” you said, your voice soft but firm. “Especially this.”

The smile she gave you made your heart skip a beat, and in that moment, you knew she felt the same way. She was your person, the one who made everything better. Life was perfect because of her. And no matter what happened in the future, you’d be by her side—on and off the pitch, in every tattoo, in every game, and in every moment.

She leaned in for another kiss, and as your lips met, you couldn’t help but think that this, this life, was exactly where you were meant to be.

And as she pulled away, still holding you close, you whispered, “You’re my home, Georgia. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Her smile was everything. “And you’re mine.”

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Hey p here!!! 👋🏻 Just as we talk, I want a fic about Toto Wolff x wife reader who always healthy/happy go lucky person and suddenly she's ill. You can't decide what it is. Include there drivers/anyone in the sports reaction. Like they're trying to help her, watching out for her. She's their friend/mother figure, of course they're worried. But being her, she just deals with humour even though she's sick. And can you include Jack? That boy has my heart. Even though this must be heartbreaking for him at such a young age, I think it's time for some angst, gut wrenching story that traumatize us all😃 And lastly how everyone cope with it. Add anything you want to. Thanks!!! :))) Appreciate it❤️❤️

With prompts:

1) "After all this time?” “Yes. I still do"

2) "My sweet and brave little munchkin."

3) "Tick tock, the clock is ticking"

4) "I thought we had more time"

Slipping through my fingers

there are moments in life that define everything, moments that still your world to a complete standstill people often assume that these moments are of joy or happiness. unfortunately for toto his moments caught a rotten streak and his world was never going to be the same ever again.

the day toto met her was a day full of surprises for both of them.

y/n had just recently made the decision to switch up her major from nursing towards mass media and journalism. it was a switch that raised a lot of eyebrows and concern from her family yet they supported her nonetheless, everyone knew how talented she was and knew she’d get a job eventually. What they didn’t know was along with the job she’d catch the attention of a rather tall man.

toto was having a rather eventful day, both of his star drivers had crashed into each other on lap one giving his arch nemesis horner his day in the sun with his prodigy max verstappen winning the race only to rub salt in his raw open wounds. he should have signed him instead of nico toto thought as he stomped through the media pen only to be bombared with around a hundred reporters eagerly waiting to see if the team principal was going to have another one of his infamous anger blowouts. alas to them a young female reporters questions had caught the interest of Toto.

Her question was clear cut no glazing no unnecessary flattery to grab his attention, all she’d ask him was if he’s going to fire someone on the pit wall for the strategies today. it was a bold question not one that reportes like to use since it ends up in court cases but she really didn’t care. It was her first few races and she wanted to make a name for herself and boy did she.

Toto’s response was curt and dismissive but she didn’t budge one bit, she was persistent and that caught Toto’s attention.

ladies and gentlemen this was the first moment in Toto’s life that had stopped the world for him.

the moment he looked into her eyes he felt everything was irrelevant. He didn’t care that both silver arrows were a pile of silver dust all that was captivating to him was the brown tinge in her hazel eyes. toto wanted to stare into them forever, and perhaps god was smiling straight down on them and decided to seal both their fates together.

and so it started.

their infamous courtship.

Now for a team principal speaking to people was almost second nature but when it came to her toto was a blubbering mess always leaving the conversation wanting to speak more, it was rather funny towards the other team principals. he was acting like a teenager with his first crush.

things weren’t all that easy for her too, each interaction with toto outside of business had her craving him more and more, she chuckled at his faint attempts to woo her and get her lunches. she too had a crush on him and it was only getting stronger.

the turning point in their relationship was the after party at the Abu Dhabi Grabd Prix, the long season was finally over and the celebrations had started. Toto had eagerly invited her and was hoping praying dying to see her come, unfortunately he wasn’t the only one who was waiting to see her, amongst his infatuation toto was as blind to how interested zak brown had also become towards her. he wasn’t often caught staring at her in places no man’s eyes had entitlement to. things were starting to get creepy but none of our two lovebirds had figured that out.

the party was in full swing when she had decided to show up, wrapping up her tasks with sky sports made her rather late but the look in Toto’s eyes when he had saw her was everything she had hoped and wanted. The man looked starstruck it was insane how whipped he was for her and they weren’t even together.

a couple of drinks and close dances later when she had excused herself to go to the ladies room was when calamity hit.

zak had his dirty gazes set on her ever since she had shown up, he knew toto wasn’t on guard whenever she was there and knew it was his time to try and get handsy with her.

right after walking out of the ladies room she was dragged into a corner and that’s when she felt small fat and stubby fingers trying to touch her. it felt humiliating disgusting and frankly made her want to bleach her skin. right before zak could cover her mouth and start with his actual plan she screamed as hard as she could hoping to get anyone’s attention oh how she regretted not taking up Toto’s offer to walk her to the restroom.

toto had wondered where she had ended up disappearing, was he being too much did she need a break from him?? he was overthinking when he heard her cries for help and in a second all the alcohol in his system had vanished. He leaped towards her cries and the scene startled him to his core, in a second zak was off her and his disgusting touch was replaced with the warm calm caressing of toto a man she was familiar with someone she knew.

the entire night was ruined in a split second, it wasn’t until toto had zak in a head lock that she’d regained her senses, seeing him so worked up over protecting her name and honour made her do what she did next.

the second toto was close by she kissed him, full on kissed him. it wasn’t short or messy it was full of reassurance of promise and of new beginnings.

that’s how the two souls collided.

oh and zak was given not one but multiple fractures and a hefty legal case to fight, toto didn’t play when it came to the ones who he loved.

the new couple relationship caused frenzy all over the internet and the paddock, no one really expected them to be a couple it didn’t make sense, out of everyone why did toto choose a journalist? Didn’t he know if they break up his whole life would be plastered onto the news.

Headlines like these made both of them chuckle, neither of them seeming to care, they were just happy to be with each other against all odds.

throughout the course of their relationship there were times where y/n had become sick, it often worried toto seeing how easily the common cold for her could become much serious, she always brushed his concerns away. it wasn’t until much later into their relationship when toto started noticing more and more health concerns for his now fiancé.

the proposal had taken place in Iceland she’d always loved it there especially the black sand beach and how beautifully it contrasted against the bright white snow, often times she’d dreamed of going there and toto made it a reality for them. she later joked that the beach and the snow represented each of them perfectly, Toto being the dark black beach that only softens in appearance in front of the snow. he’d got down on one knee at that exact spot uttering words of love and honesty. they had their vows at the exact same place. some things don’t change.

it was now 3 years into their marriage, toto had settled down and wasn’t all angry and violent like he used to be (ask the poor abused headsets) he was much calmer and level headed, that’s what happens when you marry the love of your life. he knew not to piss his wife off or worry her after all she was carrying his baby.

the pregnancy test was taken after she had thrown up half her body weight, toto wasn’t around he infact was in austria for the Grand Prix, she had excused herself from it with dumb excuses, Toto ever the gentleman knew not to push it and let her have some space.

In a matter of seconds their world’s axis shifted.

the pregnancy test came as a positive surprise, neither of them had discussed having children but they weren’t against the idea, when toto came back to his wife pale and heaving beside the toilet he knew what was going on, he whisked her off her feet and kissed her so strongly that you might think the man was off to war.

her pregnancy came with a price thou, a huge price for her to pay. y/n was anaemic her body didn’t have enough red blood cells and that’s why she could faint at the drop of a hat.

the couple had been shopping during the off season for the arrival of their little baby, unfortunately fans and paparazzi got a hold of their location resulting in a rather ugly swarm of cameras and people. the noise alone alerted Toto that their quiet evening had come to an end, in a rush to protect his wife and unborn child Toto’s steps where hastened and elongated, unfortunately his wife simply couldn’t keep up and fell victim to one of her fainting spells the camera and the noises alongside the amount of people did nothing to help her and so she collapsed.

the faint thud would haunt Toto forever, his whole world crumbled when he heard it, instantly he rushed towards her only to find her knocked out cold, the rush to the hospital has been the longest wait of his life.

he swore then and there that he wouldn’t ever put her or their child in such a situation.

luckily both mother and baby were okay, when they got home later that night she had fallen asleep unknown to the storm that was brewing within her husband.

Toto wasn’t a very emotionally available man, he preferred to deal with his emotions privately or not at all if possible but ever since meeting her he’s been more open towards showing love and care but the one thing he won’t show is fear.

Torger Christian Wolff was afraid.

he’d been having these vivid dreams of his wife dying and leaving him and their six year old son alone forever, it’s been haunting him ever since her fall.

[aspenmissing]

Hi! First of all, love your work. Second off all, could you write arcane characters with an S/O who has a really big dog? Kangal type of shit?

ᴀ ᴍᴀɴꜱ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx/ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 5135 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴ/ᴀ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ, ɪ'ᴍ ɢʟᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ! ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴇᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ Qᴜɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴜɴɴʏ ᴛᴏ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ! <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx/ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ

JAYCE

It had been a few months since you and Jayce had started seeing each other, and things were going better than you ever could have imagined. The two of you had settled into a natural rhythm, full of easy conversation, playful teasing, and quiet moments that made your heart ache in the best way.

You’d told him plenty about yourself—your work, your hobbies, your dog—but you’d deliberately left out one small, important detail.

The breed.

Jayce, being Jayce, had assumed you had a small or medium-sized dog. Something manageable, perhaps a lively terrier or an affectionate spaniel. Maybe even a lapdog that could curl up in your arms.

You didn’t correct him.

You were waiting for this exact moment.

=

Tonight, for the first time, Jayce was coming over to your apartment for dinner. He’d been over the moon when you invited him, eager to see more of your world outside of stolen hours together in the city or at his place.

"Looking forward to finally meeting your little pup," he said with a grin as he knocked on your door, completely oblivious.

You barely held back a laugh. Oh, he has no idea.

With a smirk tugging at your lips, you unlocked the door and cracked it open. You didn’t even get a word out before chaos erupted.

A massive blur of thick, golden-red fur and sheer muscle burst through the gap like a wrecking ball, launching itself at Jayce with the force of a battering ram. A deep, earth-shaking bark echoed through the hallway as Atlas, your beloved Tibetan Mastiff, tackled your poor, unsuspecting boyfriend straight to the ground.

Jayce barely had time to let out a startled yell before he was slammed onto his back, pinned beneath what could only be described as a small bear in canine form.

"What the—?! Y/N! HELP!" Jayce wheezed as he was absolutely smothered by Atlas’s overwhelming enthusiasm.

You burst into laughter, doubling over at the sight of your massive dog sprawled across Jayce’s broad chest, eagerly licking his face with sloppy, wet kisses.

Atlas, towering and fluffy, easily weighed over 75 kilograms of sheer power and fur. His thick mane—so full it looked almost leonine—puffed out around his enormous head, making him seem even bigger than he already was. His massive paws pressed down on Jayce like he was made of paper, his heavy tail wagging so hard it nearly knocked over a side table.

Jayce, absolutely helpless, flailed beneath him. "Y/N, call him off! He’s—he’s—there’s SO MUCH OF HIM!"

Tears of laughter pricked your eyes. "I told you I had a dog!"

"You didn’t tell me you had a MOUNTAIN!" he shot back, voice muffled as Atlas joyfully slobbered all over him, his deep, pleased rumbles vibrating through his chest.

Atlas was having the best day of his life. His enormous, fluffy tail wagged harder as he panted happily, thoroughly besotted with this new human.

Finally, you took pity on your poor boyfriend. "Alright, Atlas, off."

With a low, reluctant huff, Atlas lifted his head and, after one final suffocating lick to Jayce’s cheek, heaved his massive body off of him.

Jayce sat up, breathless, dazed, and utterly covered in dog slobber.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing again.

Jayce ran a hand through his hair, which now had a considerable amount of drool in it, and turned to you with a look that was equal parts betrayal and astonishment. "THIS is Atlas?" he questioned. "This isn’t a dog, this is a whole lion!"

Atlas, completely unfazed by the accusation, plopped his gigantic rear down beside Jayce and gave him a big, toothy, doggy grin, as if expecting more attention.

Jayce blinked at him, eyes wide, before slowly turning back to you. "This is what you meant when you said you had a dog? You left out the part where he’s the size of a horse!"

You grinned as you crouched down next to Atlas, scratching behind his enormous, fluffy ears. "Would you have come over if I told you?"

Jayce opened his mouth, then shut it, clearly re-evaluating his life choices. "Honestly? Maybe not." He let out a sigh, wiping some of the excess drool off his face with his sleeve. "But now that I’m here, I guess I don’t have a choice."

Atlas let out a pleased huff, his tail sweeping across the floor in happy thumps.

Jayce looked at him warily. "He’s not gonna, like… eat me, is he?"

You snorted. "No, Jayce. He’s just obsessed with people he likes. Consider this his way of welcoming you to the pack."

Jayce glanced at Atlas, who was staring at him adoringly, eyes bright, tongue lolling out in an expression of pure joy. Despite himself, Jayce sighed and hesitantly reached out a hand.

Atlas immediately leaned into his touch, practically melting under the attention, his deep, pleased rumble vibrating through his whole body.

"Yeah, yeah," Jayce muttered, watching in mild horror as Atlas lifted a massive paw and plopped it onto his lap, effectively trapping him. "I guess he's kinda cute… in a 'he could kill me in my sleep' sort of way."

You laughed, leaning over to press a kiss to Jayce’s cheek. "You’ll get used to him."

Jayce gave you a long, dramatic sigh. Then, with an air of complete resignation, he reached out and scratched Atlas under his chin, prompting a deep, rumbling groan of bliss from your oversized beast.

"Yeah," Jayce muttered, shaking his head as Atlas nuzzled into him, tail wagging harder than ever. "I think I already have."

VIKTOR

The morning had not gone as planned. Y/N had meticulously arranged for Brutus, her colossal Irish Wolfhound, to be watched while she worked in the lab, but the sitter had cancelled last minute. With no other choice, she had wrangled all 80 kilos of shaggy, excitable muscle into Piltover’s prestigious Academy, leading him down the corridors as he practically dragged her along, nails clicking loudly against the polished floors. Heads turned, students and professors alike eyeing the enormous beast with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

Brutus was a sweetheart, really, but he had no concept of his own size. The second the doors to the lab swung open, the enormous dog’s ears perked up. His dark eyes locked onto Viktor, his long tail beginning to thump against Y/N’s leg with increasing intensity. Before she could react, Brutus let out a deep, delighted woof and tore free from her grasp, galloping forward like a force of nature.

“Brutus, no—!” Y/N yelped, lunging forward too late.

Viktor barely had time to glance up before he was nearly flattened, only managing to brace himself against the desk with his free hand as Brutus barreled into him. His cane wobbled slightly under the sudden shift in weight, and he instinctively tightened his grip on it, trying to maintain his balance. The sheer force of the impact made him stumble slightly, his knuckles whitening as he steadied himself. Tail wagging so hard it rattled the nearby equipment, Brutus let out a high-pitched whine of joy, his massive paws lifting slightly off the ground in an attempt to get even closer.

Y/N was there in an instant, desperately grabbing Brutus by his thick scruff and trying to pull him back. “Brutus, off! You’re going to knock him over—Viktor, are you alright?” Her voice was filled with panic, eyes darting to his leg in worry.

To her surprise, Viktor let out a breathless chuckle, one hand braced on the desk while the other tentatively reached up to scratch behind Brutus’ ears. “Well, this is quite the enthusiastic greeting,” he mused, amusement flickering in his golden eyes. There was a warmth to his tone, an openness that made Y/N pause, her grip on Brutus loosening slightly.

Brutus groaned in bliss at the attention, his enormous body relaxing as he flopped against Viktor’s legs. Y/N’s heart lurched. “Brutus, you’re going to hurt his leg—get off him!” she pleaded, trying to haul the behemoth away, her muscles straining against his sheer size.

Viktor, however, waved a hand dismissively, adjusting his stance slightly so his weight remained evenly distributed. “It is alright, Y/N. He is just happy to see me, yes?” He smirked as Brutus, completely ignoring Y/N’s protests, leaned in and licked his face, leaving a wet smear across his cheek. Viktor wrinkled his nose but still chuckled. “It seems he recognises my scent.”

Y/N groaned, still wrestling with the dog’s thick fur. “Of course he does. You’re all over me, so when I come home, you’re the smell he picks up on most.”

Viktor hummed, clearly enjoying that revelation far too much. “I see, I see.” His smirk deepened, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Then perhaps I should leave even more of my scent, hm?”

Y/N’s face burned, but before she could snap back, Brutus, completely unfazed by the exchange, let out a pleased huff and finally settled at Viktor’s feet, his head resting on Viktor’s lap as though he had just claimed him as his own. Viktor gave Y/N a sly grin, fingers running through the dog’s shaggy fur with slow, thoughtful strokes. “I believe you have lost this battle, Y/N. Brutus has chosen.”

Y/N groaned, dropping her forehead into her palm. “I can’t believe this. Now I have two troublemakers to deal with.”

Viktor laughed, full and rich, as he scratched Brutus behind the ears. “Oh, I assure you, I am much less work than this one.” He tapped Brutus’ nose, earning a happy chuff in response.

Y/N sighed, crossing her arms as she watched the scene before her. Viktor, looking more at ease than she’d seen him in weeks, a small smile playing at his lips as Brutus lay sprawled across his feet like a contented lapdog. It was ridiculous. It was unfair. It was—

Adorable.

She exhaled in defeat, shaking her head. “Fine. But you’re helping me walk him home later.”

Viktor raised a brow, smirking. “With pleasure.”

Y/N eyed him suspiciously. “Even if he decides to bolt and you have to keep up?”

Viktor tapped his cane against the floor with a small grin. “I will manage.”

Brutus let out a happy, rumbling sigh, and Y/N knew in that moment she was never going to win against the combined efforts of these two troublemakers.

JAYVIK

Jayce stood with his arms crossed, glancing at Viktor with a sceptical expression as they stood outside Y/N’s home. "She’s exaggerating, right? A ‘giant beast’? How bad can it be?"

Viktor shifted his weight onto his good leg, gripping his cane as he shot Jayce a knowing look. "You say that now, but I have learned not to underestimate Y/N’s words. If she says it is a ‘beast,’ it probably is."

Jayce scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Pfft. It’s just a dog."

Before Viktor could respond, the front door swung open, and Y/N stood there with a wide grin, leaning casually against the frame. "Finally! Took you two long enough. Come on in, the dogs have been dying to meet you."

Jayce and Viktor exchanged a glance before cautiously stepping inside. The house was warm and welcoming, the scent of something sweet lingering in the air—maybe tea, maybe fresh bread.

But they weren’t focused on that. Their eyes immediately began scanning the room, looking for the so-called ‘giant beast’ Y/N had warned them about.

And then, from around the corner, a tiny dog trotted into view.

A minuscule, scruffy little Yorkshire Terrier with a puffed-out chest and an attitude far too big for its size. Its wiry coat was a mix of tan and grey, ears perked high with excitement as it strutted forward like it owned the place.

Jayce blinked. "That’s it?"

Viktor tilted his head slightly, studying the tiny creature with an unimpressed look. "This is the ‘beast’?"

Y/N, clearly holding back laughter, crouched down and affectionately scratched behind the little dog’s ears. "Yep. That’s Titan."

Jayce let out a bark of laughter, crouching to the dog’s level. "Oh, come on, Y/N! You made it sound like you had some monster in here!"

Titan—despite being barely the size of Jayce’s forearm—stood proudly, his little tail wagging with confidence. He yapped excitedly and immediately tried to wrestle Jayce’s fingers, gnawing at them with all the ferocity of a tiny warrior.

Jayce grinned. "Oh yeah, real terrifying."

Viktor exhaled, leaning slightly on his cane. "I was expecting something… larger."

And then the ground shook.

A heavy thud echoed through the room.

Jayce and Viktor froze.

There was a sound of something massive moving—slow, deliberate steps, heavy paws pressing against the wooden floor. The air suddenly felt different, thick with an undeniable presence.

And then they saw it.

Emerging from the hallway, like some ancient guardian beast, was a dog so massive it practically had its own gravitational field. A Kangal, broad-shouldered and powerful, with a thick, cream-coloured coat and a dark mask over its face. Its sheer size dwarfed everything in the room, towering over the furniture.

It stared down at them with calm but all-knowing eyes—assessing, judging.

Viktor instinctively tightened his grip on his cane. Jayce slowly stood up, his laughter dying in his throat.

"...A-Are you sure that's not Titan?" Jayce asked, voice suddenly a lot quieter.

Y/N smirked, crossing her arms as the enormous Kangal sat down with a heavy huff, the sheer weight of it making the floor creak slightly. "Nope. That is Peanut."

There was a pause.

A long, painful pause.

Viktor pressed a hand over his face. "You switched their names on purpose, didn’t you?"

Y/N grinned, tilting her head innocently. "I have no idea what you mean."

Titan, the tiny Yorkshire Terrier, let out a high-pitched bark, as if personally mocking them.

