#i don't watch the show but my friend just told me about this..... what in god's name

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 9 - Death

summary : maybe it is time for reader to move on from patterns that are now useless and reconsider things

content warnings : some angst, then some comfort, then more angst, then more comfort, some crude language an mentions of harassment

word count : 6.1k

author's note : okay i think i might write my old bg3 requests still sitting in my inbox after this but!!!! im excited to write the next chap

proofread by the lovely @yaffles-world <3

masterlist : here

taglist : @doctorho @6selkie @yunloyal @kryscent @hypocritic-trash-baby @kapitankarate @a-lovers-card @ababanerb @lolixsstuff @forget-me-not-my-dear @smolanchovy @shugar0cone0alt @harrys--ferret-blog @suuummerrr @stillinracooncity @noxturnalmoth @dlbitch @cloufire @csolya @kathyholdsagrudge @furblrwurblr @potatointhedirt @atrocioushaircut @ren-ni @schrodingersraven @urmommt

You had spent your Saturday recovering, not without frustration. It was a waste of time, you thought. You could have taken advantage of a day without any classes or work like that to study and make more progress, but Selene had come to visit you, worried.

She officially met Sky, who had always admired her since her first lessons with her. Selene had come to your bedside, placing a gentle hand on your forehead for a moment, then letting it slide down to your warm cheek. She sighed, familiar with your overworking habits.

She asked Sky about your night, about the prescribed treatment, and Selene couldn't help but exchange a knowing glance with you when Viktor was mentioned, especially for such chivalrous deeds. She smiled a playful ‘see, I told you so’ which made you pull your cover over your head in annoyance.

When she left, Sky came back to you, bringing you a chicken broth to restore your health, which she hoped you'd consume to the last drop.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this and calling them, calling him. But..." She sighed, watching you finally eat something with relief. "You were working yourself to death, and with such a pace, you probably wouldn't have been able to pass the exams at all if you'd kept going."

You swallowed your mouthful with difficulty, a small knot of shame and regret tightening it. You'd been so obsessed, so fixated on outdoing yourself and winning back your number one spot from Viktor that you'd become nothing more than an information-gobbling machine.

You didn't even need it, you'd just decided to get ahead on the next year's syllabus in the hope of impressing in the papers and showing your dedication. How could you be so stupid? 

"Your state was deteriorating visibly..." Sky reflected, looking down at her hands before only meeting your gaze for a moment. "You really scared me, you know."

Your heart split in two. You placed your lunch tray on your bedside table, taking Sky's hands in yours and seeking her gaze despite her bowed head.

"Hey," you murmured in your tired voice as you smiled softly at her when she looked back at you. "You did the right thing, Sky. Without you..." you sighed, thinking back on your stupidity, "I don't know where I'd be right now. This was going to eat me alive until there would be nothing left of me but a white chalk outline on my desk."

She smiled softly, squeezing your hands. Her eyes glistened, her chin trembling slightly as she took off her glasses.

"Oh, Sky..." You pulled her into your arms, holding her close. "I'm sorry."

You couldn't imagine how tired she must have been, seeing you wasting away like that, not listening to her, not hearing her. She had her own revisions, her own things to do, and you had made your problem hers.

You could feel her forehead wrinkling, her hands trembling slightly around you as she twitched.

Since when did you become such an important part of someone's life that they cared that much about you?

What would have happened if, for one more year, you'd never had a flatmate? And if that flatmate hadn't been Sky, would she have had even an ounce of patience like your friend?

You'd fucked up and nearly gone off the deep end, and Sky had done everything she could to avoid it.

"I promise you to never do that again," you vowed, pulling away from her to run your thumb over her cheek and wipe away the tears. "Please, don't cry on me. Cry on... I don't know, Heimerdinger's hairstylist."

Don't cry for me, I'm not worth a waste of tears, not yours.

She laughed nervously, her eyes going to the ceiling. "I don't know why I'm crying, really, this is..." she sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, "this is stupid."

"No, it's not," you smiled, "It's good to cry."

She raised her eyebrows, wiggling her nose and shrugging. "Well, you never do."

"That's because I sold my lacrimal glands," you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood by joking.

And it worked - she laughed, the sadness slowly evaporating from her face. "So you have no tears, but you still have your heart, right ?"

You closed your fist, banging it against your chest. "It's a dusty engine, but it does its work."

"Well," she stood up, "I hope it can still feel something."

You observed her for a moment, picking up a saucepan and filling it with water. No doubt to make coffee, or at least tea to ward off your addiction and prevent your mechanical heart from overheating under the caffeine. No amount of Piltovian gold could offer you anything like Sky's sweetness.

"My heart's full of room for the very few friends I have." You picked up your bowl of broth again, its warmth cupped against your fingers. "Its aorta is named after you."

She turned to you, smiling, her eyes filling again with tears as she breathed in. 

"You can't just say things like that and not expect me to ruin a box of these," she described movements in the air with her hands in ridiculous, exagerated swirls, "silk-soft tissues they have here."

"Their toilet paper is so thick and soft it feels like we're using pillows," you sneered before blowing on the bouillon.

"Right?!" Sky exclaimed, "It's only been like, a month and a half since I've been here and it all feels so fancy. Everything is so... clean."

"I know!" You laughed, "It's infuriating. The streets barely have a scratch, the buildings have colours straight out of a kid's colouring book, and they have trees."

She sighed, visualising the vegetation the city had before her eyes fell back on yours. "You never get used to it, right?"

You swallowed your mouthful of broth, pressing your lips into a thin line. "Never."

She leaned back against the worktop, watching you for a moment. "Seriously though." She tilted her head to one side. "Don't ever do that again."

You smiled, bringing your forefinger and thumb to your ear and pressing on the lobe. 

It was a custom in Zaun to pledge your word. In the Undercity, you pressed your lobe as if you were piercing it, to imaginatively seal in the skin a ring other than the one on your finger. However, everyone knows that if you pull too hard on a piercing, you can tear the flesh, and find it difficult to retie the skin so that it can be pierced again. So the promise was made with a symbolic ring, anchored in the skin, that the promise would be kept.

"May my flesh tear apart if, by misfortune, I betrayed," you recited.

During the rest of the last week of classes before the exams, you resumed a much more normal revision routine than the original, much to Sky's delight. You'd revise with her in the afternoons outside class, asking each other questions about the subjects you shared while you were trying not to die laughing from the stupid ways you looked with your facemasks during skincare time.

When Friday came around, you decided to go to the library again. Unconsciously, it had become a ritual. With Viktor or without, you intended to surround yourself with knowledge as immense as possible.

You went and sat down at a table, alone, while many students who had come for the same reason were already crowding most of the available ones. You took out your things, rereading your index cards for the umpteenth time until you were almost ready to recite them by heart if the need arose.

You couldn't help but lose concentration when you heard your name spoken in the distance, coming from voices that weren’t familiar to you, further behind your back.

"And to say Viktor got put with her on Heimerdinger's subject," one said, chuckling.

"I wonder which of them pulls their hair out more in each other's company."

You tried not to think about it, but since, for once, the conversation wasn't all about the walking street lamp, you couldn't help but let your ears hang close to their mouths.

"Did you see her the other day? A vision of the apocalypse. Hollow cheeks and dead eyes like she hadn't eaten in a month."

"Gotta have hollow cheeks to suck the teachers better," her classmate sneered.

Your jaw tightened, trying to ignore their remarks. This wasn't your first time hearing such things - the previous two years hadn't been as gentle as this one, even if Viktor had caused a few problems with his arrival.

"Can you believe what she did to Tyler?"

"She's an animal." They both laughed, causing you to sink back into your chair.

"How do you think Viktor handles her?"

"He doesn't, she's just a handicap to him and he seems to have an embarrassing enough one as it is."

You inhaled. Someone will probably tell them to be quiet so as not to disturb the peace of the library. You hoped.

"Who's a handicap?"

Your eyes widened as you suddenly turned around. Viktor was standing there, facing them, both students suddenly looking very confused and ashamed.

"Viktor," one of them laughed nervously, "this was just a joke, she..."

But the student didn't have time to come up with an excuse. Viktor raised an eyebrow before speaking.

"She's an incredible person who no one can defeat," he informed them, the latter two lowering their eyes on their notes suddenly invested in their revisions. "Except me."

He punctuated his sentence, turning away from them and meeting your gaze. He seemed surprised, not expecting to find you there, at least not doing nothing when such needlessly cruel nonsense was uttered in your name.

Inevitably, of course, he moved towards you.

Except me.  The phrase made you roll your eyes for a moment before you tried to read information from your notes that hadn't needed reading for a long time. 

He sat down opposite you, keeping his hand on the pommel of his cane. "Your name seems to be on everyone's lips, Miss."

"What can I say," you sighed, "the obsession they have for me is an undying addiction."

However, Viktor didn't seem amused at all.

"Why do you let them say such things about you without lifting a finger?"

You bit the inside of your lip, feeling the pressure of his gaze on you as your eyes scanned uselessly over your revision sheets. 

"It's not the first time I've heard that kind of comment about me," you confirmed without much interest, "I'll survive it."

"So you spend most of your time worrying about the injustices other people experience but you push your own under a doormat?" Viktor summed up, not seeming genuinely thrilled at the idea.

"If I could push the injustice that Tyler is by his very existence off the face of this world, I'd be stepping on some rich blonde aristocrat every time I left and returned from home."

But Viktor still wasn't laughing, far from it. When your eyes finally met his, they were dark.

He sighed. "Are you trying to punish yourself for something by neglecting yourself so much?"

I'd like to forget more than anything else in the world. The thought was taking over your soul, eating away at you like a gangrene with an insatiable hunger.

"Of course," you chuckled, exaggerating a falsely happy tone.

"Stop this." His tone was firm.

"Stop what?" you questioned.

"Trying to make something funny out of this."

You frowned, raising an eyebrow. "What? You're not feeling in the mood for our ritual chit chats?"

"Do I look like I'm joking around right now?"

