#he gives life advice to all his siblings

[sadlynotthevoid]

I want to read a lcf fic where tboah cale from a shitty alt-universe gets thrown to lcf universe and now krs!Cale has to deal with an 18-20-year-old tboah!Cale with below zero self-esteem.

And it's permanent.

The universe-hop thing, not his low self-esteem (I hope).

Tboah!Cale doesn't mind staying there. Maybe he ended world-hopping on purpose, maybe he knew beforehand he was changing universes, maybe it was worth it, maybe he thought no one was going to miss him anyways. Maybe all of them.

And the Henituse family welcomes him. They're warm, they try to make him feel like one of them, they include him, talk with him, smile at him. They listen to him, actually listen, and try to get to know him—

—And that's more than anyone has done since his mom passed away.

They all have their ups and downs, of course. But they're slowly becoming a family and that means so much. And everyone is happy about it, too.

The most excited one out of them is Lily. She has four brothers now, even if she can't see one of them too often. Y'know, different worlds and everything. Besides, this new brother of hers practice martial arts like her—well, not exactly like her, but he fights— and joins at her training sometimes. He also fights as he walks, like an elegant cat. And she thinks that's cool and cute.

Deruth and Violan are going through an emotional roller coaster, just at different speeds. They both, although delighted to have another son, are experiencing a lot of feelings about the situation. Mostly worry about their new child who gets surprised every time someone is genuinely kind to him, but also shock because they have five children.

Still, Violan is overall content that all Cales are minimum willing to try, calmly bounding with each of them at their own rhythm each one. Tboah!Cale and her have styling afternoons once a week now. Deruth, on the other side, is silently having an existential crisis after another, overthinking about every reaction tboah!Cale has and wondering if og!Cale did or does the same, and feeling worse every time he can't remember. He already ordered Hans to punch him if he gets too trapped on it or does something stupid. He doesn't want to charge any of his children with that again.

Bassen accepted the whole world-hopping-alt!hyung really quick because he just got used to weird shit from krs!Cale and Cale!Roksoo's unique ways of thinking. Something like this was just bond to happen at some point.

He caught tboah!Cale's bad mental state on the first hours of meeting him and assumed it had to do something with their other selves. He just wants to know, why does his brother have to suffer in every life? At least he can do something about it now.

Bassen is very surprised when they announce that tboah!Cale is staying. He thought that was a given. Was it not?

Then they proceed to insist that the other should be the heir. Tboah!Cale wins but not for the reason he expected.

After some time living in this world with his new family, getting to know each other and healing, meeting Krs!Cale's friends, and just learning to be himself, Krs!Cale gets in his usual shit. Tboah!Cale is not amused. He goes after him, kick some people in the face, set fires a bad guy's pants, and comes back, wearing heels, with Krs!Cale over his shoulder.

That's how he and Alberu meet.

[girlivealwaysbean]

dni.

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Sometimes I feel like us as the bat family fandom forget how starry eyed people get about Nightwing canonically.

Because with the exception of early era Tim most of the Batkids are like. lol that’s my loser older brother or some variation of yeah…he’s some guy I guess? He helps me with homework?

And Nightwing is the canonically a center of multiversal light.

When Heroes meet Nightwing they do the vigorous handshake and the “it’s an honor to meet you sir, I have heard so much about you oh my god”

There are so many character where they are literally shown giggling and kicking their feet whenever Nightwing talks to them.

Even the people who don’t have the celebrity level worship of him respect the hell out of him and call him as soon as they need help.

From raven to Starfire to Superman to Superboy to all or the flashes there is so much respect and awe given to this one dude.

And it is deserved

But imagine you are Damian Wayne and you’ve been working with what 90% of the people you’ve met (all bats) have been calling an embarrassment to your father’s legacy.

Your mother hates him and your Grandfather doesn’t feel that strongly about him.

The red hood calls him an embarrassment and a coward and he couldn’t even keep Red Robin from running away.

Your father tells him that he never should have been Batman

And you’ve worked with him and you know what you think everyone is full of shit about him and you and him the new Batman and Robin are the best no matter what anyone says.

And fuck it the fact he keeps going in a suit that everyone tells him he’s not good enough for is scratching something in your brain that you’re refusing to acknowledge because why would you feel that way? You are the circus freak have nothing in common (shut up)

And then you meet the justice league and all the extended teams.

And people are falling over themselves to listen to a word out of your brothers, your Batman’s mouth. They wait for a nod or headshake and dictate decades worth of planning on it.

Both Drake and Todd’s hero teams ask him for advice with or without their designated bats presence.

The man of steel asks for child rearing advice and wonder woman cracks a joke about a spar

Newer heroes whisper about him in the halls

He’s literally your favorite hero’s favorite hero

And it’s breaking Damian’s Brain

Because well… he kinda gets slapped around in Gotham. He’s the butt of half the jokes the other Batkids make and Dick just smiles and takes it.

The rogues have a bounty on nightwings ass and he gets leered at by goons, rogues, civilians and anti-hero’s alike and he doesn’t say anything.

He lets oracle crack jokes about a pretty face and having to do everything herself

Let’s Jason run the alley despite the fact that apparently he knows how to take it back

Apparently he’s had 12 people tailing Drake since Paris and despite being the man Ra’s Al Ghul calls detective has yet to notice. (Because you can’t tell me Dick was just magically at the right place to catch Tim falling to his death on coincidence)

And necessary to peace talks because he’s the best they have at deescalation

Like imagine you are a child who was raised to believe power is this obvious, all consuming thing. That the ones who control the board are visibly larger than life figures who fought their way to the top and cling to power by even the thinnest hangnail if they had to.

People who ignore simpler morals or an overall greater goal or good

And then you’re taken in by the man who whispers the correct answers into the larger than life figures ear.

Like I feel like that would have such an impact because Dick didn’t take power from anyone to reach his goals, it’s why his siblings don’t really defer to him unless in crisis.

Dick didn’t take power, no people just looked at him and decided he was the best option to give it to.

Everyone basically looked at this kid and went, yeah you’re the future of all heroism.

And if that dude can’t even get Bruce Wayne’s respect what chance does Damian Wayne have

[caffeinewitchcraft]

AITA for going no contact with my brother after he pulled a scare on my husband?

EDIT: For those of you coming here from my brother’s post (X) to shit on me, you look like idiots. Try to have an original thought and really contemplate who’s telling the truth after hearing both sides.

I (32f) am one of three siblings. We come from a very well off family. My dad is a former Cryptid and he pioneered the Hook Man in the 70s, so he still gets residuals off of that. We grew up very comfortable and with the ability to do anything we wanted in life. My older brother went to a very prestigious school and my dad gave him the money for tuition. Because my older brother got scholarships, he was able to save some of that money. Right now he works in human tech (very lucrative), but his long-term plan is to use the money to start a Cyber Spook business once he is satisfied with his knowledge foundation.

I ended up taking a gap year before going to community college, but I never felt anything click. I worked part-time jobs spinning out scarer costumes and even did some part-time work as a slasher before deciding it wasn’t for me. I finally found my calling when I offered to help cater for my high school reunion, and now I run a fairly successful catering business.

When it came time for my younger brother, “Steve,” to get his money, he didn’t tell anyone what he was going to use it for. He was working as a Slasher at a small firm in town. We all assumed he’d either go to Scare School or invest the money to start a business like our older brother did.

So when Steve showed up to Halloween dinner one day, six feet taller with extra joints in his arms and legs, we were all shocked.

Dad was furious. He gave us all the same talk about the scare industry when we got our first part-time jobs documenting missions at his company. He told us that scare work was hard and backbreaking. We couldn’t buy our way into it or use his connections to become successful. If we were interested in it, we had to work our way up from the ground like he did. If we didn’t, we’d more than likely end up dead at the hands of a final girl.

He especially emphasized that mods had to be considered carefully and were NOT a substitute for skill.

Steve thought they were. When his company didn’t pay him back for his body modification AND didn’t promote him from Slasher to Regional Nightmare, he quit. But the surgeries drained his cash and he couldn’t afford his apartment anymore. He had to move back in with Mom and Dad. As always, Mom totally coddled him. She said that he didn’t have to pay rent and agreed with whatever he said when he’d go on these long tirades about his former company.

I could tell Dad wasn’t happy with the arrangement, but he’s never been able to go against Mom. So he mostly kept his mouth shut though he did try to get Steve a job at his old company. However, last I heard, Steve was set against anything corporate and was spending a dozen hours a day driving around using the app SlashDash to find jobs.

About a year and a half ago, I was over for dinner with Steve, Mom and Dad. Steve was talking about work. He said SlashDash wasn’t working out for him and was taking too many fees out. I offered advice since I’d done Slashing in high school. I recommended sites like Scarework and Midnighterr to get more gigs.

Mom told me I interrupted Steve. She gestured for him to continue and tell me about his exciting new setup.

Steve told me he was beyond the sites I recommended. He said he’d bought a scanner so he could listen to broadcasts of active corporate missions. When those fail, he arrives on scene to kill any straggling humans before the scare company in question can send a cleanup crew. And since he’s a Slasher on their scene, they have to give him emergency pay for doing it. It’s a total ambulance-chaser, bottom-feeder move.

Dad was just staring at his plate, not saying anything, but I could tell he was ashamed of Steve. Steve was bragging about being a vulture in the profession Dad helped build.

I asked Steve if he was proud of himself for living off of leftovers. Steve blew up at me, but so did Mom. She chided me for not respecting my brother’s hard work and that his idea to get a scanner was genius, not predatory.

After that dinner, Steve and I rarely talked. Most of the news I got about him came from our older brother bitching about Steve badgering him for scare connections or Mom bragging about Steve killing and “meeting quota.” She would get very cold with me when I told her he was finishing a quota someone else started and not doing his own work. She told me if I couldn’t respect Steve, then I was welcome to not come over while he lived with her.

(Yes, Steve’s always been the golden child.)

I stopped interfering with Steve and focused on my own life. Shortly after, I met my wonderful fiancé “Reginald” while catering an event at Dad’s old company. Reginald is the head of sanitation and he’s the one who gets sent out to clean up any unexpected events during a Scare (like any magical residue or body parts that can’t be explained away through human means). He used to want to be a Cryptid, but he’s got a heart condition that prevents him from working in the field. He says that he’s happy being the “janitor” and happier being with me 😊

Reginald and I got engaged after only eight months of dating. Dad always says that when you know, you know. I invited everyone in my family to an engagement party. Steve didn’t bother answering the invitation. Even though Steve and I weren’t on good terms, I was still hurt when he didn’t show.

When I confronted him about it afterwards, he said that he’d been promoted to Regional Nightmare and he was patrolling his territory, and that’s why he couldn’t come. I asked him what company he was working for, and he said he was still using the scanner.

I pointed out that he couldn’t be a Regional Nightmare without a state license since only the state can assign territories. He started going on and on about being his own “Monster” (and let me tell you, extra joints DOESN’T make you a Monster, those guys are way more committed) and that he had passed the state exam.

When I told Reginald about my brother calling himself a Regional Nightmare, he was concerned. He works closely with the legal department, and he said that Steve is opening himself up to lawsuits by declaring public slashing grounds as his “territory.” He offered to talk to Steve.

We went over to Mom and Dad’s house together to confront him. Dad didn’t know he was calling himself a Regional Nightmare and he went pale when I told them why we were there. Reginald explained to Steve and Mom that being certified was different than being licensed. Legally, Steve is a Slasher even if he can control shadows now (which is a VERY expensive talent to acquire if you aren’t born with it. I think Mom may have paid for it).

The conversation didn’t go well. Steve said a lot of nasty things about Reginald not hacking it as Slasher and claimed he was just jealous. He picked on Reginald’s health which I had me seeing red. I asked Steve what there was to be jealous of since he still mooches off of our parents? Mom got involved and it went downhill from there.

All this to say that I didn’t expect Steve to show up at my gender reveal party less than 5 months later.

Reginald and I weren’t planning on kids this early, but we knew it was meant to be as soon as I got that pregnancy test back. We decided to put off our wedding so that our baby can be part of the ceremony that makes us a family. That being said, I did still have a lot of things ordered for the wedding so I turned the day into a baby shower/gender reveal instead.

That brings us to the party my lovely brother wrote about. First of all, he wasn’t invited by me. Mom invited him, and when I found out, I wasn’t happy with her, considering he never apologized to Reginald after our last fight.

Reginald was stuck at work (some idiot brought together a whole summer camp of final girls and the aftermath was brutal) so I had to force myself to be a good hostess. It was mostly fine. We have good friends and my older brother was very kind in helping me with some of the baby games we were planning to play when Reginald finally got there.

Steve, however, was NOT helpful.

He was annoying the whole time. He messed with the kitchen and he hounded the guests. I’m PREGNANT and the smell of raw meat triggers my gag reflex. He took the meat off the heat without me noticing and basically prevented me from eating lunch with everyone else.

Additionally, Steve claimed in his post that the party was dying??? Reginald and Dad have a lot of friends in common so the party did NOT die. They were all interested in talking to Dad. Dad’s voice is very quiet and raspy from strain over the years, so everyone was being quiet to hear him better. Steve was the one practically screaming over him to talk about his scummy job. The new Hook Man who succeeded Dad was there and Steve basically treated the poor man like a novice even though he’s a Cryptid.

Reginald finally got home and I could tell he was exhausted when I met him at the door. He still put on a smile for me though and said he didn’t need to miss out even when I told him it would be okay. He wanted to be there in our big moment to celebrate our family. He went upstairs to change.

I went back to the guests to tell them that we would start the games soon. That’s when I heard Reginald scream and fall down the stairs.

I’ll never forget the look on Reginald’s face. He was lying at the base of the stairs and looked like he was dying. He was gasping for breath and clutching at his chest. I was terrified his heart was giving up. I asked Hook Man to call an ambulance.

That’s when Steve started laughing.

I lost it. I screamed at Steve to get out. He told me to calm down, he’d just scared Reginald a little bit as a joke. I told him he knew about Reginald’s heart condition and that it was incredibly disrespectful to scare my fiancé in our own house.

He said he didn’t mean to scare him that bad, but that he was just better at it than he thought. His scares were too powerful. He seemed smug and was still laughing.

I accused him of intentionally hurting Reginald because of the licensing versus certification argument we had. I said he was a bully and an idiot.

Mom jumped in and said it was an accident.

Dad FINALLY said something. He shadow-walked (the first time in YEARS) up the stairs and hooked Steve by the neck. He dragged all twelve feet of him down the stairs and told him to get out.

Steve said, “For what? It’s not my fault that weak-hearted son of a bitch can’t take a joke.”

Dad lost it. He told Steve a REAL scarer wouldn’t use their abilities like that on their own families. He told Mom and Steve it didn’t matter if he meant it as a joke. The fact is he used his scare tactics on a layperson, and he could get blacklisted from the profession for it.

Dad kicked Steve out and told him he wasn’t welcome back into the basement until he got a REAL job. Steve kept arguing, but the paramedics arrived then and I lost track of the rest of it.

I went with Reginald to the hospital where Reginald insisted we both get checked out. The stress wasn’t good for the baby and doctor told me it might be best to go on maternity leave sooner rather than later. Reginald is also going to be taking a leave from work. He had a heart attack because of my brother.

Things could have ended worse, but they didn’t end well. I told my parents that I refuse to have Steve at my wedding or even to see my child after they’re born (and now I STILL don’t know the gender! Only our older brother knows since he got the gender reveal cake).

Mom started to protest, but Dad said he understood. He said that both he and Mom just wanted me to be happy and healthy and that they would take care of Steve.

So now I leave it up to you. Having read both of our posts, who do you think is the real asshole? My brother for being “proud” of scaring my fiancé into a heart attack at our baby’s gender reveal party? Or me for never talking to said brother again for the health of my future family?

AITA?

----

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See you next week!

This week's story is based on this (x) prompt from Writing-prompt-s:

You are a person who covers your counter space in clutter and inadvertently makes a shrine to a long forgotten god who shows up to thank you.

[captainamericasmotercycle]

Hiiii. I hope you are well. I would like to request a Cregan Stark x reader where they’re newlyweds and Cregan is doing everything he can to get reader to like him as she barely talks to him and keeps to herself because her mother basically told her to not expect him to be a kind gentle husband like the ones she’s read in books. The two slowly grow close once reader sees the effort Cregan has been putting in. Thank you!

i've never written for cregan before so i hope i did him justice <3

warnings: uncomfortable talk of women? (from your mother and sisters), you are his first wife (rickon doesn't exist yet), canon divergent, reader's family is not specified

a/n: this could possibly have a second part... all feedback is welcomed!!

When the news broke that Lord Cregan Stark was looking to take a new wife, your father was not hesitant to offer up your hand.

Your family resided close to the North, and your father needed Lord Stark as an ally in case any conflict arose suddenly. Within only a single moon, Lord Stark agreed to take you to wed.

It was not in your plans to be forced into a marriage, but rather find someone to love and live a long and prosperous life with.

