#i have a feeling this is going to be my entire week

[ladsonlads]

Impartial Hearts | Sylus - Part Two

Pairing -> Boss Sylus x Non MC Reader

Parts -> Part One | Part Two

Synopsis -> You’ve been working as Onychinus’s accountant for two years, and you’ve been carrying two heavy secrets for a third of it. You were in love with your boss, and your mother was dying.

A/N -> I'm sorry it took so long. I have been obsessing over trying to make part two perfect but I don't think I can. It's time I share my baby with you, and I really hope you enjoy it.

Tags -> Angst, fluff :)

Trigger Warnings -> Character death, heavily mentions grief. Some parts are suggestive but there is no smut.

Word Count -> 18.8K (it got kinda crazy)

Late October

It was cold, dark and gloomy; the weather a perfect pathetic fallacy to the narrative of your life. The freshly disturbed patch of grass failed to convey the significance of who laid underneath it. It was vexing, how the world continued to spin on it’s axis despite the fact that it stopped spinning for you. 

It hurt to think about the events that led to your undoing. The weeks prior to the moment your mother drew her last breath. You were a cracked vase filled with wilting flowers and overflowing regret. Every breath you took consumed more energy than you could spare and yet the world just. Kept. Spinning. 

“I brought you flowers. Yellow tulips, by the way.” The words felt like lead on your tongue. It was one thing to accept your mother was never coming back, it was another to try to act normal about it. “I know you never cared for them, but I didn’t think leaving a pack of cigarettes on your grave was very tasteful.” You bitterly smiled to yourself at the memories of your mom sneaking a cigarette in the backyard when she thought you were asleep. It was a nasty habit you did everything to rid her of. A fruitless attempt to protect her from the inevitable. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t figured out your epitaph yet. It’s just so hard to condense your entire life into a few words. Plus, they charge by the letter, so I’m trying to be really selective.” It felt weird, speaking into empty space, but you read online that it helped with grief, so you tried anyway. 

That was how you approached most things nowadays. Eating, drinking, sleeping, they all seemed meaningless. But, you knew you couldn’t survive on just antagonism and mourning, so you did it anyway. 

“Zayne called again. I know you told me not to hate him and that it wasn’t his fault, but I can’t bring myself to agree.” 

The moment Zayne told you that the heart that could save your mother’s life was going to someone else replayed in your mind like a scratched vinyl stuck on an aggravating note.

“I got so frustrated by his constant calls that I threw my phone into the ocean.” You let out a sad laugh. “Guess that’s the last time I bring anything with me when I’m walking along the coast.” 

You paused for a moment, feeling stupid. But you had so much to say to her, it all just began spilling out.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but I might lose the house. I burned through all my paid leave, and the idea of going back to work for Sylus makes me want to put my head through a wood-chipper. I know I have to, but how can I focus on work when I have nothing left to work for?” You tasted the tears before you felt them, the saltiness reminded you of your weekends at the beach with your mom. You did everything to get out of joining her, you hated the beach, but it was her favourite place to be and in a desperate attempt to cling on to whatever was left of her, you forced it to be yours too.

“I’m sorry I never got you that house you dreamed of, or the dog. I’m sure there are lots of dogs in heaven, and at least the dogs there have been screened. With my luck any dog I would’ve gotten you would’ve been evil.” You teetered around the grievance you truly wanted to apologise for. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t spend much time with you before you passed away. I was so sure you would get the transplant. I tried so hard to save for it. I should’ve been with you. If I knew—” The sobs raked through you with a force that knocked the air out of your lungs. You sat down next to her tombstone, leaning your head against the chiseled rock. 

There were moments when you’d wake up, and in the haze of your muddled mind you’d forget she was dead. But then the ache in your body is deciphered by your mind, and you’re reminded of just how much you’ve lost. Maybe that’s why they called it mourning. Grief dawned on you like the rising sun.

Life had a way of being entirely unfair, and there was nowhere to hide from fate’s piercing claws. And as if to ensure you hadn’t forgotten just how cruel life could be, your head whipped around at the sound of footsteps behind you to find the last person you wanted to see.

Sylus was dressed in a long black coat hanging effortlessly off of his broad shoulders, a black dress shirt that really should’ve been buttoned up to the top, and a pair of black slacks that made his long legs look impossibly longer. He looked every bit the cunning grim reaper, and it wasn’t just because he was surrounded by graves.

“I didn’t know you were back in the N109 Zone.” The words came out harsher than you intended as your head returned to it’s position against the rock. 

Sylus stopped in front of you, lowering himself to his haunches so that you would be face-to-face. It stung to look at him, so you focused on picking at the grass instead. 