Peanut—who could probably take down a fully grown man if he wanted to—merely blinked slowly before gently lowering himself onto the floor with a yawn, completely unbothered by the chaos.

Jayce swallowed hard, clearing his throat as he stepped slightly behind Viktor. "So… uh… he’s friendly, right?"

Y/N gave Peanut a few loving pats on his massive head. "Oh, absolutely. Wouldn’t hurt a fly."

To prove her point, Peanut lowered his massive head onto his paws, staring up at them with the softest, kindest eyes imaginable. His tail gave a single slow wag, clearly too relaxed to care about their presence.

Jayce let out a relieved sigh. "Alright, okay. That’s not so—"

His words were cut off as something launched at his leg.

Titan, the real beast of the house, latched onto Jayce’s ankle with all the force of a miniature hellhound, snarling like he was taking down an intruder.

"WHAT THE HELL—GET IT OFF!" Jayce yelped, shaking his leg in a panic as Titan clung on with surprising strength.

Viktor, for once, looked genuinely amused. "Ah, I see now," he mused, watching the tiny terror gnaw on Jayce’s boot. "Peanut is the gentle one. This is the monster."

Y/N doubled over in laughter. "Yeah, yeah, Peanut’s a sweetheart. But Titan?" She smirked. "He’s the real beast of the house."

Jayce finally managed to shake Titan off, the tiny dog landing gracefully on all fours and immediately puffing out his chest as if he had won the battle. He let out a triumphant bark, clearly enjoying Jayce’s suffering.

Peanut, still sprawled on the floor, let out a long, lazy sigh, completely unbothered.

Jayce ran a hand down his face. "I hate this house."

Viktor smirked, giving Peanut a few careful pats on the head before glancing at Jayce. "I, on the other hand, rather like it."

Titan barked again, eyes locked onto Jayce like he was ready for round two.

Jayce narrowed his eyes. "Don’t you dare."

Y/N grinned, wrapping an arm around both of them and pulling them closer. "Oh, relax, big guy. You’ll get used to it."

Titan wagged his tiny tail. Peanut yawned.

And Viktor? He was definitely enjoying this far too much.

VANDER

The first time Y/N waltzed into The Last Drop with a mountain of fur trailing behind her, everyone assumed she’d brought a bear into the bar. The sheer size of the beast alone made Mylo shriek and scramble onto a table, clutching his drink like it was his last lifeline. Claggor, ever the level-headed one, simply blinked in astonishment, while Vi and Powder immediately rushed over to the dog with stars in their eyes.

“Christ love, what the hell is that?” Vander had asked, arms crossed, eyebrow arched as he took in the massive St. Bernard panting happily at her side.

She grinned, scratching behind the dog’s ear. “This? This is Vander.”

Vander blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Meet Vander.”

Silence.

Then Powder gasped. “She named him after you! Oh my gods, she thinks you look like a dog!”

Y/N snickered as the kids erupted into laughter. Vander pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh, muttering something about 'not getting paid enough for this,' despite the fact that he didn’t get paid at all.

From that day on, the beast—Vander the dog—became a permanent fixture at The Last Drop. He would amble behind the bar and flop down with a heavy thud, taking up an alarming amount of space. Vi often used him as a pillow, Powder climbed all over him, and even Mylo begrudgingly warmed up to the enormous canine (after realising Vander the dog wasn’t, in fact, out to eat him).

=

Powder, however, took things a step further. She didn’t just climb on Vander—she practically lived on him. If she wasn’t sitting on his back while he walked around, she was draped over him like a particularly lazy cat. Sometimes, she’d ride him through the bar like a horse, giggling as he lumbered along, completely unbothered. She even tried tying little ribbons in his fur at one point, though Vander (the man) put his foot down when he saw the dog parading around with bright pink bows on his ears.

“Powder, get off him,” Vi groaned one evening as Vander the dog ambled past, Powder sitting proudly on his back like she was the queen of The Last Drop.

“But he doesn’t mind!” Powder protested, wrapping her arms around the dog’s thick neck. “Do ya, big guy?”

Vander the dog huffed in amusement, his tail wagging slightly.

Human Vander shot Y/N a look. “You’re letting this happen?”

She shrugged. “He likes it. Besides, it's free entertainment.”

=

The only problem? Every time Y/N called for her dog, chaos ensued.

“Vander! Come here, boy!”

Two heads turned. The dog’s and the man’s.

Y/N bit back a grin as she watched them both react simultaneously. The dog perked up, tongue lolling, and trotted towards her eagerly. The man, on the other hand, groaned and shot her a look. “Really?”

She shrugged, completely unapologetic. “What? You do kinda look alike.”

More than once, it led to absolute confusion. Like when Powder excitedly shouted, “Vander, wanna treat?” and both Vanders turned to her with equal enthusiasm. Or when Y/N would scold, “Vander, get your ass off the floor!” and human Vander grumbled, “I AM standing up,” while the dog remained unbothered, snoring at her feet.

The worst, however, was when Y/N, exhausted from a long day, absentmindedly muttered, “Good boy,” while patting the dog’s head—only to look up and see human Vander standing there with an unreadable expression.

“Uh—”

“Y’know what? Not even gonna ask,” Vander said, shaking his head before grabbing a pint. “I need a drink.”

Despite all the mix-ups, Vander the man and Vander the dog had an unspoken understanding. The dog was his unofficial replacement whenever he was busy, acting as a very fluffy bouncer when needed. And in return, Vander (the man) made sure the dog had the best scraps from the bar. More than once, Y/N had caught him sneaking the beast a particularly large cut of meat, muttering, "Don’t tell anyone, big guy."

As much as Vander (the man) would complain, Y/N knew he secretly loved the giant fluffball. Because, at the end of the day, she often caught him sneaking the dog extra treats or murmuring, “Good boy,” when he thought no one was looking.

And if Vander (the man) would grumble when the dog responded faster to his name than he did, well… that was just a bonus.

SILCO

"You what?" Silco's voice was flat, but there was a hint of trepidation beneath it.

"I need you to watch Goliath for a few hours." Y/N stood in front of his desk, arms crossed in a way that left little room for argument.

Silco pinched the bridge of his nose. "And why, exactly, am I—crime lord of Zaun, mastermind of an entire revolution—reduced to a dog sitter?"

"Because you're the only one I trust with him."

Silco narrowed his eyes. "I highly doubt that."

"Also because Sevika said, and I quote, ‘I’d rather risk being blew up my Jinx than deal with that overgrown mutt again.’"

Silco turned his gaze to Sevika, who merely took a swig of her drink and grumbled, "Thing nearly sat on my lungs last time. Couldn’t breathe for five minutes."

Silco sighed, waving a dismissive hand. "Fine. But if he eats anything valuable, you’re replacing it."

Y/N beamed. "You’re the best!" With that, she whistled, and a low rumbling growl preceded the appearance of Goliath—a Bernese Mountain Dog of utterly ridiculous proportions.

Thick, glossy black fur with rust and white patches made him look even larger as he lumbered into the room. His huge paws clicked against the floor, and his golden-brown eyes gleamed with excitement as he made a beeline for Silco.

The crime lord tensed. "That is not a dog. That is a bear."

Goliath panted happily, his fluffy tail wagging as he sniffed at Silco’s coat before promptly leaning against him.

"Good luck!" Y/N called over her shoulder as she made a swift exit, leaving Silco alone with the beast.

=

Two Hours Later

Silco was mid-conversation with Sevika, poring over a map of Zaun when he felt it.

A weight. A considerable weight.

At first, it was just a slight pressure against his legs, then a shift of movement. Then—

He glanced down.

Goliath—all 55 kilograms of him—was slowly crawling into his lap.

Silco's lips parted in silent disbelief. "…Is he—?"

Sevika’s eyebrow twitched. "Uh, boss?"

Silco remained utterly still as the massive dog wiggled his way into position, draping his front paws over Silco’s legs, his broad head resting against the crime lord’s chest.

The sheer force of the dog’s weight nearly tipped Silco’s chair back. A very real fear of toppling over and dying beneath a mountain of fur hit him.

"Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath.

Sevika, to her credit, was trying very hard not to laugh, but her shoulders were shaking.

Silco glared at her. "Say a word, and you lose another limb."

"Not sayin’ a word," she muttered, her smirk betraying her amusement.

With painstaking slowness, Silco tried to shift the dog’s weight, only for Goliath to release a deep, satisfied sigh and settle in even more.

Sevika let out a sharp snort. "Boss, I think he’s claiming you."

"He is smothering me," Silco deadpanned.

"Same thing."

"Am I the mountain in this scenario?" Silco muttered to himself, exasperated. "Because he is certainly climbing me like one."

Goliath let out a deep huff and burrowed his face into Silco’s coat, completely oblivious to the crime lord’s suffering.

Sevika completely lost it. She threw her head back, laughing in a way Silco rarely heard. "He likes you, boss!"

Silco leaned around the massive dog to fix her with a flat stare. "That is not reassuring."

At that exact moment, the door swung open, and Y/N stepped inside, taking in the sight before her—

Silco, half-buried under Goliath, looking utterly done. Sevika, doubled over in laughter.

Y/N grinned. "Aww, he chose you!"

Silco slowly turned his exhausted, soul-deep stare on her. "Take. Your. Dog."

Y/N only snorted, reaching out to scratch behind Goliath’s ears. "You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?"

Goliath thumped his tail, utterly unbothered.

Sevika grinned. "So, boss, what’s next? You taking him on walks? Maybe getting him a matching coat?"

Silco let out a long, suffering sigh. "I’m never forgiving you for this, Y/N."

Y/N, still grinning, scooped Goliath off him—though it took considerable effort. "I knew you'd be fine."

Silco muttered something about putting a bounty on his own head, while Sevika wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling.

=

The Next Morning

Y/N knocked on Silco’s office door, a bright smile on her face. "Hey, Silco, I need another favour—"

The door creaked open just a fraction.

Silco’s mismatched eyes met hers through the gap, dark circles underlining his exhaustion.

His voice was flat. "No."

The door shut.

Y/N blinked. Then she looked down at Goliath, who panted happily beside her.

"You really did a number on him, huh?"

Goliath wagged his tail, looking far too pleased with himself.

JINX/POWDER

/N sat on the worn leather couch, the rhythmic motion of her sewing machine filling the room with a steady hum as she worked on patching up one of Jinx's pants. The soft flicker of the lamp above cast a warm glow across the space, contrasting the chilly air that had settled into the small room. But it wasn’t the lamp's glow that kept her attention. It was the large, powerful figure of Thor, the Alaskan Malamute, who lay sprawled out beside her. His thick, snowy fur was tousled in places from the day’s adventures, and his calm, steady gaze rested on her as she worked. Thor’s size was impossible to ignore, yet his presence was so gentle, so comforting. He had become a quiet anchor in her life, always nearby when she needed him most, just as he had always been for the kids.

The sound of scuffling boots approached the door, followed by a voice that immediately lifted the atmosphere in the room.

“Y/N! Is Thor in there?” Jinx’s voice rang out, full of energy and excitement. Her high-pitched, almost sing-song tone was unmistakable. A wild grin appeared in the doorway as she bounced in, a whirlwind of unpredictable energy. Her wide blue eyes locked onto the massive dog, and without missing a beat, she practically flew towards him.

“Thor!” Jinx squealed, her voice full of pure joy.

Thor, ever the gentle giant, stood from his resting place with slow grace, his massive paws thudding softly on the floor. His wide, expressive eyes softened as they found Jinx. She didn’t even wait for him to fully stand before she threw herself at him. The moment her arms wrapped around his thick neck, Thor’s tail began to wag, creating a low thrum in the room as it hit the floor.

“Who’s my good boy, huh?” Jinx cooed, her face practically buried in his fur. She pressed her cheek against his massive, soft coat, laughing as she felt the warmth of his body radiate against hers. The Malamute’s thick, plush fur seemed to absorb all of her chaos and return it with unwavering affection.

Y/N smiled softly as she watched them. It always amazed her how easily Jinx, with her unpredictable and fiery personality, had found such a calm, soothing companion in Thor. There was a bond between them, one that was built on trust and the kind of wild, unconditional love that only an animal like Thor could offer.

“You two are inseparable, aren’t you?” Y/N mused, pausing her work for a moment, her hands resting on the worn fabric of the jacket. She looked over at the pair, her lips curving into a fond smile as Jinx continued to giggle, curling herself up against Thor’s enormous frame. The dog’s thick tail thumped the ground in approval, his dark eyes soft and relaxed.

“Yeah! He’s like... my giant fuzzy teddy bear!” Jinx exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement. Thor seemed content to just let her cling to him, his massive body completely still as he absorbed the affection.

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle. The dog was built like a powerhouse—strong, robust, and as imposing as any beast could be. Yet, he was as patient and tender as a pup when it came to Jinx. There was something about him that grounded her. Perhaps it was his quiet, steady presence, or maybe it was his ability to see past the chaos of her nature and simply offer her a moment of peace.

After a few moments, Jinx’s face lit up again.

“Hey, Y/N, can I take him out for a walk? Please?” she asked, her eyes wide and filled with innocent pleading. “I promise I won’t make him run too fast. He deserves a little freedom, right?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. “You know how strong he is, Jinx,” she warned gently, knowing well how hard it could be for anyone to keep up with Thor when he was on a roll. “Don’t let him drag you around, alright? And don’t go anywhere too dangerous.”

Jinx pouted playfully, giving Y/N her most exaggerated, pleading expression. “I’ll be fine! Thor and I are practically invincible together!” she declared, already bounding towards the door, grabbing his leash.

Thor’s large, dark eyes shifted from Jinx to Y/N before he bounded towards the door, his powerful frame moving with an energy that surprised anyone who didn’t know him well. Jinx was already tugging at the leash, practically bouncing with excitement.

“Alright, alright,” Y/N said, shaking her head with a smile as she watched them head out. “Just... don’t let him get too carried away.” She stood up and followed them to the door, a look of playful concern crossing her face.

As Jinx led Thor out into the crisp air, Y/N couldn’t help but smile, watching them disappear into the street. It was moments like these—quiet moments of calm after chaos—that reminded her how much Jinx had grown and how she had come to find her own sense of peace, even if it was in the form of a giant, affectionate dog. Thor was her companion, her protector, her furry confidante—and Y/N knew that, with him by her side, Jinx had a little piece of comfort, just like everyone else who had come to love the big dog.

Y/N returned to the couch, picking up her sewing once more, the gentle sound of the machine filling the room again. Despite the temporary stillness in the house, she knew that in their own way, they were all home.

[steveseddie]

‘cause it’s you and me

rating: g | cw: none | wc: 1,9 k | tags: eddie lives, hospitals and injury recovery, steve has a crush, he also knows how to play guitar, fluff

written for @steddielovemonth day one | You and Me by Lifehouse & the quote “every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet.”

read on ao3

Steve doesn’t know how much time he’s spent on the chair that is next to Eddie’s hospital bed.

Too long probably, if the recurrent pain on his back means anything. But not even that is enough to prevent Steve from staying glued to that chair, neither are the doctor’s mean looks or Robin’s insistence about him getting proper sleep or meals for that matter. Steve only leaves the chair when he has a shift or when he wants Wayne to have time alone with his nephew or when the nurses wheel Eddie away for surgery or tests or physical therapy. That’s it.

It makes the months that Eddie spends recovering blur together. Sometimes, Steve even forgets what day it is, only managing to keep track of it by the nurse’s schedule or depending on who shows up to visit Eddie. The kids and Wayne and Robin all come on different days, effectively balancing keeping their friend company with their everyday lives.

All of them except Steve.

Ever since Spring Break, it’s been Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Find Eddie. Get Eddie’s heart beating again. Drag Eddie out of the Upside Down. Pray that Eddie makes it out of surgery. Wait for Eddie to wake up. Comfort Eddie when he’s in pain. Take Eddie’s mind off of the murder charges that haven’t been dropped yet or the loss of their trailer or the long hours of physical therapy ahead of him. Listen to Eddie ramble on the days that he feels better about books and music and Dungeons and Dragons. Watch Eddie sleep and only then try to get a little sleep himself.

The last one might sound a little creepy but Steve thinks it’s justified considering he still can’t forget how Eddie looked when they found him– pale, bloody, dead. Watching him sleep, his chest rising and falling slowly but steadily is the only thing that calms Steve enough for him to doze off in that damn uncomfortable chair.

Only at some point it stops being entirely about making sure that Eddie is alive– the staring. Suddenly, Steve can’t keep his eyes off of Eddie at all times.

Steve stares at his face while Eddie reads a book to him out loud and forgets to pay attention to what he’s saying. He stares at Eddie’s hands while he explains something to the kids and completely miss a question from Henderson. He stares at his mouth while Eddie slurps the extra jello cup that Robin sneaked in past the nurses and blush when she catches him and smirks knowingly at him.

It takes Steve some time to figure out why he looks at Eddie so much, obvious as it is, and when he finally does he actually leaves his chair and heads to the bathroom for a proper floor freak out.

He just doesn’t know what to do with these feelings for Eddie or where to go from there so he just– doesn’t do anything.

And things stay the same.

Except for the way Eddie keeps getting better.

The doctors are so optimistic that they announce that Eddie might get to go home soon. They have him doing laps around the hospital and start slowly tapering off his pain meds and encouraging him to pick back up things he used to do like writing and playing guitar to work on his dexterity, they said.

It’s why Eddie starts writing down plans and ideas for future dork campaigns again and why Wayne brings his sweetheart to the hospital.

(Eddie almost cried when he saw it, making grabby hands and hugging it against his chest with a happy sigh.

“I swear you’re happier to see that thing more than you’ve ever been to see me,” Steve muttered through pursed lips.

“Steve, don’t call her a thing! She can hear you!” Eddie protested, appalled. Which wasn’t a no but at least later he tells Steve that there’s enough room in his heart for two sweethearts.)

It’s not like Eddie goes back to being a rock god on the guitar right away and his writing is intelligible more often than not, but none of that stops him. He keeps trying, keeps practicing, and Steve loves him more and more for it.

Yes. Love. The first time the word pops up in Steve’s head it leads to yet another bathroom floor freak out but once he realizes it, he has to bite his tongue to stop himself from blurting it out several times a day.

He’s doing it right now while watching Eddie excitedly write down a D&D character sheet for him with his tongue poking out adorably between his lips, tempting Steve to lean in and kiss them. So when a nurse interrupts them to take Eddie away for some test, he appreciates the short break.

When he’s alone, Steve reaches for the notebook that Eddie left on the bed. It’s off limits for any of the kids, but Eddie has let Steve peek at it before. He doesn’t think he’ll mind.

He reads his character sheet, recognizing some of the nerdy words while others fly completely over his head. Then he leafs lazily through pages of notes and doodles until he pauses at what looks like an unfinished song, fragments of lyrics and melodies written messily over the page.

Steve sends a sidelong glance to Eddie’s guitar where it’s leaning against the wall.

He’s never told anyone but he took some guitar lessons back when he started high school, hoping that playing an instrument would help get him girls. He knows how to read music and can fumble his way through a few simple songs, but he never made it past that. It seemed useless when he already had Nancy, and then when he didn’t have her anymore, he had the kids and the Upside Down and playing guitar didn’t seem like a useful skill to have when fighting monsters.

He chuckles. “Guess I was wrong,” he mutters to himself, thinking about Eddie saving the world with a Metallica song of all things.

Without giving it much thought, Steve stands up and carefully grabs the guitar, bringing it back with him to the chair and resting it on his leg, Eddie’s notebook open on the bed in front of him.

He clumsily places his fingers on the fretboard and tries to play the melody that Eddie wrote down. He messes up a few notes, but for someone who hasn’t touched a guitar in years he thinks he plays it decently enough. Eddie would surely do a better job, but it still doesn’t sound half bad. Maybe he can ask Eddie for help to improve and–

“What are you doing?” Eddie’s voice breaks through the melody. His fingers slip and the guitar makes a loud, screechy sound that makes Steve wince.

He whirls around and finds Eddie staring at him from the door, his face unreadable.

Steve gulps, his cheeks pinking up at being caught. “Playing guitar?”

Eddie’s eyebrows knit together. “Since when do you know how?”

“I– uh, I took lessons years ago but I stopped,” he says, tripping on his words. “I– I found your– your song and I was trying to play it–”

Eddie’s eyes dart to the notebook on the bed. Steve winces again, worrying that Eddie will get mad because he went through his things or because he touched his sweetheart.

“That sounds nothing like what I wrote.”

Or because he butchered his song.

Steve blushes brighter, reaching for the notebook and fumbling to close it. “Sorry, I– it’s been a while and I was never that good to begin with.”

With three long strides –and a lot less limping than a month ago, Steve proudly notices– Eddie reaches his side and snatches the notebook from Steve’s hands.

“Give me that!” He says, flopping down on the bed and flicking furiously through the pages, his face pinched.

“Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry, I– I didn’t think you’d be mad–”

“You bet I’m mad!” Eddie says with a huff, patting the bed sheets, trying to find something.