"You know he is not going to be kind, not like the silly tales you read of," your mother, of course, prepared you for your impending doom of a marriage, as she implied.

You wanted to die. If only you were not a high-born lady, you could choose your fate.

"You cannot expect him to tend to you every moment of the day, at all even," you remember your older sisters joining the two of you, helping you to know what will become of you.

"He will take you as he wishes, and you will comply."

"You will lay with him until he finds pleasure and discards of you."

"But.. will I find pleasure?"

They laughed at you, both of your sisters and your mother. You did not wish to be trapped in a loveless marriage.

"No, if anything, he will find some cheap whore to busy himself with, until it is time for you to give him heirs."

"You mustn't talk to him unless spoken to first-"

"And you mustn't speak your mind, ever."

They filled your head with their advice until the day of your wedding. It was a small gathering just within the walls of Winterfell. Your family attended, as well as Cregan's uncle, a couple members of his council, and his half siblings.

During the post-ceremony celebration, you stayed timid, smiling gently whenever Cregan looked at you, or when your mother sent a pointed expressed to you.

You watched your brother, brothers-in-law, and father, eager to drink, but Cregan refrained.

Cregan tried to hold your hand, or lay his hand over your knee, succeeding in doing so, but you shied away from his touch, your body freezing up.

At the end of the night, the celebration winded down and you retreated to your new chambers, apart from Cregan's. You knew that he would be in to consummate the marriage soon, so you prepared yourself, trying to find a place in your head you could go to escape.

As your maidens dressed you for the night, a soft knock was heard on the door, one of your maids scurried to see who would come at such a late hour.

"My Lady Stark, it is your lord husband."

Lady Stark. Quite the title.

"Let him in, and leave us."

She and the other maids left the newlyweds as requested. He stood at the door, quite the ways away from you.

"Did you enjoy the celebration?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Please, call me Cregan, I am your husband now."

"Yes, my- Cregan," he moved slightly towards you.

"Have I done something to offend you?"

"No, my lord."

"Cregan. And are you sure?"

"Yes, Cregan. I apologize, husband if I have not been attentive enough. I can be better, I promise. I can be a good wife," you begged him.

He said your name softly, seeing the utter fear in your eyes, "You have been perfect; there is no need for you to upset yourself."

"Have you come to consumate the marriage?"

"I figured you were too tired. Do you want to?"

You were taken aback by his question, you hadn't expected him to ask about you.

"I- I think I would prefer to rest," you bowed your head at him.

"As you wish, wife. I will see you in the morn," he walked to you and gently kissed the top of your head, then retreated to his own quarters.

-

The morn came and you were still not talking to him. Maybe you were just nervous to be away from your home is all and you just wanted some time to adjust to your new life.

Weeks passed and he tried to talk to you, but you only answered him with short responses. This worried him, what had he done to hurt you?

He decided to send you a new pelt, incase you wished to explore the gardens or the outside walls of Winterfell. He hoped to hear from you about the gift, but no word came back except for a thank you from your maid.

He did not understand why you would not talk to him. He began sending flowers almost every morn with your meal, he gifted you a horse, (which you had not even attempted to see since the first time he showed you), and he even went as far as obtaining you a direwolf pup as a wedding gift. The pup became as reclused as you.

He became frustrated with his failed attempts to connect with you, sulking around Winterfell, and it was very apparent in his commands.

He hadn't taken a trip to the wall in weeks, and he commanded his men to finish outrageous requests; lashing out at anyone who questioned him or seemed to breathe the wrong way.

You had not been eager to seek him out or talk to him, not even trying to leave the walls of Winterfell to explore the nearing city; just staying in the comfort of the castle's library and your chambers.

He wanted to see you, to build a bond with his new wife, but most of the time he was unable to find you; it seemed that you were hiding from him.

After almost a moon of short interactions and dodging his every move, he was ready to beg, luckily he finally cornered you in your chambers.

Instead of a maid coming to fetch you for supper, Cregan insisted that he go instead. He pushed open your doors, finding you sitting with a book near the window, your much larger direwolf pup at your feet

Your head shot up at the sudden noise, louder than you were used to at this hour. You set down your book, ready to stand at his presence, but he stalked over to you rather quickly.

He dropped to his knees at your feet, startling you, he stated your name, "Please tell me what I have done, I wish to see you, to speak to you."

"You have done nothing, husband. I will speak if you wish it."

"No! I want you to speak freely, what has made you shy away from me? I am trying to know you, to love you. Please, just tell me!"

Your gaze softened, "You want to love me?"

His face changed to confusion, "Of course. Have I dont something to make you assume otherwise?"

"Not you..."

"Who. Tell me. I will have their tongues."

"My mother... and my sisters. They spoke that you would not be kind, that I should not speak freely near you... that you would be too busy with cheap whores to notice me until you wanted an heir."

He set his large hands on your knees, "Every word of that is so untrue. I married you because I want to love you. Let me."

You looked at his eyes, yearning in them, "I want you to love me."

He pulled you to stand with him. He tugged you by the waist into him, peppering you with kisses, one near your eyebrow, one on your cheek, one on the tip of your nose, and finally one at the corner of your mouth. You smiled at him and his actions.

"There's that smile I so desperately have been wanting to see for over a moon."

You set your hands on either side of his face, kissing his lips softly, "I'm sorry that I have been so distant, I should have seen your efforts."

"I hold no grudge against you wife, I am just happy you are giving me another chance," he kissed you again.

"Shall we go to supper?" You nodded as he took your hand.

"Good. I think my men will be pleased to hear of our reconcile. I fear I have been more than unpleasant," you kissed his jaw.

"Well, we owe them an apology don't we?"

[boccellizv]

— stepdad!sylus x reader ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

synopsis: sylus becomes the daddy you never had.

tw: smut yaaay, stepcest, age gap, abandonment trauma, slightly inspired on ‘lolita’ and ‘the virgin suicides’, mentions of death, usage of ‘daddy’, kinda long ig, cheating, daddy issues, virginity loss, etc.

your mom marrying one of the most influential and rich man that society has ever seen was not on your life’s plans, not even the passing of your father.

as the oldest sister out of four you always had an eye on your parents relationship, having to be the one arbitraging their stupid fights and ordering them to stop bickering around when your siblings were asleep.

many would feel sorry for you when they found out about the responsibilities you had on your shoulders since such a young age, acknowledging the reason why you seemed so grown and mature; in reality it was all a facade to protect your sisters.

when you father fell ill you didn’t even flinch, and when he passed away a few months later you didn’t even cry. sure, you appreciated him but farther from the truth, he was just there.

you viewed him as a man you happened to live with, not a member of your family.

on the contrary, you looked up to your mother, being aware of the hard work she put to raise and provide to you and your sisters.

you tenderly recall the nights sitting on her vanity before going to bed as she detangled and oiled your hair, giving her advice as if she was your best friend.

the love for your mom was undeniable and you would always support every decision she’d make.

so when she invited her new boyfriend over to dinner you were as supportive as always, ordering your sisters to behave in his presence as you did their make up and advised them on their clothes.

but what you weren’t expecting when you walked downstairs was a tall and broad figure taking sit in the chair your father used to occupy, his white and lavish hair the only thing you could see from where you stood.

your siblings rushed to sit next to him, eager to form the stupidest questions ever made, as you walked towards the kitchen to help you mother with the rest of the preparations for dinner, coexisting in silence.

you weren’t blind, even as her daughter you could tell your mother was a beautiful woman. living her middle years after four pregnancies and keeping up a stunning figure and fancy features, carrying herself around as the elegant woman she always aspired to be.

⠀⠀　　“this one was unexpected, mom.” you spoke under your breath as your pulled out the plate from the oven, taking off the gloves and apron to gaze her way.

⠀⠀　　“you didn’t even speak to him yet, baby, give him a chance.” she stated, leaving the kitchen to place the utensils on the dining table.

and so you did. gave him a chance. your mom had some hookups along the passing months, nothing decent or closely acceptable.

you thought that’s what this was, a hookup. good sex that was invited to dinner a random night to then be dumped because he made the girls uneasy.

but you could tell this was not the case.

sylus was the name of the scary man sitting in front of you. the white hair you saw before put together neatly, thick eyebrows that dressed a pair of cat-like orbs, colored crimson.

you noticed as you ate the baked potatoes how his clothes were clearly too expensive for you to even think about, his perfume reaching your nostrils to the point you could almost taste it mixing with the garlic.

if your widowed mother was going to take advantage of the (you assumed) rich man you weren’t going to complain. because his money would be your mom’s, and your mom’s money would be yours.

later on you’d find out who sylus was, what was his place in the world. he’d mention companies you knew to be his, and you couldn't believe your luck.

⠀⠀　　“so, if you live in such a high end environment, how’d you two meet?” you questioned after sipping on some water, crossing your arms.

⠀⠀　　“we simply bumped into each other at one of my restaurants. your mother was the waitress and spilled some whine on my shirt.” he lightly answered with a deep voice that got stuck in your head for the rest of the day.

sylus seemed to adore your mom, and you were happy for her, really.

he started to come over your humble home more and more often, and your sisters couldn’t stop talking about him and yearn to spend time together.

‘have you seen his hands?’, ‘today his pants were tighter than usual.’, ‘his lips look so kisseable.’ blah blah blah.

they were fixated on this stupid tradition your mom started, friday movie night. the man would come home and stay the night after watching movies together as a big and happy family.

an excuse to fuck your mother, you thought. you seemingly knew it all, you knew everybody’s mind.

but as smart as you thought you were, you couldn’t acknowledge sylus’ admiration for you, the oldest sister. he’d stare at you and wonder if this yearning was even moral.

he would fixate his red eyes on you when nobody else was watching, would take in how you munched on the popcorn he prepared and how your glasses framed your perfectly structured face. the mere thought of you was chasing him around every second of the day, even when he was with your mom, his fiancée.

the imagine of your started to replace your mom’s, he started to imagine you were the one he was pounding so hard into. started to fantasize about taking you out to these fancy dinners instead of your her.

he even sneaked into your room after fucking and waiting for her to fall asleep, just to sit next to you in your bed and caress your hair with his knuckles, going down until his hand cupped your cheeks and your oh-so-desirable lips formed a pout.

it was all wrong, he knew that.

taking advantage of your innocence? he knew you were the most mature amongst your sisters, but you were very naive still. sylus loved showing you things you didn’t know about, talking of countries you never heard of and teaching you random facts about anything.

he knew how to make you desire him as much as he desired you. you both started to spend more time together in an organic way you couldn’t notice, him being more and more present in your every day life.

he started taking you and your sisters to class, you being the last one he kissed on the cheek goodbye, closer to your lips than he did to your siblings. he sat next to you every chance he got, his big palm wrapping around your thigh when nobody else was looking, arriving home with gifts for you and you only, taking you out on secret dates.

and so you did, you fell in love with him, with the way his voice pronounced your name, the warmth of his honey like skin… everything about him seemed to be divine to your eyes.

it was all wrong, but it was bearable. until it wasn’t.

until his desires started to grow bigger in his chest and his expensive pants. you’d become more confident around him and started wearing skimpier clothes inside the house, leaving little to imagination.

you didn’t do this on purpose, you raised yourself around women, and this was what you were accustomed to. you didn’t know the reason why sylus had to excuse himself mid conversation was because of the half of your ass showing outside those stupidly small shorts, and you didn’t know he rushed to the bathroom to jerk off with both hands like a horny teenager.

⠀⠀　　“sy, you okay?” you asked after knocking on the bathroom door. great, that’s the last thing he needed.

⠀⠀　　“all good, princess, i just felt a little nauseous. it’s all good.” the last sentence was said as a whisper, trying to convince himself to stop massaging his foreskin as he spoke to you and dress up and act like a decent person.

⠀⠀　　“are you sure, can i help you with anything?” you insisted with a sweet voice. fuck, that voice drive him crazy. his hand sped up, faster, harder.

he went silent for half a minute and you started to worry, knocking on the door again, pressing an ear against the wood to hear squelching and huffs on the other side.

was he…? no, he couldn’t be doing that... right?

your thighs pressed together in an attempt to ignore your clit throbbing against your cotton panties. you were getting ahead of yourself.

on the other hand, sylus was losing it. it was too much for him to hold back. the way your nipples craved through your tank top, the way you sucked on the damn spoon and licked your lips after each sip, the way you were so goddamn concerned about his wellbeing.

you were about to knock again as a curious cat would before gasping at the sudden grasp on your wrist, pulling you inside the bathroom.

sylus’ pants were undone, zipper down and boxers misplaced, trying to hide and obvious problem.

he cornered you against the tiled wall, placing both hands next to your head as he reached down, his nose caressing yours as he spoke with an almost trembling voice, trying to hold himself back, just a little bit longer.

⠀⠀　　“of course you can help, my dear. you actually caused the problem in the first place.” he whispered against your lips while pressing his knee between your closed legs, feeling warmth leaving your body and earning a low chuckle.

⠀⠀　　“sylus, what are you—” you tried to pull away as an instinct. this was wrong. you knew what he wanted, you wanted it too. but it was wrong.

he didn’t allow you to finish that pointless question, losing every bit of self control when he saw the way you looked up at him with those big eyes he loved to stare at, attacking your cherry lips effusively.

you whined against his mouth, the hands you had placed on his chest to pull him away now pulling him closer, grinding yourself against his knee.

no more self control, even if it was wrong.

he grabbed both your hips to shortly walk you both towards the bathroom counter, refusing to break the wet and nasty kiss he so desperately wanted for so long.

⠀⠀　　“gonna be a good girl and take me, doll? gonna take everything I’ve been keeping for you and only you?” he asked you while he bended you over the flat surface, steeping behind you.

⠀⠀　　“mhfm, daddy, I’ll take it all, please, please.” you started to cry. god this was twisted and plain disgusting. he knew about your daddy issues, about the longing for a fatherly figure. he should’ve felt repulsed by the nickname, his dick should’ve just go soft instantly. but it was a shock to his body, an impulse that added to the need for you, to be inside you.

he just loved hearing the new name roll out your sinful mouth.

⠀⠀　　“that’s right, princess, daddy’s gonna fuck you stupid, hmm? want that? of course you do.” he stated while adverting down, seeing how your ass swayed from side to side against his erection, your face full of tears and your nipples sensitive against the cold marble.

your hands reached out, grabbing both your asscheeks to spread them apart and give him a view of the curve of your pussy against the cottony material of your shorts, tracing the wet line with a manicured finger.

⠀⠀　　“fucking god, doll, when did you become so nasty, uh?” he was in awe, slapping the fat of your butt before tearing those damned shorts apart along with your annoying panties, tracing your bare pussy with a thumb.

you tried reaching for his erection, your cries making it impossible to answer anything. from his point of view you seemed pathetic, if he yearned you as a madman, you yearned him as a pathetic bitch in heat. sylus couldn’t believe the sweet and reserved girl he fell in love with was acting like this right before his eyes.

⠀⠀　　“shh, angel, I’ll give it to you, quit crying.” he lied, he didn’t want you to stop crying, actually. he pulled out his aching cock, pumping it a few times before pushing himself inside you way too wet cunt.

you just couldn’t hold back your moans, the squelching sound of both your arousals and the tapping of his balls against your wet skin making you feel dizzy.

blood showed up not a lot long after, an evidence of the loss of your innocence. he didn’t even think of that, didn’t even consider the possibility of you being completely untouched.

⠀⠀　　“fuck, princess, I’m corrupting you entirely, am I? daddy’s claiming you as a woman.” he said between thrust, loving how your ass jiggled against his pelvis. you could only nod and moan as a response. the connection you two were having too carnal, too raw.

it didn’t take long for him to cum white stripes inside your bloody cunt, followed up by you creaming his cock entirely, holding himself to the counter as he kept on thrusting, slower each time until he stopped.

you were fucked out, your brain mush as you tried to understand your environment and the situation, feeling both your releases drip to the tile flooring.

⠀⠀　　“daddy? sylus?” you cried out, trying to turn around to reach for your stepdad as you started to cry once more, scared of being left behind again. “please daddy, don’t leave me again, please, I’ll be good I promise.” you kept on rumbling.

⠀⠀　　“it’s okay, babydoll, I’m here. I’m here.” he reassured you, pulling out as his arms wrapped your body and brought you against his chest to hug you, his hands caressing your hair as he kissed your forehead, carrying you bridal style towards your bedroom after a little while.

he would change your clothes into new and fresh ones, clean up the mess he made while he pampered kisses all over your face, tuck you both in your bed while he caressed your long hair, staring at your angel like face while clarity hit him.

he didn’t care about the consequences he had to face in the morning. the pandora box was already open, he had a taste of you and he couldn’t let you go, not now.

sylus thought of all the ways he could escape, run away with you. he would leave your mom behind if it meant another night next to you, sleeping in his chest as you were doing now.

you were his little girl, you trusted him.

and he was going to take care of you as good daddies do.

a/n: I love daddy sylus guys u don’t understand (◞‸◟；)

— masterlist.