His eyes had the same gleam, carried the same weight as when he'd held you in place in your bed just a week ago. You almost gulped, speechless. Why was he reacting like that? Why was he worried about you?

You lowered your eyes, licking your lips as you returned to your notes.

"Fine," you admitted, dropping your sarcastic tone. "I guess I owe you for saving my life, anyway."

It didn't sound like it, but it was probably the closest you'd come to a ‘thank you’ for him so far. He seemed surprised that you were finally cooperating in the conversation, that you were at last sending him a very subliminal magic word.

His shoulders slumped, as if the idea of being angry with you was stupid.

"How are you feeling?" He finally asked.

"I'm no longer sick, if that's the question you meant to ask."

"It was, but also," he brought his cane up between his legs, clasping both hands on the pommel as he came to rest his chin on it, "I just wanted to know how you are doing."

Why are you doing this? You were thinking back over the last few weeks. His questions during the power cut, the attention he'd paid to you, staying awake all night by your side to make sure you were taking your medication properly, and now...

"Well," you swallowed, these thoughts unsettling you for a moment and sending a foreign warmth into your belly, "the exams are approaching and I think you've had quite the close look on their effect on me so... yeah."

He considered you, tilting his head to the side until his cheek was the one pressed against the back of his hands. He scanned you, his gaze sending a warm wind up your spine.

"You're still on the treatment, right?"

The horrible powder you had to mix in a glass at least twice a day wasn't the moment you were looking forward to most in your daily routine, but you did it anyway, under Sky's sharp eyes.

You remained silent, just to see how Viktor would react and whether, as he had dictated, he would make sure you stayed in bed no matter what.

Faced with your silence, he raised an eyebrow as he straightened up, finally wrinkling his forehead as he frowned.

"Right?" he repeated, almost menacingly.

"Relax." A nervous chuckle escaped you. "Yes, I'm taking it."

He sighed in relief at the news, while you shook your head in confusion.

"You're putting all this effort... for me? Why"

The phrase sounded alien in your mouth, as if you weren't worth the time or energy of such dedication. He gazed at you for a moment, his eyes roving over your index cards.

"You know why."

"Because you can't have your best rival go against you while she's sick?" you recited.

"Because I don't want to be your rival."

You found this answer profoundly absurd.

"What do you mean-" But he cut you off, annoyed.

"What do you want, hmm? To become Heimerdinger's assistant?"

Of course, you thought, but the way Viktor had said it sounded... easy, too easy. Or at least, too easy for you.

"I don't intend to be his assistant, and I'm going to tell you why."

He stood up, walking around the table until he was beside you and leaning in slightly.

"Because I've already been his assistant, and I stopped."

The words echoed inside you, like the cracking of something you thought was indestructible. Your lips parted in shock, watching him with huge eyes as he straightened up.

"In any case. I wanted to make sure that you'd be back in good shape." He began to walk towards the library exit, turning one last time to give you a playful look. "And now that I'm sure you'll be in full shape, I know I don't need to hold back, hm, rival?"

He turned away, heading for the big door, leaving you with a short-circuited brain. What did he mean by "already been"? What did he mean he had stopped? How had Viktor ever been Heimerdinger's assistant?

When the sentence finally reached your mind after a long travel from your ears, you gathered your things in a flash as the questions began to fly and you almost ran to catch up with him. You caught up with him in the corridors, under the astonished gazes of all the students.

"What?" you asked, out of breath from the sudden exertion and the gust of wind the news had knocked from your chest.

He turned to you, slightly surprised that you'd practically chased after him. He'd probably expected you to sit at your table, mulling things over until the questions got too much for you and you decided to come and see him after a day or two of mental torment.

"You've been Heimerdinger's assistant?" you repeated, adjusting the strap of your satchel on your shoulder.

He shrugged, turning away from you. "Yes."

Was he really just going to leave like that? Leaving you in agony for answers you wanted more than anything? No, it wasn't going to be like that.

You grabbed his wrist, much to his surprise, and pulled him with you into an empty adjoining corridor. Once you were out of sight, checking from one end of the corridor to the other to see if anyone was there, you finally regained his gaze.

There was something in his eyes, like a hint of something that kept his lips parted until they closed and his eyes lowered to your hand still gripping his wrist.

You let go, the heat of shame spreading across your neck and cheeks for a moment as you took a step away, crossing your arms over your chest.

"When were you his assistant?"

He leaned against the wall, sighing as he stared at you.

"You do remember Jayce's trial, don't you?"

How could you forget? You hadn't been present at the trial. Selene had invited you to come as it concerned your friend, but you were too afraid of the aristocratic eyes and the pressure they would put on you.

The story remained vague. Due to special circumstances that remained under the security and secrecy of the administration as to the extent of Jayce's activities, he had been allowed to stay at the academy.

"Yes."

"By then, I had already been Heimerdinger’s assistant for a month.."

You now were certain you'd never seen him before. It was just one month into your summer holidays, and you had gone to Zaun to find Eris. Your chances of running into him were almost nil, no doubt about it.

"How did you get to become his assistant?" you quizzed.

He shrugged, and that simple movement made you want to scream. "I suppose he must have liked my assiduity enough to take me on. That and the fact that, with his little legs, I was bound to walk at his pace," he joked.

You held your breath in your lungs for a moment, before releasing it. He didn't seem to be lying, at least about the only serious part of his sentence. He was undoubtedly the best choice for Heimerdinger in any case.

However, it seemed to you that it wasn't so much exasperation that you were feeling - you were trying to understand what the feeling was... a relief, but not really about the fact that the assistant's place was free, no, a relief about Viktor that you couldn't really place at the moment.

"Why did you stop?" There was no longer any frustration in your voice, just a new-found curiosity.

Viktor seemed taken aback by your new intonation, straightening slightly against the wall. "It didn't interest me anymore."

What could he have found that was better? The thought, at last, that Viktor's aim was not to be an assistant for the rest of his life, crept into your mind. Viktor seemed to pick up on it.

"See? I told you we didn't have the same goal."

You finally realised what that feeling of relief was: you didn't have to hate him any more. You no longer had a reason to try to outdo him, no longer had a valid justification for becoming number one again. But why was it such a relief? There was rarely anything more gratuitous than hatred in what you knew, and it should have been the same for Viktor, so why was it such a relief not to have to hate him any more?

Hating him served no purpose, no motivation. It was useless, and what do you do with useless things?

You took half a step towards him.

"The truce you suggested, have you come up with any clauses?"

His eyebrows rose, his eyes widened. He lifted himself off the wall.

"Um no-" he began, but you cut him off.

"Find some, and I'll consider them."

And with that, you took off, leaving Viktor speechless. 

You moved quickly, trying to get home as fast as possible. You were afraid that the street air, so pure and fresh, would wash away your conclusions and fuel a hatred that no longer had any reason to exist.

But you didn't go home straight away, making a diversion to Emeline's shop. As soon as you entered her shop, she didn't hesitate to jump on your neck and give you a hug.

"My little lamb," she enthused as she squeezed you until your ribs broke before cupping your face as if to examine you, "are you feeling better? You gave me quite a fright, you know! When your friend came to visit me and told me you were ill I nearly closed up shop to come and see you myself."

"Everything's fine," you laughed, squeezing her arms, "I've almost completely recovered!"

You'd decided that, after your chat with Viktor and all the effort you'd put into your revision, you deserved a little something to comfort you.

After a little chat with Emeline, she packed two pastries, one for you and one for Sky. Of course, she didn't forget to fill you up with an extra small packet of sweets that would have gone unsold during the day.

When you returned home, you greeted Sky with a smile and raised the two bags of treats to your head. She smiled in surprise.

"To what do we owe this feast?" she asked.

You shrugged. "Let's just say I've made resolutions for the better."

You'd been laughing all evening, stuffing your faces with these delicacies as you both took a well-deserved break from studying.

Your eyes turned to your tarot deck, you'd forgotten to draw any cards lately due to your revisions, so after wiping your hands full of sugar, you took the pack in hand.

“I see you pulling one almost every morning,” Sky remarked, lying on her stomach on your bed while you were cross-legged. “Why do you do that?”

You pulled out your cards in your hands. “To have a leitmotif to follow during the day. Although to be quite honest I don't follow their advice every time.”

She laughed softly, knowing by now your stubbornness like no other. “That doesn't surprise me at all.”

“Yeah well,” you smiled in turn as you shuffled the cards, ”some of them are not the best cards to wake up on to in the morning.”

So you cut your deck as usual, and looked at its underside. You raised your eyebrows.

“Just like this one.”

You showed Sky the card: Death.

She winced, her eyebrows furrowing as her mouth formed as if she were pronouncing the letter x.

“Okay, I get it,” she said, shaking her head. “Is it literal? I hope not, right?”

“Nah it's pretty safe.” You laughed. “The description of its meaning is in the little booklet.” You pointed to it with your chin, and Sky grabbed it, flipping through until she found the Death page.

“Transition. Underworld. Flux. Occultism. Letting go. Evolution requiring liberation. Metaphorical death.” She read. “Off to a great start apparently.”

You chuckled, observing the card as she continued reading. “Death moves across a field with a slow, steady march. A king lies dead. He represents the old systems of order cast aside. A bishop begs for mercy, a young girl turns away in fear and only a curious little girl looks up to greet death. She has not been taught to fear it.”

Your thumb passed over the little girl's drawing, your heart clenching. 

“A ship sails away, heedless of death's march. A sun rises between two towers to reflect resurrection and new beginnings. All endings give way to new possibilities. Transformation leads to renewal and growth.” She raised her eyebrows. “Ain't as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Yeah,” you considered, thinking back on your day and the fact that the cards were pointing you in the right direction, ”indeed.”

Exam week was over. You'd had absolutely no trouble at all with any of the exercises. All the subjects were in the bag and you were finishing virtually ahead of schedule in every exam room.

Today was the day of results. The teachers had spent the weekend correcting everything, and the results boards had finally been displayed.

You woke up feeling lighter than you thought you would. Since realizing that there was no longer any point in chasing Viktor to victory, you'd relaxed.