Steve shrinks down on the chair. “I– I think I’m gonna go–” he says, pushing himself to his feet. Better to leave now before Eddie finds whatever he’s looking for and throws it at his head.

“Aha!” Eddie gasps, holding up his pen. Then he notices Steve standing awkwardly and frowns at him. “Wait, what? No, stay. Play it again.”

Steve blinks down at him. “What?”

“The song!” Eddie urges him but his voice is soft, gentle. “Play it again, Stevie, please.”

Stevie. Please. He’s not mad.

“What?”

Eddie heaves out a sigh, but it comes across as fond. “Dude, I’ve been trying to figure out the right melody for that song for like, half a year!” He says, shaking his notebook aggressively. A few pages fall off, but he pays them no mind. “But I just couldn’t get it fucking right, there was always something missing! And it was whatever you were doing when I walked in!”

“So you’re not mad at me?”

“Not at you, Stevie, no,” Eddie chuckles. “Just mad that it was you who figured it out with your secret magic guitar skills and not me.”

“Oh,” Steve says, and he can’t help but let out a chuckle himself. “So you want me to do it again?”

Eddie nods enthusiastically and that’s enough to make Steve flop back down on the chair, propping the guitar on his legs and doing his best to play the song like he did before.

He must get it right because Eddie lets out an adorable squeal before using his pen to cross out something and write down whatever Steve accidentally came up with.

“Goddamn, sweetheart, I’m gonna have to dedicate this song to you now as a thank you,” Eddie says, grinning so wide at his notebook that it shows off his dimples.

Steve hangs a hand from his neck. It feels hot to the touch, probably from the pet name. “Too bad it’s a love song,” he jokes weakly, even if he wants nothing more than for Eddie’s words to be about him.

Eddie glances up, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. “I know,” he says softly, his eyes flickering nervously over Steve’s face.

Oh. Oh.

Stomach fluttering with butterflies, Steve stands up, grabbing the guitar by its neck to prop it up against the wall.

“Uh, you– are you leaving?” Eddie asks, chewing anxiously on his pen as he watches Steve move around silently. Little does he know that his heart is currently screaming at him to gently tackle Eddie into the bed.

But first–

“Just making sure your guitar is safe before I go over there and kiss you, Eds,” he says, the corners of his mouth ticking up when Eddie squeaks again, his eyes widening.

“Oh, o–okay. That’s smart. Yup,” he stammers out, his voice an octave higher, his cheeks pinking up. “Does that mean you also–”

“Feel that way about you?” Steve asks, sitting on the bed next to Eddie, who nods expectantly. Steve reaches out and tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. “Yeah, Eddie, I do.”

When Steve leans in and finally, finally kisses him, Eddie lets his notebook fall to the floor so he can grab Steve’s shoulders. The urgency to write down that perfect melody now replaced by an urgency for Steve.

But it doesn’t matter, Steve thinks that melody is now seared into both of their memories forever, as is their first kiss. The first of many.

[staryscorner]

When they see that you've been Sh

Warning: Mention of blood and self h@rm/cvtt!ng

Characters: Gyeong seok, Jung bae, Jun ho, The Salesman, Sae byeok- 

Pt1 | Pt2

Gyeong seok- 

Since moving in with Gyeong seok life has gotten a bit tougher for you; having way more responsibilities than what you’re used to, especially now since you have a cute step daughter who you love with all your heart, but it was something completely new and you thought you were doing a bad job. So to relieve some of the worries you began to sh. The pain washed the worries away. Then one day when you were playing with Na-Yeon your sleeves went up a bit and she had notices come red marks on your skin.

“Mama what’s that?” she said pointing at your arms.

You put your hands behind your back 

“It's nothing sweetheart I just got a little boo boo just dont tell daddy ok?”

She just nodded and continued to play with her toys.

The next day it was Gyeong seok’s turn to take Na-Yeon to school. 

While he was in a small conversation with her a cat appeared in front of her and she began to pet it and said.

“Papa, Mama said to keep this a secret but imma tell you. She had red marks on her arms. It looked like a kitty gave her a boo boo.

After hearing those words Gyeong seok knew that something was wrong. After dropping his daughter off he ran home to see if what he thought was true.

You were cooking dinner and suddenly someone barged into the front door.

“Let me see your arms”

“Why do you need to see my arms”

“Just show them to me.” He said in a stern voice.

You had no other choice but to show him

“Why are you doing this!?”

“Well I thought you might not want to be with me anymore if I was a bad mother so to cope I began to do this” You said almost whispering

“Why would I ever leave you for that reason? I married you for a reason because you're perfect in my eyes. I'm also learning to be a father and loving husband everyday so don't think you're going through all of this alone.” He said as he held you in a long embrace.

You were in his arms crying like a baby 

“I love you” He whispered in your ear

“I love you too”

Jung bae- 

Although he’s always bubbly there's a serious side that would show at times and that time was now. He accidentally came into to the room as you were getting dressed and saw your bruised body 

“Y/N! WHO HIT YOU”

You looked at him standing at the door and realized that you forgot to lock it. He came in and sat next to you as he asked to see the bruises on your body.

“I did this to myself” you looked down feeling ashamed of saying it out loud.

He looked at you the brave person he had met was now a shell of their former self

“I want to help you so please don't do this to yourself because when you hurt yourself you hurt me as well.

He then helped you finish getting dressed and soon made you dinner before you both cuddled to sleep.

Jun ho- 

He knew something was wrong (he’s literally a cop) so when you started to wear long baggy shirts he had to find out what was going on.

So he asked you one day out of nowhere if you wanted to go on a vacation. He never told you where but he did say it would be a surprise. So after the long car ride you woke to the smell of the ocean and the sun beaming on you. You used to love the beach but now It was your worst fear.

He led you to the beach house that his family owned and after bringing all the louage in it was finally time to head to the beach. As he was waiting for you to come out of the bathroom he wondered if he was maybe overthinking things. When he heard the door creak you still had a baggy shirt over your bathing suit.

“Aren't you going to go into the water?” 

“Well um maybe not this time.” you said

“But you love going into the beach just take you have your bathing suit under right so just take it off”

As he was playfully lifting up your shirt he saw multiple cuts on from your stomach to your chest. You quickly pulled it down and just looked down.

“Is that the reason why you didn't want to go in… Babe, why didn't you tell me sooner.”

“Well…. because you have work and you seem to be busy”

“But I always have time for you. You mean everything to me and I want you to rely on me.”

“How about we get those bandaged up and later we can go out and have a dinner date near the beach.” He said wanting to make it up to you.

“I’d love that” You said giving him a kiss”

The Salesman- 

He loves to see the blood of his enemies fall, but not you he cares so much for you. He noticed that there would be blood drops on the bathroom floor which made him install hidden cameras in the house. When he would go back to check them he would see you enter the bathroom and come out after a few minutes with bandages all over your legs and arms. 

So on the day’s that you're not home he looks all over the house finding all the hidden blades and would slowly start removing them one by one until there was none. He even removed anything else that could be used. He even came home sooner so he could keep you company in the evening.

“What are you doing so early here”

“I just wanted to spend more time with you honey~” 

Without you realizing it you had stopped and it was now a thing of the past.

Sae byeok- 

She took it the hardest. Having someone that she loved dearly being in pain hurt her so much.

When she first saw the cuts and scars on your body she was mad, not at you but at herself for not knowing sooner. 

“I’m so sorry babe, how can I even call myself your girlfriend if I can't even protect you”

She kept apologizing non stop. You didn't want to see her like this. She was such a fearless woman and she was blaming herself for something that you did to yourself, it felt like a dagger to the heart.

You kneeled down and cupped her face with your hands

“Hey! Please don't blame yourself for this.”

After saying that you got up and went to your shared bedroom and grabbed all the blades and brought them to where she is and you just threw them straight into the trash can. I don't want you to suffer for something that I did so please stop apologizing.”

You then went down and kissed her forehead. “I promise I'll stop this…for you.”

Hear is pt2!!! =^▿^= If you have any other characters you guys want please suggest them!! :3

[yunholic-jongholic]

Over the Edge | S.MG x Reader

SUMMARY | You relentlessly go down on Mingi, pushing him to the edge of overstimulation as he begs you to stop, but you refuse to let up until you're fully satisfied.

PAIRINGS | Mingi x Fem!Reader

RATING | Mature, 18+, NSFW, MDNI!!!

CONTENT WARNINGS | One Shot, Smut without Plot, SMUT, NSFW, Explicit Content, Oral Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Bondage Kink, Cum-eating, Begging. (Sorry if I missed some, I usually write these AFTER the story is finished and I forget some...)

WORD COUNT | 1.1k

AUTHOR NOTE | This was recommended by one of my mingi-ult bffs :] She helped me with this one. I have been on a roll recently, so you WILL see a lot of me now since I find comfort doing these stories!

•

After a long day at work, you finally stepped through the door, feeling exhausted. From the room, you could hear your boyfriend, Mingi, engrossed in some anime show. Needing a quick boost of energy, you headed to the kitchen, grabbing a granola bar from the pantry to tide you over. You decided to head to the room where Mingi was watching his show and sat down beside him. He welcomes you in smiling at you.

"How was your day?" Mingi asks, glancing at you as you plop down beside him with a sigh. "Not very good," you admit, your voice soft, "but I just needed to be with you." Slowly, you slide onto his lap, laying across him and cuddling into his chest, seeking the comfort only he could provide. You watched the show with him as he wrapped his arms around you.

"Want to take a nap with me?" you hum softly, gently caressing Mingi's arm. He looks down at you and nods with a small smile. Turning off the TV, he adjusts his position, wrapping himself around you, spooning you tightly as he throws the covers over both of you, his warmth instantly soothing you.

Mingi is the first to drift off, his breathing steady and peaceful against your back. Though sleep eludes you, you still feel completely at ease wrapped in his arms, his warmth and presence providing all the comfort you need. That's when you get the idea to wake him up, but you wait for 30 minutes to pass to do your plan.

After 30 minutes of lying awake, you finally sit up carefully, trying not to disturb Mingi. He stirs slightly, shifting onto his back, his peaceful expression unchanged. You gently pull the blanket off him, pushing it toward the corner of the bed, watching him as he sleeps soundly. You softly touch his thigh and move upwards closer to his crouch. You softly slid your hand over unzipping his pants and pulling his length out. Mingi shifts again and you stop in your tracks before continuing once he becomes peacefully still again.

You softly rub the base with your thumb almost caressing it softly. You hear Mingi let out a soft moan in his sleep and you start feeling his cock grow hard in your hand. Your eyes watch as he turns his head to the side and moans more.

"Ugh, he’s so cute…" you whisper softly to yourself, unable to resist. Leaning down, you press your lips to the tip of his cock, giving it a gentle lick. The taste of his precum lingers as Mingi suddenly stirs awake, his face flushing bright red when he realizes what’s happening.

"Y/N?!" Mingi jolts upright, his voice laced with shock and embarrassment. You pull back momentarily, offering a sheepish explanation. He sighs, running a hand through his hair, still blushing furiously.

"Well… I’m already hard," he mumbles, avoiding your gaze for a moment before meeting your eyes. "You might as well continue. Unless…" He pauses, his voice growing quieter but heavier with intent. "You’d rather have me fuck you?"

"I kind of want to do all the work—it helps me wake up," you say with a playful smile before lowering yourself back down, fully wrapping your lips around his shaft. Mingi lets out a low groan, his body tensing slightly at the sensation of your mouth on him again. The warmth of your touch and the way you were determined yet struggling to take all of him was already driving him wild. His fingers grip the sheets as he watches you, the sight alone enough to push him closer to the edge.

"Fuck." Mingi curses running his fingers onto your head pulling your hair up to grip it together. He starts thrusting upwards wanting you to take him deeper. You pull away and he whines at the loss of your touch.

"Please Y/N..." Mingi begs you to continue. You call him cute, but you get up and grab one of his ties and wrap it around his wrists and tie him to the bedframe. Mingi whines at you as he is now restrained. You smirk at his struggling and go back down on him attaching you lips back to his cock. You watch his reactions as you keep sucking him off. Mingi has his head turned back, eyes closed, biting his lip and grinding upwards to hit the back of your throat.

"I'm so close." Mingi moaned thrusting sloppy into the back of your throat causing you to slightly gag. You felt his member twitch and you pulled your head back as you continued to stroke his cock. Mingi became a mess as he came onto your hand.

"Fuck..." He cursed again legs trembling a tiny bit. You smiled at him rubbing the tip with your thumb. Mingi started panting heavily trying to catch his breath, his cock was twitching in overstimulation.

"Please... I don't think I can do another one." Mingi whimpered at you, and you smirked kissing his shaft. "Well, I can, and I am the one in charge tonight." You gave a small kitten lick over the tip before taking it back into your mouth. You felt him twitch more in your mouth causing him to moan and whine at the feeling.

"You are so noisy." You continued to work on Mingi, swirling your tongue over the shaft as you kept taking him in. You both were a complete mess, moaning, groaning, sloppy sounds. You were destroying Mingi, doing all the work and causing him to come undone beneath you.

"Y/N... Please!" Mingi was almost near crying out, throwing his head back and arching his back. Not even a few minutes in and he was already thrusting into your throat moaning and cumming once again, this time in your mouth. You sighed popping him out of your mouth, looking at Mingi who was panting and completely weak to even move.

"You taste good." You smirk and giggle at his reaction to you completely making a mess of him. Mingi pants heavily, you kiss his cheek and untie him as you whisper in his ear, "so are you ready for me to ride you now?" You slowly take off your underwear feeling how completely soaked they are. He looks into your eyes worried that you might kill him. Of course, you won't really but that's not how it looks to him.

"Can we take a break? I need a nap if we plan to do more..." Mingi pouts at you and you just smile telling him you still needed to be pleased, and this is the only way. Mingi just stared at you and sat up feeling extremely exhausted. "Should have revaluated my choices of picking you at the club when we first met..." He teased murmuring to himself. You rolled your eyes and went to kiss him. "Well, there is no refunds or returns." You kiss his lips holding yourself against him.

•

Thank you for reading! I didn't do much editing on this one and it was slightly rushed since my Mingki wifey wanted it done LMAO. Anyways hope y'all enjoyed! :>

[lucysarah-c]

I'll just say, I may be here posting about Mounting Spring, asks etc... But I'm cooking... I'm cooking something everyone asked me for lol

“I like this! This 3D flower pattern is so on trend right now.”

Levi’s eyes were glued to the screen as a freshly painted nail was shown up close.

“Oh, hi! Thank you,” her voice popped up again, and like an animal in pure confusion, he tilted his head to the side.

What are those things popping up? He was completely lost.

“Isn’t it too late for coffee?” she read aloud before grabbing her cup and taking a sip from the straw. “There’s no such thing as too much black or too late for coffee. Plus, it’s girls’ night! What’s a girls’ night without iced coffee or a glass of wine?”

This feels wrong now, Levi thought, taking a sip of his own drink, lazily sprawled on his bed. But when she started showing off her pajamas, that’s when he lost it.

Holy shit... it’s the little shorts doing it for me.

“This is why kids these days have their eyes glued to this shit,” he muttered, almost offended— as if his own mouth wasn’t slightly open and his eyes weren’t stuck to the screen as she vibed to the song playing in the background.

“Have you ever tried… this one?” She winked at the camera, arm in the air, hips moving in a way that Levi quickly guessed was meant to simulate riding. Over the kitchen island.

…I’m definitely not better than a 12-year-old boy.

The chat flooded with messages about how much they loved the song.

Whose song is this?

“Oh! I love that! Ugh, my heart is divided, I want all of them to win! Birds of a Feather is so good, but Hot to Go?” she gushed, listing more names Levi didn’t recognize.

Who are those?

“And the dance?”

What trend? What song? What dance?

Levi felt lost. Completely lost.

“Oh, thank you for the donation! Here, a heart for you!”

She pressed two fingers together in the shape of a heart. Levi tilted his head again, frowning.

How the hell is that a heart?

But before he could keep questioning his entire existence—or, perhaps, his age—her expression shifted. The usual bright smile faded as she read something from the chat.

“Look, if you’ve got a problem with me, just keep scrolling, buddy. Can an admin ban him from the stream, please?”

That made Levi do the exact opposite. He scrolled up through the rapidly moving chat until he found the comment in question. Some idiot had said she owed it to him if something happened because of what she was wearing and doing on screen.

“What’s your fucking problem, dude?” Levi whispered, clicking his tongue. “If a woman has never even touched you, don’t say it so loudly.”

His fingers moved on their own, pressing the guy’s username, looking for a way to reply—until he suddenly let the phone drop onto his chest and stared at the ceiling.

“I need to calm down,” he muttered. Being in this live stream was already too much for him. Getting into an online argument was not the way to go.

How long had he been watching? He wasn’t sure. But in that time, he’d learned that ASMR meant tapping on objects with freshly done nails and whispering, that people voted on live which designs she should do next, and… a whole lot more.

“Say you can’t sleep, baby, I know. That’s me, espresso…”

She sang along to the music, and he felt hypnotized.

“…Did I just spend two hours of my life on this?”

The “Love ya!” came through the speakers as she blew a final kiss before ending the live.

“For fuck’s sake…” Levi muttered, almost offended. “You can’t be that stupidly cute.”

Maybe pop songs were popular for a reason. Maybe that’s why Levi never downloaded any apps on his phone or used it for anything beyond strictly necessary texts. Because explain to him why the hell he was humming at work.

“Since when do you know Sabrina Carpenter?”

Hange appeared out of nowhere, catching him off guard.

Levi had to come up with an excuse. Fast.

“What? Is it illegal for me to know new songs?”

“No…” Hange dragged the word out, squinting at him in suspicion. “But since when do you?”

“Give me a break. I’m not that old. I can get to know new artists,” he brushed it off while brewing himself a tea.

Hange let it slide, but their mind was already working, scheming. They kept talking, mostly about work. But as Levi finished his tea and was ready to leave, Hange casually dropped:

“Espresso?”

Levi frowned. “What?”

Hange repeated the question immediately, as if he hadn’t heard them the first time. But of course, he had.

“Fuck no. You know I hate coffee. Black tea,” he grumbled.

To his shock, Hange chuckled, shaking their head, biting their lip as they held back a knowing smile.

“Aww, Shortie… don’t give yourself away.”

“Huh?”

“Espresso. That’s the song you were humming.” Their grin widened. “I’m starting to think you’re not just listening to new artists—you’re watching new people.”

Levi stiffened.

And for the first time, he couldn’t hide the subtle embarrassed blush creeping up his face.

“Get off my ass,” he muttered, already walking away.

But Hange wasn’t done.

“And I think it might be Erwin’s cute little influencer friend!”

I won't say anything else, let the readers figure it out.

[crossfandomskylines]

In the Space Between: Chapter 26

OTHER CHAPTERS:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5

Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10

Chapter 11 I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15

Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19 I Chapter 20

Chapter 21 I Chapter 22 I Chapter 23 I Chapter 24 I Chapter 25

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: As Gabby arrives in Austin, excitement and nerves swirl as she prepares to introduce Glen to her father, Mike, and her uncle, Joe. Tensions run high at first with Mike’s protective instincts kicking in, but Glen remains steady under pressure. Over the course of the evening, Mike observes Glen not just through conversation, but through the way he interacts with his family and, most importantly with Gabby. Later, Mike takes Glen aside for the classic "dad talk," testing his intentions and ultimately finding himself surprisingly impressed.

Warnings: Mild Family Tension (Protective Father), Mild Intimidation ("Dad Talk"), Mentions of Grief & Deceased Parent, Mild Alcohol Use (Social Drinking)

Word Count: 4.4k

Gabby stepped off the jet bridge, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder. The warm Texas air hit her as soon as she entered the terminal, a stark contrast to the cooler breeze she’d left behind in Los Angeles that morning. Even though she’d been looking forward to this trip for weeks, a mix of excitement and nerves settled deep in her chest.

She spotted them instantly, first her dad, Mike, standing near the baggage claim with his arms crossed his stance effortlessly exuding protective father energy. Next to him Uncle Joe leaned casually against a pillar scrolling through his phone, completely unbothered.

As soon as Mike saw her, his expression softened. “There’s my girl,” he said, pulling her into a hug that nearly lifted her off her feet.

Gabby laughed, hugging him back. “Missed you too, Dad.”

Joe grinned as he pocketed his phone. “Hey, kiddo.” He leaned in, kissing her temple. “How was the flight?”

“Long,” she admitted. “But worth it.”

Mike raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? And how much of that has to do with seeing us and how much has to do with seeing this guy?”

Gabby sighed. “Here we go.”

Joe chuckled. “Oh, he’s been dying to ask about Glen since we got in the car.”

Mike ignored the comment, picking up her carry on like it weighed nothing. “So, what’s this guy like? Should I be worried?”

Gabby rolled her eyes. “No, you shouldn’t be worried.”