[bloopy-writes]

Weasley family headcanons cuz why not

Percy was the first person to find out Fred and George were serious about opening a joke shop because he saw them struggling to understand legal documents the common room. He never told their parents but he did sit with them and explain what they would need and they always took his advice even when they stopped talking to him

Charlie’s favorite little sibling is Ron and Ron sends the most letters to Charlie

Mr Weasley used to reserve special days once a month to take Ginny out and do whatever she wanted for a day

Fred and George only play the most pranks on Percy because they know he doesn’t actually hate it. And late at night he comes by and gives them tips or fixes spells for them. He’s their favorite brother but no one can tell.

Ron and Ginny tried baking once to surprise Mrs Weasley but almost made the oven explode

Ginny accidentally turned bill bald when she was a toddler and he told her to go to bed. He still holds a grudge over that.

Bill and Charlie and Percy meet up once a month as adults to keep each other updated about life.

Mr and Mrs Weasley are both amazing at dancing and unfortunately all their kids suck at it

One time in his first year Fred broke his ankle racing George to the dining hall. Percy gave him a piggyback ride to the hospital wing. Years later Fred returned the favor when Percy collapsed from exhaustion studying for his newts.

Ron can tell the twins apart he just pretends not to so that he can annoy them

Mrs Weasley and bill are the best chefs of the family but George is the best baker.

[jupiter-dragonsong]

Thinking obsessively about what it’s gonna be like if/when Harrow gets back.

Imagine you’ve been trapped in the form of your dead pet for almost ten years. You come back home— except your house is burned down, hundreds of years of your family’s history are ashes now and you weren’t there. Everything that belonged to your wife is gone.

You come back (to the place built over your) home and to your son, who was ten years old when you last saw him and is now an adult leading a government. He’s so serious now. You remember him stealing sweets from the kitchen and now he’s lead battles. You’ve missed all of his teenage years.

Also, he’s best friends- blood brothers, really- with a dragon. A dragon who’s the spitting image of your wife’s murderer, whose father was the closest thing you had to a mortal enemy. And here they are, chatting and eating jelly tarts and ruling alongside each other and acting for all the world like siblings. Nobody sees anything strange about this.

Last time you saw your stepson he was an awkward teenager with low self-esteem and a schoolboy crush on his friend. Now he has been through hell and back, achieved feats never thought possible to humans, and committed unspeakable acts for those he loves. He’s also married to one of the assassins sent to kill you. Your entire life you’ve been taught that elves were monsters and now you have one as a daughter-in-law. But she’s also a really nice girl? You’re actually really glad he found someone like her. You weren’t there to give him advice. You weren’t there to see them married. (It would be interesting if Harrow finds out he’s going to be a grandparent… @tategaminu) You also have to see the leader of elven assassins at family functions now. Which is awkward but he seems to really care about your sons now?

Your sister-in-law is also married to an elf. A elf queen, actually. One she’d been fighting against for years before… everything. She really, really hated elves back in the day. Now she’s married to one. Whiplash.

Your best friend is dead. He went directly against your orders and that is why you are here. He tried to have your sons killed. He took over your kingdom. He awoke ancient evils. The man you knew was gone long before he died but you can’t stop yourself from mourning. His sweet, quirky daughter has gone down paths darker than you thought were possible. His son, among the most loyal of your guards, has grown out of being a bully and is now a devoted friend to your children.

Everything has changed. The world you knew, the family you knew, is completely unrecognizable. And yet… the cycle of hate is broken, just like you always wished it would be. Even if it’s going to be hard for you, this is what you wanted for your kids. A world with open borders, ruled by a narrative of love.

Also the world is ending really soon! You are finally there for your family again and they are living with the threat of death looming over their heads. You have returned to your kingdom and it may soon be destroyed. This is not what you wanted for them.

Someone write something please.

[wisegirl25]

Arcane High School AU Headcannons

Jinx

-Shows up to class once a week (forced to by Silco)

-Somehow has the best grades in almost every class (100 in science, 99 in tech, etc.)

-All the teachers hate her because she constantly breaks the dress code and makes fun of teachers when they try to discipline her

-Just doesn’t show up for detention

-She and Ekko graffitied the back wall of the school and everyone knows it was them but nobody can prove it

-Ignores Vi whenever she tries to talk to her

-Has BEEF with Caitlyn and pulls pranks on her through her locker

-Says she hates kids but she’s always babysitting Isha

-She and Ekko constantly bicker in the hallways so people thought they hated each other until someone caught them making out under a stairwell

-Gives people piercings in the bathroom (it is NOT sanitary at all

-Blasts punk rock and metal music through her headphones so loud she can’t hear anyone

-Is on the Robotics Team, does drama (but she only helps make the sets), and refuses to join anything else

-Nobody knows that she and Viktor are secretly super close-they argue like siblings

-Sells drugs behind the school but doesn’t really take them herself

Vi

-Has dated half the female population of the high school

-Has okay grades (b’s and c’s) but has the best grades in phys ed

-Will scream at you in PE if you don’t pass her the ball

-Annoys Caitlyn all class

-Plays cod mobile or brawl stars instead of doing her work

-Gives Jayce HORRIBLE dating advice (he thinks that because she has a gf she would have good ideas)

-Gets into fights like every other day

-Will punch you if you say anything bad about Jinx

-Threatened to beat up Ekko when he and Jinx started dating (he knew she would never)

-On every sports team ever

-Somehow is the only girl on the male football team

-Failing the one class she has with Jayce

Ekko

-Soundcloud rapper//Jinx helps him produce his music

-Skateboards to school

-Always fighting with Jinx to have the highest grades

-Gets pissed that she doesn’t even put in the work and still excels

-Also on Robotics, plays basketball but nobody has the heart to tell him he’s too short

-Volunteers at a food bank and a homeless shelter every week

-Gaslit Scar into thinking he hated Jinx for the entirety of their freshmen year

-When Scar found out they were childhood besties he was like what

-Ditched prom with Jinx and got happy meals at mcdonalds

-Art club

-Draws Jinx in his sketchbook but won’t let her see it

-Ditches school with Claggor sometimes

-Pretends to hate Caitlyn because Jinx does (bf duties) but lowkey ends up having fun with it

-“Adopts” the weird kids from all the younger grades and forms a little Ekko fanclub indirectly

Caitlyn

-Her mom is on the school board

-Was homeschooled by tutors most of her life until she convinced her parents to let her go to public school

-Straight A’s

-Student Council Vice-President (going to be President after Mel graduates)

-Does track and archery club

-Hated Vi when they first met but warmed up to her

-Tried to get along with Jinx for Vi’s sake until Jinx blew up her locker with a huge project in it and now she has beef with her

-Tries and fails to break up fights

-Breaks the rules but gets away with it because she’s sneaky about it (I hate when ppl make her a goody-two shoes like she wasn’t constantly undermining authority in the show)

-Doesn’t understand why Ekko hates her

-She introduced Jayce (her childhood friend) to Vi and has regretted the decision ever since

-Gossips with Mel in the bathroom

Jayce

-Co-president of robotics team

-Has all a’s in every class except the one class he has with Vi which he is failing

-Will ditch class to go annoy Caitlyn

-The teacher either love him or hate him no in between

-Tried to get onto Student Council to impress Mel

-Plays sports

-He will constantly argue either Ekko, Viktor, and Jinx during robotics

-Bi king can’t decide if he’s madly in love with Viktor or with Mel (ends up with Viktor tho)

-Somehow super popular even though he was a loser in middle school

Viktor

-Has been hopelessly crushing on Jayce since middle school

-Hits people with his cane

-Mostly quiet unless something he’s passionate about comes up

-He and Caitlyn get along really well and ditch Jayce and Vi whenever they start to act stupid to go gossip with Mel

-Secretly has a Youtube account with 100k subscribers but all he does on it are video essays and random rants

-Gets asked “are you gay?” every other week

-He is but he won’t admit it

-Robotics Co-President, Debate team, student council

-People don’t make fun of him because he will literally find ur address and somehow get the police at your door

-The Robotics club becomes his cult and the younger kids worship him

Mel

-Super popular

-Good grades

-Student council president

-Everyone is lowkey scared of her

-Sprays her vanilla coconut body mist everywhere

-Everyone knows her because her mom is some super famous politician

-President of the Debate Team

-Model UN

-Gossips in the bathroom

-Manipulates the teachers into getting her the grades she wants when she doesn’t wanna do the work

-Only dated Jayce for the popularity points and to piss off her mom

-Is lowkey queer but doesn’t know how to label herself so she just ignores it

-She’s really sweet if you actually get to know her and is the friend that buys everyone super expensive gifts

-Buys kids toys to give people she doesn’t like as gag gifts

Sorry it’s so long but I have more…

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Calming the Emperor God

Geta x wife! reader

warning : hurt/comfort, kissing, cuddling, mention of murder and sickness

Summary : Rome seemed to turn on their rulers, what Caracalla compensated with more Colosseum fighting Geta had to face reality as much as he thought he was divine, he alone couldn't control everything. The demand of his head was only the beginning as the emperor sought advice and care in the arms of his wife.

info : A work for Geta I just wanted to give him a long hug, enjoy reading ;)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marriage, when you were a ruler of a empire, it was important to have a wife after your appointment, someone you loved or not, someone who could give you an heir.

He had even less regard for his father than his brother, a man driven by empathy and kindness as well as hope, a weak man whose only great deed was to father him and Caracalla with his mother, nothing else. That was the only reason for his damned father's last acts, a marriage.

A marriage three years ago, on his twentieth name day, he took her as his wife, a young lady of his own age from a noble house of the united kingdoms under Rome.

He hadn't thought much of her then, but when he looked at the sitautioon now, she was more than just his love, she was his shield, the judgement of the people and a light that all kinds of people looked up to so that the people wouldn't rise up in revolt.

She was a pillar at his side who could lead Rome, advise Caracalla and be there for him at the same time…the only thing that had not been created in all this time was an heir.

An inheritance that in theory the two emperors had in each other, but with each passing day Geta saw how bad things were for Caracalla, ,,The Holy Roman Empire will belong to the world, but three deaths would mean its end" he had said shortly after their wedding, at first still indifferent to her, even disgusted by her failure to conceive and paranoid that she would betray him.

But none of this mattered when he saw how gentle she was with his brother, how good she was at managing the senate and how understanding she was towards him every day.

,,My doubts were never about you, my husband, a marriage of the dead is beyond our influence and your circumstance worries me more than my own" she had admitted when she realised how bad things were for the emperors.

Who ruled a world empire, how easy she had had it, several siblings, no illnesses, her parents a long life and security, everything Geta and his brother didn't have.

Both had hardly received any training in warfare, politically she hardly knew what to do and they had no connection to the people.

From the moment they were born, they had already come too close to the sun and would never raise their wings again. She was a woman, a princess, aware of her role as a mother, but if she couldn't even be that, she would do anything to support her husband.

Taking her eyes from the marble floor that lay cold beneath her sandals, she looked back at her husband Geta presenting new proposals for the military, improvements and enhancements to a Senate that seemed barely interested.

They were strategies and proposals for which Geta had spent hours and nights in the library with her, he was trying so hard for his people, or at least for the world for now, the dream of a Rome that covered the world, it wasn't fair that the senate consisted only of fake snakes, but you couldn't kill them either.

No one is interested but us she thought and sat down again on Geta's throne when she heard a giggle next to her.

Caracalla was once again more than just bored by all this and began to play with his fingers, seeing that Geta gave her a quick glance and an unsaid ‘thank you darling’ seemed to come from his eyes, she rose to take care of Caracalla.

As much as the presence of both emperors was required, Caracalla was disturbed by the introduction of the laws the blond was probably about to rise herself, she put her hand on his shoulder, ,,We should leave Geta alone, how about a game?" she asked in a whisper and saw the grin widen. Already sending Caracalla forward.

She bowed to Geta who had paused in his speech, allowing everyone a brief moment to think, ,,I'm already longing for your liberating kiss of my sorrows" he murmured to her before placing a kiss on her cheek, a face with a ‘divine’ countenance looking back at her before she withdrew from the senate.

Once again, her god had to try to cope on his own, an event that occurred weekly and took its toll on him, for what was an emperor without preparation since childhood?

He was nothing.

Footsteps followed Caracalla, who was already pulling out his favourite figurines from a wicker basket, ,,The conquest of Rome with the crucifixions of the Christians!" he announced and she clapped as he told her everything in meticulous detail.

Not a game in the sense, but something amusing for him, especially when he could stab the little figures and she had to make the death noises that he always found extremely sweet, ,,Your memories are unfathomable and fascinating," she said and tapped him on the forehead.

He could hardly remember what was served for dinner yesterday, but he seemed to know such a battle going back hundreds of years completely by heart, it was the madness you couldn't control.

But that didn't matter because, apart from the battle, they played together with Dundus and in the afternoon she had to sing Caracalla a lullaby because otherwise he wouldn't go to bed, otherwise he would only cause more ‘problems’ like a small child.

One thing that hardly bothered her anymore she knew it would give Geta less to worry about and she had a few more hours of peace and quiet in which to organise her own things, ,,Sleep well little king" she whispered as she closed the door to his room and with a sigh made her way back to her own room.

Knowing that the meeting in the senate would take a long time she returned to her art of the gods, knowing that only they could help her and her family Appolo I pray to you for healing and beauty over my brother-in-law Caracalla and husband Geta she heard her own praying voice in front of her altar to Appolon the model for Geta.

In all the golden clothes he wore, even the make-up was dedicated to the god, but the gods seemed to have abandoned the brothers since the birth and not given her a blessing.

She spent the next few hours embroidering, writing and reading books, hoping to get advice from former emperors on how to cultivate fields to increase yields, which were getting lower and lower.

This was bad for the population of Rome, the army and the imperial family itself, who had to cope with all this without falling into the madness that Caracalla was making worse and worse.

The goblet of water next to her was refilled every now and then and the lamps and torches in her room were turned on by the servants when the sun had long since reached the horizon, she knew that the discussion in the Senate had to come to an end.

She was about to roll back the parchment and place it on the table when someone knocked on her door.

,,Yes?” she said, but instead of her beloved she only found a servant who bowed and replied, ,,Emperor Geta wishes to see you, he insists that you dine with him. His brother Emperor Caracalla has already been taken care of” the message read.

She sent the servant away with a wave of her hand and rose herself more hastily than she had intended and immediately headed for his chamber, which was only a corridor away.

So Caracalla is sleeping well it flashed through her mind casually as she realized that he had probably taken care of him as well. Geta was once again doing a lot more than he was supposed to, another reason why she loved him so much.

Stopping in front of the large double wooden door, the guards bowed before they opened the door for her and she was finally back with him, ,,Geta dearest I see you again,” she said happily and automatically went to the table where she had expected him to be for dinner but he wasn't there.

Turning around as she heard a sniffle she saw a golden curly head standing on the balcony, he was overlooking the city but ewa san his posture made her falter ,,Geta? Is everything alright?” she asked as she stepped out into the cool night and stood behind him, her fingers carefully resting against his back.

He was tense, trembling slightly but whether it was from the cold or the excitement she couldn't tell, ,,No one...none of these philistines listened, it led to nothing,” he finally said slowly as he turned to face her, the moon shining above him, the cold god watching over God's representation on earth.

The make-up on his face smudged, the golden light clothes wrinkled and not smooth and his blond hair completely disheveled. He did not have the madness of his brother, but as the sole ruler of an empire, such a burden lay heavily on him alone. ,,My husband, you know I couldn't be prouder, don't you?” she asked the superfluous question but knew he needed it.

The next moment he turned to her with a sigh and grasped her hands, she could see the watery eyes even in the faint moonlight, ,,The feelings are the same...but an emperor without his senate only with enemies and no support as it seems...is neither god nor man he is nothing” he finally spoke the truth and embraced her a little more strongly, slightly painfully and yet seeking help.

She understood him, understood him from the bottom of her heart, a pain, a helplessness she knew only too well.

Putting her hand on his cheek and looking at him for a moment, he entangled her in a kiss, she felt his hand at her side running over her hip, ,,Love you” she heard the murmured words as they broke away, as this wonderful fallen god looked at her so full of grace and love.

Her heart was bound with his as the brass rings made a soft muffled sound as their hands met again, the small smile on the god's lips as he looked at his love.

,,You are the most important thing to me and to Caracalla and I as your beloved swear to you that this will not be the end,” she assured him and saw the love that showed in the darkly painted eyes.

She saw him look away at Rome, the city behind him, his home and the empire that belonged to him, saw the nod, heard the intake of breath as he pulled her into another kiss. he may be destitute but he would never lose his family, his love, Geta knew that.