You went down the hall with Sky, passing the student mailboxes for a moment so you could check if either of you had received anything.

You opened the metal door to a single letter, sealed with a metallic black wax seal you knew all too well: Eris.

You took the key to your apartment, using its teeth to open the envelope and take out the letter, which you brought to your nose.

Her letters always smelled of the essential oils and herbs that constantly appeased you. Without further ado, you unfolded the paper and read its contents.

My sweet friend,

I thought you were a lost cause in friendship, but I guess this year the wheel is really turning on your side. I'm delighted, and I imagine the same goes for Selene. I'd love to meet her, that Sky, she sounds absolutely charming. I'm guessing, though, that the day with your Five of Wands must have been no picnic, especially if - from what I understand - Emperor Viktor is to blame. But I'm sure that the Immeasurable Grandeur of the Prestigious Piltover Academy will crown your success.

You giggled to yourself as your eyes passed over the elegant, forced curves that Eris had taken care to add in response to your own inky bows.

I miss you so much. You know how the days are here in Zaun; I open, sell and consult, and close in the evening before any trouble starts. I'm paid with golden trinkets, new flowers to dry and other plants from other regions. I have managed to get some new customers, though, and not the least important ones. Renata Glasc herself has been to my shop.

You'd already heard of Renata Glasc, an ambitious woman who was growing in influence on the streets of Zaun. She wasn't a Chem Baroness, but at the rate she was going, it looked like she was well on her way to becoming one.

In fact, it's through her that I'm hearing about worrying things here. Common for Zaun, you may say, but I can't help thinking the worst. I'll tell you about it myself when we meet. I'm planning to come here around December 23, so let's meet at the usual bridge at three o'clock. I'll be staying with you for a few days. I can't tell you more. But I've lit a candle for you, wishing you success and good health.

I look forward to seeing you again, my dearest trouble,

Eris.

What could she possibly be worried about? The situation was invariably complicated in Zaun, but what could it be that she was worried about?

You carefully tucked the letter into your bag, heading out to the shuttle stop.

“Not too stressed?” Sky asked.

You huffed, a cloud of warmth rising into the air. The cold had been gaining in intensity for over a week, and all the students at the academy had donned their scarves.

“No.” you replied, confident. “You?”

“A bit,” she admitted, her breath trembling slightly.

“Hey,” you pressed your shoulder against hers as she turned to face you, ”you've got this. I know you do.”

She nodded, smiling at you as the shuttle arrived. The journey was swift, some students over-excited at the prospect of their results, others apprehensive about what was to come.

As you arrived at the golden gates of the academy, you noticed that neither Viktor nor Jayce were in sight. Perhaps they had decided to go to the academy later?

The group of students walked up to the scoreboards, an army of others already huddled in front of them.

Sky went in search of her name, while you breathed in, waiting for other students to pass before you.

You didn't know what awaited you at the top of the board, which name would be at the head. Did it still matter? Yes, it probably did, or it didn't. Did you want it to matter? Probably not. But did your mind keep wandering? Endlessly.

What if Viktor was still number one - would you be disappointed? What if you were number one - would you be satisfied? And if neither he nor you were number one, would you be revolted?

“Look who it is!”

That voice alone was enough to make you frown, raise your eyebrows and lower your eyelids in boredom.

Tyler.

You turned to him for a moment, him seeming pleased that you responded to his voice as you rolled your eyes and sighed.

“What do you want, blondie? Searching for a new name on the boards to torment?”

He chuckled, stepping toward you. “You don't change a winning team, darling. Have you found your place at the very bottom of the ranking?”

It was your turn to chuckle, turning to face him. He had no idea about your academic results, it seemed. 

“Tyler you have as many neurons as you have eyes, and they're both fighting for any kind of connection.” You turned to the bulletin board, stepping forward slightly. “Do them mercy and close your eyelids for all eternity before we have to deal with a rain of fire and the horsemen and...”

But you didn't even finish your sentence, the words dying on your lips as your eyes came to rest on your name.

First place.

You were back in first place. Eyes and mouth wide open, you kept blinking to make sure your vision wasn't failing you. And the name underneath... 

Viktor.

Your scores were almost equal, yours barely beating him.

“Told you I wasn't going to hold back.”

You turned towards the voice, the tinkle you now knew too well of his cane echoing on the floor. He stood there, serene, a small smile on his face before his lips pressed into an inverted grin and his eyebrows raised.

“You fight well, Miss.”

You couldn't help it - you cracked a smile at him. And Viktor seemed astonished, as if he'd never seen such a thing happen. No stupid remark, no pettiness behind your drawn lips, just sincere amusement and joy.

“What the...” Tyler's voice died in his throat as he took in the bulletin boards, turning to you. “How did you...”

You turned to him, his sole presence now not even enough to ruin your happiness and relief. “As if you could reach me,” you replied with a triumphant smile, walking out of the crowd to join Viktor.

Once you got away from all this tumult, he nodded. “You got first,” he remarked, “congratulations.”

You observed him for a second, his posture reflecting a sort of disappointment. Was it from losing? Or was it from the fact you seemed so happy in your rivalry with him? You sighed, rolling your eyes.

“Quit it,” you pronounced with a smile, shaking your head slightly. “We share this crown, and you perfectly know that.”

He said nothing, just gazing at you for a moment. There was this gleam, the tickling of a smile ready to be born on his lips as the satisfaction that, maybe, these ink duels you were both fencing would wash away and let something different be born from them. 

He was apprehensive about saying something, but Jayce came towards you both.

“Ah, Jayce, exams went well?” You asked, knowing without a doubt that he didn't have to worry about his results.

“Oh yeah, perfect.” He nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line, his eyes darting from yours to Viktor's, surprised that you weren't quarrelling. “Say, hum... can I talk to you guys for a minute?” 

Viktor and you exchanged a confused look, before ultimately following him.

“A masquerade?” you repeated, as if the word had never grazed your lips before.

Jayce had brought you to a room in the Academy where you could all talk without hearing the multiple cries of students as to their result. And considering what he had to discuss with you, he'd done the right thing.

“It's this thing Mel is invited to,” he explained nervously. “All the people of high aristocracy will be there, counselors, lords and ladies... Please, can you both accompany me to it?”

“As your dance partners?” joked Viktor, frowning.

“No, Mel's already my partner. But, she said that there would be no opposition for you both to come as well. You're the,” he seemed to search for words for a moment, ”croom dé la cram?”

“Crême de la crême?” you suggested.

He pointed at you, glad you understood. “Yeah, that. La crême de la crême of the Academy. Such prestigious students as the both of you sharing the top of the board deserve to be in such an event.”

“So you want us,” you pointed repeatedly between Viktor and yourself, ”to come to this event because you're too nervous to go there by yourself?”

The interested party scratched the back of his neck, sniffling before looking at you both with puppy-dog eyes. “Yeah?”

“Aren't you supposed to have a partner to come to a masquerade?” Interrogated Viktor.

“I thought you two could... go together?”

You chuckled, your mouth hanging open. You exchanged a bewildered look with Viktor, who didn't seem to be too upset by the concept.

“You're joking, right?” you asked.

“Please just-” he didn't finish his sentence, “put your bickering aside for one evening. You don't even have to show up together if it suits you better.”

“I don't see any problems with it,” Viktor shrugged, indifferent. “When is it?”

"Tomorrow night."

“Tomorrow night?” You exclaimed. “Jayce, if it's a society gala, I've got nothing to wear.”

He reached into his own wallet, pulled out some bills and handed them to you.

“Here, I'm sure you'll find something convenient with this.”

“Jayce,” you remarked, looking at the fresh bills, “what the hell.”

“This is not much for you to get a decent gown for the gala. Keep the rest, if there is any, to get some fancy accessories.” He grabbed your hand, placing the cash in it. “Truly, this is the least I can do.”

You knew Jayce's patrons were the Kiramman’s, but to have money to give away like this? Since when was that the case?

“Vik, I think it's time for us to go.” Jayce finally remarked before leaving the room, leaving the two of you.

You both stayed in silence for a moment, both digesting the information that had just been given to you.

“What a way to celebrate your victory,” Viktor finally sighed.

“I've seen worse celebrations than a masquerade,” you remarked, observing the tickets for a moment before folding them up, “but I think I've had better experiences than being in a room with nobility sipping glasses of champagne with petty innuendo in every exchange.”

He huffed in turn. “I suppose the next area in which we must excel in no time is the art of conversation in high society. Although, considering our usual conversation,” he leaned his head to the side with a smirk, "we'll fit right in."

“How exciting,” you raised your eyebrows sarcastically, letting silence take its rule back on the room before you finally decided to break it. ”Guess I better go and find myself something to wear. See you tomorrow, Viktor.” 

“Wait,” he called to you, seeming hesitant about what he was going to suggest, ”would you like us to get together first and go? Or...”

“Let's meet directly at the party,” you assured him.

He nodded, his lips pressing in a thin line as you turned away. “Oh and...” you turned back to him at his words, his eyes piercing. “Don't forget the mask.”

You nodded, leaving the room.

You had today and tomorrow to find an outfit, and get used to the fact that Viktor was no longer a threat to be eliminated. Easier said than done. 

But still… What a way to celebrate a rebirth.

✦﹒ previous chapter ✦﹒ next chapter

[holnnetd]

No rejection under my roof

Tbh, I saw a silly little tiktok and I was like, damn. Me too. So anyway, I'm projecting (it fucking took me ChatGPT to figure out what that word was again) and I truly believe the men are just like that.

So have some silly headcanons:

(I haven't proofread it yet, so sorry for everyone reading this!)

This is only fiction, please remember.

Jonathan Price is... oddly okay with it. You need to work on your career you say? He's sure he could pull some strings. Well, only if you go out with him to that new coffee shop down town. Just to discuss the opportunities of your future. Of course. He's pretty sure he'd look great with a successful lad next to him. He'd show you off, proudly telling that you don't only look godly and make the best spaghetti, but you're also a badass that's hardworking.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick smiles as you deny him, telling you that it's fine and he understands. Until he shows up to your family home one day, chatting up your relatives like they are old friends? You smile kindly, confused as to why he's here and you just hear your family say what a nice boy he is and that he helped them carry groceries one day. Even helped them cook that dish they'd only eat for special occasions. Really, what s weird coincidence. Oh and they want you guys to know eachother? Maybe date? Huh... Really suspicious.