He gave her a look. “That’s exactly what a daughter would say if she didn’t want her dad to be worried.”

Joe shook his head. “Mike, the man flies fighter jets in movies and wears cowboy hats. He’s probably fine.”

Mike grunted. “We’ll see.”

As they started walking toward the exit, Gabby sighed, deciding it was best to get ahead of this now.

“Listen,” she said, looking up at her dad. “Just… be nice, okay? No interrogation, no intimidation. I actually like him, and I don’t need you scaring him off.”

Mike smirked but didn’t make any promises. “I’ve got to make sure this guy is good enough for my little girl. If he can’t handle a little conversation with me than maybe he ain’t the one sweetheart.”

Gabby groaned. “Oh my God, please don’t say things like that when you meet him.”

Joe laughed as he slung an arm around Gabby’s shoulders. “I cannot wait for this.”

The drive out to Glen’s place was filled with long stretches of open land, rolling fields, and the occasional herd of cattle lazily grazing beneath the sun. It was a stark contrast to Los Angeles, and yet, Gabby had grown to love it from just the one other time she’d been here.

She glanced down at her phone, fingers hovering over the screen before finally sending a quick warning text.

Gabby: We’re five minutes out. Please don’t be weird.

The three dots appeared almost immediately.

Glen: Define weird?

She huffed out a laugh, shaking her head.

Gabby: Just be normal. My dad is already skeptical.

Glen: Noted. Normal cowboy mode activated.

She rolled her eyes, slipping her phone into her lap just as the truck turned down the gravel road leading to Glen’s ranch.

As soon as the house came into view, Gabby spotted him. Glen stood on the front step, hands resting in his pockets, watching as they pulled up. Casual but put together in worn jeans, a fitted T-shirt, and boots that had clearly seen a day’s work. His hair was a little messier than usual, the late afternoon light making the golden strands even more noticeable. He looked ridiculously good, and her heart jumped into her throat at the sight of him.

Before Mike had even fully parked, Gabby threw open her door and practically launched herself out of the truck.

“Could’ve waited for me to at least turn it off,” she heard her dad mutter behind her, but she didn’t slow down.

Glen’s grin was instant the second he saw her, his arms open just in time for her to jump into him, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Hey,” she breathed, hands threading through his hair as he caught her effortlessly.

“Hey,” he murmured back, holding her just a little tighter than necessary.

He spun her once before setting her down, but even when her feet touched the ground, he didn’t let go right away. His hands rested on her waist, hers on his chest, their eyes locked.

Gabby barely registered the sound of the truck doors closing behind her. It had been a month since she’d seen him in person which was too long. And judging by the way Glen’s fingers tightened on her hips for just a second, she knew he felt the same.

He tilted his head, dipping slightly not quite kissing her, but hovering close enough that her breath caught. It was a little more than PG, but still okay.

A pointed throat clearing from behind them.

Glen pulled back like he’d just been caught committing a felony. Gabby whipped around, finding her dad standing there, arms crossed, face unreadable. Her uncle, on the other hand, was barely containing his amusement.

Glen recovered quickly, his easy charm slipping back into place as he stepped forward, offering his hand.

“It’s really great to finally meet you, sir.” His tone was polite, confident, but not forced.

Mike took the handshake, firm, unyielding. “We’ll see about that.”

Gabby groaned internally.

Joe, ever the peacemaker, grinned as he shook Glen’s hand next. “Ignore him. He’s just mad Gabby didn’t tell him she was dating a movie star sooner.”

“I wasn’t hiding him,” Gabby defended. “I was just—”

“Delaying the interrogation?” Glen finished for her, smirking slightly.

Mike narrowed his eyes. “Smart man.”

Joe laughed. “Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

Glen didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Gabby’s carry on with one hand and rested his other hand lightly on the small of her back, guiding her up the porch steps.

“Come on in,” he said easily, glancing at Mike and Joe. “Make yourselves at home.”

Inside, the warm scent of home-cooked food filled the air, mixing with the faint crackle of music playing in the background. Gabby instantly recognized the lively hum of conversation. Glen’s family was already here.

As soon as they stepped inside, Cyndy appeared from the kitchen, her face lighting up.

“There she is!” she said warmly, pulling Gabby into a familiar hug.

Gabby sank into it, smiling. “Hi, Cyndy.”

“Glad you made it in okay, sweetheart” Cyndy said before pulling back, giving glen a knowing once-over. “This one’s been counting down the minutes.”

Gabby glanced at Glen, amused as he shook his head. “You didn’t have to tell her that, mom.”

“Sweetheart, you’re not subtle,” Cyndy teased before turning toward Mike and Joe.

“You must be Gabby’s dad,” she said, offering Mike a warm handshake. “Welcome.”

Mike took her hand, nodding. “Thanks for having us.”

“Of course! We’ve heard a lot about you,” Cyndy said with a smile before glancing at Joe. “And you must be the uncle we’ve heard about!”

“Hopefully all good things,” Joe said, grinning as he shook her hand.

Leslie and Lauren entered next, both already smirking.

“Well, well,” Leslie said, arms crossed. “Look who’s back.”

Lauren grinned, nudging Gabby. “Still putting up with our brother I see.”

Leslie turned toward Mike and Joe. “Welcome, y’all. Hope Texas is treating you well.”

Before they could respondGlen’s dad, Glen Sr. stepped forward, offering Mike a firm handshake.

“Good to have y’all here,” he said, his deep Texas drawl evident. “Hope the trip wasn’t too bad.”

Mike met his handshake evenly. “Not bad at all.”

Joe, on the other hand, grinned and clapped Glen Sr. on the back. “I gotta say, I feel like I already like you.”

“Oh?” Glen Sr. raised an eyebrow.

Joe nodded. “Because the second I walked in, your wife hugged my niece like she was already family, and your daughters are roasting your son. Reminds me of what happens when some of our family gets together.”

Leslie smirked. “It’s our love language.”

Glen sighed. “Again, we’re done with that.”

Lauren grinned. “Sure, birthday boy.”

Gabby laughed, feeling a little overwhelmed but in the best way. The Powells were so effortlessly welcoming, loud, and full of energy. Still, she snuck a glance at her dad, wondering how he was taking all of this in.

Mike, to his credit, didn’t seem rattled. But there was a carefulness to his expression, like he was still taking stock of everything.

Glen, sensing the moment, gave a nod toward the hall. “Let me show y’all around.”

He led them through the house, giving them the full rundown.

“This is nice,” Joe said, whistling. “I see why you left LA.”

Glen nodded, hands in his pockets. “Yeah. Always knew I’d come back here.”

The late afternoon had settled into one of those perfect Texas evenings warm but breezy, the kind that made you want to sit outside for hours. As the group stepped onto the deck, the scent of smoked barbecue lingered in the air, mixing with the laughter and easy conversation of Glen’s family and friends.

A few people were already gathered some of Glen’s childhood friends, a couple of his college friends, and even a few Gabby recognized from L.A. all blending seamlessly with his family.

Glen Sr. had already settled into one of the Adirondack chairs, bourbon in hand, looking completely at ease. When he saw Mike and Joe, he gestured toward the open seats nearby.

“Y’all drink bourbon?”

Joe grinned. “Is that even a real question?”

Glen Sr. chuckled and leaned forward, grabbing a bottle from the small table beside him. The label was slightly worn, the kind of bottle that had been aged and saved for special occasions. He poured three glasses neat and handed them over.

Mike took his glass, hesitating for half a second before nodding in approval. “Alright. Let’s see what Texas has to offer.”

Glen Sr. smirked. “Careful now. This one’s got a bite.”

They clinked glasses, and Gabby watched in mild disbelief as her dad took a sip, let it sit for a second, then gave an approving nod.

“Not bad,” Mike admitted.

Joe took a sip, letting out a satisfied sigh. “Damn, that’s smooth.”

Glen Sr. grinned, clearly pleased. “Good. Now that we got that settled tell me, Mike, are you one of those fair-weather football fans, or do you actually know the game?”

Gabby blinked.

Her dad tilted his head. “Oh, I know the game. Played a bit of it in college back in the day.”

Glen Sr. raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Longhorns fan?”

Mike scoffed. “Bulldogs, actually.”

A collective groan came from the group.

Glen, from across the deck, shook his head. “Well, this just got interesting.”

Glen Sr. leaned back, swirling his drink. “I should’ve known. You’ve got that stubborn energy.”

Joe smirked. “Oh, you have no idea.”

The conversation naturally rolled from football to old rivalries, and even a few dad jokes that made Gabby physically cringe.

She sipped her drink, watching her father who had walked in here prepared to be skeptical now looking completely at ease, talking to Glen’s dad like they’d known each other for years.

Joe elbowed her lightly, chuckling. “Well, that was unexpected.”

Gabby shook her head, still processing the sight in front of her. “Yeah, I thought I’d have to drag him here.”

Joe grinned. “Looks like you might have to drag him away from here instead.”

The evening soon settled into a comfortable lull. The fire pit crackled low, drinks were being refilled, and conversations had broken off into smaller groups.

Gabby was deep in conversation with Leslie and Lauren when Mike noticed Glen standing alone near the edge of the deck, watching the night sky. Mike took a sip of his bourbon, then set his glass down with quiet finality. 

He crossed the deck, coming to stand beside Glen. “You serious about her?”

The question landed like a weight in the quiet space between them.

Glen turned fully to face Mike, no hesitation. “Yes, sir. I am.”

Mike studied him, his expression unreadable. “Serious is a strong word.”

Glen nodded, choosing his words carefully. “I know it’s only been a few months, and I get why that might seem fast. But I’ve never felt like this about anyone before.”

Mike exhaled, taking a slow sip of his bourbon. “You know, I’ve been around long enough to recognize when a guy’s just saying what he thinks a dad wants to hear.”

Glen met his gaze evenly. “I’d expect nothing less. But it’s not just words, sir. I mean it.”

Mike gave him a long, measuring look before leaning against the deck railing. “Alright then. Since it seems like you’re going to be around…at least for a while, might as well get to know you.”

Glen perked up slightly, a little surprised but open.

“Let’s start simple what do you do when you’re not making movies?” Mike asked. “What’s your thing?”

A small, easy grin tugged at the corner of Glen’s mouth. “Planes.”

Mike raised an eyebrow. “Planes?”

“Yeah.” Glen leaned against the railing too, suddenly more relaxed, more in his element. “I’ve been obsessed with them since I was a kid. I got my pilot’s license a few years ago. Any chance I get I’m up in the air.”

Mike hummed, genuinely intrigued now. “Commercial or just for fun?”

“Just for fun.” Glen shrugged. “I love the freedom of it. No cameras, no scripts just the sky and me. It’s kind of my escape when I need to get away.”

Mike nodded slowly, seemingly satisfied with that answer. “Alright. That’s actually pretty cool.”

Glen smirked. “Thanks. High praise coming from you.”

Mike side-eyed him, fighting a smirk of his own. “Don’t push it, kid.”

Mike swirled the bourbon in his glass. “So, movies. That the plan all along?”

Glen chuckled. “Yeah. It’s all I ever wanted to do since I was a little kid. Liked entertaining people.”

Mike raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Glen exhaled. “I went to school at UT here in Austin. But I dropped out when acting took off. At the time, it felt like the right move.”

Mike’s expression didn’t shift much, but Glen felt the weight of his silence.

“So you never finished?” Mike asked after a beat.

Glen hesitated before shaking his head. “Not yet. But I’m working on it.”

Mike’s eyes flicked to him. “Yeah?”

Glen nodded. “I’ve been taking online classes to finish my degree. It’s a slow process, but it’s important to me. I want to finish what I started.”

Mike’s lips pressed together, considering. “That’s good to hear.”

And Glen could tell he meant it.

Mike sighed, shifting the glass in his hands. “Gabby’s been through a lot. She’s worked hard for the life she has. The last thing I want is for her to be an afterthought in yours.”

Glen’s jaw tightened slightly, his easy charm fading into something steadier, something real. “She’s not,” he said firmly. “I would never let her be.”

Mike took a slow breath. “You’ve got a big life, Glen. A flashy one. It’s a lot of attention, a lot of pressure. You’re used to it, but Gabby? She never wanted to be in the spotlight.”

“I know,” Glen admitted. “And I’m not gonna pretend to understand exactly what that feels like for her. But I do know that whatever she needs, whatever makes this easier I’ll do it. I don’t care if that means keeping things private, changing my schedule, or slowing down if I have to. She comes first.”

Mike studied him for a long moment. Finally, he gave a small, slow nod. “Good,” he said. “Because she deserves that.”

Glen nodded back. “I know she does.”

Mike tilted his head slightly. “And you? You deserve her?”

Glen swallowed, but his voice was steady. “I hope so. I’ll admit I have my flaws, but I really do my best to be good for her.”

Mike sat with that answer. It was the best one Glen could have given.

The evening had cooled, but the Texas heat still lingered in the air, softened by the breeze rolling across the open land. The sky was deep blue now, speckled with the first signs of stars, and the backyard was alive with movement laughter, quick footsteps, playful shouts carried through the night.

Mike stood on the edge of the deck, bourbon in hand, watching.

Below, a game of family football had broken out. It had started as a simple game of catch between Glen and his nephew, but then his sisters jumped in, then his mom got involved, and before long, Gabby with that fire in her eyes Mike knew all too well had grabbed the ball and challenged Glen to stop her.

That had been it. Now it was chaos in the best way. Glen’s dad stood a few feet away, watching the game with a lazy kind of amusement, shaking his head every so often at whatever stunt his son was pulling.

Mike, however, wasn’t looking at the game anymore. He was looking at Glen. And the way he was with his family. The way he let his nephew tackle him to the ground, even though he could’ve dodged easily. The way he high-fived his niece after she faked him out and scored. The way he laughed with his sisters, completely unfiltered, comfortable.

And then there was Gabby. Mike’s grip on his glass tightened slightly as he observed the little things. The way Glen’s eyes landed on her, even when she wasn’t paying attention. The way he looked at her, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Gabby was sprinting down the yard, ball in hand, her expression all determination and mischief. Glen caught up in a few easy strides, grabbed her around the waist, and lifted her off the ground, spinning her around to stop her.

Gabby’s laughter rang out, her head thrown back against his shoulder, completely unguarded. Mike felt something tighten in his chest. He hadn’t seen her laugh like that in a long time.

Mike hadn’t realized how quiet he’d gone until Joe appeared at his side, hands in his pockets, following his line of sight.

For a few beats, Joe just watched. Then, smirking, he let out a soft chuckle. “So,” he said casually, “you like him.”

Mike scoffed, not looking away. “Didn’t say that.”

Joe hummed, taking a sip of his drink. “Right. You’re just standing here watching them with a smile on your face.”

Mike exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “He’s a good guy.”

Joe grinned. “Knew it.”

Mike rolled his shoulders, setting his glass down on the railing, jaw tightening slightly. “It’s just…” He sighed. “She’s my little girl, Joe.”

Joe nodded. “Yeah.”

Mike kept his eyes on Gabby on the way she and Glen moved together without even realizing it. The way Glen reached for her hand instinctively when she stumbled. The way Gabby swatted at him playfully, but never pulled away.

“She’s all grown up,” Mike said quietly.

Joe gave him a look. “You knew it was coming.”

Mike let out a slow breath. “Doesn’t make it easier.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The fire crackled in the background, the sounds of Gabby laughing as Glen spun her again filtering up from the yard.

Then Joe, a little softer this time, asked, “What do you think Michelle would’ve thought of him?”

Mike huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

“Oh, she’d have loved him.”

Joe chuckled. “Yeah?”

Mike turned, finally looking at his brother. “I mean, look at him. Charismatic, good with people, big personality, damn good smile. She would’ve liked him even more than Gabby does.”

Joe laughed shaking his head. “You might be right about that.”

Mike exhaled, a mix of amusement and something heavier sitting in his chest.

“She always said Gabby needed someone who could keep up with her,” Mike murmured. “Someone who wouldn’t try to dim that fire she’s got.”

Joe watched him carefully. “And?”

Mike finally looked back at the yard at Glen and Gabby, still wrapped up in their game, still looking at each other like nothing else existed.

“And I think she found him.”

Joe smiled, clinking his glass against Mike’s. “Guess that means you better start being nice to him.”

Mike scoffed. “Not a chance.”

Joe laughed, shaking his head. “Come on, you can’t be too hard on the kid.”

Mike just smirked, watching as Gabby tackled Glen to the ground.

Maybe he was being a little hard on Glen. But he was her dad. And it was his job to keep this kid on his toes.

Out on the lawn, the game had somehow turned even more competitive. Glen had the ball now, holding it just out of reach as Gabby circled him, eyes narrowed in determination.

“Oh, come on,” she taunted, hands on her hips. “What, you scared I’ll take you down?”

Glen smirked, spinning the ball between his hands. “Not scared. Just trying to figure out if it’s even fair to make you lose twice in one night.”

Leslie snorted from across the yard. “Glen, you’re talking a lot of shit for someone about to get absolutely wrecked.”

Gabby grinned. “Exactly.”

Glen just arched a brow, playing it cool. “Alright then. Come and get it.”

And that was all she needed. Gabby launched herself at him, fast and determined, catching him by surprise. Glen had half a second to react before she tackled him full force, sending them both tumbling to the grass. The ball slipped from his grip as they hit the ground, Gabby’s triumphant laugh ringing out into the night.

Pinned beneath her, Glen let out a dramatic groan. “Oh, so that’s how we’re playing, huh?”

Gabby grinned, straddling his waist, her hands planted on his chest. “You said to come and get it.”

Glen tilted his head, lips quirking up. “Should’ve been more specific.”

She laughed, and it was that sound the one that was easy and full and real that made Mike’s chest tighten again.

From the deck, Mike just shook his head, sipping his drink, watching it all unfold.

Joe, still standing beside him, let out a low whistle. “Man, she got him good.”

Mike smirked, unable to deny it. “Yeah. She did.”

And what was more surprising?

Glen let her win. He could’ve held onto the ball longer, could’ve stopped her from taking him down—but he hadn’t.

Because winning wasn’t the point for him. Gabby was.

Out on the grass, Gabby finally pushed herself up, still grinning like she’d won the Super Bowl.

“Alright, get up, old man,” she teased, reaching down.

Glen huffed, grabbing her hand. “I am in peak athletic form, thank you very much.”

She snorted. “Sure you are.”

Glen let her help pull him up, but instead of letting go right away, his hands brushed along her arms, then instinctively down to her waist, steadying her.

It was subtle. Effortless. Like holding onto her was something he didn’t even have to think about.

Gabby tilted her head up at him, still catching her breath, her smile softer now. For a second, it was like the whole game had disappeared. Just the two of them, standing there in the glow of the string lights, eyes locked, bodies close.

Then, Glen dusted grass off her arms, his touch lingering for just a beat too long.

“Can’t have you getting all dirty,” he murmured.

Gabby rolled her eyes, but she didn’t pull away.

From the deck, Mike watched it all. The way Glen looked at her. The way Gabby leaned into him without even thinking about it. The way they just fit.

Joe, who had also caught the moment, nudged Mike’s arm. “Well,” he said, “if you weren’t already coming around to him, that right there should seal the deal.”

Mike didn’t say anything at first. He just took another slow sip of his drink, exhaling through his nose.

Then, quietly, he admitted, “Yeah.”

Joe grinned. “Knew it.”

Mike shook his head, watching as Glen tugged Gabby back toward the game, their hands brushing as they walked.

“She’s all grown up, Joe.”

Joe nodded, his voice softer this time. “Yeah. She is.”

And as much as it ached in a way Mike wasn’t sure he was ready for, he also knew she was happy. And at the end of the day, wasn’t that what mattered most?

The football game had finally settled into easy conversation, the competitive energy fading into the comfortable hum of a warm Texas night.

Mike glanced at his watch, exhaling. “Alright, we should probably head out.”

Joe stretched, rolling his shoulders. “Yeah, wouldn’t want the old man to get too cranky.”

Mike shot him a look but didn’t argue. As they stood from their seats, Glen Sr. stepped forward, already reaching for the bourbon bottle on the table.

“Well, since you both held your own tonight,” he said, pouring a slow sip into his glass, “I’d say y’all are welcome back for another round tomorrow.”

Mike raised an eyebrow. “That an invitation?”

Glen Sr. smirked. “More of a challenge.”

Joe grinned. “Now that’s something we can’t turn down.”

Mike huffed, but there was no real protest behind it. “Fine. But don’t water it down just ‘cause I’m the new guy.”

Glen Sr. chuckled. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As they stepped toward the truck, Mike paused, turning to Glen.

For a second, it felt like a test all over again. Then Mike looked him in the eye, his voice calm, steady. “Take care of her.”

Glen didn’t hesitate. “I will.”

And Mike must’ve believed him, because he gave a slow nod before turning to get in the truck. Glen stood there, watching the taillights disappear down the gravel road, only letting out a breath once they were gone.

Glen exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think that went okay.”