,,We'll show them together," he promised and led her next to him, leaving his hand linked with hers and seeming to promise her not only Rome, but the whole world, because together the imperial family of Rome would be able to do anything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@potatoesenpaii , @thatnerdliv , @scorpiongirlsthings , @pxnx-kk

@the-a-word-2214 , @peakygirl1919 , @k-yurieee

[eclips-moon]

Batboy's dating younger Reader headcanon

Hey y'all ! So this is my first time writing, please feel free to give your thoughts on the headcanon and if you want I would really appreciate some tips and advice :)

Tim Drake (Robin/Red Robin)

Protective AF: Tim would be a bit obsessed with keeping you safe, like... he already has a big brother vibe, so dating someone younger turns that into overdrive. He’s always checking on you, making sure you’ve eaten, got home safe, etc. Dude’s basically your life manager.

Super Respectful: He would NEVER cross any boundaries, especially knowing that you’re younger. He’s all about giving you space to grow at your own pace, while quietly supporting you from the sidelines.

Overachiever mode: Expect random gifts like "I did your homework for you" or "I hacked into the school system, and you’re now top of the class." He’d be lowkey smug about it but also super sweet, blushing when you thank him.

Jason Todd (Red Hood)

The Rebel with a soft spot: Jason? He’ll tease you about being younger, throwing around nicknames like "kid" or "baby" just to rile you up, but deep down, he’s got this protective instinct that runs DEEP. Anyone messes with you? They're about to meet Red Hood.

Conflicted feelings: Jason’s probably the most worried about the age gap. He’s already got a lot of self-doubt, so he’s constantly overthinking whether he's bad for you or if you deserve better. You’d have to reassure him that you’re all in, age difference and all.

Gentle Giant moments: Under all that sarcasm and tough exterior, Jason’s a softie. When you’re alone, he’s way more affectionate than you’d expect—always making sure you’re okay, wrapping you up in his leather jacket when you’re cold, stuff like that. He has this big-brother energy but romantic vibes creep in, making it all the more intense.

Dick Grayson (Nightwing)

Mr. Charming: You think the age difference bothers him? Nah. Dick’s the smooth talker of the Batfam, and he’ll joke about being your "wise older boyfriend," but he takes the relationship seriously.

Casual PDA King: He’s super affectionate. Always sneaking in little kisses on your forehead, holding your hand, or pulling you into his lap when you’re both chilling. He’d lowkey treat you like you’re the most precious person in his world.

Big Brother Mode Activated: Being the oldest of the Batboys, he’s super used to looking after younger siblings. This means he’ll also be extra watchful of you, even when you don’t realize it. He won’t overstep, but his protective side would slip through when he thinks you’re not noticing.

Damian Wayne (Robin)

Denial City: Damian hates admitting he cares for you at first because you’re younger. He’s probably the most resistant to the idea of romance. He’d tell himself (and you) that you’re too immature or inexperienced for a relationship... but his actions say otherwise.

Tsundere Vibes: He’ll brush off anything romantic at first. Compliments? "Tt, don’t be ridiculous." But then he’ll turn around and make sure no one else gets too close to you. If anyone flirts with you, they're getting the classic Damian death glare.

Secret Softie: Eventually, he’d accept his feelings, and when he does, he’s surprisingly thoughtful. Damian may not say "I love you" often, but he shows it through his actions—whether it's training with you, sharing his books, or letting you sit in on his quiet moments with his pets.

[waokevale]

Introducing Follower gang!

There. Finally did all the Bishops follower designs!

The 7 deadly sins

And some other follower gang, done with lineart this time because the other 2 pieces made me lose my soul for how long they took.

(Also a small HC if I may: Dr. Sozonius is trapped inside the mushroom on Sozos head, while the actual mushroom is controlling his body)

+ some more doodles

Info about the 7 Sins and more doodles below:

Jeg represents Greed - he was one of the first of Lamb's followers. (At first, it was very difficult for Lambert to indoctrinate people, due to their inexperience, this guy was like the 5th or so) Jeg has...a very specific personality to say the least, yet the Lamb can't help but be fond of him. They eventually nominate him the Tax enforcer role and...That might've been the worst decision of their life. But they did not take the role away. Jeg acts smug 24/7 and relishes in his new power, but deep down, dudes pretty insecure, ( but don't tell anyone!) He used to have a huge crush on the lamb, but then Narinder and eventually the other bishops came, and since their leader was for some reason head over heels for the ex god of death, Jeg grew bitter and often got into fights with Nari, as well as charging him and his other siblings more than the average follower. Though he's mostly mellowed out since then.

Brash represents Gluttony They despise Helob, since they used to fight for "food" a lot, and eventually Brash got really injured and was found by the Lamb. She tried to eat them, but was quickly disarmed. Despite this, they decided to spare him and bring his sorry ass back to the cult to indoctrinate. They were very cunning and didn't trust the lamb either, but eventually they cooled off and accepted the new life. She still eats people tho, just not from the cult, otherwise jail or *worse*

Yara represents Pride She is one of the core followers. She's very strict and somewhat self-centered, she likes things done her way, or if not her way, the lambs way. Period. No one else can boss her around or even give a helpful advice. She's actually a pretty stand up deer, and despite being incredibly stubborn still makes a good friend. She gets along with most people though Brash annoys her, since he keeps snatching body parts off corpses. She has always been extremely devoted to the lamb and will be annoyed if any follower dissents and tries to preach against them. She wasn't surprised in the slightest when they eventually took down all the bishops.

Thorn represents Envy He had a pretty terrible life before the cult. When he was brought in, she was bitter about her newfound situation. He wasn't very trusting of the lamb and thought they expected something out of her (which technically they did, but it's just work). He envies the fools who are so oblivious and just do everything as they're told and let their lives be guided by some amateur god. Similar to the other two, he puts on a mask, He often acts overly saccharine to hide his true feelings, but doesn't have any bad intentions. (Most of the time) She does genuinely like some people, but others, he only pretends to like to appease the lamb or to blackmail them. He hates when the people he actually cares about are threatened.

Jermo represents Wrath Jermo absolutely does not trust anyone. Similar to Thorn, and most other followers tbh, their life was absolutely horrible prior to the cult. They trusted some people, they got betrayed, and almost died several times because of it. It was extremely difficult for the lamb to make them stop dissenting. They legit had to give them the loyalty necklace in order for them to finally stop dissenting. Jermo keeps getting into fights with other followers, because they feel as though everyone is always against them or is constantly judging them. (They're technically not wrong) They've died 5 times, because they keep getting into fights with other followers. Lamb strongly considered keeping them dead, but decided to challenge themself with them (also they're too cuddly to just be killed off) Despite their many, *many* flaws, Thorn has a huge crush on them, since he's one of the people who managed to see their soft side. Jermo, deep, deep, deep down actually cares a lot, but they've been hurt too much by everyone, so they retaliate for the same stuff to not repeat.

Herett represents Lust At some point, she passingly heard about the cult and since it seemed like a peaceful place from the rumors (and also had hot people in it) she eagerly joined in. She's usually in the kitchen area, if not hanging around the love tent or babysitting some kids. She crushes on almost everyone, but for some reason she hates Kallamar (legit in my actual game she rejected him so hard, despite having the lustful trait and not caring prior)

Mateo represents Sloth Is perhaps the 1st or 2nd of Lambs followers, so they're absolutely not letting go of him, dudes lived 4 long lives and is tired of it, he keeps switching jobs since with age he's been slacking off more. He's currently stuck as a janitor (he hates it) He's also one of the few people who managed to befriend Jermo, his mellow, don't care attitude is somewhat comforting to them. Aside that, he gets along with almost everyone, as best as he can at least.

Not much else to say about the gang in the third pic but Riley and Dannie are platonic bffs and were forced to babysit kids when the lamb was crusading. The lamb was a little incompetent here to give carnivores children to take care of, but thankfully they actually managed to be good with them and got used to being on nanny duty.

The capybara (Beige) is a retired teacher and adopted a little owlet to take care of (Chip)

While Femur is our below yellow cat, and that's my HC name for him. He's a gatherer here.

[yeahimatransman]

Signs from being younger that probably are signs of being trans:

Making a sock penis and wearing it in my room. Never admitting it, but wanting a penis.

Fantasizing that I was turned into a boy and choosing to stay that way.

Taking quizzes that claim to "guess your gender" and wanting to have the results say I was a boy.

This one makes me laugh, but pretending to be a boy when I would play on Club Penguin.

Really liking how I looked in our jazz band uniform which includes a men's dress shirt, dress pants, a tie, and a vest.

Signs in adulthood and right now that probably are signs of me being trans:

Buying a packer and really enjoying wearing it in public.

Loving the bulge my packer gives me and wanting to look at it all day long/wear it everyday.

Wanting a real penis.

I want a beard so bad.

Buying a binder and being frustrated that it didn't make me completely flat because I have a large chest. Kind of liking how it looked anyway when I was able to get over that and see that it did make my chest smaller.

Still fantasizing of being turned into a man and choosing to stay that way.

Going by he/him pronouns on here.

Changing my pronouns on Facebook to see it say "changed HIS profile picture" and seeing that I was listed as "brother" and "son" on my siblings and parents pages. (Changed it back out of fear of getting caught).

Changing my gender on Facebook to Male even though it's hidden.

Picturing myself in the future presenting as male with short hair, a beard, and having gotten top surgery.

I want to be a man.

AND YET I am still struggling with believing I am actually trans or that I should move forward with transitioning. There is so much that goes into this. Internalized transphobia. Inability to let go of my religion even if I don't necessarily believe because it's what I have known my whole life and all my friends are there. Religious trauma and being told that my being a woman is eternal and divine. Fear of disappointing my family and friends or confusing them/ruining our relationships. Messing with the status quo at almost 28 years old. Not being taken seriously. I probably should see a gender therapist.

I just really needed to get that all out. If anyone has any advice or ideas or maybe even just validation, I would really appreciate it.

[crescenthistory]

2K IS SO WELL DESERVED 💓💓

Please could you analyse a relationship (maybe how it starts/people finding out) between barty and potter!reader or black sister!reader 💓

thank you kindly sweetheart<33 i did poly!bartylus x potter!reader here, so i'm choosing the noble house of black scenario here lols. i loved this one so much, especially dynamic 2, so someone feel free to request a full version once i open my regular requests 🙂↕️🙂↕️

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will ANALYSE barty crouch jr. with black!sister!reader

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

cw: reference to walburga and orion's excellent parenting (abuse), fem!reader, sibling troubles, precocious barty

regulus was barty's first best friend and he is fiercely loyal to him, to a fault

however, he is loyal within barty's own moral compass, which, as we know, is a quite unique one

meaning he is "if i see you jumping someone, i'm jumping them with you, no questions asked" loyal and "if you are upset, it is my sworn duty to make you feel different" but he is NOT "your sister is off limits loyal"

which they both find out randomly one day, more or less like this:

"salazar's soggy balls, your sister is proper fit"

"EXCUSE ME?"

queue regulus whacking barty like he's a dog getting reprimanded while barty shrieks and yells some incoherent excuse like "what? she is???"

how it goes from there depends on which dynamic you have with the black brothers

i see two primary ones:

you were either really close with regulus and thus have a more problematic but still close relationship with sirius

OR you really looked up to sirius, which made regulus distance himself for you for periods of time

(the latter one prompts much more angst in the getting together process, naturally – in a good way)

DYNAMIC 1 (regulus centred)

if you and regulus are really close, you would be brought into the slytherin skittles from the get go and thus would have a friends to lovers arc with barty

after regulus whacked barty for drooling over "my baby sister" (you're like. eleven months younger than him.), he keeps an eye on barty

i think barty frankly would not care at all and would continue flirting with you unabashedly

"when have i ever let reg dictate my love/dating/sex life before?"

though he would be saving the more salacious comments for when regulus isn't around

and trust that he would be pursuing spending time with you when regulus isn't around – once he got hung up on you it's almost like a compulsive tic, he just has to be close to you

you would probably be the only one having any moral qualms about it, wondering how regulus would feel and how things might change

as a black sister, you would likely feel like everything good in your life is a hair width's away from falling apart and live in constant fear of that while trying to remain nonchalant

yet barty's pull towards you is far from one-sided – he gives you that calmness in the chaos and chaos in calmness that you craved

only when you nearly have your first kiss in a hallway and you pull away last second talking "what about regulus?" do i think it might register with barty that he could genuinely be upsetting his best friend

prompt the always direct barty more or less marching into his dorm he shares with regulus and evan, declaring: "regulus arcturus black, i love your sister. you have no right giving out blessings, but would you please get behind this, it's upsetting her."

it would be a ROUGH conversation, but regulus knows both of you well enough to know when you're being serious about something

and barty was being deadly serious

after they've talked it through and regulus has said something along the lines of "as long as you promise it's not just a shag, then sure, be my guest. but i want to hear NONE of it", i think he would make a beeline to gryffindor

to find sirius, of course, for once daring seek out his older brother's advice, because it's for their "better third"

"sirius, i need you to calm yourself and not be mad at them because i genuinely need your advice"

it took a LOT of schooling his face for sirius to not rip his eyeballs out at the mention that barty is interested in you, but he kept calm, for regulus

he could tell that he needed it

they talked it all out

it genuinely made regulus feel better and more secure in it, but the second he left the room, sirius turned around crying to james in the exact same way

queue sirius pulling barty aside the next day to borderline threaten him to not mistreat you

and for YOU to then pull SIRIUS aside and have an angsty sibling confrontation of "is it more important to you to go to him first and be all protective, instead of to me and offer any support or congratulations?"

i think regardless of if you have a troubled relationship for a while, he still sees you as his whole world; something to take care of

so he would nod his head, properly reprimanded and give you the first hug you've shared in a while

barty is by FAR sirius' least favourite in-law and barty adoreeeees that fact, loving to rub it in

you'll have to gently be like "babe, please" to have him calm down and not agitate sirius (and by consequence regulsu) too much

it was chaotic but just right

DYNAMIC 2 (sirius centred)

you grew up always looking up to sirius – he's three years older, so the perfect age for you to think everything he does is so cool

you were still relatively young when everything went down with sirius and walburga, so you had a slightly more coloured image and fuzzy memories surrounding the abuse at home

less resentment, more uncertainty towards your parents while still idolising sirius, at least for a while

i think sirius in any dynamic considers his sister his "baby" to some degree, partly because you were the youngest, partly because of his upbringing presenting women as someone to be taken care of – and largely because you let him baby you, unlike regulus

you saw sirius as more of an authority figure than you ever did regulus and he always felt safer than your parents, so when you had nightmares as a child, sirius was the one who could soothe you the best

when you were anxious, he was the one who could talk you out of it, tether you to the earth

sirius saw you as more innocent and less tainted than him, so you could in return make him feel a bit better, a bit more like he had a purpose

i think this dynamic would make regulus very resentful of the both of you

yet another example of him being the second option, of him not measuring up, etc. -> in regards to both you and sirius

in regulus' mind, you were the better younger sibling and sirius was the better older sibling – regulus was alone

so he isolated himself more and more from the both of you as he grew up in a misguided act of self-protection

to the extent that when you started hogwarts, you were never introduced to his friends

i think they asked about you when you finally started hogwarts, but he brushed it aside so assertively that they dropped it

this is in stark contrast to sirius' marauders who happily brought you along more often than not

you were not really a part of their friend group, more so that you became everyone's honorary little sister while you established yourself your own good friends within your house and year

sirius would meet you at every breakfast, even if only to ruffle your hair and kiss your head while you groaned, embarrassing you in front of your friends

you knew of who regulus' friends were and you saw him around often, but it had been made clear to you not to engage

i think it would be the kind of situation where regulus implied you stay away, which hurt you and made you stay away, which in turn hurt him – the cycle goes on

so you never really got to know them beyond their reputations and sirius' complaints about them

until around your fifth year when you would meet barty in some capacity (same class because you were excelling above your year, same secluded area of hogsmeade, etc.)

you hit it off massively, bantering back and forth in a way that makes barty feel both challenged and seen

his interest is piqued

after which is when he makes the comment to regulus about how he finds you "proper fit"

this time, regulus loses his mind over it not because it's his baby sister, but because of his resentment, jealousy and even fear that you would be taking someone else away from him

he would not be making sense to barty, reverting back to his younger and more hurt self before stalking off

if barty, evan or even dorcas tried to bring it up to regulus afterwards, he would just say "let's not talk about her/them" curtly

he only spoke to pandora about it and she kept quiet to the others, respecting his space and boundaries

in this instance, it would be clear to barty that his interest in you was not okay, but it didn't subside

on the contrary, it only continued blazing and he kept meeting you often, mostly by coincidence – but he stayed on purpose

you think nothing much of it before regulus angirly stalks up to you when he sees you chatting in the hallway, roughly grabs your arm to haul you away and whispers something along the lines of "you have sirius. you got sirius, you can't take barty too"

queue massive sibling fight that barty eventually has to get involved in, ignoring the sound of his breaking heart

while you often ignored each other, the tension that arose between you and regulus was now palpable and uncomfortable

you were hurt regulus viewed you the way he did and always competed with you – why did he care so much for sirius' love and not yours?

regulus was hurt because he felt abandoned yet again – both by barty, but also you because he loved you and missed you

having no idea what to do, i think barty would be forced to do the one thing he had sworn to himself, any god he occasionally spoke to and regulus he would never do:

he willingly went to speak with sirius black

"believe me, i don't want to do this any more than you do, but i don't think they can get over this on their own"

i think barty might be able to articulate how regulus feels like the "odd one out" of the siblings and show sirius that regulus' standoffishness is just years of pain schooled away and not him being an aloof bother

which sirius knows but has never been able to work past regardless, not before it was presented to him like this

and while sirius would still be disturbed by it, i think this might be the only way to make him understand that barty loves you – because there was no other word but love for the pull he felt towards you, the emptiness he felt without you

the two of them would plot and scheme to get you and regulus in the same room at the same time, locking all four of you inside

when they begin to try and start a civil conversation, you and regulus are on the offensive and hostile

it is when you burst out something along the lines of "why do you hate me?" that regulus' face falls

"i could never hate you."

it would be an even rougher talk, but you are able to understand each other's pain at last

"i never meant to take him away from you, i never meant to take anything away from you. i just want to be part of your life again."