Simon "Ghost" Riley would stand stumped before you, feeling slightly confused and embarrassed at being rejected. Why would you... Reject him? He can't go back to the team after they told him to go for it. He'd stare at you in silence, believing you straight up just didn't hear him. So with a gruff expression he asks again, "would you want to date me?", just to make sure you hear him right.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish is absolutely convinced that "I'm freshly after a break up" means "Please make me forget about him" and he takes it as his personal challenge. Without knowing the reason of Saud breakup, he will blame to ex, saying that he should have watched out better for such a beautiful lad like yourself! What batter way to get on your annoying, bad ex then to send him a video of you getting absolutely fucked into next week by a bigger dick then he could have hoped to have? Really, that would crash anyone's ego.

Alejandro Vargas would be pretty persistent. He's a man of passion and I cannot accentuate it enough, but he would do so much for anyone he likes. He knows that maybe he's about to destroy a 7 year friendship with you, but he really can't stop himself from physically kissing up your hands to pepper your pretty, pretty face with every bit of love. You're precious! Please let him shower you with his love. He might start showing up at your house every day if you don't!

Rodolfo Parra listens carefully as you tell him that you have too much on your plate right now to accept. Really it's too much. And he just smiles awkwardly, handing you the bouquet, "we can eat together if it's that much. Two heads is more then one" he says and if you're not swooned, you don't deserve him. He is by your side to help you out with any problem you might have. Too much to chew? Well, only metaphorically speaking, give some to him. (Please don't literally, I swear it's just a metaphor) There is nothing he can't handle with a little bit of stubbornes and persuasion.

Valeria Garza wouldn't take it to heart. She understands being in any shape of form tied to the mafia has huge risks and maybe not everyone's preference, but she stays open for you to come back. Talking you that she will always help out if there is a problem. And problems did came surely. Someone framed you for stealing? The cops were being awfully rude, gave you a speeding ticket and then someone broke into your house? Bad luck, huh? You can't stay in your house after it being demolished, but you really don't want to risk your family with had luck. So the only way out is to grab the hand and become a mafia bosses spouse. Don't worry, she made sure no one else dared to touch you anymore.

Philip Graves wouldn't take no for an answer. No matter your argument. You have a boyfriend? Doesn't matter, dump him. Philip is better. He has money, a charming smile, even more money, and lawyers that could sweep one dead body under the rug. Maybe 3, if you are as stubborn as he is. But when there is no man in your life? Oh, he's so guilt tripping you with his money into dating. He brought you so many gifts, how can you say no while there is a fresh bouquet of flowers in front of your door with a box of jewellery with his initials somewhere engraved on them?

Farrah Karim. Nah, just why would you reject her, really? Don't. No one would. She's sweet.

Alex Keller doesn't understand what you mean. You see him as family? Good, he's a family man! It sounds to him like you want a family with him, and hell who is he to deny his beautiful girlfriend a family. You want a kid? Sure! You don't want one? You two can settle with a dog for the time being, really. He's an open guy, not really wanting to accept denial. It's not really denial at this point. Family loves eachother! So you two have to do that too. And maybe love eachother in bed.

Vladimir Makarov wouldn't even ask to be dating. He'd send not so vague threats and straight up demand of you to be his spouse. You were kidnapped and threatened with a gun to your head to marry him. Yeah. That's... How it went. Very romantic. It's either a, you die now or you die later with me. And hopefully not being stupid you'd rather live with a terrorist for a while, not having to worry about working until you two die. Maybe separately, maybe if you stay loyal and nice to him he will hold you while either of you dies. That's the most romance you will get from this power driven man.

Now come the fake ahh characters that I especially love:

"König" (of course) would be devastated to hear that you cannot date someone like him. Why is that? Is it the amount of dead bodies he had touched with his hands?? He will wear gloves whenever touching you, of course! Maybe it's because of the scars on his body? Don't worry, he will get tattoos over them so you don't have to see any! Maybe it's how he looks??? He swears he will shave his arms and legs and cut his hair- No! It's because if his height, right Schatz? He's to tall, of course... Well don't worry your head, he doesn't mind staying on his knees. Actually he's quite fond to stay there, as long as your legs are on his shoulders and he gets to press his lips into your flesh. Poor overthinking puppy.

Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin is looking at you with a raised brow as you tell him you can't stand him. Well then sit down. He drags a chair over to you, forcing you to sit down on it. You will sit, until you can stand him again. And then you will go on a date. Tired of him? Take a nap, it's not that deep. Hell, maybe a good cuddle session in his bed is what you need! He will drag you to his bed, in uniform or not, force you to lay down before plopping on top of you, making sure you're not tired anymore. Tsk, escaping from the tiger? Please.

[allthingsfangirl101]

Bother Me – Glen Powell

I knocked on his door and nervously waited. I shook my head when I realized I was always doing this. Whenever something goes wrong or needs fixing in my apartment, I go to my neighbor, Glen Powell.

Back when I first moved in next door to Glen, he wasn't a big actor yet. He'd had smaller roles but nothing that made him noticed. We became friends in the laundry room when I asked to borrow one of his dryer sheets. We ran into each other a week later and I gave him a dryer sheet to pay him back. We quickly found that we always do laundry on the same night.

"Hey, Y/N," Glen smiled as he opened his door. "What's up?"

"Sorry to bother you," I sighed, "but I was wondering if you could help me with something."

"Anything."

"One of the light bulbs in my fan is out and I can't get the cover off," I explained.

"Easy," he smiled. He left his apartment and followed me back to my apartment. I showed him what fan I was talking about and watched as he removed the cover, changed the light bulb, and put the cover back on.

"Thanks for doing this, Glen," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "I swear I'm not as helpless as I come off."

"You're not helpless," he said gently as he climbed down the ladder.

"I come to you all the time for stupid little things," I shrugged. "I bet it's annoying."

"It's not," he said gently. "I really don't mind coming over to help you."

"If it ever gets annoying, please let me know."

I gasped when he leaned in and kissed my cheek. "I will never have to because it will never get annoying."

* * * * *

Even though Glen tried to reassure me that my always asking him for help wasn't annoying, I was still insecure about it. So, I refused to ask him for help. It lasted a week before I eventually did need his help.

I searched through my bag, saying several swear words under my breath as I tried to remember where I put my keys.

"Everything okay, Y/N?" I jumped, instantly making Glen feel bad. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's not you," I sighed. "It's just. . . It's been a day and I'm pretty sure I either left my keys in my desk at work or on the table right on the other side of this door."

"Well," he smiled, "good news is that you gave me your spare key last year. Give me one second to pop into my place and I'll grab it."

As we ran into his apartment, I wrapped my arms around myself. He quickly came back and smiled at me before unlocking my door.

"Your home, madam," he said, jokingly opening the door for me.

"Thank you," I sighed. "Seriously, Glen. Thank you."

I walked into my apartment and instantly found my keys right on the small table I have by the door.

"And here they are. Right by the door," I sighed as I grabbed them. I turned back toward Glen, my face burning. "I'm really sorry, Glen. I don't know why I'm so helpless."

"It's okay," he smiled. I swear, this guy is always smiling. "I already told you; I don't mind."

"But I do," I mumbled. I looked up to see him studying me. I cleared my throat before saying, "Thanks again, Glen. I won't keep you from your Friday night plans."

I sent him a smile before closing the door. Right as I closed the door, I heard him mumble, "I didn't have any plans."

* * * * *

A few hours later, I started making cookies for my book club tomorrow night but I didn't check if I had all my ingredients. When I grabbed the salt, I instantly groaned. My first thought should've been to run to the small grocery store around the corner but it wasn't. My first thought was to ask Glen.

I couldn't help but fix my shirt before leaving my apartment and heading to Glen's. I held my breath as I waited for him to open the door.

"Hey, Y/N," he smiled instantly.

"Sorry to bother you. . . Again, but I was wondering if. . ."

"Bother me."

"What?"

"Bother me," he repeated. "I love it when you bother me. It never bothers me."

I smiled when he cringed at how cheezy that sounded. But I loved it.

"I just mean," he tried to save himself, "that I like that you need me. It's been a while since someone has needed me."

"It's been a while since I've trusted someone enough to need them," I said, my voice soft. Glen smiled as he grabbed my hand and pulled me into his chest.

"Do you trust me?" He asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"I do," I whispered back. He leaned in and pressed his lips gently to mine. As I kissed him back, I wrapped my arms around his neck. He instantly wrapped his arms around my waist.

"You needed something," Glen said, breaking the kiss.

"Oh," I said, my voice still soft. "Right. Um, I was going to see if you had any salt."

"I do," he chuckled. "What are you making?"

"Cookies for my book club," I explained, my face turning slightly pink.

"That's fun," he said, reaching up and moving some hair out of my face. "You need an extra pair of hands?"

"I could use some help," I shrugged. I grabbed his hand and started pulling him to my apartment. He pulled back, turning me around. I started to ask what was wrong but his smile reassured me.

"We forgot the salt," he chuckled. He gave me a quick kiss before jogging back into his apartment.

I took a shaky breath as I waited. My mind went all over the place as I thought about what this could mean for us. We officially weren't just neighbors anymore. . . Right?

"You okay?"

I hadn't noticed him come back. "Yeah," I said, clearing my throat. "Just. . . overthinking."

"Overthinking?" He asked, his smile dropping. "About what, gorgeous?"

"Us?"

As soon as that word left my lips, I was worried about his reaction. Instead of getting angry or hurt, Glen took a step closer to me. He leaned in and gave me a slow and soft kiss. We broke the kiss, both of us out of breath. He leaned his forehead against mine as I anxiously waited for him to say something.

"There is nothing to overthink about us, Y/N," he whispered. "I have been obsessed with you since we first met. I want to give this a try."