Gabby let out a laugh, stepping up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Yeah,” she murmured against his chest. “I think it did.”

Glen draped his arms over her shoulders, pressing his chin lightly to the top of her head, holding her close.

“So,” he said, voice teasing now, “does this mean your dad actually likes me? Or is he just tolerating me.”

Gabby pulled back just enough to grin up at him. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Glen smirked. “Guess I’ll just have to keep winning him over, then.”

Gabby shook her head, laughing softly.

[theemissuniverse]

“DYNAMITE” HENRY HART X ENEMY FEM!READER

SUMMARY : You and Henry haven’t really gotten along since you’ve known each other. Henry’s put up with it for far too long. (Both 18, graduated high school. Relationship is sort of like Freddie and Sam from ICarly.)

CONTENT : suggestive content, slightly explicit

MASTERLIST

No one and I mean not a single soul anticipated you and Henry ever being a couple. From early childhood to the end of middle school, the two of you were kind of like enemies. You would ‘bully’ him and the two of you would argue constantly up until when the two of you graduated high school.

The only reason why the two of you spoke was because Charlotte was your best friend and Henry was her friend too. Henry couldn’t even understand how you could like Jasper more than him.

He was tired. Tired of the teasing, tired of the hitting, tired of you. Especially because he had actually no other reason to dislike you. He honestly thought you were really cool when you weren’t dishing out all your misery onto him.

Tonight? Tonight was the final straw.

You were so mad at him that you almost exposed he was Kid Danger at a party Jasper was throwing at the air n b. Henry immediately took you into a bedroom and closed the door before looking at you, furious.

He was even more mad was because the only reason why you were invited to the party was because he told Jasper to. Jasper was afraid of you and didn’t want you to come but Henry didn’t want you to feel left out.

That’s just the type of person Henry was.

He was never this angry at you. He was used to you but he was boiling with anger.

This was it.

“What the actual fuck is your problem?”

You were caught off guard. Henry wasn’t really the swearing type unless he was joking or being funny. You had to of done it.

Henry didn’t even let you speak. He just kept going. “Teasing me since elementary school? I can handle. Throwing me into lockers in middle school? I can handle. Making me get detention after you blamed me for everything you did through out high school? I can handle. But exposing my secret? My secret to the entire party for me merely existing is something I can not fucking handle anymore.”

You looked at Henry in sort of a guilty and sad way. “It wasn’t for nothing.”

“Oh it wasn’t?” Henry begins to sarcastically say. “Oh, then please tell me what the problem is! Enlighten me! I really wanna know what grinded Ms. Nothing is ever Perfect gears tonight?! Hmm? What was it?”

You looked down in shame, not even wanting to say why. “You were talking to Ashley.”

Henry was even more confused. Why did the thought of talking to Ashley bother you? “You almost exposed me…because I was talking to Ashley?”

“See, when you put it like that, it sounds bad.”

“It is bad!” Henry scoffed at you. It’s like he couldn’t believe what and who he was seeing. “See, you’re ridiculous. I don’t even know why I wanted you here at this party in the first place.”

When Henry had said that, your eyes lit up. “You wanted me here?”

“Yeah because everyone is so afraid of you and thinks you’re a….the very not nice word that starts with a ‘B’ but I’m said ‘no, she’s just going through a lot. She’s not that bad’ but you know what? You are that bad. You’re crazy! No! Insane even. And this whole thing was crazy for me to even-“

Henry was cut off abruptly by the motion of you kissing him, directly on the lips. He stood there in complete shock. The kiss was so short, he didn’t even get to appreciate how soft your lips were. How comforting they felt.

He looked at you confused. He blinked a little, trying to process what just happened. “Um…what was that?”

You bit your lip and looked down to the ground. You couldn’t even look at him. “I know I’ve been extra…I’ve always been extra it’s just…I always thought you were cute and…I kinda liked you. Even though I gave you a wedgie four times…and ate your lunch every day….and made a dog eat your homework and when you told the teacher the excuse, you got detention but…I guess that was my way of expressing that I liked you. And when I saw Ashley flirting with you and you…enjoying it…I freaked out.”

Henry was completely stunned by your confession. Never in a million years would he ever hear from your mouth that you had a crush on him. The entire time.

And then he thought about it. How every Valentine’s Day at school he would get candy grahams but never knew who it was. How quickly you reacted to him even slightly grazing your hand. How sometimes you would just stare at him and he would have to ask you if something was on his face.

And then he thought about himself. How every Valentine’s Day he secretly hoped it was you. How he hoped you didn’t mind him purposely grazing your hand just to feel your contact. How sometimes he wanted to grab you by the hips and give you the most passionate kiss you’ve ever had by the way you looked at him.

“I’m sorry, Henry. I’m sorry I’ve been a bitch. I’m sorry I ruined everything.”

Now here’s something he’d thought he never see. You were crying. Tears. Actual tears not sweat. You had never cried in front of him before. Never.

Henry bit his lip, feeling bad. Was it still justifiable for him to be angry? Yes but he finally understood at least why you’ve been acting like this towards him.

You went to try and walk away but Henry wouldn’t let you. He grabbed your arm and spun you around. This time Henry’s lips landed on yours.

It was your turn to be surprised. You didn’t think after everything the two of you went through that Henry would even remotely feel the same way as you. But he did. Every bit of it.

You pulled Henry down more since he was taller than you. Henry held onto your waist as he deeply kissed you. You were melting right in his arms. Nothing felt better than his kisses.

Henry wasn’t expecting for your hands to go to the belt on his jeans. He felt you unbutton him super quick.

You slowly took the belt off this time, grazing his abdomen with your nails softly. The gesture made Henry let out a low growl that he himself had no idea where it came from.

Henry picked you up by thighs and had you up against the wall. Held you in place while you broke the kiss to kiss and suck on his neck.

“We-shit-need to talk-damn.” The sucking on his neck made him moan relentlessly.

“Talk about what?” You asked while taking off your shirt.

“Talk about-“ Henry cut himself off when he say how good your chest looked in a tightly fitted black bra. You smirked, seeing his reaction. You took his hands and placed them on your ass.

He forced himself out of his own trance. “I don’t just want to have sex with you. I like you.”

“Then have me.”

Henry looked in your eyes and then back at your lips. All before kissing you but this time, he did it lovingly. Like you were made of glass.

You were his now. In a strange way.

[gorgeys]

enemies to lovers with santana lopez

you and santana hate each other. you know it, she knows it, everyone knows it. until the lines start to blur.

word count: 1150 warnings: kissing a/n: this idea came to mind during my 47th glee rewatch and i'm lowk a little sad this fic didn't turn out as good as i expected :(

also, if you sent me a yellowjackets ask, i'm working on it! i've been a little busy lately but i'm going to try to get them done asap!!

you pressed your hand to your forehead as you reread the same chunk of the textbook you had been stuck on for the past ten minutes.  using your free period to study for your math test had seemed like a good idea, but it really only stressed you out more.

you look up when the door to the otherwise empty classroom swings open and groan when you see who it is.

"don't think i don't know what you're doing," she says, charging toward you.  she stops on the other side of the desk you're sitting at with her arms defensively crossed over her chest.

"hello to you too," you say before reverting your gaze back to the book.  despite your attempts to ignore her, she continues.

"i see you with schue," santana says, slapping her hands onto the table top and leaning forward so she's completely towering over you. her gaze is anything but kind. 

"i don't know what you're talking about," you mindlessly mumble, head still in the book and finger re-tracing one of the lines.

she suddenly slams your textbook shut, almost catching your fingers between the pages.  you finally look up at her, and she almost smiles at your irritation.

"please, everyone sees you sucking up to him and following him around like a lost puppy.  i mean, i knew you were pathetic, but i didn't realize you'd go that low just to get the solo," she says.  you swear her tone is extra venomous when it comes to you.

you roll your eyes before leaning forward onto your elbows, pushing your face closer to hers.

"you're so full of it, you know that?  not everything's about getting the solo or being head bitch in charge.  not that you would know, since you're too busy bitching and moaning all the time."

good thing the glee club wasn't here to see this.  they were beyond tired of this daily routine between the two of you.

"oh, please, birdbrain," she says without missing a beat.  "you just sit there looking all nice and pretty until there's something you want, and then you swoop in and shit all over everyone.  you might be able to fool schuester and the rest of those glee dorks, but i know you."

"and what if i was sucking up?" you suggest, abruptly standing from your chair and meeting her face-to-face.  "what would you do then?"

she notices your clenched jaw and feels accomplished knowing she's riled you up like this.  it's her favorite hobby, after all.

"it doesn't matter to me.  i'm gonna get the solo anyway," she says with a self-satisfied smirk.

"why are you even here, then?  if you're already going to beat me at auditions so badly," you say, mocking her with the pout of your lips.

there's a hitch in your well-rehearsed routine when santana pauses.  she opens her mouth to shoot back, but she's too busy staring at those shiny lips of yours.  they're taunting her.  they make her so...angry.

you raise your eyebrows when she doesn't respond right away.

"what?  cat got your tongue?" you ask, her smile falling and finding it's way to your face.

god, she just wants to wipe it right off those pretty, puffy lips.

she catches herself and steps back, arms crossing over her chest once more.  her eyes narrow at you.

"i'm sorry, your voice was just so grating that i couldn't listen any longer.  you really give berry a run for her money, you know."

"yeah, of course," you say.  as you walk around the desk, santana carefully watches you drag a manicured finger across the tabletop.  "you sure you're not a little scared?"

"scared of what? you?" she asks, turning to face you.  she scoffs as if it's outrageous.  "i'm more scared of those creepy cabbage patch kids."

"you're scared that i'm gonna beat you, right?  that's why you're here trying to scare me."

you inch closer to her, and her chest tightens because you're just so infuriating.  you and that smug grin, always taunting her.  those captivating eyes that seem to speak louder than your words.  the luscious hair she imagines pulling on just to hear you yelp out in pain.  infuriating is definitely the word.

"you're..."

santana starts, but for the first time in her life, she can't find the words.  creative insults usually rocket out of her mouth faster than the speed of light, but when you're looking at her like that, closer to her than you've ever been, her brain can't seem to function.

all she can see and smell is you.  stupid, annoying, frustrating you.

"pathetic," she finally finishes, trying to sound as sharp as usually does though it's all smoke and mirrors.

"ouch, santana, i'm so hurt," you mock, placing a hand over your chest.  a short-lived laugh leaves your lips.  "that's really the best you've got?  you've really lost your edge."  you're so lost in your own words that you don't notice the slight furrow of santana's eyebrow as her eyes flicker up and down your face.  "god, i can't wait to kill my audition and look over and see your stupid face.  i think it's gonna be even better than-"

acting on total impulse, santana reaches forward and grabs you by the sides of your neck.  you release a surprised squeal before she pulls you into her and silences you with a hard kiss.  you nearly tumble into her, but stop yourself by gripping onto her shoulders over her cheerios jacket.  without another thought, you kiss her back with just as much fervor.

santana takes charge as if she'd been planning this all along.  she forcefully backs you up until your back hits another desk and she settles between your legs.  one hand finds the small of your back and pulls your body flush against hers.

while her teeth clash with yours and she sucks harshly on your bottom lip, you can only think of how soft her lips are.  their sloppy, desperate movements convey a sense of longing that had been disguised as hate for so long.  finally, they were free to express everything she felt for you.

you thought you could kiss her for forever, but you reluctantly let her pull away for her air.  as soon as she does, the gravity of her actions sinks in.  she blinks back at you, staring at the mixture of both your lip glosses smeared all over your parted lips and chin.  still breathless, you squeeze her shoulders and try to subtly pull her back into you, but she's already stepping back.

you see the panic written all over her face before she abruptly turns and dashes out of the classroom just as quickly as she had entered.

you can only stand there, completely shell-shocked and math test totally forgotten.

you thought you hated santana lopez, but after she had walked in, rocked your world, and walked out, you weren't so sure.

[enchantedchocolatebars]

A Winsome Witch And A Happy Human Chapter 6 : Deal?

Written by 💕 enchantedchocolatebars 🍫 (me, lol).

Ao3 version.

Commission cover art.

Cover art poll.

Chapter titles.

Fic playlist 🎵 💕 🎶 ✨️ <3

Cover redraw.

Enjoy!

October 31st, 1630

Dear Journal,

Caleb hasn't been fine or himself since the trial ended days ago. He tells me that he is, but I can tell that he's fibbing. My brother isn't exactly the best liar, though he thinks he is.

I have a slight suspicion about what's been bothering him and causing him so much pain and grief, but why would it? It's been troubling my mind a great deal as well, admittedly.

I just want my brother back, the old him.

The one who would always smile when we went witch hunting together and would cheerfully carve birds and other fantastic things, instead of the one that I have now who I have to make feel better almost all of the time, and who eats less, and who lies in bed all day crying, and--

Philip paused his penmanship on parchment mid-sentence as he sighed, shifting his gaze to his brother while sitting up in bed.

Caleb was lying silently in his bed, his head on his pillow while wrapped woefully in his thin covers.

Even though Caleb's face was turned away from Philip, the brunette could instinctively tell that his spirits were tremendously low.

...

The time of day was night as the front door of the Wittebane household in the woods flew open with great force.

With tightened jaws, lips, and flaring nostrils, Philip stormed inside, his mind exploding with more and more rage as he thought about the sinful happening he had just witnessed tonight.

Rushing to his room, he wasted no time going over to the head of his bed as the brunette slipped a hand under his pillow, retrieving his trusted journal.

Taking a seat on the edge of his bed, Philip began flipping through his book for a fresh page to start writing in.

Finding the desired page, he pulled out a pen from behind his back and began to pour out his emotions on parchment.

September 28th, 1630

Dear Journal,

I've completely had it with that ****** !

Caleb, wearing his vest and boots, wanders through the woods after Philip heads to school, eventually reaching the deep, dense forest while walking with his pitchfork in his hands.

He was on a determined hunt to capture and turn in the hooded figure, rumored to be a witch, who had been spotted in the woods outside of town.

Apparently, her hideout was somewhere in the forest, but Caleb was having trouble locating it.

Suddenly, in the corner of his brown eye, the blonde caught a flicker of red dart past him with lightning speed.

A cloak was worn by the fast-moving figure as they hurried away.

They seemed oddly familiar to Caleb, and without hesitation, he pursued the person.

As he chased the figure, he soon saw it run into a clearing and finally caught up with it, causing the person to pause as they turned to face him.

Caleb halted as well.

He was taken aback when the hooded figure raised her carrot-colored fluffy bangs that covered the entirety of her eyes with her hand, which were widened with surprise and shimmered, in order to get a better look at him.

She also wore a double-bitted key around her neck with a skull-shaped button on its bow.

Her eyes...

Caleb has never witnessed a color this brilliant inside someone's irises before.

The gold was shiny and... looked oddly gorgeous on her.

As Caleb continued to stare, somewhat in awe at the girl, she shined him a small, uncomfortable smile, pointing a finger at his pitchfork, silently asking him to please put it down.

Quickly obliging, Caleb placed the pitchfork on the ground and gave the girl an apologetic grin while scratching the back of his head in slight embarrassment.

The girl, seemingly amazed that this human boy had heeded her request, flashed Caleb a mischievous grin as she pushed back her hood enough to reveal her ears, which wiggled adorably.

Caleb's eyes widened with wonder as he saw the pointed tips of her ears.

His eyes followed her hands as she created a small, glowing circle from which a flame sprang to life, dancing on her palm, which spelled the name '******' before vanishing.

Caleb let out a small gasp. He couldn't believe it, his eyes shining with amazement and disbelief. This was no regular girl. This was a witch, and her name was ******.

After the shock of speaking to an actual witch faded away, the blonde finally spoke, giving ****** his name.

Suddenly, Caleb felt a sense of guilt rise in his stomach, his face growing somewhat pale.

****** didn't look anything like the witches he would help condemn at the pyre.

Did that mean...?

Caleb shook the dreadful thought away.

No, that can't be the case.

****** must be an advanced witch of some sort.

It's probable that the others were ordinary witches.

Just as Caleb was about to tell ****** that he was a witch hunter, she gave him a knowing, yet kind smile.

She already knew that he was one (his pitchfork was a dead giveaway), but something about Caleb in particular seemed different and not like the other hunters.

The children where she came from were much more scarier than him and could make one break down in tears with their words alone.

No, Caleb seemed soft.

Not weak per se, but soft-hearted.

Besides, if he were like the other humans, he would have either killed or captured her by now, but she was still there with him.

With a somewhat flirtatious but also still really friendly smile, ****** decided to give Caleb a wink, which caused him to blush before letting out a chuckle.

Caleb then decides to shoot ****** with some flirty finger guns and blinks both of his eyes in an attempt to wink one.

This results in the witch snorting into her hand.

Poking its head out of ******'s hood was a black bird, soon revealing itself to be a raven as it flew towards Caleb before making a landing on his shoulder.

Both Caleb and ******'s eyes twinkled in amusement at the bird, mainly ******'s.

Her Little Rascal, quite literally his name, didn't like anyone except for her.

She watched Little Rascal rub affectionately against Caleb's face as he outstretched his finger for the raven to hop onto, which he did so without the slightest bit of hesitation in his eyes.

Both boys began to stare fondly at each other, with Little Rascal letting out a cheerful croak at Caleb.

He let out a laugh.

****** found herself smiling tenderly at this adorable interaction, her bile-sac skipping a beat within her chest.

Caleb truly was different.

Wondering where ****** found such a terrific raven from Caleb learns that ******'s raven, quite like herself, wasn't ordinary.

He was her palisman, and he soon flew back into his owner's hood after she whistled for him to return.

Just as Caleb was beginning to wonder what a palisman was, it was time for ****** and Little Rascal to leave as neither wanted to be spotted by any other humans.

However, ****** saw the eager expression on the blonde's face, and with a sly smirk, she expressed for Caleb to meet her in the exact same location tomorrow night.

She planned to teach him more about palismen, as well as a few other things from her world.

With one last wink and a small wave, ****** ran further into the forest.

While waving goodbye to his new friend, Caleb felt a soft smile start to brighten his face.

Caleb's dopey grin remained on his face throughout the rest of the day as he eagerly awaited for tomorrow night while doing his daily activities, and Philip couldn't comprehend the reason for his brother's overly merry and upbeat demeanor.

The next day, as evening turned into night, Caleb anticipated Philip going to bed so that he could see her again. Ah, ******. Like a breath of fresh air in his lungs. What a wonderful name for a girl. Caleb kept repeating it over and over again in his mind.

After receiving a good night from Caleb, Philip went straight to sleep, which gave the eldest the opportunity to quietly slip out of the house and race outside in the woods, his heart pounding with excitement as he got closer to the forest.

Finally arriving at the clearing, Caleb saw ****** waiting for him.

With a sly smirk, she motioned for the human to sit beside her in the grass.

As soon as he happily did, ****** twirled her finger, and in a flash of colorful light, images started appearing over their heads.

As Caleb watched, his eyes widening in wonder, ****** showed him illusion after illusion of her life.

She showed him how witches conjured up magic and where magic came from, what palismen were and their purpose, strange plants, her favorite shops in Bonesborough, a town in the Demon Realm that she lived in, and the spot in the garden that she loved to use for naps when she was a little witchlet.

****** then showed Caleb a few images of the massive library she worked in, and then she showed him a scene of her winning some sort of magical battle with a demon who had tried to pick a fight with the wrong witch, and then some scenes of her with a small but boisterous family, and finally, she showed him her most treasured memory...

The time her father had flown her and her little sister high into the air to show them a beautiful sunset over a corpse-shaped island, the corpse of the Titan.

Caleb stared at the images, his imagination running completely wild.

Once ****** had finished telling her story, it was time for Caleb to share about his life.

He did so but only mentioned the parts he was most comfortable with.

He spoke about his and Philip's childhood but did not linger on the passing of their parents.

After learning about each other's lives, Caleb and ****** continued to gaze into each other's eyes, warm smiles making their way on their lips as they slowly reached to hold hands. They then shifted their gaze to the star-filled night sky.

Caleb, with his peaceful visage brightened under the moon and stars, asks ****** if she'd be willing to take him on a trip to the Demon Realm someday as it was a place bursting with beauty and culture that he wanted to witness and experience himself.

Turning to Caleb with lidded eyes and a soft look, ****** answers him with a nod and the two continue to view the colors of the bright night sky.

Since meeting her, she has only been a nuisance and a major inconvenience...

In a recap of chapter 5, Philip walks home after the book signing event at sunset...

He steps inside his home and hears giggling in the kitchen...

Philip freezes in shock upon seeing Caleb cooking in the kitchen with a witch girl...

The brunette goes to charge at her in an attempt to attack her, but Caleb prevents it.

This girl, who looks to be the same age as Caleb, is introduced by the blonde as ******...

... And is clearly leading my brother down a path of deceit and damnation.

Later in the evening, after ensuring that Philip was fast asleep and snoring in his room, Caleb silently joined ****** by the fire with a smile as the two shared a comfortable blanket together and sighed in unison.