"it's never felt like i deserve a spot in your life, though. like you want me there."

"regulus there is not a day that i don't wish you were sat beside me."

loooooooong awaited hug

barty and sirius would have stepped back as mediators once the first realisation set in between you, watching while leaning on a desk from afar, feeling oddly united for a moment

at last, regulus would murmur: "do you love him"

you looked at barty for a long time before looking back to regulus with a quivering lip, despite knowing the answer

"only if you'll let me. only if you'll be okay with it."

and though a part of him might still be scared and kicking and screaming, he would use all of his big brother love to pull you close, kiss you on the forehead and whisper repeatedly "it's alright, it's alright. i'm sorry, it's alright."

barty held it together well for regulus' sake, but the second he was left alone with you he swept you up in the closest embrace

"i'm so proud of you"

not only are you the most compelling, bewitching, well, witch he had ever met, but you seemed to be the one person capable of piecing his best friend back together

went through hell to be a match made in heaven

[plussizefantasia]

Don't Cry Over Spilled Lemonade

Anthony Bridgerton x f!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None that I can think of, this is kinda angsty tho

A/N: Surprise post IG I wrote this in my notes app because I couldn't sleep so if there are spelling or grammar issues I'm sorry. let me know if you want a part two because I wouldn't mind continuing this.

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings. You had become a close family friend ever since you defended Daphne against some creep at her first-ever ball out in society, it was your second season and you had taken it upon yourself to keep an eye on the diamond, looking out for her quietly in the background.

You weren’t going to intervene at all, just offer her some advice woman to woman if the need arose but when you saw Baron Taylor grab the redhead by the wrist you couldn’t hold back.

Anthony himself was only seconds away from coming to his sister's aid when you ‘accidently’ tripped into the man spilling your glass of lemonade down the front of his vest. 

“Perhaps my Lord if we kept our hands to ourselves certain… interventions might’ve not had to happen. Don’t you think?” When Anthony had seen your raised eyebrow and defensive posture all aimed at the scumbag who dared lay a hand on his baby sister he couldn’t help but fall a little bit in love right then and there. Not that he’d ever admit it to himself or anyone else for that matter.

A day later Daphne had invited you to tea at their family house in order to thank you for the rescue and potentially make a new friend and ally within the marriage mart.

Ever since that day, you’d been a regular in his home, but you were never there for him as much as he’d have liked you to be. No, you were always there for one of his siblings. You were there to talk with Daphne, first about her counting of the duke and then slowly transitioning into how she felt about being a married woman and then a mother. He could also find you sketching in silence next to Benedict, the two of you after attending to draw the same scene and then critiquing each other's work when you were done. You would trade books and ideas with Eloise, listen to Fran play the piano while working on your embroidery, and the scenes which would warm his heart the most, you’d come around to chase after Greg and Hyancith playing with them in the gardens and keeping a watchful eye to make sure they stayed safe. 

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings, and he loathed how much of a distance there seemed to be between the two of you. 

You were cold to the Viscount, you had been since the evening you came to Daphne’s rescue, he had attempted to give you his thanks and you had simply excused yourself, “My apologies my Lord but I seem to be down a glass of lemonade presently and I find myself to be quite parched, excuse me.” Your tone was cold and Anthony spent the rest of that night and the next two years trying to figure out what he possibly couldn’t done to make you so icy towards him.

“I do not understand it Ben, she is so kind and lovely to the rest of you but is like a stone wall when it comes to me, what could I be missing?”

“Perhaps she just doesn’t like you brother have you ever thought of that?” Benedict was too preoccupied with this still life to deal with his older brothers pining at the moment. 

“That is not possible, I’ve done nothing but be the perfect gentleman to her.” 

“Anthony I have no idea why dear Y/N does not like you but what exactly will you whining in my studio do about that?” 

“I resent that. I am not whining I am simply asking my dearest brother for his advice on a matter I care very much about. I thought that was what brothers were for.”

“You want my advice, Anthony? Think. Think long and hard about what you want and how you’ll get it because Y/N has no patience for wishy-washy men.”

“That is horrible advice, Ben.”

“When then perhaps you can find better advice from your other brothers. Which will it be Anthony, the one who has been blindly in love with his best friend for years, or the ten-year-old?” 

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know. Now leave, that storm cloud above your head is casting shadows on my fruit.” Ben pointed his paintbrush at the bowl of fruit balanced atop a stool. Anthony huffed and knowing that it would bother his brother, he grabbed the apple off the top of the pile and took a bite of it as he strode out of the room

Ben had told him to think, but Anthony didn’t know what to think about. He knew that he craved your attention. He knew that he enjoyed seeing you around his house, interacting with the people whom he loves. He enjoyed hearing your witty comebacks and the way that even if you were not doing anything in particular you still fill the space you’re in.

He wanted her in his life, and if he was being completely honest with himself he wanted more than that. 

It’s during his musing that he runs into her in the hallway, you have a book clutched within your hand, and your head is held high. You don’t stop your stride even though he knows that you saw him. He bites his lip and tampers down a smirk. Add another thing to that list of things he likes about you, you have fire, he just wished that it wasn’t always aimed at him.

“Lady, L/N which one of my dear siblings are you spending your day with today?” He attempts to match his pace with yours catching up to you so that the two of you walk shoulder and shoulder.

“Actually, Lord Bridgerton, I was having tea with your mother this afternoon she invited me over so we could discuss what to do about Frannie’s debut next season.”

This was not something that normal family friends do, you know that and he knows that. His sibling’s entrances into society are a matter which the viscountess must handle, something his mother has had to continue to do because of his lack of a wife. 

“That was very kind of you to help her with.”

“Well, she doesn’t have anyone else to help her.” Your words cut him down, not for the first time. 

“Lady L/N may I be frank?”

“It is your home, you may do as you please.” You turn to face him, your face a mask of indifference. 

“What have I done to cross you, for the longest time I have known you you have been cold to me and I do not understand why?” 

“I had figured that you did not remember, either that or you had purposely forgone trying to speak with me about it.”

“About what?” 

“Our first meeting My Lord.” 

“I remember our first meeting very clearly, it is one of my fondest memories seeing you stand up for Daphne and ruin Lord Taylor’s vest.” He tilts his head to the side and smiles at the memory.

“That was not the first time we met My Lord, the first time we met you snubbed me in front of the entire ton and sparked rumors that did not leave me until two seasons later.” She was harsh in her words and the tightness in her shoulder’s belayed her desire to flee.

Anthony was speechless, surely he had not? He would’ve remembered her, would’ve remembered turning down one of the most beautiful women he had ever met, intentionally or otherwise. 

“I- I beg your deepest forgiveness Y/N I do not remember and if I had I would’ve tried to make it up to you tenfold by now.”

Your eyes began to gloss over and you looked at the wall beside his head, “It was my first season out, Lady Danbury’s ball, and I had seen you standing there surrounded by other gentleman. I had thought you a very fine figure and despite the rumor mill telling me you were nothing but a rake I had tried to begin a conversation. All you did was turn to me and laugh. I wasn’t asked to dance for the entire rest of that season and it was only until my Mother forced the son of one of her garden party friends to dance with me was that streak broken. You were the first and only man I had ever attempted to pursue and you laughed in my face. Were it not for my deep need to help those I see in need I would never have talked to you or any member of the Bridgerton family for the rest of my life.”

“You must know that I regret that, I regret everything I have ever done to hurt you and I will spend the rest of my days working for your forgiveness.” If Anthony was a weaker man he would’ve fallen to his knees and begged for your forgiveness until his last breath, right there in the hallways of his family’s home.

“I appreciate your words Anthony, but that’s all they are… words. I am unmarried, one year from becoming a spinster in the eyes of the entire ton, and you, you are the only one I can blame.” You don’t wait for his reply, just stalking off and wiping the tears from your eyes.

Anthony resolved himself in that moment. He would do whatever it took to make it up to you, to bring a smile to your face, and to cast away the hurt he had caused.

Part 2

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Over the Limit-pt.vi

jenna ortega x female reader

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi

summary: Sibling fights, pool parties, and drunk college kids. What could go wrong?

word count: 11.4k

warnings: drinking, mentions of drug use, implications of sexual assault (does not happen)

a/n: My plans for this chapter changed a lot from any q&a’s I’ve answered….Thank you for being patient! Hope you enjoy😌 If anyone is in LA or has loved ones there I hope you’re all safe 💜

————

“So what’s his name?”

Hunter turns to you with a raised brow, “Are we really doing this?”

After Aliyah’s suggestion—that was more an order to go to UCLA, you found yourself driving to the acclaimed university. You check the rear view mirror and confirm that the two sisters are knocked out (as it’s now 9pm) before you answer Hunter.

“Well yeah? You know about my Viper situation brewing back there,” you roll your eyes with a laugh quoting his exact words from earlier. “Come onnn!” you whine.

“Oh so you do admit there’s a situation,” Hunter fires back, clearly trying to regain the upper hand. But you hold your ground, unfazed by his teasing—a skill you’ve definitely honed over the course of this road trip. He groans but you can see the blush creeping on his face at the mention of his forbidden lover. “Fine his name is Fielder.”

“Hmm weird name. So you guys dating or is it just sex?” you say getting straight to the point.

“Dude!”

“What! I saw the toothbrush in your bathroom,” you smile. “I’m happy for you man. If you want to be with him or whatever.”

“I-I don’t know," he hesitates. "I really like him, but he’s a Viper and you know what that means."

You glance at him, then take one hand off the wheel to give his shoulder a firm squeeze. “Time to take your own advice, buddy,” you say, your voice steady. “Remember what you told me back then?

‘That’s half the thrill.’

‘When have you ever avoided doing something just because it’s not allowed?’

Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten your own words of wisdom.”

Hunter exhales, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, yeah, I remember,” he mumbles, but you can see the gears turning in his head.

"Dating is different when you get older," he shares after a moment of silence. "You don't really want to mess around with the forbidden just for the fuck of it. It's like the real deal now," he sighs. "Have your fun while you can, because it doesn't last forever."

You take a moment to really absorb Hunter's words. Was he implying that Jenna was just a phase in your life? Something forbidden you were testing out for the thrill of it? You’re almost certain he didn’t mean it that way, but you hate that he planted the thought in your head. Because you knew for a fact that you never saw Jenna as a fleeting moment. An act of rebellion or someone to mess around with.

The thought shakes you, and the weight of your emotions for the girl asleep in the backseat begins to sink in. It terrifies you—realizing just how much she truly means to you.

You weren’t in the mood for a deep, philosophical conversation right now, so you deflected with some light banter instead. “You’re not that much older than me, what—four, five years tops?”

“Eight,” Hunter deadpans, followed by a dry laugh. “And here I am, heading to a college town to party like I’m still eighteen,” he mutters, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

"Whoa party? Who said anything about partying?" you ask confused.

"Come on, you can't expect us to go to UCLA for the weekend—mind you exam season just finished. And you don't want us to party?"

"There is possibly a drug cartel hunting us down...and you want to party?"

"Yup," he answers, popping the P with an unbothered grin.

————

"Please tell me we're there," Aliyah yawns, stretching her arms out above her. "I can't stand another moment in this car."

"Technically it's an SUV," you mutter under your breath, earning a tired glare from the backseat. "But yeah, we’re almost there. Where am I headed?"

"Hold on let me text Markus real quick."

Again with that name. Before you could flip your mind over wondering who this guy was, you hear Jenna stir in the backseat, her voice groggy as she asked Aliyah, "how long was I out?"

Okay new obsession: Jenna's tired voice. It made your heart do a little flip.

Hunter looks over at you and he rolls his eyes. Why you still deny the fact that you have feelings for this girl is beyond him. He wanted to smack you across the face and ask you if you thought it was normal to get worked up over someone's sleepy voice. It was evident in the way your eyebrows jumped and the stupid smile on your lips. You obviously had feelings for the girl and everyone but you and Jenna could see it.

"Okay Y/n go to 350 De Neve drive," Aliyah shares upon getting the address.

You still had no idea where you were going, but you give a nod to Hunter to put in the address the girl gave.

Finally, not being able to stand it anymore, you ask the question that's been annoying you for the last two hours. "Who's Markus?"

“Our brother,” Jenna answers, glancing up at the rearview mirror where your eyes have been lingering throughout the whole drive.

Her sleepy voice almost distracted you from what she just said. Oh. That explains a lot. Silly old you getting jealous over nothing. Markus was their damn brother. You smile and nod. "Ahh okay, I see."

"What's with the smile Y/l/n?" Hunter teases you, knowing exactly why.

You don't respond and shoot him a side eye. "So is this a younger or older brother?"

"He's my twin," Aliyah mumbles, her attention stolen by something on her phone.

That didn't answer your question. But you still decide to engage in some small talk with Jenna just because you can, and totally not because you wanted to hear more of her tired voice.

"So are you the youngest Jenna?"

This time, Aliyah takes her eyes off her phone and bursts out laughing.

"Pffft—please! I’m dead!" she howls, clearly finding your question hilarious.

"Am I the youngest?" Jenna bites back, her tired voice now laced with a touch of sass. The combination is absolutely killer, and for a split second, you forget how to breathe. But your brain catches up quickly, and you realize you might have more pressing issues to worry about.

"Have you thought all this time that Aliyah is older than me?" she adds, her eyes narrowing playfully at the rearview mirror.

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. “Wait, what? I—uhh—well, yeah, kind of?” You try to backpedal, feeling your face flush slightly. "I mean, she seems older."

Aliyah bursts into laughter again, practically doubling over in the back seat. "Oh my god, I can't believe you thought that! You really think I'm the older one?"

Jenna shakes her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Nope. I’m their older sister."

Your eyes widen, and you glance over at Jenna, who looks far too small to be the older sibling. “But… you’re so tiny?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Jenna raises an eyebrow, her tired eyes turning into what you think is an amused glare. "Excuse me? Tiny?"

You instantly regret your words, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “I mean, you’re just… small compared to Aliyah! I thought she was the older one.”

It was now Hunter's turn to place a hand on your shoulder. "Please shut up before she starts ignoring you again."

————

“Marki-poo!” Aliyah coos running towards a guy that stood quite taller than her with dark hair.

It was around half past nine when you all finally arrived at what you now learned to be Markus’ dorm building.

While the sisters reunited with their brother, you and Hunter climbed out of the SUV that was parked on the road, both of you stretching to shake off the stiffness of hours on the freeway. The cool night air was refreshing, but your attention quickly drifted to Markus. As your eyes flicked toward him, you froze mid-stretch.

Holy shit. He was the spitting image of Jenna. Same piercing eyes, same sharp jawline, and even a similar smile. It was uncanny, and for a moment, you felt like the universe was playing some cosmic joke, doubling down on how much one family could mess with your head.

Before you could ruminate further, Markus noticed you and Hunter lingering by the SUV and waved. His grin widened as he called out, “Hey! You must be Y/n and Hunter. Aliyah and Jenna wouldn’t shut up about you guys over text.”

Aliyah rolled her eyes, while Jenna shot him a wide glare.

You blinked, caught off guard by his friendly tone. “Uh, yeah, that’s us,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you walked over.

“I bet you must love the freedom being away from home," Jenna asks out of the blue while she gazes around the campus mindlessly soaking everything in.

Her voice drew your gaze like a magnet, and for a split second, you forgot anyone else was there.

What was going on with you? Why was her voice making you feel all strange? It wasn't like this before, and even if it was you were at least able to hide it.

Hunter cleared his throat, clearly enjoying your inability to stay cool around Jenna.

“So, what’s the plan?” Hunter asked, breaking the tension.

Markus gestured toward the dorm building. “I’ve got room for all of you to crash if you’re staying the night. It’s a bit of a squeeze, but it beats sleeping in the car.”