"Really?" I asked as I leaned back.

"Really," he smiled. He chuckled before adding, "I should be honest with you. I only did my laundry on Thursdays that first night we met. I went back the next week, hoping to run into you again. When you told me you do laundry every Thursday night, I started doing mine every Thursday. And not that I've said that out loud, I realize how creepy and stalkerish that is."

"No, it's not," I smiled. "It's extremely sweet."

I wrapped my arms around his neck, stood on my toes, and kissed him. He smiled against my lips as he held me close to him. We broke apart with small giggles when we heard the oven in my apartment beep.

"Sorry to bother you," I said softly, "but any chance you can help me make cookies for my book club?"

[coff33andb00ks]

Recipe for the Perfect Christmas 12/12

One part small town girl coming home from the big city. One part handsome stranger. Five parts lifelong friends (don't forget to include their partners). One part stubborn father. A dash of Christmas spirit. Part: Twelve of Twelve Pairing: Oscar Piastri x ofc (with appearances from Mark Webber. Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz, Esteban Ocon, Pato O'Ward, and George Russell) wc: 5,670 warnings: none soundtrack: spotify ⋆❆⋆ apple music nav: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve a/n: the ending is here!! can't believe I panic wrote 60k words in less than two weeks but here we are. thank you to everyone for reading! (i will post a small epilogue tomorrow)

"Hey, Natalie? You got a minute?"

Looking up from sorting the papers on her father's desk, Natalie saw Max in the office doorway. It hit her again that this was now his office and she was relieved that the pang in her chest wasn't as sharp this time. "Yeah, sure," she said, standing. "What's up?"

He waved at her to sit back down and stepped inside. The apron he wore made him look a little odd in her opinion, though she knew she would get used to seeing him wearing one. She knew that he and Eve were technically living in town now. Oscar had told her there were just a few things left at their place in Fairview to bring down. Now that he wasn't going back and forth, Max had begun coming to the bakery every day. And though it had felt weird, having him standing next to her while she prepped croissant dough for the next morning, over the past week she had come to enjoy his company. He fit right in, the customers liked him, and he knew nearly as much as her father did about baking. He was as likeable, with a bit of sarcasm in some of his quips, and she had seen him work enough in the past week to know that he was a perfectionist.

"Is everything okay?" she asked when he sighed and shoved his hands into the pockets of his apron. An instant later he was pulling his hands out and fiddling with the snow globe on the edge of the desk.

"Yeah, no, everything is fine," he said with a quick smile. "I just wanted to…"

He sighed again, and Natalie frowned. "What, Max?"

"You know Eve's pregnant?" he asked, picking up the snow globe.

"She is? I didn't know. Congratulations," she said, grinning.

"Thanks." He grinned as well, reminding her that he was a devoted father. "We're not telling everyone yet because it's early, but… " His grin only widened. Turning the snow globe in his hand, he tipped it until the glitter and fake snow inside collected at the top. "We're pretty excited."

"New town, new house, new business, new kids… You two just have to go the extra mile, huh?"

"No kidding," he chuckled. He held the snow globe upright, watching the snow and glitter swirl. "Anyway, she won't be able to help out for long. Her pregnancy with Lucas wasn't easy and she was put on bedrest. I'm not saying that's gonna happen this time around, but we're gonna need to be careful, you know?"

"Yeah."

"And I'm still learning my way around here," he went on, setting the snow globe back down. I know Mark's only a phone call away and unless I've got him wrong, he'll show up at least every other day, but…"

"You don't want to bother him," she guessed, warming to him even more.

"Exactly. And, um, you know this place better than I do."

"Not really."

"You do, Natalie. And you've done a damned good job. Mark told me he couldn't have kept everything going these past few weeks without you." Max sighed again. "What I'm saying is…"

Natalie waited for him to either gather his courage or his thoughts. Looking down at the paper in her hand, she wondered if her father needed a receipt from an order he'd placed six years before. Knowing him, he would want to hold onto it just in case. She leaned to set it in the stack of receipts that she would later work to organize by date and then find the spot in the filing cabinet for them.

"Would you consider staying on?" Max asked.

"Staying on?" she echoed.

"At least part-time. Until after the babies are born and Eve can get back to work."

"That's a year from now," she murmured.

"Yeah, at least," he sighed. "I don't know what your plans are after Mark's surgery, but if you're gonna stay in town, I'd love for you to keep working here."

"I—" Natalie faltered. She thought of the voicemail she had saved on her phone from Katie in Atlanta. Katie, who'd emailed her photos of a cute apartment with a nice view. Katie, who'd offered her a bonus to assist her in her move. Katie, who she hadn't called because she was still warring with herself over whether she wanted to accept the job. She both did and did not.

"You're good at this. You're great at baking. You'd be a huge help. I'm not trying to guilt you, but I know Mark would rest a little easier knowing you were here. Hell, I'd be a little easier knowing you were here. And I think the people that come in here every day would be less upset about me taking over if they knew a Webber would still be in the shop." He cleared his throat and pulled a slip of paper from his pocket. "I sat up late last night doing some figuring, and this is what I can offer for pay and benefits."

She took it, looking at the neatly written figures. "Can I think about it?"

"Sure. Just let me know in a couple days, because if you don't want the job, I'll have to look into hiring someone else."

She nodded. "I'll let you know tomorrow."

"Great." He smiled and turned to leave the office. "We're still on for tomorrow night?"

"Yep." It had been her father's idea to have a Christmas Eve party and invite a few people over. Nothing fancy, mainly finger foods and treats and Mark's special Santa's Whiskers cookies, hot cocoa and coffee and eggnog, Christmas cartoons and carols. When she had left the house he had been at the kitchen table, making lists of what he needed to get done. It had given him a new sense of purpose, especially when Max and his family, her friends and their partners and kids, and Oscar had said they would come.

"Perfect, you can just tell me tomorrow night, then," he said before leaving.

Turning back to the papers, she began to sort, softly humming along to the music Max had playing in the kitchen.

The bakery was moving into good hands, she thought, smiling when she heard Eve's laugh as Max began to sing along with Nat King Cole. It would forever hold memories for her, both good and bad, but she now accepted that it was time for a new set of memories. Lucas would no doubt picture his father at the counter, grinning and offering him a cookie. Grace would soon learn all the nooks and crannies where she could tuck herself away to read or play quietly. Max and Eve would love the building and everything in it. Maybe not as much as her father did, at least at first, but they would with time. And their obvious love would keep customers coming.

She picked up the slip of paper Max had given her and read it over again after she had sorted all the papers in the desk. It was a generous offer. Not as much as she would make in Atlanta, but… The cost of living here was a lot lower.

Another tick in her mental pros and cons list.

After storing the keep pile and tucking the questionable pile into a large envelope, she glanced around the office. Her father had already taken out the things he wanted at home. A few photos, gifts customers had given him over the years.

She turned slowly to look at the hook on the wall, expecting to see her mother's apron where it had always been. The hook was empty and the air left her lungs in a shaky exhale. Had he taken it home? She hadn't seen it in the box of stuff she'd carried inside from his truck. She reached for her phone to call him and ask him, then remembered he was busy in the kitchen. He wouldn't answer, if he even had his phone on him. She could wait until she got home and ask him.

Stepping out of the office, she spotted Eve heading out the back door and stopped her. "Did you see the red apron hanging in the office?"

"The one with flour?" Eve asked.

Natalie nodded, a bundle of panic forming in her gut. "Yeah. I-it was Mom's."

Eve's expression softened. "I didn't know. When Mark was here this morning he took it down."

The panic fled and she let out a soft sigh. "He took it home?"

"Yeah. I offered to just throw it in the laundry but he said no." The woman's eyes flashed with sadness. "I hope I didn't upset him."

"You didn't, I promise. He told me once it would hang there until the place was no longer his."

"That's beautiful." Eve smiled sadly. "I wonder if…"

Her gaze drifted to her husband and Natalie knew what she was wondering. She doubted she should comment, since she didn't know them intimately, but she was already starting to nod. "Yes."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

Penny cautiously circled the room, nose pressed to the floor. Her tail wagged slowly as she explored, occasionally snorting, and when she reached Oscar's boot she stopped, head tipping in confusion. Then, with a snort, she moved by him and slipped into the next room. It was the kitchen, and all Oscar could smell when he followed was the faint aroma of fresh paint, but she showed keen interest in all corners and especially in front of the stove. The dog circled the room again, tail wagging faster, and after giving a quick bark she trotted into the little utility room, tail banging against the washer and dryer. After a moment she was back, tongue lolling happily, and stopped in front of him.

"What do you think?" Oscar asked.

"I think I've seen a many things in my life, but I've never seen somebody need a dog's opinion before deciding to buy a house," Carlos said.

Oscar chuckled. "It's gonna be her home, too, if I buy it."

"You still don't know?" Carlos looked up from his phone.

Sighing, he looked around the kitchen. It was small, and the cabinets would need replacing. He had no idea if the L-shaped counter was enough space, or if the spot near the window would hold a table and chairs. He closed his eyes for a moment then looked again, imagining the things he would like to do. Turning, he did the same to the living room and thought of the two bedrooms and little bathroom. Nodding to himself, he leaned down to clip Penny's leash to her collar. She groaned lightly, still unused to it, perking up when he offered her a treat.

"I think I do," he said finally. But still he hesitated, Natalie's words the night before echoing in his mind.

With the bonus they're offering I could hire someone to help Dad out around the house.

It seemed she was leaning closer to moving to Atlanta, despite her whispers that she needed him.

He thought of the offer his father had given him. Back home, he would be close to his parents. Not that they needed him nearby. They seemed more energetic now than they had when he was a child. And even if they did need one of their children near, one of his sisters lived two houses down. But he would be close to home, even if it hadn't felt like home since his grandmother had died, and he would have steady work, even if it did feel like a nepotistic handout.

"I'll let you know for sure in a couple days," he told Carlos as they walked outside. Then, realizing the date, he chuckled. "Or maybe the first of the week?"

"You know where to find me," Carlos told him with a grin. "Or let me know at Mr. Webber's tomorrow?"