As the fire slowly burned down, Caleb drifted to sleep, curled up next to a sleeping ****** as their peaceful faces were illuminated by the flickering light of the fireplace.

Meanwhile, eerie, bright blue eyes that glowed with anger slowly disappeared behind Philip's bedroom door as it silently closed.

I don't even want to go into the specifics of what I witnessed Caleb and the witch doing tonight for my own sake. It was utterly horrific.

When Philip returned home, he observed how dim the interior was, which puzzled him since he believed ****** would come over for a visit.

The fireplace was not on, nor were there any candles lit or any signs of a shared supper made for two on the table.

Philip found himself smirking in triumph as he let out a 'hmph!'.

Perhaps the witch had opted to disappear forever and never return to their (his and Caleb's) home or lives.

As Philip continued to reflect on the nice thought, he noted the dead silence of the house but assumed it was because Caleb was asleep.

He would be if ****** wasn't there, after all.

After letting his hair down, he went upstairs and opened his room door, only to discover that Caleb was not there.

A sudden rush of panic swept through Philip's mind.

He knew Caleb was drifting further and further away ever since ****** came into the picture, a lingering fear that he couldn't let go of.

He was going to lose Caleb. Caleb was going to abandon him. Or worse, the witch would take Caleb away, and he would be powerless to stop her.

An uncontrollable rage rose within Philip.

He couldn't allow that to happen.

He wouldn't.

And so, with a surge of determination and adrenaline, Philip dashed down the stairs and out the door into the woods to reach the forest.

The brunette had a hunch that Caleb and ****** would be at the clearing since he had observed them there several times before while spying on them from inside bushes and shrubs.

While running, Philip focused his enraged gaze on the floating lights in the distance between trees.

'Magic', he thought to himself.

And he knew exactly who was responsible for it.

As they stepped onto the last light glyph, Caleb and ****** lost themselves in the slow dance they were sharing under the stars at the clearing.

The world remained silent as they held each other in a moment that felt like an eternity.

Caleb, with the help of a delicate yet shaking hand, gently brushed a lock of ******'s hair behind her ear, and as if guided by a force greater than theirs in a sudden moment, their lips pressed together in a breathless and beautiful kiss as a tidal wave of teenage emotions washed over them.

The kiss was a symbol of both defiance and love.

And although the love between a winsome witch and a happy human could lead to their demise if discovered, it didn't matter at this moment.

The only thing that mattered was them and their emotions.

However, Caleb and ****** were unaware of the shadow lurking behind them.

As he stood still and horrified, Philip's eyes were filled with an unimaginable amount of hurt, concern, betrayal, and fear.

As Caleb held that witch in his arms, his sole focus was on her and only her.

He and the wench were smiling.

Caleb was... smiling …

Philip wanted badly to call out to him, to keep Caleb safe and prevent him from making, in his eyes, the biggest mistake of his life.

But it was too late.

As he watched the soon-to-be couple move their faces closer to each other, he couldn't think of a single word to say.

As their lips met, Philip felt the heavy weight of reality descend upon him, shattering his fragile heart into tiny fragments as if it were made of glass.

It had all been right there in front of him this entire time.

Why was he unable to see the most obvious signs before?

Caleb Wittebane, his beloved older brother, was in love... and not just with anyone... with a witch.

As Philip sniffled, a tear slipped down on his parchment page before more quickly followed suit.

Wiping his eyes with his sleeve, Philip continued writing with a heavy heart while trying his best to control his crying, his nose now stuffy.

... I need her gone. Out of our lives. For good. I will do what I need to protect Caleb. To protect Gravesfield. I am certain that the next gathering at the pyre will be an eventful one. One that will be remembered for a considerable amount of time. All I need to do is reach out to--

Matthew Hopkins took a suave stroll down the busy town market the next day, his confidence evident in every step he took while wearing his brand new coat along with a new pair of boots and breeches.

The witchfinder figured some new clothes would turn a lot of heads in town since he was undeniably attractive, which was, of course, a factual opinion.

Other townsfolk seemed to agree with this truth as just about everyone who Hopkins quietly passed by quickly placed their focus on his fine features that were framed by the afternoon sun.

The men wanted to be like him, the single women wanted to be with him and run their hands through his hair, and most of the married women had thoughts about him while bathing, but never told their husbands.

Hopkins slipped on a smirk as he witnessed the sizeable sight of flushed admirers gazing at him as a small chuckle emerged from his throat.

He then turns his attention to the male quail that was settled on his shoulder.

Watson, Matthew's pet and feathered companion, shifted his eyes to his owner as he soon began to bob his head.

"You'll have your feed once we arrive home," Hopkins promised quietly to the quail in a reassuring voice.

"You have my word."

Hopkins never faltered in his honesty towards Watson, always keeping his word to the bird.

For a long time, the two had been together, and their bond was unbreakable.

Watson, chirping with understanding, stopped bobbing and continued to observe the marketgoers focusing on his owner.

...

'I have to save Caleb. I have to save Caleb. I must. I will. Caleb, I will save you,' were the purposeful words that Philip repeated in his head as he arrived at his destination, a small doorstep.

After knocking on the door, his blue eyes glittered with glee as the door swung open, but luckily, he was swift enough to take a step back without being hit.

Philip found himself under the "heroic" gaze of his hero.

"Mr. Hopkins!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"That's me...," Hopkins slowly replied as he raised a confused brow at the boy.

Although he appreciated the youth, he didn't usually receive knocks on his door from them.

Typically, when he answered his door, he expected to see either the town minister paying him a visit or one of the various women from town coming to sing their praises for him or gift him with bird seed for Watson.

What did this teenage boy whom he's never met before in his entire life want from him?

"Look, if you want my signed signature, can it not wait until tomorrow?" Hopkins requested, assuming that's what the boy wanted.

"I was just about to feed my pet quail, Watson."

Upon hearing his name from inside, Watson let out a chirp.

"Who's at the door?" Hopkins turned to answer him before looking back at Philip.

"Oh, just some boy from town. And he's ... clearly got an eye problem."

Those last five words were muttered out by the witchfinder, referring to the visible sparkles of elation shining in Philip's eyes.

They were far too big and bright as he squinted.

"I do apologize for the disturbance, Mr. Hopkins," Philip said, his eyes returning to their normal state as he took on a mature demeanor. "But I didn't come here for your signature. I came for a more serious matter. A witch matter."

"A witch matter?" This got Matthew's attention, his eyes flickering with interest in what the boy had to say.

"That does sound quite serious. Very well then. Come inside, young...?" Hopkins paused, not knowing the boy's name.

"Philip!" Philip quickly answered, his enthusiasm shining once more.

"Philip Wittebane! Mr. Hopkins, I'm not sure if you remember, but we've met before," the brunette politely informed.

"We have?" Hopkins tilted his head some, taking in the boy's appearance.

Did he seem familiar?

Philip nodded. "Yes, at the library! Your book signing event was held there! I approached your table!"

Hopkins proceeded to blink. Tons of people approached his table that day.

"You... sighed my book?" Philip quietly stated, hoping that would jog Mr. Hopkins' memory.

However, it didn't as the general continued to stand there with a puzzled expression.

"Oh!" In a swift motion, Philip quickly whipped out his copy of "The Ways of a Witch Hunter" from behind his back and opened the book to its title page.

He pointed to the poorly drawn horse next to Matthew's initials.

"You drew this for me!"

Hopkins studied the artwork beside his name, slowly recalling it.

"Ah, I see. Now I remember..." His memory was primarily of drawing the horse, with a brief memory of speaking to Philip. "Very well then, young Philip."

When Hopkins said his name, Philip was close to exploding, but he held it together.

"Come inside."

Philip nodded as he stepped inside Mr. Hopkins' home.

...

After Hopkins had given Watson his feed of food, as he had previously promised during their stroll, he walked over to the table where he had instructed Philip to sit at.

The general couldn't help but smirk when he saw the boy's captivated reaction to his interior walls.

"Impressive collection, isn't it?" Hopkins asked with a chuckle, taking a seat at the table.

Philip, taking his gaze off of the display of mounted 'witch' skulls on the walls, looked to Mr. Hopkins.

He nodded. "It is," Philip agreed. "Are they... real?"

Hopkins let out a boisterous laugh, a prideful smile playing on his lips.

"Of course they are! I certainly wouldn't have them if they weren't. I've preserved the skulls of every witch I've condemned as a way to show the devil that I mean business. I refuse to let him or his followers poison our great town with their treachery."

Aspiration to be just like Mr. Hopkins shined in Philip's eyes, his smile growing immensely at every word the general said.

He, too, wouldn't allow the devil or his followers to poison Gravesfield.

After chuckling inwardly at the dark thought in his mind of one of the heads on the wall being ******'s, Philip beamed out, "Mr. Hopkins, you truly are a godly man."

Hopkins chuckled outwardly at the compliment. "I have to agree," he said.

"Now, about the witch matter, if I may ask what made you decide to come to me about it? I'd assume the first person you'd want to discuss this with would be the town minister."

"Well," Philip began. "You are the greatest witch hunter in Gravesfield," he told Hopkins.

"And the greatest who ever lived," Hopkins quickly added with a conceited look on his face.

Philip gave a nod at that fact.

"Yes, and I know Mr. Town Minister has been awfully busy writing the extra copies of this week's sermon for the hard-of-hearing members of the congregation..." Bless his soul. "So I didn't wish to bother him."

"I see... So, about the witch matter?" Hopkins desired to know every juicy detail about it.

"Yes, about that...," Philip mumbled, trying to think of what to say. He knew that he had to be wary of his words to prevent getting Caleb in trouble.

The blonde would probably still face minor consequences, but Philip needed to make sure that ****** the witch was the one to face death and meet her maker, Satan, in the afterlife by the end of all of this.

"Well?" Matthew asked, crossing his arms as his raised an impatient brow. "Out with it already."

Philip took a deep breath. "Do you know about the witch who's been running around town in a hood?"

"I do," Hopkins replied.

"Well, Caleb, my brother, h--"

Hopkins' eyes broadened as he suddenly slammed both his hands down harshly on the table, startling Philip as he flinched and quickly zipped his lips.

"Is he the witch?!" Hopkins demanded to know in an aggressive tone.

"Huh?!" Philip quickly shook his head, shaking his hands sideways. "N-No, sir!" he said, quickly rejecting the idea.

"Oh...," Hopkins quietly went, settling down some. "My apologies then." He cleared his voice, motioning for Philip to continue.

"Caleb is... having relations with her," Philip confessed.

"Oh, he is, is he?"

Philip felt instantly frightened by the dangerous glare on Matthew Hopkins' face and began to defend his brother the best he could.

"He is, but please, Mr. Hopkins, it's not Caleb's fault! The witch was the one who committed immoral acts! Caleb was charmed by her! Bewitched! Bewitched by a pointy-eared temptress who--"

"Stop."

"Huh?" Philip stopped speaking after being told to do so.

"Did you just say that this witch that Cain--"

"A-Actually, it's Caleb, Mr. Hopkins," Philip gently corrected, hoping he wouldn't get scolded for it.

"Yes, Christopher. That's what I said. The witch that he's been seeing... her ears are... pointed?" Hopkins asked, wanting a confirmation.

"Yes, sir. They are," Philip confirmed.

"I see...," Hopkins said with an intrigued expression. "Witches with pointy ears are far more dangerous than ones with so-called human ears."

"They are?!" Philip questioned with a shocked expression upon learning this.

Hopkins nodded. "They are."

'I knew it!' Philip thought to himself.

His brother truly was in grave danger.

"Young Philip, how's about we make a deal?"

"A deal?"

"Yes. A court date for this pointy-eared sorceress will be set for October 25th."

'That's the end of this week,' Philip noted inwardly.

"If you're somehow able to convince your brother to bring her to court, I'll have a talk with the minister. At the very least, his punishment will involve unpleasant questioning along with public repentance in order for him to rebuild his reputation. It's also probable that he'll have to spend a night or two locked in the manure pit."

As a sight gag, the scene pauses to display a set of blackletter words on screen that state: 'Side note: the manure pit is not an actual pit but rather a very old outhouse in Gravesfield that no one in town goes near due to the horrendous stench.'

Once the gag ends, the story continues.

"As long as we can break him out of his spell, Caesar will certainly keep his life."

Philip sighed, slouching a bit in relief.

At least Caleb would get to live.

A hand then clasped Philip's shoulder.

He looked to see Matthew Hopkins now standing beside him.

Silently, he gazed at the man he looked up to like a son would his father, his eyes gleaming once more.

"You are being very brave, young Philip," Matthew told him.

Philip's chest swelled at the praise.

"R-Really?" he managed to stammer out, slight flush appearing on his features. "You really think so?"

"Oh, I know so. Now, do we have a deal?" Hopkins proceeded to hold out his hand for Philip to shake.

Philip looked at the hand for a bit, then at Mr. Hopkins. His face brightened immediately as he stood up from his seat.

"Deal!" The brunette vigorously shook Hopkins' hand.

"Wonderful. Now, before you take off, I'd like for you to have this." Matthew Hopkins reached a hand down his holder and retrieved a dagger.

The weapon's blade was unusually sharp and had a crooked appearance.

Philip gasped. "M-Mr. Hopkins! You're giving me--"

"Yes. A gift from me to you." Hopkins handed the dagger to Philip.

He had plenty of other daggers that looked exactly the same on the wall of his room.

"Protect yourself against any wild witches you might come in contact with," Hopkins spoke passionately, putting on a bit of a show as he clenched his fist.

He smiled a cocksure smile seeing Philip eat his behavior up.

Philip held the hilt of the weapon, admiring it fully.

Matthew Hopkins, the greatest witch hunter of all time, was giving him his dagger... as a gift?!

Philip could faint.

He wasn't going to, but he could have.

The brunette swiftly nodded. "I will! Oh, Mr. Hopkins, I am truly honored to have this!"

Hopkins chuckled.

This kid was something else.

"You should be," Matthew said, his lips curling into a smug smirk.

After waving Philip off, Hopkins went over to Watson, who had just cleaned out his small bowl of bird food.

"Did you hear that, Watson? A witch with pointed ears," Matthew stated as he took the empty bowl.

Watson chirped before flapping his wings to move up, landing on Hopkins' shoulder.

The general chuckled briefly at his companion's response, stroking beneath his neck with care.

"I know, I know," he spoke gently. "It's been forever since we've last seen one..."

A sense that one could describe as nostalgia trailed in Hopkins' voice.

...

As Philip traveled down the center of town, he was in a state of contemplation, thinking of ways to persuade Caleb to take his beloved (bleh) witch to court.

He knew his brother was far too deep in a state of bewitchment by her love spell to do it willingly. So what ways could he employ to convince him to do the right thing?

While continuing to ponder, within the bustling crowd of townsfolk moving to and fro, Philip quickly spotted a hooded figure heading forward... and she wasn't alone, nor was she with Caleb.

She was with--

A small gasp escaped Philip, his blue eyes widening slightly.

Swiftly shifting his direction to an empty stall so that his back was turned as ****** and the human boy she was holding hands with passed by, Philip slowly turned his head to watch them.

'That's Miss. Doughberry's son...,' he whispered inside his head in genuine surprise.

'What's he doing with that witch?'

Philip took note of the fluttering looks the two gave each other as they approached the storefront door of the bakery.

As the son of Miss. Doughberry gently lifted ******'s hood down, he revealed the set of human ears that she now had.

Philip narrowed his eyes at the sight of this.

'She clearly used magic to fake those ears. Those aren't really hers,' he spat out in his mind.

'Conniving witch...,' he growled, continuing to view the interaction.

With a glowing look of love in her eyes and a soft smile, ****** leaned in close to the son.

A gentle grin crept onto his lips as the two shared a short but meaningful kiss before stepping inside the bakery together.

Witnessing the display of affection caused Philip to feel a surge of unbridled anger, accompanied by a scowl of disgust on his face.

'THAT DEPLORABLE WENCH!!' his internal self literally roared out, Internal Philip's head growing and his mouth opening to expose several rows of deadly sharp teeth in a fearsome sight gag.

He was just about ready to rip ******'s head off.

With a sharp turn, Philip quickly darted in the direction of home.

'Caleb has to know about this,' he told himself in a steely tone.

...

As the evening progressed to night, Caleb gave a suave twirl, turning to face the full-body mirror in his bedroom with a smashing smile.

Holding a simple wood carving of two swans with their necks craned together like a heart, the blonde took a breath before smiling and saying with confidence, "Oh, hello, love! I didn't see you there! You're looking quite divine tonight."

Caleb proceeded to hold up his carving to the mirror. "What's this? It's a swan carving! I made it for you."

Pretending as if ****** had wordlessly complimented his carving, Caleb gave a bashful chuckle. "It's beautiful? Why, thank you! I don't think it rivals your beauty, though. Nothing in this world ever could."

After another light-hearted chuckle, Caleb rubbed the back of his neck shyly. "Um, love? I have a question. Is it alright to... kiss you?"

The blonde smiled softly, pretending to have received a silent yes from ******.

"Very well then." Slowly, Caleb leaned forward, pressing his puckered lips against the mirror's glass.

Upon pulling away, a warm sensation of true love was felt in his stomach.

"Oh, beloved, your lips are as soft as rose petals," Caleb told no one with softened eyes.

With a motivated grin on his face, he took another breath and nodded. "Alright," Caleb told himself. "I think I'm ready for my date."

"Are you?" asked a familiar voice.

"Eee!" squealed a surprised Caleb as he jumped, his swan carving nearly slipping from his grasp.

Turning swiftly, he saw his younger brother standing at the entryway of their room with an unamused expression on his face.

"Ph-Philip!" Caleb squeaked, his cheeks flushing dark red. "H-How... how much did you... see?" the blonde quietly asked.

"Oh, only all of it," Philip answered in a monotonous tone as he entered the room.

Caleb noticed the gruff and bothered expression on his brother's face, a look of concern soon crossing his own.

"You look troubled, Pip," the eldest reached out, placing a hand on Philip's shoulder before continuing. "Is something the matter?"

After remaining silent for a while, the youngest exhaled a sigh. "It's that witch...," Philip muttered out. "I saw her in town today. She's..."

The brunette paused, searching for the right words to convey the news to his brother.

"She was with Miss. Doughberry's son. They held hands and..." Philip took a breath.

"Caleb, there's no easy way to say this, but... they shared a kiss. That witch is being unfaithful."

Hearing out his brother and taking in his words, Caleb frowned.

"Philip," the eldest began, a sense of firmness in his voice. "I understand that you don't like ******, but it's not acceptable for you to fabricate tales about her."

Fabricate? That word struck a nerve within Philip. "Are you implying that I'm a liar?" Philip growled lowly, lowering his brows at his brother.

"No, but I'm certainly not calling you a truther, either," Caleb simply stated, lowering his brows as well.

Philip stomped his foot, harshly hissing out, "YOU SHOULDN'T EVEN BE HAVING ANY RELATIONS WITH HER AT ALL!"

"Shh, Philip!" Caleb quietly and quickly hissed out sternly, placing a finger on his lips. "No shouting in the house! You'll wake up the neighbors!"

Philip stomped his foot for a second time. "WE DON'T HAVE NEIGHBORS!"

"We do, too," Caleb calmly argued, referring to Mr. Kookman and his wife.

A frustrated groan escaped Philip. "It's all that witch's fault. She's the reason why we're even having this argument. Vile snake. This is precisely why I told Mr. Hopkins about her!"

"Oh, you did?" Caleb rolled his eyes. "Wow, Philip, I'm so surprised."

Philip's face displayed a great deal of irritation at his brother's sarcastic tongue.

"I have a question, Philip. This Matthew Hopkins. You hold him in high regard, but how do you know that he isn't a witch himself? I mean, have you ever seen his ears before?"

Philip's blood started boiling. "Shut up!" the brunette shouted.

"Don't talk about him like that! He's not a witch, ****** is! You're just jealous because Mr. Hopkins is more of a man than you'll ever be!"

"You're right, Philip. I'm not a man," Caleb stated flatly. "I'm an exhausted teenage boy who's been caring for you for years and works his tail off every day to ensure we have enough food and money to live a decent life."

Philip huffed. "Don't tell me what I already know."

Caleb narrowed his eyes. "Then don't yell at me," he told Philip.

"I can yell at you if I want to!" Philip barked.

Not appreciating the tone of voice that Philip was using to speak to him, Caleb sighed and rolled his eyes once more.

"I don't have time for this," he said, deciding to walk past his brother and head downstairs to the front door.

Frowning, Philip followed after him.

Upon his arrival at the door, he opened it and witnessed his brother already heading in the direction of the forest.

Philip felt his body shake with an unfettered rage as tears flowed freely down his cheeks.

With venom in his voice, he viciously shouted, "You're a terrible brother!" before slamming the door with all his might.

Caleb halted and looked back at the house, sadness starting to fill his stomach.

He couldn't deny how hearing those words from Philip's mouth had a negative impact on his soul.