Aliyah clapped her hands together, grinning. “Perfect! Let’s get inside. I need to pee, and I’m not doing it in some random gas station bathroom.”

As everyone started heading toward the entrance with their packed bags, Jenna fell into step beside you. Her shoulder brushed yours, and even though it was likely unintentional, it sent your heart racing.

“Thanks for bringing us here,” she said quietly, her voice soft but sincere. “I know this whole trip is a lot. But we haven’t seen Markus in forever.”

You glanced at her, momentarily caught off guard by the genuine gratitude in her tone. “It not that bad,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Besides, it’s not like I had much of a choice.”

Jenna smirked, the corners of her lips tugging upward in a way that made your chest tighten. “Fair enough.”

As the group disappeared through the dorm’s entrance, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this night was far from over—and that Markus wasn’t the only surprise waiting for you at UCLA.

————

"We need to set them up."

The group makes their trek to Markus' dorm, with the twins up at front, Hunter following in the middle, and Jenna and you walking side by side in the back.

Aliyah decides that she needs to take the reigns for this weekend and enlist her brother's help for something that needs to be done.

"Jenna and Y/n?" He asks, turning back to look at you both.

"—Don't look at them!" she snaps slapping her brother on the arm. "You can't make it obvious."

Markus just looks at her dumbfounded.

“Those two are so into each other, it’s painful to watch. They need to just make out already or something! I’m losing my mind over here.”

“Make out?” Markus repeats, his voice incredulous.

“Yes! Or, like, hold hands—anything! I’m sick of the constant eye-fucking!” she whisper-yells, gesturing dramatically.

“Eye-fucking?”

“Yes, Markus, eye-fucking!” Aliyah says, her tone exasperated as if explaining basic math to a toddler. “Now, what can we do to speed this along? How do college kids even date these days?”

"Uhm I don't know...they meet in class, ask for their snap, or they meet at parties—"

"That's it!" Aliyah shrieks in excitement before she quickly clasps her hand over her mouth, worried she was too loud. "Please tell me there's a party going on tonight?"

"Tonight?" Markus whispers back. "Come on sis, don't you think we should let them relax or something? We can figure this out tomorrow."

"Tonight Markus." She repeats sternly. Markus knew better than to defy his persistent sister. He sighs, "Yeah I know of one."

"Perfect!”

————

"Absolutely the fuck not Aliyah! Are you crazy?!"

The group finally made it to the dorm in one piece, and much to your relief, the tuition prices definitely matched the size of the dorms. It seemed like there was enough space for all five of you, and the best part? Markus had no roommate. Score.

After Aliyah rushes in to use the bathroom, you follow suit, eager to freshen up. You can hear a bit of commotion from the room—the sounds of people getting settled in, and some oddly loud talking—but you think nothing of it. That is, until you step out of the bathroom to the unmistakable sound of shouting.

You freeze.

Jenna and Aliyah are going at it, voices raised and words flying in a heated argument. Whatever was happening, it was definitely not a friendly sibling exchange.

"Oh my god," the younger sister drawls, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's just a party, why not?"

You remain at the door, not daring to take a step forward. Your eyes turn to Jenna, waiting for her response. Her eyebrow twitches and she suddenly smiles, but there's no humour behind it. "Why not?"

"Why not, Aliyah?" she responds, her voice dangerously calm. "Why not?"

She takes a step forward, her tone growing colder, sharper.

"Just because—"

Just because what?" Jenna interrupts. "Just because I’m the one who had to step up and pull you out of that mess?"

You notice Aliyah's deameanour slightly falter. Her lips slightly frowning.

"You think I like this shit? You wanna make the same mistakes again, just because you want to go to some stupid college party!" Jenna continues.

You, Markus, and Hunter exchange nervous glances, unsure of when to intervene without getting caught in the crossfire.

"I didn’t ask you to do that for me!" Aliyah finally gets out, her voice rising with defiance.

Jenna’s expression hardens, her words cutting through the air like a knife.

"Yeah, you’re right. You didn’t. But Dad did," Jenna spits the words out, her voice growing more heated with every syllable. "And I had no choice but to put my life on hold and pick up the pieces of your mess. So don’t act like it’s nothing. Don’t you dare act like I’m overreacting, Aliyah. You think I want to keep doing this? You think I want to keep cleaning up after you?"

Holy shit, how much did you miss while in the bathroom? Everything was fine just a few moments ago, how things escalated so fast baffled you.

"Fuck you," Aliyah spits out, her voice trembling as her glossy eyes reflect the anger and hurt beneath the surface. She storms past you, brushing your shoulder, and disappears out of the dorm room before anyone can stop her.

As you’re left standing awkwardly near the door, your eyes instinctively flick to Jenna, who’s still fuming, her chest rising and falling with each sharp breath. She looks like she’s barely holding it together.

But before you can even think about what to do, you notice Hunter and Markus already moving toward her. Hunter places a tentative hand on Jenna’s shoulder, his voice soft as he tries to calm her down. Markus, standing nearby, looks just as lost for words but ready to step in if needed.

Your gaze lingers on Jenna for a moment longer, watching the tension in her jaw and the way she refuses to let her emotions fully break through. Part of you wants to stay, to say something, to comfort her—but it’s clear she’s not alone. Hunter and Markus are already there for her.

The decision was obvious. With a deep breath, you step out into the hallway, following after Aliyah.

You can still hear the muffled voices of Hunter and Markus trying to talk Jenna down as you close the door behind you, leaving the tension of the dorm room behind. But even as you head down the hall, your mind keeps replaying Jenna’s words, the raw emotion in her voice, and the hurt etched into Aliyah’s face.

You sigh, shaking your head. This weekend’s already off to one hell of a start.

————

"Holy shit Aliyah! Slow down would you!" you shout after her as you see her enter the elevator.

You barely make it in time before the doors shut and you're panting while the girl remains silent, as you both wait for the elevator to reach the ground floor.

Neither of you say anything. She walks on the side walk away from the building and you follow a step behind her. There were other students out at this time, it wasn't too late—only around 10pm now. After some more aimless walking she finally plops down on a bench under a streetlight.

You linger for a moment before cautiously sitting down beside her, keeping a bit of space between you. She says nothing, and for a while, you both just sit there, the faint buzz of campus life in the background.

Finally, you break the silence. "Aliyah… you okay?"

She scoffs, wiping at her eyes quickly. "Do I look okay?" Her voice is sharp, but there’s no real venom behind it.

You don’t answer right away, watching her instead. "No," you admit softly. "You don’t. But… do you want to talk about it?"

You hear her sniffle and you turn to face her. She's wiping her eyes now with a sad smile on her face. "I don't even know why I'm crying, she's not wrong you know?"

"I doubt that's true," you offer gently. "She's just worried of losing you. Or seeing you make choices that could...you know, hurt you," you suggest, recalling the information you heard in the argument earlier.

"She didn’t say anything I didn’t already know. But hearing her say it—it hurts. She didn’t have to throw that in my face."

You nod slowly, understanding dawning. "You mean about the Vipers?"

Her head snaps toward you, eyes narrowing. "She told you?"

"No," you say quickly, raising your hands in defense. "She didn’t. That’s her story to tell, and I guess she’ll tell me when she’s ready. But… it’s not hard to figure out that there’s more to this than just a party."

The crying girl clears her throat before leaning back into the bench. “She could’ve told you. She probably didn’t tell you for my sake.”

You tilt your head confused, giving Aliyah your full attention.

“You’ll have to know this anyways if you’re going to date my sister and shut up I don’t wanna hear it. Let me explain.”

You laugh at her comment. How she knew you’d deny potentially dating her sister. But sensing the seriousness of the topic you zip your lips and listen, waiting for your long awaited questions to be answered.

“I’m sure you’ve gathered by now that Jenna is with the Vipers because of me.”

You softly nod.

“A few years ago,” she sighs recalling the night.

————

Aliyah was buzzing, the world around her a kaleidoscope of music, neon lights, and laughter. The bass thumped through her veins as she swayed to the beat, a red plastic cup in her hand. She wasn’t entirely sure what was in it—something strong, something that burned on the way down. Her "friends" had handed it to her earlier with a wink and a “just try it.”

It wasn’t her first party, but it was her first big one. College kids, flashy cars parked outside, and a house way too nice for a bunch of teenagers to be trashing. Percy had been the one to invite her, his charming smile making it seem like she’d be missing out on the event of the year if she didn’t show up.

“Aliyah!” Percy’s voice cut through the music. She turned, almost stumbling as the alcohol hit her harder than expected. He stood there, grinning, a bottle of something expensive-looking in one hand. “Having fun?”

“Yeah!” she replied, her words slightly slurred.

“Good, good,” he said, slinging an arm around her shoulder and steering her toward a quieter corner of the house. “Hey, you gotta try this.”

Aliyah blinked at the small pill he held out to her. “What is it?”

“Just something to help you relax,” he said, his voice smooth and reassuring. “Everyone’s doing it. No big deal.”

Normally, she would’ve said no. Normally, she wouldn’t have even been at a party like this. But the alcohol dulled her judgment, and Percy’s grin made it seem harmless. She hesitated for only a moment before taking the pill and swallowing it with a sip from her cup.

The next few hours were a blur. Colors seemed brighter, music louder, and her body lighter. She laughed at things that weren’t funny and danced until her legs felt like jelly. At some point, Percy led her upstairs, saying she needed to “rest.” She remembered collapsing onto a plush bed, her head spinning, and Percy’s shadow lingering in the doorway.

When she woke up the next morning, her phone was buzzing with texts from Jenna. But it was Percy’s smirk and the way he casually mentioned “having some footage” of her wild night that made her stomach drop.

“You wouldn’t want your dad seeing this, would you?” he’d said with a mockingly sweet tone.

That night changed everything.

————

"Hold on—did that asshole fucking—" you begin to demand, your voice low but trembling with barely contained fury. Your fists clench instinctively, already mapping out how you were gonna beat Percy's ass.

"No! No," she insists, her voice steadying as she places a hand on your arm, as if to keep you tethered. "Thank God, no. But..." Her gaze drops to the ground, shame flickering across her face. "Turns out it was a Viper party, he had footage of me taking whatever it was he gave me. And—" She swallows hard, her voice barely above a whisper, "he planted stuff on me too. Drugs. Enough to ruin everything if anyone found out."

The weight of her words sinks in, and your anger twists into something darker—colder. "That slimy, manipulative piece of shit," you mutter, pacing a few steps away before turning back to her. "He set you up."

Aliyah nods, hugging her arms to herself as if trying to shield herself from the memory.

"Sorry if this comes of rather insensitive but rich kid doing drugs doesn't really strike me as a headline. You see that shit everyday. Would it really have ruined everything?"

"My Dad's a dick. He didn't want it effecting his company. And unfortunately in his world it's a big deal." She pauses before continuing, "Percy just wanted leverage. Something to use against Dad." Her voice breaks, and she exhales shakily. "Dad handled it, but..."

"But that’s when Jenna got pulled into this mess," you finish for her, the realization hitting like a freight train.

Aliyah nods again, her eyes glassy. "Yeah. Dad made her join the Vipers to keep an eye on Percy and make sure he kept his word. But it wasn’t just that." She hesitates, biting her lip before continuing. "Jenna found out Percy made her joining the crew part of his deal. Like he wanted to make sure he had control over us both. And Dad said yes without hesitation."

The depth of Percy’s manipulation and the selfishness of the girls' father makes your stomach churn. You no longer felt any guilt for stealing that assholes car.

"And Jenna agreed?" you ask quietly, already knowing the answer.

"She didn’t have a choice," Aliyah whispers, her voice cracking. "Dad wouldn’t let me take the fall, and Jenna...she’s too loyal. She put herself in the line of fire for me."

You sink onto the bench beside her, running a hand through your hair as the weight of it all settles in. "Aliyah...this isn’t your fault," you say softly, though you’re not sure if you’re convincing her or yourself.

"It feels like it is," she murmurs, staring at her hands. "If I hadn’t been so stupid that night—"

"Stop." Your tone is firm but gentle. "Percy’s the one who’s to blame here. He’s the asshole who exploited you and dragged Jenna into this mess. Not you."

She doesn’t respond, but the way her shoulders shake tells you she’s trying to hold back tears. You reach out, hesitating for a moment before placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We’ll figure this out, Aliyah. We have the leverage we need. We’ll get Jenna out of this. I promise."

For the first time since the argument, she looks at you, her eyes glistening with vulnerability. "You mean that?"

"More than anything."

The two of you sit in silence after the night’s heavy revelations. It’s not awkward—if anything, it feels like the silence is exactly what you both need. As you sit on the bench, you watch students pass by in the soft glow of the campus lights. Some walk alone, weighed down by heavy backpacks and heavier thoughts. Others are carefree, laughing and chatting with friends, their steps light as air. A few move with quiet confidence, calm and steady.

You wonder, not for the first time, what your life might have been like if you hadn’t been born in Brimstone. Would you have been one of these students? What version of you would have existed here, unburdened by everything that came with your hometown?

“I guess…I can see why your sister was upset,” you say finally, breaking the silence.

Aliyah doesn’t respond right away, but she nods, the motion just visible from the corner of your eye.

“But,” you add with a small smile, “that was two years ago. You deserve another chance.” You turn to her, flashing a grin. “And besides, you’ve got me, Hunter, and Markus watching your back now.” You flex your arms dramatically. “No idea about those two, but nothing gets past me.”

She snorts, a laugh bubbling up despite herself. “Please, put those away. You’re going to embarrass us both.”

Her laughter softens, and when she turns to you, there’s a seriousness in her expression that catches you off guard. “I really hope it works out between you and my sister,” she says quietly.

The words hit you harder than you expect, leaving you momentarily speechless. It’s still complicated—still messy. But something about Aliyah’s vulnerability tonight makes it easier to let the thought cross your mind, even if you can’t voice it aloud.

For now, you settle for the truth that feels safest to admit, even if only to yourself.

I hope so too.

————

You’re greeted by the sight of the Ortega sisters wrapped in a tight embrace near the curb. Their voices are low, but the murmured apologies and soft laughter carry in the quiet night.

Jenna’s voice breaks through, her tone unusually tender. “No, I should’ve given you a chance. I didn’t have to be so mean, Aliyah. I’m sorry.”

Aliyah sniffles, her own voice equally apologetic. “I was wrong too. I should’ve listened to you. You’re just trying to look out for me.”

The rest of you—Hunter, Markus, and yourself—watch the heartwarming spectacle from the bench you were on moments ago with Aliyah. You exchange incredulous looks, eyebrows raised in unison.

“They’re hugging,” you point out, still processing.

“Like…full-on hugging,” Markus adds, as if needing confirmation.

Hunter leans back, crossing his arms. “I don’t know what’s more shocking—the fact that they stopped yelling or that they’re acting like this never happened.”

You snort, shaking your head. It’s kind of funny, really, how quickly they’ve gone from shouting to sobbing on each other’s shoulders. You glance at Hunter and Markus, a knowing thought crossing your mind. Just like your talk with Aliyah, it’s clear they must’ve said something to Jenna. Whatever it was, it worked, and you’re quietly grateful for it.

“They’re like a Netflix drama,” Markus muses. “Big fight in episode nine, full reconciliation by episode ten.”

Hunter chuckles. “They’re efficient, I’ll give them that.”

You smile to yourself, watching the sisters. It’s a relief to see them like this, to see the tension replaced with understanding. For all their differences, their bond is unshakable, and tonight, that’s clearer than ever.

“Efficient’s good,” you remark softly. “We could all use a little more of that.”

The three of you fall into a comfortable silence, still seated on the bench, content to let the moment play out. It’s been a long day, but for the first time in hours, it feels like everything might just turn out okay.

Your thoughts drift as the sisters continue to talk, the quiet laughter between them like the perfect breeze after a tense day. The closest you’ve ever had to something like that is Anton. It’s not quite the same—he isn’t your sibling, not by blood anyway, but he’s always been there, filling that role.

And yet, you and Anton aren’t like Jenna and Aliyah. When you two fight, it doesn’t end with quick apologies or mutual understanding. No, you’ve gone days without speaking. Weeks, even. Your disagreements have never been about anything as heavy as the sisters’ fight tonight, but they’ve been passionate all the same—mostly about the club.

You can still hear Anton’s voice in your head during your last big blow-up a few months ago—long before you met Jenna. “You think you’re above this? You think you’re better than the rest of us?” His words had stung, but so had your response. You’d called him reckless, accused him of not understanding your hesitations about racing, about the club, about everything it represented.

Looking back, you know you were both too stubborn to see the other’s perspective. And while things eventually smoothed over—like they always did—you can’t help but wonder if there’s still some lingering tension under the surface, something neither of you has addressed. And ever since that day he jokingly pulled that gun on you, ironically things have been calm. He probably thinks you're establishing yourself in the crew, and you don't know what to tell him.

Watching the sisters now, you feel a pang of envy. They’ve fought, sure, but they’ve also made their way back to each other in a way that feels effortless. You wonder if you and Anton could ever find that same ease, or if the unspoken disagreements between you will always weigh down your bond.