Penny buried her nose in the rosebush next to the steps as soon as her feet hit the ground.

"Mr. Wright grew that from a cutting his mother gave him." Carlos watched Penny sniff around the rosebush. "She grew hers from a cutting her mother gave her, and the story was that her grandparents brought he original plan over with them from Scotland."

"Is there one at his sister's?"

"Yes. We have one at home, Sasha was given a cutting when we moved in." Carlos shivered. "Weather's changing."

"Yeah," Oscar agreed, though he had no idea how the man could tell. It was almost warm, the sun peeking out occasionally from clouds that spit pitiful rain every few minutes. "I was hoping for a white Christmas."

"It'll happen." Carlos nodded.

Oscar squinted as the sunlight appeared, as though to prove the prediction wrong. "I'll take your word for it."

Promising to let Carlos know by the first of the week, Oscar opened his truck door. He unhooked Penny's leash after she jumped in, and waited until she had moved to sit on the passenger seat before climbing in. The dog gave a small whine after he started the engine and began to back out of the driveway, and he sighed as the sunlight disappeared and rain began to splatter on the windshield.

"I know, girl," he murmured. As he drove towards Max's house, he wondered if the dog would enjoy his old home.

***

Christmas Eve dawned, cold and cloudy. Natalie shivered when she pulled back the curtain and saw the heavy frost on the ground, sparkling in the early morning light. The sunlight was weak. When she looked up to the sky she could see clouds starting to creep in, and thought of her father's prediction for a heavy snow.

There was music playing in the kitchen when she got downstairs, and the smell of coffee and pancakes and sausage. She slipped around her father to fix her plate, quickly getting out of his way. The counters were covered with ingredients and utensils and the beginnings of his prep work for the food they'd eat that night. She ate her breakfast quickly, almost silently, her father too focused on his different stations to be conversational.

There was a fitful snow starting to fall when she rinsed her dishes and put them in the dishwasher. Unsure what else to do, she pitched in to help her father get cookie dough and pastry dough ready to chill, mainly moving behind him to wash dirtied utensils and wipe off the floured surfaces once he finished. She wasn't needed, she realized when they bumped into each other the third time. At a loss, she finally washed her hands and looked out at the softly floating snowflakes.

"Max offered me a job," she blurted.

Mark stopped chopping pecans. "Did he?"

"At the bakery."

"Doing what?"

"What I've been doing." She paused. "He can offer me a decent pay."

"Do you want to?" he asked carefully.

"I think I do."

"What changed?" There was no hurt in his voice and for that she was glad.

"The bakery doesn't hurt anymore," she admitted. "And it would be part-time, so I could still do writing on the side. Plus, he needs the help."

"He doesn't."

"Eve's not gonna be able to help him out for long." She told him the news, enjoyed the warmth of his surprise and joy for them. One day, she hoped, she would be able to tell him that she would be having a baby and could only imagine his delight. At one point when she had imagined her future children they had been vague, dreamlike figures. When she closed her eyes and thought of them now, they had distinct grins and chocolate brown eyes.

"I thought you were going to Atlanta."

"I thought I was too," she whispered. Opening her eyes, she saw the tiny flakes were growing larger.

"Penny go?"

"Of course Penny's going. Mister Mark would turn us away if we didn't bring her." Max laughed and held up the pair of pants. "Get these on."

"Cookies."

"Not now, you'll ruin your appetite." Max grabbed his son's swinging leg and before Lucas could slip out of his grip he had the pants up to his knees. Then he paused. "…Do you need to pee?"

"Need cookie."

"You want a cookie. You don't need a cookie."

Lucas shook his head. "No want. Need."

Max sighed with defeat and turned to Oscar. "Help."

"Hey, you created him, I'm just the guy that spoils him rotten."

"He's got his mother's sweet tooth. Do you know what he had for breakfast this morning?"

"Yeah, waffles."

"Before that." Max tugged his son's pants up and caught him before he could slide off the bed. "Shoes, Lucas."

Oscar handed over a shoe. "What did he have?"

"Brownies."

Oscar stared at his friend. "You gave him brownies? And you're still alive?"

"Barely," Max muttered. "It's not my fault that he got his mother's pout, too."

"Not to mention your stubborn attitude," Oscar pointed out when Lucas began to crawl across the bed after one shoe had been slipped onto his foot.

"It took me two hours to get my ass out of trouble." Max leaned forward and dragged his son back towards him. "I don't even know if there is a rosebush that grows purple roses naturally."

"There is."

"Thank god." Max slipped the other shoe onto Lucas and stepped back with an exhausted sigh. "Done!"

Lucas slipped off the bed and stood, brow puckering, one hand clutching the edge of his mattress. "Pee."

"You've got to be kidding me." Max dragged a hand over his face. "I just asked—And you said—If I give you a cookie will you go pee in the potty?"

"Cookie!" Lucas squealed as he was scooped up, and his giggles rang in the air while Max hurried into the bathroom. "Cookie for pee!"

Laughing, Oscar pushed himself to his feet. "You're bribing him."

"I'm doing whatever works. I'm trying to get some headway on this before the baby comes."

"That's months away."

"Do you not know how long potty training can take?" Max snorted. Then his voice softened. "You done?"

"Pee."

"Yeah, son, pee. Have you finished peeing?"

"Cookie."

"After you pee."

"Cookie."

"In a minute."

There was absolute silence. Oscar counted along in his head, biting back a laugh as the seconds stretched on. Then, triumphantly, Lucas clapped. "Cookie now!"

"I don't have a cookie right now."

Lucas's long-suffering sigh was audible even to Oscar. "I done."

"I can't do this again," Max announced after helping his son wash his hands. "Grace was easy. He's stubborn as hell and has me wrapped around his finger. He pouts just like Eve and I give him whatever he wants."

"Grace has you wrapped around her finger, too," Oscar told him, following them into the hall.

"You're right," Max chuckled. Swinging Lucas up onto his hip, he headed down the stairs. "You ready to go?"

Oscar opened his mouth to say that he would drive himself, not wanting to be squeezed between the two car seats in the back of Max's SUV. His phone began to vibrate incessantly and he pulled it out, frowning when he saw Mr. Wright's name on the screen. "Yeah, almost. I'll meet you there."

He barely heard Max's reply, turning to go into the guest bedroom to answer the call. "Hello?"

"Oscar?"

"Yes, sir." He frowned, walking over to the window to glance out. It had snowed off and on for most of the day, but not heavily. The grass was covered and there was a soft dusting on the road. Squinting at the streetlamp at the corner of the lot, he couldn't see any evidence of anything falling.

"I just got an offer on the house and unless you want it, I'm gonna let them have it."

He almost asked who, but the man went on.

"Tommy's son is getting married in the spring. His girlfriend lives over in Lakefield and he brought her to take a look at the place this morning. She fell in love with it, and…" Mr. Wright sighed. "Have you made up your mind yet?"

He hadn't. So many things were up in the air at the moment. Drawing in a breath, he hesitated. Mr. Wright didn't rush him, and when he saw Max's car pull out of the drive he squeezed his eyes shut. "I…"

"We shouldn't stay long. It's really coming down."

"You don't have to stay. I'm just glad you stopped by." Natalie took a sip of her cocoa and slipped her arm around Susie's shoulders for a squeeze.

"We'll stay a bit longer. Michael is having so much fun."

Looking over to where the boy sat near the tree. He and Grace were chattering excitedly while building some sort of intricate tower using the building blocks Natalie had given Michael. Next to them was the half-finished page from Grace's new coloring book featuring horses and cowboys. Her gaze moved around the room, looking for Lucas, and she smiled when she saw him leaning to get another cookie from the platter on the coffee table.

Hannah was on the couch, talking animatedly with Amira and Sasha, who accepted Lucas when he crawled into her lap. George was squatting next to Mark's armchair, the two chatting while Lilli danced with Carlos to the song playing. Another glance showed Pato and Amira tucked close to each other, talking with Franco and Ollie and Mrs. Jones, who'd arrived with them. Max and Eve were sipping eggnog and talking to Esteban, who was inexplicably wearing a cowboy hat.

"Do you know Esteban and Max were joking around that Michael and Grace should get married?" Susie grunted. "At least, I hope they were joking."

"Arranged marriage?" Natalie asked with a grin.

"Pretty much." Susie was not amused. "It's so disgusting."

"Misogynistic," Natalie agreed with a nod.

"Oppressing and sexist."

Natalie looked on while Grace jumped to her feet and grabbed Michael's hand. The two walked to the center of the room, giggling, both staring up at the ceiling. Her gaze shifted and she saw the bundle of mistletoe her father had insisted she hang from the light fixture.

"Aww," Susie cooed.

Snapping her attention back to Grace and Michael, Natalie laughed. Michael's lips were pressed to Grace's cheek. She could hear the exaggerated smack of the kiss, and then again when Grace kissed his cheek. Giggling, they skipped back over to the blocks and resumed their play.

Natalie turned to her friend. "Then again, they may have a point."

"Guess I should drag Esteban over for a kiss."

Natalie rolled her eyes. "Like he needs mistletoe to kiss you."

"No, but it's tradition." Susie smoothed the front of her sweater and flicked her hair over her shoulders. "Excuse me."

Shaking her head, she watched Susie move across the room to her husband, who was still chatting with Eve. Max had been with them, and she now saw he had stepped into the dining room. She watched him frown at his phone before slipping it into his pocket, and when he reentered the living room she softly called his name.

"Have you heard from Oscar?" he asked.

"I was about to ask you the same thing." Everyone else had arrived nearly an hour before. She hadn't worried, because he had promised he was coming. He had sent her a text just before Pato and Amira had gotten there, saying he would be a little late. Reaching to pull her phone from the pocket of her jeans, she groaned when she saw it had died.

"I just called him, it's going to voicemail."

"Did his phone die again?" she sighed, setting her mug of cocoa on the mantle and heading into the kitchen. "That happened the night of that bad storm a couple weeks ago."

"Either that or he turned it off. He does that when he's got to think about something."