It genuinely broke his heart.

He would have to patch things up with Pip once he returned home, but right now, he had a date waiting for him in the clearing to get to, and he was already so late.

Sighing deeply, Caleb continued forward.

...

The next morning, Caleb struggled to shake off the memory of the fight he had with Philip last night, the words 'You're a terrible brother', still ringing nonstop in his head.

Was Philip's statement a result of frustration, or was he truly a bad older brother?

Did simply falling in love with a witch as kind and faithful as ****** make him a monster?

Caleb thought about it for a bit before breathing out a saddened sigh. He was unsure at this point as he got up to get ready for the day.

...

Making his way downstairs in his work attire, which consisted of a pair of brown overalls over a white top with brown boots, Caleb turned into the hallway before entering the dining room.

Upon seeing Philip, his lips curled up in a proud smile.

"Wow, Pip! You made those on your own?" Caleb asked, referring to the scrambled eggs sitting on the frying pan that Philip slid onto his plate. "They look good!"

"I only made enough for one," Philip answered coldly as he took a seat.

"Oh..." Caleb could detect the hurt that Philip was trying to mask in his voice, taking a seat as well.

The blonde smiled sadly. "That's fine! I wasn't really hungry anyways."

Silence reigned at the table between the two brothers for a bit, with neither speaking to the other.

The only sound that could be heard was Philip chewing his food.

Caleb sighed, being the first to break the silence by asking with a low-spirited smile, "So, Pip, I was wondering, after I return home from work today, would you perhaps want to play a game of witch--"

The chair that Philip sat in suddenly screeched.

"I have to go," were the only words that Philip said as he stood up and walked toward the front door.

"Oh? Leaving so soon? You hardly touched your breakfast. Where are you going, Pip?" Caleb tried his best to hide the pain in his voice as he asked this.

"Anywhere but here," Philip spat out as he left, closing the door behind him.

"O-Oh...," Caleb utterly out quietly, turning his saddened gaze to the barely eaten plate of eggs.

He sighed once more, taking the plate to finish the food himself.

...

After completing his day's work and receiving payment from the herder who he had helped herd his various dopey kids (baby goats) down a fertile grassland, Caleb expressed gratitude, said goodbye to the herder, and headed towards town.

While walking, the eldest went into a train of thought, trying to think of ways to make his brother happy with him once more and repair their relationship.

Initiating an apology would be a good start, but Philip would always breathe out a vex huff and walk away sharply before Caleb could even get one out.

Still thinking, Caleb took a downcast gaze at the small, bronze-colored pouch of coins he had in his pocket.

Although not much, it was certainly enough to buy a...

The blonde then began to notice that he was nearing the bakery before smiling, his eyes gleaming with an idea.

Philip Wittebane had the biggest sweet tooth known to man, and his brother could confirm this, which meant that not even he could say no to a sweet baked treat.

Stopping at the shop's window, Caleb began to view the various pies on display.

Apple, pumpkin, sugar cream custard, meat pies, pear pies, ah-ha!

Caleb's brown eyes spot his and Philip's favorite flavor of pie sitting prominently in the center of the display, with a label beside it that reads 'Maple Buttermilk Pie'.

A wave of nostalgia hits Caleb instantly, as he recalls with great fondness his mother always preparing maple buttermilk pie in the kitchen along with the meal for the evening.

The dessert was a family favorite in the Wittebane household, and every time Patience Wittebane presented it to her husband and two boys at the table, she would do so with a tender smile of a loving mother.

Caleb's thoughts drifted back more and more to his mother and father, his smile slowly going down as he sighed.

Their disappointment would be evident if they were to see him and Philip in the present day, given that their relationship seemed to be hanging on its last thread.

Being the caring parents that they were, Cadman and Patience would want nothing more than their boys to come together and reach a compromise, and Caleb knew this.

The blonde kept his gaze fixed on the pie while pondering.

Perhaps buying Philip a piece would help him realize that as well, even if the pie probably won't have the same maternal sweetness as their mother's.

Just before Caleb could make his way into the shop, he saw a familiar figure whom he loved dearly in the reflection of the window.

She walked past without noticing him with her hood down, her ears round and human, as she held hands with one of the boys who assisted some of the merchants and tradesmen in town.

This freckled face boy had short brown hair, along with a white top, cream-colored breeches, dark brown boots, and a big flirtatious smile dancing on his lips.

****** and the boy seemed to be leaving town as they headed towards the woods.

Now, unlike his brother, Caleb was not one to jump straight to conclusions, but he did raise a confused brow at this.

'That witch is being unfaithful,' Philip said in Caleb's mind, his words echoing in his head.

Caleb quickly dismissed the thought.

Although he didn't want to believe what his brother had previously said, it... also wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on the two.

Walking away from the bakery, Caleb secretly follows the pair out of town and into the woods, taking small steps while keeping quiet to avoid detection.

'You're not spying on them,' Caleb tried to convince himself, but guilt and worry were evident on his face as he continued.

'You're just...' He took a small breath. 'Keeping a watchful eye on them because you're curious, that's all.'

Once ****** and the boy reached the clearing together, Caleb quickly dove into the nearest, non-prickly bush, poking his head out to observe the two.

They took a seat together in the grass, the two face-to-face with their legs crossed, and the boy began to talk at length to ****** about his day as she regained her pointed ears once more with magic.

****** showed interest in the boy's story, especially when he added a sense of humor and a touch of good-hearted sarcasm to his words, as she smiled and giggled affectionately at him.

Once the boy had finished talking, ****** held out her index finger and whistled out to Little Rascal, who soon came gliding down from the sky, landing precisely on the boy's head.

This surprised both ****** and the boy, amused looks now crossing their faces as they watched Little Rascal open his curved beak before giving a light yank on a strand of the boy's hair, causing both him and ****** to laugh cordially at the raven's silly antics.

Once he felt at ease enough to do so, Little Rascal flapped down and settled himself in the small open space inside the boy's crossed legs.

The boy smiled at this as he began to give soothing rubs against the back of the black bird's neck with his hand.

Little Rascal opened and closed his beak in fondness at the soft touches, letting out light croaks.

****** viewed the tender interaction with a soft smile and decided it was the perfect opportunity to introduce the two to each other.

Upon witnessing ****** and the boy's friendly behavior towards one another, Caleb couldn't resist smiling along with them.

The sight of his beloved making friends with humans was truly a delight to see.

...

When Caleb gradually woke up from his sleep, he proceeded to let out a yawn and slowly noticed his right cheek resting against the green shrubbery of the bush he was still in.

As he turned his gaze towards the sky, he saw stars glowing against an inky, black abyss and soon realized that he had been asleep for quite some time.

Before he could step out of the bush, Caleb caught sight of a floating light passing through the leaves of a nearby tree.

With wide eyes, he quickly darted them in the direction of ****** and the boy... and the blonde's heart instantly dropped, his entire form frozen seeing... Caleb blinked twice, genuinely baffled.

His gaze laid on the sight of ****** and the boy being close. Their hands were on each other's backs as their cheeks flushed bright red. They moved slowly to the rhythm that only they could hear in their heads as they stepped on light glyphs with each spin of their dance.

The light glyphs surrounding them took on the shape of a large heart and ****** and the boy felt their smiles grow. They grew closer to each other.

"No...," Caleb whispered in pure shock, blinking back the tears that were forming inside his ducts.

Before he knew it, he witnessed the two slowly lean in towards each other before sharing a breathless kiss.

A small gasp escaped from Caleb, the blonde covering his mouth with both hands as he shook his head in disbelief, tears pouring down his cheeks.

The pain he felt was indescribable and something he hadn't experienced in a long time.

He couldn't believe it... His brother was right... ****** truly was unfaithful to him.

Caleb took a few steps back, not paying attention as he nearly tripped on a vine before taking off through the forest, silently sobbing to himself.

Both ****** and the boy's dance were interrupted as they heard the rustling of a bush along with the crunch of footsteps on the forest floor, but when they both turned around, whatever had been there was gone.

...

"Her eyes... shared the same color as copper ...," Philip narrated to himself in a gentle tone, noting that very significant detail as he began to add it to a blank parchment page in his journal using a quill with brown ink.

The brunette was sitting at the dining room table, with an oil lamp sitting on top of it, the lamp illuminating the area enough for him to see his work.

He also had an assortment of colored ink bottles on the table that were gifted to him by his brother on his birthday, but he hadn't found the time to use them until today.

Philip felt the need to provide more detail about these stunning copper eyes.

He soon said, "They were like infinite pools of beauty, and undoubtedly warm and inviting."

Recently, Philip had been dreaming about a girl whom he had developed feelings for and thought that she was the most exquisite girl in the world.

In his dreams, the girl would appear to him like an angel from heaven.

Her smile was pure and kind, and she would always offer him her hand to take, but whenever Philip reached out to take it, she suddenly dissipated, and the dream abruptly ended soon after.

Luckily, Philip was able to capture and remember enough of the angelic girl's appearance before she vanished.

He wished that he had been able to learn her name, though, so that he could properly address her.

As he continued his narration, he sketched and colored what he described as his heart skipped a beat, with his words being vivid and flowery.

"Her skin tone was sun-kissed by the sun and heavens. Her glasses were rectangular and fit her adorable, round face perfectly. Her figure..."

Philip gave thought to it for a bit, heat quickly rushing up to his entire his face as his stomach rolled.

"Full and unique." There weren't any girls his age in Gravesfield with such a pretty body shape.

"Her hair was long, dark, and had waves like those of the ocean. Her lips were full, and her smile..."

It made Philip grow a soft one of his own. "Was unforgettable."

After completing the details of the girl's wedding dress, Philip looked at his finalized work with a glow in his eyes.

If he could and was old enough, he would definitely make her his betrothed, and as her loving husband, he would always love and cherish her for the rest of their days together.

He would kiss and hug her non-stop and would always be there for her and act as a provider for both her and their lovely little family (he was already turning beet red at the thought of them having many children together).

He would also make her soothing tea on sick days and lean over and kiss her forehead and...

Philip's mind was filled with a multitude of sweet and wholesome thoughts. He's never felt such happiness before.

His parents made him very happy when they were alive, and so does Caleb... for the most part, but this happiness was on a whole other level.

It was different... and very special.

As he picked up his journal, Philip held it in front of his face, his attention still on the girl of his dreams.

Despite already knowing, he looked to his left and right to ensure he wasn't being watched.

Philip soon shut his eyes and puckered his lips, trembling slightly as he began to lean forward.

His cheeks were flushed, and his lips were merely centimeters away from touching the page.

Suddenly, a faint knock came from the front door.

Philip squeaked, dropping his journal immediately as flush covered the entirety of his face.

After taking a few breaths, calming his racing heart down, Philip soon frowned, knowing exactly who was on the other side of the door.

Walking over to the front door, he swung it open.

Philip huffed, crossing his arms together.

"I'm still not talking to y--" Philip went immediately silent as his eyes fell upon his brother standing there, his entire being seemingly consumed by an overwhelming amount of sadness and heartbreak.

The youngest also took notice of the eldest's wet eyes, which were red from a relentless amount of crying and held a great deal of pain in them.

"C-Caleb...?" Philip whispered in surprised, genuinely concerned for his brother as he tried his best not to panic, though it was evident in his visage.

In response, Caleb's lip began to quiver as he quickly rushed up to Philip, collapsing into the brunette's arms, as he began to sob violently, his entire body shaking with emotion.

"Oh, Philip," Caleb began woefully, his tone broken. "Y-You were right about her. I-I'm..." He stopped to sniffle intensely before continuing.

"I'm so sorry for ever doubting your words when you told me the truth that day. I'm... I'm just so sorry for being such a terrible older brother in general, Pip. W-Would you ever be willing to forgive me?" Caleb pleaded desperately, unsure if forgiveness was something he even deserved at this point.

Philip's heart shattered into pieces at the sound of his older brother's voice.

He was sad, yes, but also very scared.

While it's true that he has seen Caleb cry and be sad before, it was never to this extent.

This vulnerability of Caleb's was new to him.

As Philip, still stunned, began to wrap protective arms around his brother, he couldn't lie.

His inner self was displaying the greatest smug smile on his face.

Inner Philip urged his outer self to tell his brother that he told him so.

That he was silly and naive for even thinking that a witch of all things could ever be faithful, but Philip had to suppress that inner voice, as such words would only heighten Caleb's hurt.

Right now, what Caleb needed was strength, and Philip would provide that strength for him to the best of his ability.

"That's not even a question, Caleb," Philip expressed in a gentle murmur, holding his brother. "Of course I forgive you."

Caleb's sins were never a factor in Philip's willingness to forgive him repeatedly.

The eldest has forgiven him plenty of times before, so it was only fair for him to do the same.

After all, neither brother was perfect, and they both had a lot to work on.

"I'm sorry for calling you a terrible brother. That's not true at all. You're a wonderful brother who does his best every day." Philip wouldn't trade Caleb for anyone in the entire the world.

"Also, you are not to blame for this plight, Caleb. You were simply bewitched. Bewitched by..." Philip's brows furrowed as he scowled. "Her...," he mentioned, grumbling angrily under his breath as he thought about ******.

"I hate her...," Philip growled lowly. "I hate her so much. She needs to be taught a harsh lesson and face cruel judgment."

Philip gave his brother some intense eye contact, his cold, blue eyes burning with vengeance. "Caleb, you must turn her in."

"Turn her in?" Caleb sniffled as he looked at his brother with an uncertain gaze. "I mean, I could, but..." The blonde paused, thinking a bit before sighing. "I don't know, Philip...," he spoke, his tone tentative.

"But Caleb." Philip's lips formed a small frown.

"She betrayed and hurt you without any concern. She took your trust and discarded it for her own personal pleasure. She's vile, an unfaithful wench. The feelings she had for you were false and all a part of her hex. She never cared for you, Caleb, and never will."

This cold, hard truth hit Caleb like a hurricane, his thoughts drifting to the times that he and ****** spent together.

...

The first time they met in the clearing and formed an unlikely friendship soon after.

She never cared for you, Caleb, and never will.

Their first night together. ****** showed Caleb illusions about her life, while Caleb shared a bit about his life afterward.

They then gazed at the star-filled sky together while holding hands.

She never cared for you, Caleb, and never will.

The evening when Caleb curled up and slept next to ******'s side as the fireplace flickered with light and warmth.

She never cared for you, Caleb, and never will.

The slow dance they shared that fateful night... and the kiss they share--

She never cared for you, Caleb, and never will.

...

Caleb soon shuts his eyes, tears slipping down from them.

Those memories, while dear to him, are now in the past.

Suddenly, Caleb heard a dark chuckle escape him, and a slowly but surely malice smile played on his lips.

"Fine, I will."

"It's what she deserves, dear brother." A cold chuckle escaped Philip, the younger pleased by his older brother's decision.

Meanwhile, his inner Philip was brimming with excitement as his eyes shimmered.

He was quite literally bouncing off the walls in his mind because of how cool Outer Caleb now appeared.

Perhaps he should be thankful that ****** chose to be unfaithful since it awoke the vindictive witch hunter in his brother.

"And I know exactly how you can do so."

While whispering in Caleb's ear, Philip shared his plan for how Caleb could turn ****** in before revealing the deal he made with Mr. Hopkins.

As he listened, Caleb nodded along to what he heard, grinning darkly.

...

The next day dawned warmer and brighter for ****** the witch as she, with her hood up, spent her morning near the forest's lake, happily hunting for the sparkliest stone she could find in the water.

Rumors have been swirling in her world that human stones may contain garnets.

Suddenly, ******'s eyes were shielded from behind by warm hands.

"Hmph?" she hummed faintly in confusion, a question mark appearing above her head as a sight gag.

"Guess who?" chimed a cheery voice with a British accent that ****** was all too familiar with as she giggled.

Once the hands were taken from her eyes, ****** turned around and saw a smiling Caleb standing before her.

"Hello, my love," he greeted as an elated ****** beamed, attempting to give Caleb a kiss on the cheek, only for the blonde to take a swift step back.

"Hmph?" ****** tilted her head at her beloved's decision to back away from her.

"Uh, love," Caleb began, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

He tried his best to keep eye contact with ****** as he asked, "I have a question. Have you perhaps..."

A hand reached up to scratch the back of his head as he continued. "Oh, I don't know, met with any other humans besides my brother and I? Any at all?"

Brown eyes shifted swiftly to the right before looking back at ******.

Caleb's smile weakened when she shook her head and smiled innocently at him. "A-Are you sure?" he asked again, his tone uneasy, almost heartbroken.

After ****** gave him another shake of her head, Caleb sighed and shut his eyes, deciding to proceed with what he had planned to do. "Very well then."

****** continued to smile.

She wanted to keep the other two humans she met a surprise and have them meet Caleb later today.

After shooting ****** an unreadable look, Caleb reached behind his back, retrieving a black blindfold as he soon tied it around ******'s head to cover her eyes.

The witch hummed a second time in confusion, tilting her head once more.

"Oh, why are you blindfolded, you ask?"

Caleb chuckled calmly, almost too calmly.

"Simple, love. I wish to take you somewhere special. It's a surprise, though. You like surprises, right?"

****** gasped. A surprise? For her? Eee! She vigorously nodded.

"Splendid! Let's get going then. I'll be your eyes and lead you there safety. You have my word."

Taking ******'s hand, Caleb took lead, treading through the forest.

During their walk, they pass a tall tree that Little Rascal is perched on a branch of as the raven watches them from above.

He doesn't think much of seeing Caleb enter the woods with his owner since they are on good terms.

After a small croak comes out of him, he decides to shut his eyes and drift into a small nap, half asleep and half awake.

...

With each step she took, ****** heard the crunching of twigs and plant debris cease as she now walked down a fresh new path.

Despite being unable to see it, her feet felt the familiarity of it.

"We're getting closer, love," Caleb informed her as he led her into town, ****** letting out a quiet squeal of excitement.

A sudden roar of applause came from the various townspeople in the marketplace as Caleb walked down with, from their standpoint, the guilty temptress who's been wreaking havoc in their sacred town.

Shining an anxious smile, Caleb kindly gestured with one hand for them to bring their cheers down a bit.

After all, he wanted ****** to be unaware of the fact that he was essentially leading her towards her death.

Her death.

****** ... dead.

'Turn back,' a soft voice of reason that sounded much like his own pleaded in the back of Caleb's head. 'Turn around. Don't go through with this. Please. It's not right. This isn't you. ****** doesn't deserve it.'

Caleb bit his lip but quickly shook the voice away, trying to shift his high anxiety into something more austere.

That voice was incorrect. This was indeed him. He was a witch hunter, and he knew exactly what he was doing.

...

"... You can sit down now," Caleb instructed in an unfriendly grumble to ****** as she abided, having a seat at... wherever she was.

Where was she exactly?

A shop? A store? Inside a home?

Regardless of where she was, she knew that she and Caleb were not the only ones present, as the atmosphere was filled with the tension of others.

****** heard whispers and hushed voices coming from all angles of, she assumed, the room.

She also felt not one, not two, not even three, but several sets of eyes on her.

****** soon sensed her blindfold being untied, and when the piece of black cloth fell, she opened her squeezed eyes and blinked, taking in... they immediately widened in disbelief.

She tried to feel her hands, only to see that they were bound.

The witch's form turned frozen as she was now stuck in a state of shock at what she saw, dread and panic rushing through her veins.

She felt her upper belly grow sore and her pale face got even paler.

****** slowly stood up.

She was... in the center of... a human courtroom? Yes, a courtroom. But... why? Why would Caleb take her to here of all places? Was... was this the "surprise" location that he was talking about?

****** felt her heart break.

Her nerves were causing her bile sac to not work despite her desperate desire to disappear and escape the room.

As she slowly viewed the court, ****** observed Caleb sitting with his brother at a round table to her right.

To her left, she saw a human man with a hat and beard who had the biggest look of triumph on his face.

His ears were also tucked and hidden beneath his hair.

Mr. Town Minister, sitting on the judge's bench, began to speak, his voice loud and commanding as he asked, "Witch, state your name for the court--"

Matthew Hopkins acted quickly, wasting no time in briskly standing from his seat to intervene.

"Objection, your highness!" The general crossed his arms, frowning a childish frown. "We don't care."

The gallery was filled with whispers of agreement, with some nodding in line with Hopkins' statement.

"Hmm...," hummed the minister in thought for a second before agreeing. "He's right," he said, taking Hopkins' side as he continued. "We don't care."

Hopkins sent an antagonizing smirk towards ****** as he stuck his tongue out at her.

The witch wasn't afraid to send him a glare, fiercely furrowing her brows at him.

Mr. Town Minister turned his gaze to Caleb.

"Caleb Wittebane, please step forward."

Caleb slowly stood, walking towards the center with a pacing heart and a head filled with certainties and uncertainties.

One part of his mind argued that he had to proceed with this. The opposing side asserted that he didn't.

The townsfolk in the gallery watched as the blonde stood next to the accused.