Hunter nudges you out of your thoughts. “You okay over there?”

You nod, shaking off the memory. “Yeah, just thinking.”

“About?”

You glance at the sisters, their shared laughter filling the night air. “How nice it must be to make up that fast,” you say simply.

Markus chimes in. “Don’t get too used to it. This is a rare sight.”

You laugh lightly, but the thought lingers. Maybe, just maybe, you and Anton could find that kind of understanding someday.

The sisters finally break their embrace and walk toward you, their expressions a mix of relief and mischief. Aliyah, ever the wildcard, claps her hands together and grins.

“Well, now that we’re done being dramatic, who’s ready to party?”

You glance at Jenna, who offers a small, almost shy smile, and then at Hunter and Markus. Surprisingly, no one objects. After the emotionally charged evening, maybe letting loose doesn’t sound so bad.

“Alright, let’s do it,” Hunter says, standing and stretching his arms.

As you all head back toward the dorm building, Markus throws a casual comment over his shoulder. “Hope you all packed swimsuits.”

The group collectively freezes, exchanging bewildered glances.

“Swimsuits?” Aliyah asks, narrowing her eyes.

Markus turns to smirk at her. “It’s a pool party. Did I not mention that?”

Your brain short-circuits. A pool party? Swimwear? Holy crap. Jenna in a bikini? You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, your face turning an embarrassing shade of red.

Oh god, what if she looks over here? you panic internally. Play it cool. Act normal. Breathe.

But the thought of Jenna, all confident and effortlessly beautiful, lounging poolside or—nope, nope, abort mission. You’re pretty sure your gay panic is written all over your face, and you try to busy yourself with looking anywhere but at her.

“Y/n?” Jenna’s voice pulls you from your spiraling thoughts.

You snap your head toward her, your voice coming out a little too loud. “What? Yes! Pool party! Great idea. Love it.”

Jenna raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by your overenthusiasm. “Uh-huh,” she says, her lips quirking into a small smile.

Aliyah gives you a knowing smirk but thankfully doesn’t say anything, and the group continues walking. You tug your shirt over your face, hoping to disappear into it.

————

"Why did you pack so many bikinis?" Jenna asks looking into her sister's duffel bag. 

"I had a feeling that something like this would happen," Aliyah mutters, her full attention on the swim suit she’s holding up in front of her.

The top is a classic triangle style with thin straps that tie around the neck and back, offering a simple yet sultry design. The cups are just enough to leave something to the imagination while perfectly accentuating curves. The bottoms—equally bold.

Jenna's eyes narrow at the sight. "You're wearing that?"

"Nope. You are."

The older Ortega looked at her sister like she just said the most insane words known to man. "What?"

"You heard me. You're wearing it."

Jenna snorts, crossing her arms. "Not in this lifetime."

"Oh, come on!" Aliyah groans, dangling the bikini in front of Jenna like a carrot on a stick. "It’s cute, it’ll look amazing on you, and it’s a pool party. You’ll blend right in."

Jenna glares at her sister, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, because nothing says ‘blending in’ like wearing half an outfit."

Aliyah rolls her eyes, unbothered. "You’ll thank me when you’re the center of attention. Besides..." She leans in, lowering her voice just enough to add some drama. "I’m pretty sure a certain someone would love to see you in this."

Jenna’s face flushes instantly. She hated that she actually considered wearing it for a second.

She snatches the bikini from Aliyah’s hand and tosses it on the bed before her sister can say another word. "You’re impossible."

Aliyah beams triumphantly. "You'll be thanking me later."

————

Outside, you finish getting dressed, opting for a simple look. You stick with your black sports bra and borrow a pair of pink swim shorts from Hunter, not giving much thought to your outfit. With a casual shrug, you figure it’s good enough.

As you adjust the waistband of the shorts, Hunter glances down at your stomach, his eyes lingering a beat too long on your toned abs. He smirks and quips, "Someone’s definitely gonna appreciate those."

You roll your eyes, ignoring the comment as your face heats up slightly. Pulling on your zip-up hoodie, you tug it closed halfway, hoping to downplay any attention.

Hunter chuckles softly, clearly amused by your reaction.

Before you can retaliate, Markus strolls over, sighing dramatically as he collapses onto the edge of his bed. He looks at you with exaggerated seriousness, steepling his fingers like some kind of TV detective.

"I think, as a brother, I have to do this," Markus begins, his tone solemn but with a glint of amusement in his eyes. "I’ve always done this with the guys Aliyah’s been into, so it only feels right to extend the same courtesy for Jenna."

Your stomach drops. Oh no. Is this really happening?

Markus straightens, folding his arms like a dad interrogating his daughter’s date. "What are your intentions with my sister?"

You freeze, blinking at him in horror. "What?"

Hunter chuckles, clearly finding this entire situation hilarious as he leans casually against the wall to watch the show.

"You heard me," Markus presses, his expression still annoyingly serious. "Jenna’s my sister. I need to know you’re not playing games. So, what are your intentions?"

You gulp, the words catching in your throat. You glance at Hunter for backup, but he just shrugs with a grin, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

"I…" you start, feeling your face grow hotter by the second. You will yourself to stay calm, refusing to let the teasing get to you. "Jenna’s… she’s important to me. I’m not leading her on, if that’s what you’re worried about."

Markus raises an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied.

Do you have to admit in this very moment that you maybe kind of like his sister...?

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. "Look, I don’t really know where we stand right now, but I care about her—a lot. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her."

Markus studies you for a moment longer before breaking into a grin. "Okay, that’s acceptable. For now."

"For now?" you echo, incredulous but Markus is already getting up, stretching like he just completed some monumental task.

"Yeah. Just remember, I’ll be watching." He winks at you before heading back to his side of the room.

"What are we watching?" Aliyah's voice suddenly booms, startling you.

You whip your head around at the speed of lightning, and of course your eyes lock onto Jenna's. Thank god she had the same idea as you and wore a jumper over whatever her swim outfit was so you couldn't tell what she was wearing.

Still, your stomach knots. Shit. Did Jenna hear you talking about her?

"Nothing," you mutter to Aliyah, trying to sound casual, though the heat creeping up your neck says otherwise. "Are we ready to go?"

As you glance back at Jenna, you realize she’s watching you intently. Her gaze lingers a little too long, her head tilted ever so slightly, as if she’s piecing something together. You feel your skin flush under her scrutiny, suddenly hyper-aware of her presence.

Then, just as you think you might combust from the tension, a slow, amused smile breaks across her face. Her eyes flick downward, and you follow her gaze to… oh god. The stupidly bright pink shorts Hunter lent you.

"Nice look," Jenna quips, her voice light and teasing.

Your hands instinctively tug at the hem of your hoodie, trying to shield as much of the shorts as possible. "Yeah, well… they’re functional."

"Functional," she echoes, her grin widening. "Sure."

Aliyah raises an eyebrow, looking between the two of you. "Alright, lovebirds," she says, rolling her eyes. "Let’s get going before the party’s over."

As the group starts heading out, you walk ahead, desperate to escape Jenna’s knowing smirk. But you can’t help glancing back just once, catching her still smiling at you, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and something else you can’t quite name.

————

Courtesy of Markus' Uber app, the driver slows to a stop, and you all step out, craning your necks to take in the towering building before you. The sleek glass facade gleams under the city lights, exuding wealth and extravagance.

"Jesus," Hunter breathes, his jaw practically hitting the sidewalk. "Is this a college party or a Kardashian party?"

You find yourself mirroring his wide-eyed expression. "This is… a lot," you mutter.

Markus grins. "Nah, it’s just a kid in my class. He’s cool. His family’s super rich, though."

You nod absently, but the information doesn’t exactly calm your nerves. As you stare at the building, a sudden wave of discomfort washes over you. Will it be obvious that you don’t belong here? The thought crosses your mind and stubbornly lingers, gnawing at the edges of your confidence.

You glance at Hunter, half-expecting him to share your unease, but no—he’s practically bouncing on his toes, his excitement palpable. Of course, he’d thrive in an environment like this.

Before you know it, you’re all piling into the elevator, Aliyah confidently hitting the button for the penthouse. The mirrored walls reflect your group back at you, and you take a steadying breath, trying to shake off the impostor syndrome creeping in.

As the elevator ascends, you feel a gentle tug on your sleeve. You glance down to see Jenna looking up at you, concern etched in her features.

"You okay?" she whispers, her voice soft enough that only you can hear.

You blink, caught off guard. "Huh? Yeah, I’m fine," you reply quickly, though the words feel hollow.

"You’ve been quiet," she presses, her eyes scanning your face. "You were lively during the ride, but now… it’s like you flipped a switch."

Her observation catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re unsure how to respond. It’s not often someone notices these shifts in you—let alone calls them out.

"I guess I’m just… a little overwhelmed," you admit finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jenna’s lips curve into a small, understanding smile. "Don’t worry," she says, her hand brushing against yours briefly in reassurance. "You’re with us. You belong here."

Her words hang in the air as the elevator dings, signaling your arrival at the penthouse. The doors slide open, revealing a lavish space filled with music, laughter, and an intoxicating air of luxury.

You step out, Jenna’s quiet reassurance still echoing in your mind, and try to believe it.

You barely have time to process the fleeting warmth of Jenna’s hand brushing against yours before a guy—presumably the host—beelines toward your group, a wide, sloppy grin plastered on his face.

“Markus! You made it, bro!” he slurs, his sunglasses tilted crookedly on his nose, a solo cup in each hand. One is filled with something neon green, the other an alarming shade of blue, and neither looks remotely safe to drink. You take him in quickly—barefoot, dripping wet, and leaving a sizable puddle in his wake. The guy clearly just climbed out of the massive pool that stretches across the center of the penthouse and doesn’t seem to care one bit about the water ruining the hardwood floors.

While Markus greets him with a laugh and a hearty handshake, you take the opportunity to glance around. The penthouse is sprawling—easily larger than half the homes on your street combined. The walls are painted a deep, moody purple, accented by dim, neon lighting that shifts colors in rhythm with the heavy bass of the music. The furniture screams luxury, from the sleek leather couches to the glass coffee tables littered with half-empty cups, discarded towels, and the occasional misplaced phone.

The centerpiece of the room, though, is undoubtedly the pool. It’s an indoor marvel, its edges lined with glowing tiles that cast an ethereal blue light across the entire space. The water ripples as people dive in or lounge at the edges, drinks in hand. Some are modestly dressed in one-pieces or board shorts, while others push the limits of decency, their swimwear leaving little to the imagination.

The energy in the room is wild, chaotic, and undeniably alluring. You can’t help but feel a little out of place amidst the atmosphere, but there’s also a strange pull to it—a curiosity about what the night might hold.

As Markus continues his lively conversation with the host, Aliyah nudges your arm, drawing your attention. “Anyone catch your attention?" she wiggles her eyebrows while looking around the penthouse.

Thankfully Jenna didn't hear the question and you don't answer. You glance over at Jenna, who’s taking in the chaos with a cool, unreadable expression. She seems completely at ease, as if she’s seen this kind of thing a hundred times before.

Finally, the host turns his attention to the rest of your group, his bleary eyes landing on Jenna. “And who are you?” he slurs, grinning like every rich boy stereotype rolled into one. He awkwardly stacks one solo cup into the other—both already full of whatever questionable concoctions he’s drinking. The liquid sloshes over the sides and onto the floor, and you can’t help but think, Damn, it’s gonna suck for whoever has to clean this up tomorrow.

He adjusts his crooked sunglasses onto his head with one hand and extends the other toward Jenna, clearly expecting her to shake it. Jenna hesitates, her eyes darting to Aliyah for guidance. Aliyah gives her an encouraging nod, but the simple act seems to weigh on her. Finally, after a moment of visible deliberation, Jenna gives the guy’s hand a quick, perfunctory shake, her expression polite but distant.

The host grins wider, clearly undeterred. “Hope you’ve got a swimsuit under that,” he says with a sloppy wink. “Maybe I’ll see you later.”

You stiffen, your jaw clenching as the scene plays out. What the fuck? The guy’s blatant drunkenness is gross enough, but his flirty comment? That’s a whole other level of irritating. You can’t say anything—you don’t have that right—but a twinge of jealousy twists in your chest nonetheless.

Of course something like this was going to happen. How could it not? Jenna was gorgeous, and anyone with eyes could see that. All these drunk college losers were going to shoot their shot, thinking they had a chance with her. The thought makes your blood simmer, but you force yourself to look away, jaw still tight.

Jenna, to her credit, doesn’t react much beyond a slight narrowing of her eyes. She turns back to your group, brushing off the host’s comment as if it were a stray piece of lint on her sleeve.

She turns to look at you and notices the way your jaw is clenched. And she can't help but notice the burning sensation in her chest at the sight. Is this the reaction she had wanted? She should've never let Aliyah get into her head.

"Make her jealous."

Her younger sister had whispered to her before they entered the party.

You breathe out a quiet sigh, your irritation still bubbling under the surface but tempered by the fact that she didn’t seem fazed.

Aliyah nudges you again, her voice low and teasing. “Careful, your face is gonna freeze like that.”

You roll your eyes, the tension easing just slightly. This is fine, you tell yourself. This is just a party.

————

This is not just a party.

The night had started with all five of you sticking together, like a tight-knit squad entering enemy territory. But, predictably, the chaos of the party soon swallowed you up, scattering everyone like confetti. Hunter had found his place in the pool, leading a cannonball competition that echoed with cheers and splashes loud enough to rival the music. Aliyah, ever the social butterfly, was mingling with Markus’ friends—some of whom she seemed to know already, laughing and chatting like this was her natural habitat.

Markus and Jenna claimed a spot poolside, lounging on sleek deck chairs while chatting with a group of partygoers. Probably Markus’ friends, you figured. He looked entirely in his element, gesturing animatedly while Jenna sat beside him, a quiet but magnetic presence.

As for you? Well, you were stationed at the edge of the action, nursing your second cup of the mystery blue fluid. It seemed like the safer option compared to the guy mixing vodka with… was that Mountain Dew? Your self-assigned mission was simple: keep an eye on Aliyah and shoot occasional glances at the girl by the pool.

Okay, maybe more than occasional.

Jenna was wearing a black bikini that was deceptively simple, all clean lines and understated elegance. It wasn’t flashy, but it didn’t need to be. It hugged her in all the right places, the kind of outfit that made her look like she’d walked straight out of a swimwear catalog. You could still feel the lingering heat in your cheeks from when she’d first taken off her jumper.

————

She had casually peeled it off as if it were no big deal—just another layer to shed in the heat of the party. But for you? It was a moment. One second, she was her usual, effortlessly cool self in the oversized jumper, and the next, she was standing there in that bikini, and your brain just… short-circuited.

Your first thought: Oh my god, she’s gorgeous. Your second thought: No, wait, she’s always been gorgeous. Your third thought: Holy crap, I’m staring.

Hunter, of course, had noticed your reaction because he never missed an opportunity to tease. He leaned over with a smirk and whispered, “Careful, you’re gonna burn a hole through her with that look.”

You’d snapped out of it with a flustered, “Shut up,” but it was too late. The damage was done. You were blushing so hard, you were sure your face could have powered the penthouse lights.

————

Now, as you stood there, gripping your cup like a lifeline, your eyes kept drifting back to Jenna. The soft glow from the pool lights made her skin look impossibly smooth, her hair falling over one shoulder in loose waves.

You told yourself to look away—to focus on something, anything else—but it was impossible. She was mesmerizing in a way that made the rest of the party blur into the background.

Your drink was halfway to your lips when you realized you hadn’t blinked in a while. Get it together, you scolded yourself, tearing your gaze away with a sharp breath.

But even as you tried to distract yourself, the truth was unavoidable: Jenna Ortega in a bikini—scratch that. Jenna Ortega was your kryptonite.

————

You can’t take your eyes off her.

You tell yourself it’s because you’re keeping an eye out, making sure no one bothers her, but the truth is, you’re mesmerized. She looks so comfortable, so effortlessly beautiful, and it’s infuriating how easy she makes it all seem.

“Enjoying the view?”

You nearly choke on air and whip your head to the side to see Aliyah standing there, a sly grin on her face.

“I—what?” you stammer, heat rushing to your face.

"I’ve seen you looking over there about fifty times in the last ten minutes."

You stiffened, immediately defensive. "I have not."

Aliyah raised an eyebrow, her smirk betraying just how much she was enjoying this. "Uh-huh. Sure. So, you’re not staring at my sister like she’s the eighth wonder of the world?"

She laughs. “Relax, I’m just messing with you.” She leans in closer, lowering her voice. “But seriously, you need to tell her. How long are you going to keep dancing around? And not like you’re not exactly subtle either.”

You glare at her, but the effect is ruined by the fact that your face is probably as red as the solo cup in your hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” She straightens up, her grin widening.