Plugging up her phone, Natalie drummed her fingers on the counter for the entire three minutes it took for the device to charge enough to power on. It seemed to take twice as long for the Apple logo to appear, and four times as long before the lock screen finally loaded. She unlocked it, then gave the phone time enough to catch any missed calls, voicemails, or texts.

"Anything?" Max asked, looking up from his own phone.

She opened the text she had received and frowned, confused, as she read the words that had been sent more than thirty minutes before.

I'm coming. I've just got to figure a couple things out. I might not be able to get the house. I might take the job with Dad. But I need to know what you're gonna do. I know I shouldn't make life decisions based on just four weeks of knowing someone but I am.

"Well?"

"I've gotta go," she blurted, pushing away from the counter. Max stumbled when she bumped into him, and she muttered a quick apology as she heard his phone hit the floor. Hurrying out of the kitchen, she noticed but didn't really see Esteban and Susie kissing sweetly beneath the mistletoe. It occurred to her as she snatched her coat off the rack that she should tell her father where she was going, but she heard his warm laugh and decided she didn't have time.

The snow was coming down thick and heavy. The street was white and she walked quickly as she could, slightly lightheaded from the snow whirling around her. When she reached the corner of Halifax Street her steps quickened, and she heard the snow crunch beneath her boots as she reached the beautiful Victorian house. Bedecked in lights, trees twinkling through the upstairs windows and the large window downstairs, it positively glowed with warmth. She skidded to a stop, gasping, and saw that Oscar's truck wasn't in the driveway. She looked at the house again. The lights and snow created an aura of merriment and she could almost feel the joy that would fill the house in the coming years.

She wanted that joy for herself.

Where was he? She walked to the driveway to make sure his truck wasn't there. Saw only Eve's car backed up to the garage. Turning, she began to slowly walk back down the street, barely feeling the cold or the snowflakes landing on her cheeks. He was going to leave. She couldn't blame him. Guaranteed work, close to his parents. She didn't want him to stay here just for her, even if she had called Katie that afternoon and told her she wouldn't be taking the job. Even if she had thought of seeing him every day at the bakery while she worked for Max, who'd seemed overjoyed when she had pulled him into the kitchen as soon as he'd arrived to tell him she would stay on. And when she'd confirmed her father's appointment for pre-op bloodwork the next week, she had thought of Oscar's comforting presence while she waited during her father's surgery, and his easygoing company in those first days after her father came back home to recover.

Stopping on the corner, she wiped the mixture of tears and melted snow from her cheeks, groping in her coat pocket for a tissue. Oscar would leave, and she would stay, and every time Max or Eve mentioned him she would think of everything that could have been.

She was about to start walking again when she heard a dog start barking. It was too loud and clear for it to be inside one of the nearby houses, and she glanced around. Turning, she heard the bark again, coming from down Brickyard Avenue. Funny, but it almost sounded like Penny, she thought, finally finding a crumpled tissue to use to wipe her face. The snowfall grew heavier and she sniffled, about to continue on her way home when movement caught her eye.

A small dog coming up the street. It passed below a streetlamp and she saw the green dog sweater. She blinked in surprise as it bounded towards her. "Penny?"

Of course it was Penny. No other dog in town that she had seen had the same coat and coloring. As the dog approached she heard the jingle of her collar. Glad as she was to see the dog, worry pricked through while she squatted to greet Penny with a hug.

"Where's—"

"Natalie!"

There he was. Coming up the street in a jog, breath fogging around him. Penny ran back towards him and Natalie followed, stride lengthening to close the distance. "Where—"

"My truck broke down, I turned my phone off so I could think, and I left it at the house." He stopped, catching her arm when her boots slid on the snow. "I had to run see Mr. Wright."

"What hap—"

"I don't know, I think it's the alternator. I left it out at Mr. Wright's." He drew in a breath. "I bought the house."

"What?" she gasped, grasping the front of his coat.

"I'm staying. I couldn't let someone else get it, because when I took Penny to take a look yesterday she loved it and because I kept seeing things I wanted to do with the house and the land. It's taking all my savings, and I'll have to eat ramen for a year, but I want it. For the first time since I broke up with Lauren I want to own a house." He was breathless, either from excitement or his run. "Mr. Harrell was at Mr. Wright's, and he said he needs someone to do maintenance on his rentals."

Natalie nodded, though he was speaking so fast she could barely keep up.

"I start week after next. Doing what I did for Max and Eve. It's not gonna be easy, but I know I can do it." He paused and swiped snow from his cheeks. "I don't know what you're gonna do, Natalie, but I have to stay here. Yeah, I know I'm falling in love with you, but I fell in love with this town and all the crazy people in it."

"I'm staying," she told him before he could continue. "Max wants me to stay at the bakery, and Dad needs me. And I'll be able to do my writing. I don't know if I'll find anything I can do remotely, but I'll try. If nothing else I'll start a blog or maybe write that book I've wanted to write since I was a kid. I can't leave again, because if I do I know I'd never come back—"

"Thank god," he breathed, pulling her to him.

"What?" she whispered after his lips pressed to her forehead.

"You're staying. And not for me."

"You're a little bit of the reason—"

"You're staying because you love your dad and you love the bakery enough to help it keep going and because you love this little town," he insisted.

"Yeah," she admitted with a small laugh. "I do."

"And I'm staying because I love this little town and I love being close to my idiot friend and I love that little house."

At their feet, Penny barked.

"And I couldn't take her away. She'd never forgive me for taking her away from Mark."

"Neither would he," she said.

"I'm glad you're staying," he murmured. His arms wrapped around her.

"I'm glad you're staying," she returned. Leaning against him, she felt a giddiness rise up within her as his words finally registered in her brain. "And I'm falling in love with you, too."

"Yeah?" He grinned, his beautiful, adorable grin that warmed her heart.

"Yeah," she whispered just as his lips found hers.

She pulled back moments later, a little dizzy and weak, and gazed up at him. "Come on, Dad's gonna get worried when he realizes I left the party. And there's presents waiting for you."

"Presents?"

"Dad got you something. I did, too."

"I think Max brought my gifts with him," he said, keeping one arm around her as they began to walk. He called to Penny, who trotted alongside them until they reached Natalie's street. Then the dog gave a tiny yip and bounded ahead. Oscar laughed, tucking Natalie closer to his side. "What did you get me?"

"I won't tell you everything, but one of them is a phone charger for your truck."

"A charger." He nodded. "Useful."

"You need it."

"I do."

"What did you get me?" she asked, watching Penny jump up the steps and onto the front porch. Her friends' cars and trucks and Max's SUV were still parked out front and she was glad. All those closest to her would be there to celebrate both her news and Oscar's news. Penny began to scratch at the door and she tried to remember if she'd placed a towel near the door to catch snow. The dog would need a good rub down.

"I won't tell you everything," Oscar chuckled. "But one of them is a book."

"A book?"

"Yeah. It'll come in handy, since you're going to keep working at the bakery."

"What is it?" She stopped halfway up the walk, waving to her father when he opened the door. Oscar waved, too. Mark waved back with the towel he was holding, then closed the door after Penny slipped inside the house.

Oscar turned to her, arm slipping around her waist and drawing her close. "A cookbook."

"A cookbook," she repeated, lifting her eyebrows.

"Baking for Dummies."

Before she could give an indignant reaction, he swept her close and kissed her. She laughed against his lips, too full of hope and joy to be outraged by his gift. She heard the front door open again, music and laughter spilling outside.

Pato's voice rang out, disgusted. "What the hell is with you two and standing outside in the cold?!"

The End

[weaver-z]

They should kill the writer who made a character in Star Trek Discovery talk about Elon Musk as an innovative inventor of the 21st Century. We need to drag that guy through the streets like a war trophy

[naydralikessoup]

have any of you seen id: invaded. have any of you seen id: invaded. have any of you seen id: invaded. have any of you seen id: invaded. have any of you seen id: invaded

show of all time

[rimouskis]

also as a society plagued by wealth inequality and rising cost of living we really need to address how we show love through money. like I offered to come over to help them decorate their new house so many times and they kept refusing me 😞 I wanted to help them paint! but noooooooo

[maddy-ferguson]

talking to new people again is making me realize that (this is gonna sound dramatic) i haven't lived in five years but what i have done is watch a lot of movies and read a bunch of books and believe it or not that actually makes me an interesting conversationalist in some ways (?)

[themostuselesspotato]

I was a very sheltered kid and didn't get to consume fandom content until a few years ago, and most of the fandoms I'm in have been over for years before I watched the content. It's really weird to experience a show in real time?? Like usually I binge something and then go and obsess over fandom content for the next month (or several), but now I have to wait for said fandom content to be made?? I wanna read fanfic about the tbb finale but I also need to give creators time to write it lol 😅

I'm just so not used to being in fandoms that are still updating/just ended that it feels weird to me ig

[beesholmes]

.

[girlivealwaysbean]

iwtv really is such a great show i can't believe everyone isn't watching it

[beautifultedium]

Really just want some earrings that look like big fish hooks but not the fake gauge ones. No hate but I would really like to look like I stuck large but regular-ass hooks through my ears

[ninjuice]

.

[homunculus-argument]

Sometimes in therapy I feel like I don't have trauma in some correct sort of way. Like I'll be explaining that my childhood wasn't even really traumatic, just kind of bleak and boring. The worst my parents ever made me feel was disappointed, but not surprised. it was all so very mundane. And whenever some therapist asks me what I mean, I'll tell some random story that I happen to remember off the top of my head of what my childhood was like, or one that I think illustrated what kind of people my parents were and what their relationship was like.

Like this one time I remember when I was like 10 or so, I can't remember where we were going but the whole family was getting into the car, and dad started bitching at mom about how come when their first car was in his name, it was their car, and then when they had their own cars they had his car and her car, but now that they only have one car again, it's still just her car.