Caleb adjusted his gaze slightly to concentrate on her and started to stare.

'Wow,' he thought to himself, his inner self flushing some.

'Even when she's likely to come face-to-face with death today, she still looks so pretty and radiant.'

Wait... why was he thinking that?!

When ****** looked at Caleb briefly, their communication was silent.

His stare turned sour meeting hers, his gaze mixed with anger and hurt, meanwhile ******'s gaze was shattered, silently questioning Caleb why he was doing this.

His look huffed, 'Don't play dumb. You know precisely why.'

Mr. Town Minister cleared his voice before speaking. "You have been summoned to speak about this witch who has been consorting with the Devil's work throughout our great town. Is it true that she not only bewitched you but is also an advanced witch?"

Caleb looked over to Philip, who smiled encouragingly while his eyes looked worried, pleading for the oldest to say the right thing.

He then looked to Matthew Hopkins, eagerly awaiting the exposure of the witch.

Finally, Caleb gave once last glance to ******.

With tears nearing her eyes, she wordlessly begged the blonde not to do this.

This isn't you, spoke her eyes under her bangs.

Caleb sighed as his gaze returned to the minister.

Despite his guilt, he stood firm, refusing to let his emotions dictate his decision.

He's not sorry.

Taking a breath, Caleb revealed, "Yes, Mr. Minister. That is true. She... did bewitch me. And..."

Caleb looked to Philip again, who gestured for him to pull ******'s hood down.

He sighed once more. "And... she is..." Caleb's hand went to yank ******'s hood off her head, exposing her pointed ears to the court. "An advanced witch."

An audible gasp escaped those in the gallery as they directed their shocked eyes at ******'s ears.

Fathers were forced to cover their children's eyes (although they tried to peek), as mothers had to soothe their crying babies.

Matthew Hopkins also gasped, in the most overdramatic way, of course, pretending to be shocked by the reveal. "And a collective gasp fills the courtroom," he narrates with a sly smirk.

The Minister's nose scrunched up immediately in disgust at the sight of the unnatural shape of the witch's ears.

"You may be seated," he told Caleb, who nodded before walking back to his seat.

Sitting down, he tried not to give any attention to the tears rolling down ******'s cheeks as regret clawed at his chest.

After a loud bang from his gavel, Mr. Town Minister said sternly, with not a hint of empathy in his voice, "Nameless witch, based on the reactions of today's trial, this court finds you..."

The minister held his words in the air for about 20 seconds, even though everyone knew what he was going to say.

"Guilty for the crimes of witchcraft and being an advanced witch, as well as causing the infants in the courtroom to cry. You are condemned to be burned at the stake. May your soul slowly decay in Heck with your creator."

The trial comes to a close as the minister hits his gavel again.

...

Present day sees Philip approach his brother's bedside, standing there with a sad, sympathetic expression on his face.

"Caleb," Philip spoke, a sense of gentle care and worry in his voice. "You must stop being sad about that witch. It's not beneficial for you."

...

Upon the last faint glow of the sun over the horizon, the entire town gathered in the square with eager anticipation of the death that was about to occur.

The crowd roared with cheers as three townsmen led the guilty ****** to the wooden platform, some shouting insults towards the teen witch.

Standing on said platform, Caleb was alongside Matthew Hopkins and other witch hunters, with the town minister coming to take a stand.

As he watched ****** being tied to the stake, the blonde made an effort to suppress any sympathy he felt.

Following the minister's proclamation and Hopkins' self-absorbed speech, Caleb was presented with a torch by the minister, who honored him with the task of sending the temptress where she belonged.

Fingers closed around the torch's handle hesitantly as Caleb turned to face ******, appearing cold and unsympathetic.

Tears streamed down the witch's face as she silently begged Caleb to show her mercy.

She did not wish for him to do this.

She loved him.

'Her tears are deceitful,' Caleb told himself. 'Just like her.'

His mind screamed at him to light the pyre and end this, but his body refused to comply.

At this point, Caleb was uncertain about what to do.

Is it better for him to listen to his head... or his heart?

"Oh, give it here!" Matthew Hopkins snatched the torch out of Caleb's hand, who was too occupied with glaring daggers at ****** to react.

He huffed. "You're taking far too long, Caius."

Hopkins lowered the torch and ignited the wood beneath ******'s feet in a matter of seconds.

Afterward, the flames roared, consuming the witch completely, and she screamed an agonizing scream from the burning fire.

As the fire rose, ****** felt herself cook in the flames.

During her last moments of life, she saw the boy who brought so much happiness and joy into her life look at her with anger and tears.

The human beside him just smirked, bidding her goodbye with a small wave of his hand.

Philip stuck out in the crowd like a sore thumb to ****** as he stared directly at her.

As her eyes slowly closed, she witnessed the brunette giving her a chilling smile, his blue eyes bright and glowing with contentment.

...

"Oh, Philip," Caleb quietly choked out, still faced away from his brother as he was unable to fight back the tears that soon poured down his eyes.

He sniffled. "You just don't understand..."

Philip furrowed his brows at Caleb's statement.

"And what is it that I don't understand, dear brother?" the brunette questioned in a smart aleck tone, sounding almost offended. "That you played a role in the witch's death? Because I do, Caleb Wittebane. Caleb bane of witches."

Caleb's anger started to rise as he swiftly rose up in bed, staring at Philip.

"You take that back right now!" Caleb growled.

Philip only smiled darkly and shook his head, refusing to take back his words.

"No," he retorted, making Caleb visibly more upset as he sighed.

"Oh, Caleb. Talking about that witch always brings out the worst in you, doesn't it?"

Caleb swiftly jumps out of bed.

"Hey! What are you...?" Philip watches Caleb rush over to his bed and swipe his journal.

"Oh, Philip, lookie what I have!" Caleb taunted with a massive grin, wiggling the book in a teasing manner.

Philip clenched his teeth. "Put my journal down now, you dumb witch lover!"

"Then take back what you said," Caleb commanded as he started flipping through pages.

"Never!" Philip shouted.

His older brother stopped at a particular page in his journal and stared at it for a bit.

It expanded his smug grin.

He showed it off to Philip. "Ooo, who's this, Pip?" he asked, referring to the drawing of his dream girl. "Your imaginary girlfriend, I assume?"

Philip's face immediately burned red with rage and embarrassment.

"At least I have one!" he spat. "Unlike you...," he mumbled with a huff.

"I'll give you one last chance to take back what you said, Philip, otherwise..."

Caleb shined a bold, playful grin. "She'll be mine."

He held the dream girl near his lips to show that he was serious with his threat.

"No. she. won't!" Philip hissed out in unbridled anger.

Caleb noticed that Philip had something in his hand and turned his attention to his left hand to see a crooked dagger that was tightly gripped.

The blonde's eyes widened as he lowered the journal and took a step back, alarm on his face.

"A dagger?" Caleb took a cautious step back, keeping a close eye on the weapon.

He gently set the journal back on Philip's bed.

"Philip, what are you doing with a dagger?"

He usually saw Philip with one of his old carving knives, but never a dagger.

Philip was taken aback when he saw the dagger in his left hand.

He hadn't even realized that he had instinctively pulled it out.

Putting it away, he mumbled out, "It was a gift."

"A gift? From who?"

"None of your business, that's who!"

Caleb shook his head with a tired and heavy sigh, pressing his fingers against his temples.

He was far too distraught about ******'s death to even contemplate the knife his brother had.

Trudging to bed, he stood near his bedside and collapsed over it.

His sadness quite literally weighed him down as his sulking began.

"******...," Caleb whispered her name regretfully, his face pressing into his bed, making him sound muffled as he continued his mourning.

Philip merely rolled his eyes at his brother's dramatics, his face dour.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry." Caleb shook his head in despair, his voice trembling.

"Your infectious smile, your wonderful laughter, all gone. It's all gone... because of me. Unfaithful or not, you didn't deserve the faith that was dealt to you. I... I..."

He sobbed. "I didn't even get to see the Demon Realm with you."

"Demon... Realm?" Philip raised a confused brow at what his brother was whining about. "What's that?"

"Oh, it's where ****** lives. Well, used to live now," Caleb sadly explained with a sniffle.

"To get there, she used a special key, the one she always wore around her neck, that unlocks a magical door. Although I was never able to witness her use the key, she told me that's how it worked."

Caleb began to ponder whether or not he should have revealed that information to his brother.

Demon Realm...? Special keys...? Magical doors...?

Philip narrowed his brows at his griping brother, speaking sharply to him.

"Caleb Wittebane... this entire time, you knew of a realm filled with advanced witches existed... and yet you didn't decide to tell me?"

"Well, now you know!" Caleb cried out, his voice cracking with emotion as he tried to cease his shaking.

Philip rolled his eyes once more.

"Furthermore, what did you mean by when you said you didn't get to see the Demon Realm with her? What? Were you going to leave me here forever to go be with her?" Philip hoarsely asked.

"Leave you forever?" Caleb lifted his face from his mattress to look at Philip. "Of course not," he answered truthfully. "My sole intention was to visit for a day."

Philip did not appear to accept Caleb's claim.

"Caleb...," Philip began, his voice so gruff and serious that it made a shiver run up the eldest's spine as he listened.

Blue eyes suddenly flashed in a blaze of excitement.

"We have to go find that key! We simply must! Imagine if we did!? We'd look for that magical door next and open it. Once we're in the Demon Realm, we would go on a witch massacre, obliterating every witch in sight. I even say we should wipe the realm in its entirety. Once we do, we'd return home and show everyone in town our accomplishment! We'll be heroes, Caleb! Heroes!" Philip cheered.

The brunette swiftly rushed over to the closet door, opening it as he grabbed his most favorite jacket.

"I'm certain ****** still has that silly key around her neck."

Philip continued.

"She was probably tossed and buried in some unmarked grave in the town burial ground."

A twisted chuckle left Philip at the thought, slipping his jacket on.

The very thought made Caleb's stomach drop.

Philip soon began tying up his hair before suggesting determinedly, "Let's go dig her up and rip that key right off her neck! It'll be fun, Caleb, and it might even make you feel better."

Caleb highly doubted that would fix his heartache as he sighed. "Philip," the blonde began as he stood up, walking over to the closed window curtains.

"You know what happens every October 31st in Gravesfield," Caleb informed with gentle sternness, opening the curtains while still looking at Philip, not reacting to the two pale-ish green specters that used to be humans, accused of witchcraft, shambling by.

Their eyes glowed red, their skin was ashen and blotchy, and a deep bruise radiated out from their throats.

A sight gag commences, the scene pausing to display a set of blackletter words being written on screen in ink that reads:

'Every October 31st, during the night, the Puritans who were accused of witchcraft and hanged for their 'crimes' come back from the dead to seek revenge on the living. This is a curse that has a negative impact on the town of Gravesfield. Everyone is told to stay indoors until the next morning during the invasion, as that's when it ends.'

"It's too dangerous to go out there," Caleb frowned.

Philip simply chuckled in overconfidence, his brave face being genuine.

"The undead don't frighten me, Caleb. And besides, I have this!" Philip whipped out his dagger before dashing out of the room.

His footsteps were heard as he ran downstairs.

"Hey!" Caleb exclaimed, rushing to the closet to grab his jacket as he attempted to put it on while chasing after Philip.

"Don't leave the house without me!"

...

Philip and Caleb cautiously walked through the town burial ground, carrying shovels in their hands and keeping their distance from the undead that staggered around.

Caleb experienced a feeling of numbness as he inhaled the cold air before exhaling with a sigh.

Was this a horrible idea?

Of course it was, Caleb acknowledged in his head, yet the oldest Wittebane would continue onward with his brother.

"We've already dug up four unmarked graves so far, but ******'s body wasn't in any of them," Philip whispered to Caleb in slight frustration.

"Where could that witch be?" he wondered aloud.

Caleb sighed once more, his brown eyes surveying the area for more headstones without names.

Suddenly, gazing forward, he spotted a familiar black bird clinging to a stone that had no name on it.

The raven's posture was drooping, and it seemed to be mourning for the person who was below the ground.

Little Rascal...

"She's there." Caleb pointed to the bird and tombstone.

"What?" Philip glanced in that direction before returning his gaze to his brother. "Caleb, how do you know?"

"I...," Caleb paused before sighing. "I just have a gut feeling she's there," he explained before grinning mischievously.

"Let's take a look." He made an effort to show enthusiasm and interest for his brother.

Grinning back at Caleb, Philip nodded and followed his brother to the tombstone.

Little Rascal, taking note of the two human boys who were approaching, adjusted his posture and took a defensive position as he produced a harsh sound at them.

He was aware that both of these wicked witch hunters were responsible for his owner's demise as he witnessed her last moments from the sky, and he would not permit either of them to come near her.

The aggressiveness of Little Rascal's trill brought Caleb to a halt, as he felt horrible, guilt written all over face while ******'s death replayed in his mind.

Her pain-filled eyes, her excruciating screams, the sight of her burning away...

"Shoo, shoo!" Philip swung his shovel wildly at Little Rascal but missed several times as the bird managed to evade his attempts to harm him.

As he continued to miss, Philip produced irritated grunts. He once again raised his shovel over his shoulder. "Stand still so I can kill you already, you stupid bird!" Philip screamed.

Bringing his shovel down, Philip managed to strike Little Rascal with the back of the blade, knocking him down.

Caleb let out a small gasp, covering his mouth with his hand as he watched in shock the raven slowly taking in air, a green essence leaking from the small crack in his body.

When their eyes met, a pang of pain throbbed in Caleb's heart as Little Rascal gazed sadly and weakly at the blonde, disappointed in the human.

Rising slowly to his feet, wincing slightly at the pain, the raven gently spread his wings, flapping them as if he were a fledgling, as he took flight into the night sky.

"Caleb!" Caleb took his guilt-ridden gaze off of Little Rascal to look at Philip.

"I can't do this alone. Help me dig!" Philip was casually smiling as if he hadn't just injured an innocent animal.

"Oh! ... R-Right," Caleb replied with a weak smile as he began to help his brother shovel out the soil of ******'s grave.

Following the removal of all the dirt, the brothers saw ****** sleeping eternally in the hole that was made for her.

Philip grimaced at her appearance, pinching his nose with his index and thumb, while Caleb gazed softly at her with a melancholic expression on his face.

Her pale skin was now a sickly, blotchy green color, with scars and blisters from her burns covering her from head to toe.

'Even in death, ******...,' Caleb spoke softly to himself, words of genuine love and deep regret spilling out in his tone.

His hands slowly reached towards ******'s neck. 'You still look like an angel...,' Caleb said, removing her key necklace from off of her.

Slipping it into his pocket, he smiled a faint yet gentle smile down at the corpse.

Wherever ****** was, be it Heaven, Heck, or in-between, Caleb hoped that she was at peace and the happiest she's ever been.

Happy...

If only he could--

Whack!

The blonde jolted at the impact sound, turning to look at Philip.

His brother had just delivered a sharp blow to ******'s face with the back of his shovel.

Caleb's eyes narrowed at the youngest. "Philip!" he angrily hissed.

"What?" Philip chuckled with an innocent smile, shrugging his shoulders. "She's already dead," he tried to justify.

Caleb huffed as he gave a roll of his eyes, shaking his head as annoyance started to consume him.

With his shovel, Caleb removed some dirt from the pile that he and Philip had created and deposited it back into ******'s grave, ultimately returning all of it.

She was completely concealed as Caleb sighed out a little white cloud.

"Alright, Pip. Let's go h--"

"Uhhhhggghhh..."

Caleb swiftly turned his gaze to Philip, shooting him the stink eye. "Philip, that's not funny," he sternly stated.

"Uh, C-Caleb...," Philip stuttered in fear, pointing a trembling finger behind his brother.

"Th-Th-That wasn't me!"

"Huh?"

"Uhhhhggghhh..."

"Uhhhhggghhh...!"

"UHHHGGGHHHH!!!"

Caleb froze. He didn't dare look behind him, but when he slowly did, he saw...

His pupils dilated.

"AAAAAA!!!" screamed both Caleb and Philip in unison, waves of cold adrenaline flushing their bodies as they clinged to each other for dear life.

Now surrounding the Brothers Wittebane were a horde of the undead, the rotting beings releasing horrible hisses from their throats, craving human flesh.

The zombie in front of and closest to the boys opened his mouth, his yellow and decaying teeth on full display.

"AAAAA!!!" cried the boys once more, their grip tightening as they shut their eyes.

The zombie mob stumbled ahead, eager to savor their prey.

The nearest zombie leaned forward towards Philip and Caleb, opening his mouth wider as blood dripped down his non-existent lips, ready to take a significant bite out of the siblings.

That is until...

(Oh) I am the Candyman

(Oh) Comin' from Bountyland

(Oh) I am the Candyman

(Oh) Comin' from Bountyland

The unexpected, bubblegum dance-pop song ["Lollipop (Candyman)"] playing so suddenly and without warning in the background as a random gag acts as head shots to the zombies, with them moaning and groaning in pain, covering their ears.

Some even fall to their knees.

Sensing the absence of zombie bites on their bodies, Philip and Caleb slowly opened their eyes to see the zombies being physically enfeebled by... the strange music playing out of the blue?

I wish that you were my lollipop

Sweet things, I will never get enough

If you show me to the sugar tree

Will you give me a soda pop for free

Hearing it, they were equally confused as they slowly turned to look at each other.

However, they noticed that the song impeded the zombies from attacking them, and a knowing grin soon crept onto their faces.

Instinct kicked in as they formed a wordless plan and nodded in agreement to it.

Come with me, honey

I'm your sweet sugar Candyman

Run like the wind

Fly with me to Bountyland

Bite me, I'm yours

If you're hungry, please understand

This is the end of

The sweet sugar candyman

Both brothers proceeded at the same time, with Caleb moving to handle the zombies on the right and Philip moving to take care of the undead on the left.

One zombie was met with the back of Caleb's shovel to the face, his head being knocked clear off of his body as a colorful and dazzling explosion of hearts, rainbows, glitter, and blood shoots out the top of the zombie's headless neck.

Philip's shovel came crushing down on a zombie's head, and the same colorful and bloody essence came forth from her as she fell.

Oh, my love, I know you are my Candyman

And oh, my love, your word is my command

Oh, my love, I know you are my Candyman

And oh, my love, let us fly to Bountyland

Caleb and Philip's shovels remained effective in striking and bashing the undead, their strikes timing with the beat.

Caleb turned his gaze as he spotted a feral grin on Philip's face.

His clothes were stained with blood and rainbow glitter, blood splatter smeared across his cheeks.

Caleb, noting that his clothes and cheeks were in a similar state, smiled broadly at his brother, who smiled back at him.

Philip's glee was impossibly contagious, Caleb thought.

It's been a while since the two of them had such genuine fun like this.

...

The light of early morning was brought into the sky by dawn as it rose.

The undead, similar to the night, began to die down, resulting in the moving corpses becoming motionless once again.

One zombie, quite literally hoping around on its last leg as it faltered, was swiftly brought to an end with one powerful down strike to the head by both boys' shovels, with the song ending.

Caleb, looking to Philip, who shared the same smile and mischievous gleam in his eyes as him, gave his brother a playful ruffle to his hair.

Philip absorbs the affection, his aura brimming with confidence.

After a freeze frame captures the two brothers, the show transitions to an art nouveau style and displays Caleb and Philip's list of hobbies alongside them in blackletter.

At the end of their list of hobbies, another hobby is added with an invisible pen, this hobby being 'dismembering the undead'.

...

As they were walking home, Caleb and Philip reminisced and joked about the zombie battle, sharing their favorite parts with each other.

Upon reaching the front door, Caleb opened it, and both him and Philip stepped inside before freezing.

They were taken aback, even though they shouldn't be at this point, by the person they saw in their sitting room.

"Oh, hello!" Mr. Kookman turned to greet the boys with his usual smile, waving a hand at them that held a bar of soap.

His attire and some of his face were covered with the same blood and glitter that came from the zombies.

Henrietta let out a cluck, giving her feathers a gentle flap as she fluttered in the barrel bucket filled with soapy water.

"I hope you boys don't mind me giving my Henrietta a bath in here. She doesn't enjoy receiving baths during the invasion," Mr. Kookman told them.

Henrietta proceeded to cluck again.

That was Mr. Kookman's cue to lather her feathers. He turned back around to do so, even adding salt to the bathwater.

"Uh...," Caleb blinked twice. "N-Not at all," he answered politely, attempting not to sound befuddled as he motioned for Philip to follow him upstairs. "Just make sure to close the door on your way out."

The two were terribly tired after last night and needed some shut-eye.

They would clean themselves off after a long nap.

...

A boisterous family of witches hurry into their cottage, making it just in time before the boiling rain starts pouring down.

All of them sigh with relief, but sad looks soon appear on their faces.

One of the members of their close family has gone missing, and they've been looking all over the Boiling Isles for her for months.

She was a good daughter, a sweet sister, a fantastic student, and a wonderful witchlet.

She was ******.