”Are you drinking tonight?” You ask her, changing the topic but also wanting to know the state of her so you can protect her as needed.

“Nope. It’s a sober night. Don’t worry about me and go get your girl before someone else does,” she urges.

Aliyah added, her tone lighter now, "if you do decide to shoot your shot, maybe don’t wait too long. She’s got options, you know."

You groan, taking another swig from your drink. The thought of Jenna with someone else is burning you.

“Anyway, I’m heading to the pool. Try not to stare too hard.”

She saunters off, leaving you standing there, flustered and annoyed but mostly just embarrassed. You glance back at Jenna, who’s now leaning back on her arms, her head tilted toward the ceiling.

You sigh and take a sip of your drink, the bitterness doing little to distract you from the whirlwind in your chest.

This is not just a party, you think again. This is torture.

————

As you leaned against the railing, sipping on your third drink of the night and trying to push Aliyah's words to the back of your mind, the host stumbled up to you, a wide, sloppy grin plastered across his face. He was holding a vape pen, which he took a long drag from before exhaling a cloud of vapor that smelled faintly of mango.

"Hey, my friennnd!" he slurred, swaying slightly as he leaned in closer than necessary. "You not havin’ a good time or what? You’re just… standing here."

You sighed, already exasperated. "I’m fine, thanks."

He squinted at you like he didn’t believe a word of it, then followed your line of sight toward the pool. His eyes lit up in drunken revelation. "Ahhh! I see what this is!" He laughed loudly and gave you a hearty slap on the back that almost made you spill your drink. "You’ve got eyes for the girl, huh?"

You stiffened, your face heating up. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Sure, sure," he said, waving you off with a laugh. "You’re just standing here, gripping the shit out of that drink, sneaking glances at her like a lovesick puppy because you hate her."

You rolled your eyes, trying to brush him off, but he wasn’t done. "You should go talk to her! Make your move, my dude. Life’s short, and she’s…" He gestured vaguely toward Jenna, nearly knocking himself off balance in the process. "She’s worth it, you know?"

The sincerity in his drunken tone threw you for a loop. You frowned, crossing your arms. "Weren’t you flirting with her earlier?"

He blinked at you, then laughed like you’d just told the funniest joke in the world. "Oh, that? Dude, I flirt with everyone here. It’s, like, my whole thing. Keeps the vibe alive, you know?"

You stared at him, unsure whether to be annoyed or amused. "So, what? None of it’s serious?"

He shrugged, leaning heavily against the railing beside you. "Sometimes it is. Sometimes it’s not. Most of the time, it’s just… me trying to connect. I mean, isn’t that what we’re all doing? Trying to feel something?"

His words hit harder than you expected, and you found yourself looking at him in a new light. Despite his slurred speech and drunken antics, there was something oddly profound about what he’d just said.

"So… what are you trying to feel?" you asked before you could stop yourself.

He let out a long sigh, his grin fading slightly. "Dunno, man. Something real, I guess. You ever feel like you’re just… floating? Like, you’re surrounded by people, but none of it feels solid? So you do stupid stuff—throw parties, flirt with strangers—just to remind yourself you’re alive?"

You stared at him, taken aback by the sudden vulnerability.

This was the last thing you were expecting tonight.

"Yeah," you admitted quietly. "I think I get that."

He looked at you, his expression surprisingly sober for a moment. "Then you get why you shouldn’t waste time. If you feel something—really feel something—you gotta go for it. Otherwise, what’s the point?"

You glanced back toward the pool, where Jenna was laughing at something Markus said, her eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that made your heart stutter.

“And if you don’t wanna take that chance. And want to take the easy way out. I’ll show you how to party,” he smirks gesturing to the end of the drinks table where three girls who you hadn’t noticed earlier were very obviously checking you out.

“I feel like kissing that guy over there,” he randomly announced. “Ciao!”

Maybe the drunk host had a point. And you made your choice.

————

The last month had been an avalanche of unsolicited advice.

Anton had urged you to chase what you want. Your mom stressed staying safe and doing what’s necessary. Hunter and Aliyah kept nudging you to address whatever was going on with Jenna.

And yet, you’d done nothing. Every word of wisdom rolled off you like water off a duck’s back. That’s what made it so damn funny that a drunk party host, of all people, was the one to finally light a fire under you.

Half the room was chasing something—a feeling. The same feeling that teens, young adults, and even grown adults spent their lives chasing. Butterflies, knots, secret glances, the kind of love that makes your heart race and your world slow down. Some people would do anything to find it. Others would do anything to forget it. But not everyone gets it.

What hit you was this: half the room was drowning their emptiness in alcohol, filling voids they didn’t know how to name. You, though? You didn’t have to fill that void. Because you already had what they were searching for.

And that was why, with a newfound determination, you started walking toward Markus, Aliyah, and Jenna by the pool.

You rehearsed what you might say in your head. You doubted you had the guts to blurt out a bold “I like you”—not even after three cups of that mystery blue drink. Sure, the booze helped take the edge off your nerves, but it wasn’t strong enough to make you reckless. Nothing at this party was as potent as Sinner’s jungle juice from back home.

Maybe you’d start small: “You look beautiful tonight.” Yeah, that could work. It was a start.

One way or another, Jenna was going to leave this party knowing how you felt about her.

The closer you got, the more you shook off your nerves. You watched Aliyah, now in the pool and leaning on the edge, whisper something in Jenna’s ear. You didn’t think much of it. The party was deafening, so whispering—or yelling—was the only way anyone could be heard.

But as you closed the gap, you saw Jenna turn her attention from Aliyah to the guy next to her. He was already looking at her, and whatever he’d said made her laugh—a real, full-bodied laugh. She even reached out and playfully slapped his arm.

What the hell?

You tried to brush it off. It was just a party. A nervous habit, maybe. It didn’t mean anything.

But then she did it again. The laugh was softer this time, more intimate. The playful arm slap turned into a lingering touch.

And this time, it wasn’t so easy to dismiss.

Jenna rises onto her tiptoes, leaning closer to the guy beside her. Whatever she whispers in his ear makes him nod, a smug grin stretching across his face. He hoists himself up onto the pool’s ledge with ease, droplets of water glistening on his skin in the dim party lights. Then, extending a hand, he helps Jenna out of the pool as well.

You stand frozen, watching as they make their way around the pool—not toward you, but on the opposite side. Hand in hand, they head for the dance floor.

Your stomach knots. Your feet feel glued to the ground, and you can only stand there, watching in disbelief as they disappear into the crowd.

You could see how the guy takes in the sights of her in that swim suit and it made you seethe with anger.

Aliyah scans the room, her gaze drifting over the pulsating crowd of partygoers. She spots you across the pool, standing stiffly, your eyes locked on Jenna like she’s the only person in the room. The intensity of your stare isn’t lost on her.

Her brow furrows, and she mouths a quiet, “Oh.”

“What’s up?” Markus asks, turning to her with a confused expression.

Aliyah hesitates before answering, her voice low, almost guilty. “I think I messed up.”

Aliyah’s stomach twists as she recalls her own words to Jenna earlier: “Go with the flow; it might cause someone to spring into action.”

Markus turns to her, confused. “What’re you talking about?”

Aliyah nods in your direction. “Look at her.”

Markus follows her gaze and immediately notices you, frozen and visibly fuming, your emotions written all over your face. He lets out a low whistle. “Oof. Yeah, that doesn’t look good.”

Aliyah shakes her head, already looking around. “We need to find Hunter. I don’t see this ending well if we don’t intervene.”

Markus groans, but he’s already following her lead. “Great. Another party, another disaster.”

————

Just minutes ago, you’d felt almost enlightened, convinced you were nothing like the crowd around you—certain you weren’t chasing the same empty void so many here seemed desperate to fill.

But now? Now you felt ridiculous. Pissed. And maybe that mystery blue drink had hit harder than you realized, because suddenly, you were stalking through the crowd, determined to find the host.

He wasn’t hard to spot. Sure enough, he’d achieved his goal, currently locked in a passionate kiss with the guy he’d been eyeing earlier.

Thankfully, he noticed you approaching just in time and broke away, grinning lazily.

You stopped in front of him, your frustration bubbling over. “Show me how to have a good time.”

The host’s grin faltered the moment he registered your expression. For someone as drunk as he was, it was almost impressive how quickly his disappointment flickered across his face. He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly, as if he’d hoped you wouldn’t end up here, fuming and frustrated.

But he nodded, brushing off the moment with a shrug and an exaggerated stumble in your direction. “Alright, alright,” he slurred, gesturing for you to follow him, leaving the guy he was making out with stranded for your sake. “Come on, let’s fix that mood of yours.”

He weaved his way back toward the drinks table, unsteady on his feet but somehow managing to avoid a complete wipeout. You followed reluctantly, your anger simmering beneath the surface as he gestured toward the end of the drinks table. The trio of girls you hadn’t noticed earlier perked up immediately, their eyes lighting up when they spotted you.

"First, we need to get you absolutely zonked!” the host cheers, thrusting a cup of that ominous green liquid into your hand.

You hesitate, staring at the swirling contents as if they might hold all the answers—or at least some of the regrets you’d rather avoid. Still, you take a sip, and the potent concoction hits you almost immediately. It’s stronger than the blue drink, and you know one thing for sure, you don’t want to get so wasted that you do something irreparably stupid at a party full of strangers. One drink, you decide. That’s your limit.

The host, however, is in full swing. “Alright! Step one done. Now, we find you a girl. The goal’s to make your gal jealous, right?”

You don’t say anything, your silence speaking volumes. He glances back at the dance floor, where Jenna’s still twirling and laughing with the guy. “Yeah, I’ll take that as a yes. She’s dancing with him, so we’re gonna play the same game. Cool?”

Guilt creeps up your spine, making your stomach churn more than the drink. You overthink everything. What would Jenna think? Would this make things worse?

The host seems to sense your hesitation. He snaps his fingers in front of your face. “Hey, stop thinking. You wanted to party, right? This is partying. Just dance and vibe—no strings attached. And bonus, she’ll notice. Maybe even pull a move herself. Cool?”

You still don’t answer, but he barrels on regardless, scanning the room with surprising clarity for someone who’s barely standing upright. His gaze lands on a girl across the room, sipping a drink and watching you with an air of quiet confidence. “I say you go for her,” he says, nodding toward her. “She’s not as desperate as those three over there practically undressing you with their eyes.” He gestures to the trio at the end of the table, but your attention is already locked on the girl he pointed out.

She’s gorgeous. Her sleek black hair falls effortlessly over her shoulders, catching the dim lights in a way that feels almost cinematic. Her lips, painted a deep red, curve into a subtle smirk as her dark hazel, almond-shaped eyes fixate on you. Those eyes… they’re hypnotic, pulling you in like she already knows the effect she’s having on you.

And then she does it—the sticky eyes trick. She looks at you, holds your gaze for a heartbeat longer than necessary, then glances away like she’s already won. It’s deliberate, it’s calculated, and it’s working.

“She’s doing it on purpose,” the host mutters, nudging you forward. “That’s your cue, my friend.”

Your feet move before your brain catches up, guilt and hesitation drowned out by whatever magnetic pull this girl has on you. As you approach, she tilts her head slightly, a single brow arching in challenge. The smirk deepens, and she takes a slow sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving yours now. It’s like she’s daring you to come closer, daring you to make the first move.

And you do.

It all happened so fast. One moment, you were walking across the room, drawn in by her magnetic gaze, and the next, you were standing in front of her. Barely any words were exchanged—just a coy smile and a simple, “Hey, I’m Sofia. Wanna dance?” Before you could even think, you nodded, and now here you are—another pair of bodies swaying in the pulsating rhythm of the music, like the rest of the world had melted away.

Her arms rest comfortably around your shoulders, her touch warm and intimate as if you’ve done this a million times before. Your hands find their place naturally at her waist, and the two of you move in perfect sync, every beat of the music mirrored in your steps. It’s effortless—the way her body follows yours, the way your energy bounces off hers.

But every few seconds, your eyes betray you, glancing over your shoulder to see what Jenna’s up to. And there she is, still dancing with that guy, laughing at something he’s said, her head tilting back just enough to make your stomach twist.

Sofia’s voice pulls you back. “Hmm, are we making that girl jealous?” she teases, her tone light but sharp enough to cut through the haze of your thoughts.

“Maybe,” you admit cautiously, the word barely audible over the music. You brace yourself, worried she’ll be offended that you’re using her for this. But instead, she smirks, her dark eyes glinting with mischief.

“Well,” she murmurs, her lips curving into a playful grin, “we’ll have to do a better job than this.” Without hesitation, she steps closer, closing the already small distance between you. Her body presses softly against yours, her movements slower, more deliberate, the intimacy cranked up just enough to make your pulse quicken.

“She an ex?” Sofia whispers, her breath warm against your ear. The words come out smooth, sultry—designed to sound just loud enough for you to hear.

“No,” you reply, your voice catching slightly. “We’re just... friends?”

Sofia throws her head back, laughing dramatically, the sound exaggerated and almost theatrical. It’s over the top, no doubt meant to draw attention. Jenna’s attention. You’re sure she’s watching now, though you don’t dare look back. Instead, you commit fully to the bit, letting the drinks loosen your inhibitions. The music thrums in your chest, your body moving like the college kid you are—reckless, carefree, and untethered.

For the first time tonight, you let yourself stop thinking. You dance like no one’s watching—though deep down, you know someone is.

————

Hunter, Aliyah, and Markus watched the scene unfold like an audience to the world’s most chaotic soap opera. Their expressions ranged from shock to amusement, with Hunter’s jaw practically on the floor.

“What the fuck did I miss?” he asked, eyes darting between you and your dance partner and Jenna and hers.

“I told Jenna to make Y/n jealous,” Aliyah admitted, her voice tinged with guilt. “And now Y/n is retaliating.”

Hunter let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “This is so not like Y/n, but I kinda like it. That girl is cute.”

Aliyah shot him a sharp glare. “Excuse me? Aren’t we rooting for Jenna and Y/n?”

Hunter snickered. “We are, but relax. This is just the pre-show. They’ll have makeup sex and get over it.”

Aliyah groaned, rolling her eyes. “Seriously? Makeup sex? They—"

Hunter smirked. “Yeah, makeup sex. You know, when they—”

Markus laughs at Hunter’s response.

“I know what it is, weirdo,” Aliyah snapped. “But they’re not there yet. They haven’t even admitted they like each other yet! They need to stop being stubborn and actually talk!”

Hunter leaned back, crossing his arms confidently. “It’ll happen. Look at them—they’re both trying to make each other jealous. This is just foreplay. They’ll be fine as long as neither of them crosses the line. Dancing? Fine. Kissing? That could screw everything up.”

Their attention snapped back to the dance floor as Jenna, spotting you with Sofia, retaliated. She moved even closer to her partner, her hands trailing over his shoulders, their movements far more intimate now.

“Oh no,” Aliyah muttered.

“Oh yes,” Hunter said, grinning. “Now it’s getting good.”

The group leaned forward, watching as you noticed Jenna’s escalation. Without missing a beat, you responded. Sofia seemed to catch on quickly, her body now pressed firmly against yours as you matched Jenna’s energy. The two of you danced as if the rest of the world had disappeared, exchanging subtle glances that grew bolder with every passing moment.

It was a game of one-upmanship now. Jenna would sway closer to her partner, and you’d mirror her, pulling Sofia even closer. Jenna’s hands would glide down her partner’s arms, and Sofia would follow suit with you. Back and forth it went, escalating with each move, the tension between you and Jenna palpable even from across the room.

“Holy shit,” Hunter muttered, his grin widening. “They’re not even pretending anymore.”

“They’re literally staring each other down,” Markus added, incredulous.

It was true. Neither of you was hiding the fact that this was all about the other. Your eyes locked with Jenna’s, an unspoken challenge passing between you as your bodies moved in sync with your respective partners. The music thumped, the crowd blurred, but all that mattered was who would break first.

Sofia's hands slid up your arms and found their way to your shoulders as you danced, her movements effortlessly in sync with yours. Her body pressed closer, her breath warm against your neck, and her fingers trailed lightly down your chest to your exposed abs, pausing there just long enough to send a shiver through you.

You felt her touch, soft but deliberate, and couldn't help but glance over your shoulder.

Jenna was watching.

Her gaze wasn't subtle—it lingered, her lips tightening as her eyes followed Sofia's hands on you. The guy she was dancing with had his hands on her waist, pulling her closer, but Jenna's attention wasn't on him at all. It was on you, her expression a mix of irritation and something else you couldn't quite place.

Then, suddenly, you froze. Breaking away from Sofia.

“What’s happening?” Aliyah whispered, her voice tight with worry.

The trio followed your gaze back to Jenna. She was standing on her tiptoes, leaning in toward her partner, her face inches from his. Her lips parted slightly, as if she were about to—

“Oh no,” Aliyah breathed, clutching Markus’s arm.

The three of them stared, holding their breath, as the moment stretched into eternity.

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