And then mom bitterly pointed out that the reason why he doesn't have a company benefit car anymore is because he lost his lisence for driving drunk with the kids on board while she was on a business trip. (And while mom didn't bring it up at the time, he had also tried to cover this up and act like nothing had happened. And she wouldn't have found out if my (11/12-year-old at the time?) sister hadn't thought of calling one of mom's friends like "hey cops showed up and took dad so we're home alone now idk what we're supposed to do now" and she came to watch us and told mom.)

...And I was like 10 and sitting quietly on the back seat listening to them bickering about this because they still both bothered to be mad about it. Not mad enough to get divorced or anything, but still bitter enough to bitch at each other about each other. And a therapist will be like wow how did that make you feel, and ???

Bored of it? Disappointed, but not surprised? That was just what life was like. Quietly waiting for bitter adults to be done bickering with each other because you can't do anything to fix this and while they could, they won't do anything to improve their lives. Life was just like that.

[inmaki]

gojo showing off your back scratches to geto

( cont from this fic! req, visual ) .

contains: sex talk, desc of back scratches, crack, sugu is called daddy once (as a joke.. right..)

everything was relatively peaceful in suguru's apartment. key word: relatively.

a forgettable yet appreciated sunday afternoon, not a cloud in sight despite the weather forecast predicting downpours of rain. either way, the raven-haired man insouciantly rested across his white couch, reaching the conclusion that today would be a day for self-care, relaxing, and perhaps some meditation.

there was only one thing ruining his peace.

all morning, suguru has been forced to try and ignore the stain a certain someone has left on his couch — a pair of unecessarily expensive yet dirty shoes being the culprit.

despite these attempts, every once in a while his gaze can't help but wander over at the mark — as if it'd poof out of existence if he glared hard enough.

"fuckin' asshole.." he mutters. it was a wonder his relationship with his best friend managed to stay so promising despite all their differences, yet suguru wouldn't have it any other way, even after situations like this.

right when he grumpily turns back to the tv — which was playing some crappy, low budget rom-com — his apartment door is yanked open and suguru swears he nearly jumps out of his seat.

great, was this it? was he about to get robbed, perhaps evicted? and then probably die? forced into the afterlife knowing gojo's shoe-shit was still on his new couch? no that can't—

"i fucked her!"

suguru whips his head towards the apartment door, announcement being disregarded as he nearly groans in agony. speak of the devil.

big blue eyes peak out from under circular sunglasses, one hand already raised in preparation for a dap up while his stupid, big, dirty shoe pushes the door closed behind him. gojo wears a black compression shirt with grey sweats, marching over to his friend with a ginormous grin across his cheeks.

"take your shoes off, now," suguru snaps, nodding to his friend's feet with a frown.

"yeesh... whatever y'say, daddy," the bastard never loses his smile as his hands raise in surrender, kicking them off by the door smoothly. "what's got your panties in a twist?"

geto pinches his nose bridge. "don't call me that," as he continues the scolding, he points to the living room with his free hand. "you got a mystery stain on my couch, satoru. do you know how many youtube videos i watched trying to get this shit off?"

unphased, gojo takes a look at the strangely colored blob against the armrest's leather material and shrugs. "my bad. did you try febreeze?"

"what— no? dude, febreeze is for.." when suguru looks back up to sourly meet his gaze, he could immediately tell the white-haired man was already drifting back into la-la-land, words going in one ear and out the other. "..nevermind. why're you here?"

at the reminder, satoru seemingly brightens, head shooting back up as if he was just told he'd won the lottery.

"oh god, don't make that stupid face—" he pauses. "the fuck are you doing?" suguru might as well say goodbye to his self-care day, because now gojo was stripping in the middle of his living room, shirt thrown haphazardly onto the still-very-much-stained couch.

"just look!" suguru squints as his friend swivels around to face the wall, pushing his bangs away to get a better view of the— oh shit.

it takes the raven-haired man a second to process what he's seeing before shuffling forward, closely examining the achingly red, bulging scratch marks displayed sexily across the latter's back and shoulders. "no way.."

suguru knows the strongest sorcerer well enough to notice how he purposely didn't use reversed cursed technique on these scratches, just so it'd be obvious to anyone that caught a glimpse of what exactly occured. to his further dismay, he can already picture a smug and sweaty gojo walking around their local gym like this, proud simper on his pretty lips as he easily raises a pair of weights in his veiny hands.

a hiss escapes geto's mouth as he runs his finger down a particularly agitated one, knowing exactly how painful they could be after experiencing many hook-ups of his own. even so, satoru only licks his lips, neck craning to the side so he can pride himself in his friend's gobsmacked expression.

"damn, these are deep. you actually hit it?" suguru confirms, raising a celebratory hand.

turning back around, satoru daps him up, a massive smirk now on both their faces. "hell yeah, it was amazing."

it was impossible to predict what gojo would do next after barging through his front door — especially considering how many times he's done so — but this has to be the last thing suguru ever expected.

not that he was complaining — in fact, all of geto's temper and need for relaxation seemingly flew out the window, the feeling of proudness for his best friend overthrowing anything else.

and even if he hated to admit it, the way gojo was so eager to come over and announce his virginity loss to him was more than a little endearing, and dare he say cute.

"that's great, man. congrats." suguru leads him into the kitchen — still shamelessly shirtless — to grab them both a can of beer in celebration. while the white-haired man usually didn't get involved with any form of alcohol, this occasion was most definitely exception-worthy. "you made y/n cum too, right?"

an offended glare is shot his way. "duh, two times."

"huh. surprised you could last."

as suguru pours their drinks into two fragile cups, gojo exhales, not bothered in the slightest by his jab. "dude, same.." he admits dreamily. "she was so fuckin' tight and warm.. and oh— fuck, her moans? heavenly.. 'can't believe i didn't bust after the first minute.."

geto gulps, trying his best to ignore the mental image his brain was producing from his dirty words. you can't blame him — both of you were smoking hot, and he was a simple man.

even now, he could already imagine what you both looked like; panting and moaning, skin-slapping so loud that it echoed through the whole room, how blissed out you'd look as gojo's cock split you in t—

satoru's playful sigh cuts through the tensing air. "who knows sugs, maybe you'll have another kind of stain to worry about next time we're over~"

he's never snapped out of a daydream so quickly. "don't even joke about that."

over the next hour, the two men sat manspread on the stained couch, taking leisure sips while recalling satoru's final moments as a virgin — suguru giving out his secret tips and tricks along the way.

maybe sometime, suguru could offer some.. hands-on learning instead.

mlist! <- sugu.. how could u think abt ur bestie and his gf like that... tsk tsk tsk (if u enjoyed reblogs/comments r appreciated heheh)

© inmaki on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[nightingale-prompts]

Danny lives in a horror movie-DC x DP prompt

Based on my favorite book series "tales from the gas station"

It's not every day that a mission requires the league to travel to middle America in a bid to obtain a highly cursed artifact but it certainly is today.

Locating the Seal of Silent Ashes was a task usually given to Justice League Dark but Constantine was currently busy. So that meant it was left to the poster boys to get this done. They dressed in civilian attire to investigate the last location of the seal starting with the first building on the edge of town. A small dusty gas station near the woods.

The inside had an awful smell, like death and cleaning fluid. The lights gave off a greenish-blue tint. Rats could be seen out of the corner of your eyes. Most of the chips were offbrand and crappy.

Behind the counter was the teenage boy chewing gum. He looked up at the group before going back to reading his book. He had clearly seen better days but didn't show signs of caring about the state of his hair or bags under his eyes. He drank his coffee.

The air felt off.

"Hey kiddo, do you mind giving us directions?" Clark started.

The kid narrowed his eyes as he popped his gum.

"You're not from here. That or you're from that cult in the woods. Listen I'm not joining. Seriously, cosmic nihilism and fatalism sounds doomed. Hey wait-" the teen checked his notes " No, the cult killed themselves in that mass suicide 2 weeks ago. I forgot, sorry."

The teen didn't say anything else as he went back to his book.

The horrified look of the adults shared was almost hilarious. At least to the teen if he looked up.

"Oh, and stay out of the woods. I don't want the police to come back and ask about who saw you last. Seriously if whatever is in there tears you apart I won't feel bad. I put those signs out forever ago and if I get one more girl covered in blood running in here screaming about her dead friends I'll get a headache." The teen shrugged turning the page.

"What do you mean?! Why would-?! Who's killing people?!" Barry asked frantically as Bruce serched for more reports of missing people in the area.

"I don't know. Why would I know? If you want to go in the cursed forest go ahead. I mean that's how they all die. It isn't my job to stop you. My job is to sit here and watch this store." The teen huffed in annoyance.

Before anymore questions were asked the signal of the radio was disrupted and a demonic howl screeched through the radio.

"God damnit. That cunt is back. Stay here." The teen growled as he grabbed his bat from under the counter and walked out the back door. "String bean! Get off the fucking roof you bastard! You know that radio is all I have here!"

A chattering laugh like a death rattle was heard and the sound of 2 sets of feet was heard on the roof then they lept down.

"Come here so I can beat you to death!" The teen ran around the building towards the front of the gas station chasing-what the fuck is that!

It was like a human that was twisted to crabwalk on all fours backwards. Its face was contorted into a black stretched-out smile with no teeth. It had no eyes just black sockets. All its limbs were stretched out to an extra meter in length. It was a skinwalker of some kind with chalk-white skin. It was skittering away from the teen who was swinging his bat at its head.

"Stop running! I told you before what would happen if I found you fucking with me again!" The boy meant it as he finally landed a hit and began wacking it over and over it.

The skin walker screeched and tried to run for its life but couldn't.

After reducing the monster into a black puddle the black-stained teen came back inside to sit back down not paying anymore to the monster blood he was covered in.

"Sorry about that. Most of the freaks around here have learned to stay away from this place. That one is new and he doesn't listen. You'd think they'd learn but Sting Bean thinks he can torment me. Petty bastard." The teen sighed "anyways are going to buy anything or are you going to waste what oxygen we get in here with this shitty ventilation.

Diana couldn't help but admire the boldness of the boy. He had no hesitation or fear against the beasts of this area even if was crude.

"Does Constantine have a cousin or something? Just a more angry one" Barry whispered to Hal.