“I only got back a few hours ago. I heard about your mother. I’m sorry.” Having been deprived of his voice for over a month, you cursed the butterflies that coursed through you like muscle memory. Part of you wished he’d returned disfigured, but you knew it wouldn’t have made much of a difference. Ugly or devastatingly beautiful, the storm that was Sylus could not be stopped, only weathered. 

“Sorry that she died or sorry that you weren’t there?” The bitterness in your tone was unfamiliar to you. Even though you knew it was unfair of you to expect him to have stayed, he left immediately after he dropped you off at the hospital and you hoped he’d have been there just a little longer. It didn’t help that you didn’t hear from him until two weeks later, and by then you were too engrossed in your battle against Akso hospital’s medical board to respond. 

“You haven’t been answering my calls; they’re not even going through anymore. You haven’t blocked me, have you?” Sylus countered your question with one of his own. If you cared enough, you might’ve called him out on his diversion. 

“No, my phone broke.” That was an understatement if there ever was one. 

“How long ago?”

“A week.” That much was true and since you couldn’t afford a smart phone, a shitty $30 flip phone weighed down your pocket. 

“And all the times I called before then?” Sylus’s eyes perused you with intensity, and you suddenly felt self-conscious. You weren’t dressed well, in a pair of black sweatpants that were too big on you and a matching hoodie. Grieving people were allowed to dress terribly without judgement, Y/N. It’s okay.

“I didn’t feel like picking up.” The grass continued to bare the brunt of your nerves as you answered. The you that wasn’t effectively an orphan would’ve made up some excuse to protect his feelings, but you were resolved to change that. Your mother was strong, independent, and she never backed down from a fight. Not against men like Sylus, and not against her illness. If you wanted to honour her memory then you had to live your life the way she’d want you to.

“Do you have a phone now?” 

You reached into the pocket of your sweatpants to take out the grey flip phone. You watched as Sylus bit back a laugh.

“I’ll get you a new one.”

“I don’t need you to get me anything.” You quickly retorted.

“You’re going to need a phone from this century if you’re working for me, Y/N.” He said it so casually, as if you were put on this earth solely to serve him as his accountant. 

“Right, about that…” Your determination to be confident and unapologetic began to dwindle as you wondered how to tell Sylus you needed more time.

“No. Resigning is not an option.” Twelve minutes. It took Sylus twelve minutes to return to his usual controlling self. You were impressed, truly, it was a new record after all. 

“We don’t have a blood pact, Sylus. I can resign if I want to. Besides, that’s not what I was going to say. I need more time off.” You didn’t sound very convincing, but it wasn’t like you could change who you were overnight. It would take a lifetime to unlearn your bad habits. 

Sylus looked conflicted, as if he didn’t know what to say. When he chose to finally open his mouth, you wished he hadn’t.

“I’ve given you a month, Y/N. That’s enough.” His statement came out so matter-of-factly, you wondered if you had imagined it. A month was not nearly enough to recover from losing your mom, but you figured a man who killed people for a living wouldn’t understand. 

“It’s only been two weeks since she died. And I’m sure the temp you’ve got is perfectly competent.”

“The temp doesn’t know the company like you do and I haven’t bothered teaching him on the premise that you were returning. If you’re not back soon I can’t promise you’ll have a job to come back to.” 

The tension in the air dissipated as you began to laugh. Loudly. Obnoxiously. Hysterically. 

“You— You seriously think I care whether or not I have a job? I can barely will myself to eat right now—employment is not my priority.” You wiped back the tears that began to spill out. Their origin unknown, between your hysteria and sorrow, your eyes were constantly puffy.

“People die all the time, sweetheart. It’s no reason to throw your future away.” Sylus stood up straight at the end of his statement, holding his hand out to you. 

The angel on your shoulder whispered that in his own peculiar way, this was his attempt at comforting you. But you stopped listening to that angel when they buried your mom under six-feet of dirt, and you couldn’t help the word vomit that escaped you like water barrelling out of a splintered dam. 

You pushed away his hand, and stood up to look at him with a ferocity you didn’t know you possessed.

“I get that something really dark and twisted must have happened in your youth to make you so heartless, but most people have shitty childhoods, sweetheart. We choose not to be terrible, insufferable people because of it.” The unbridled rage you’d spend so long trying to suppress seeped out of you uncontrollably as you screamed at Sylus. You walked toward him, your anger taking hold of you as you began to push him away. A few months ago you would’ve given anything to touch him, now all you cared about was making him feel a semblance of the pain he instilled in you. 

“Some of us choose to feel our emotions in their entirety, regardless of how much it hurts, because we’re not scared to love and lose. You’re a coward, Sylus and you may think that my mother dying is just an inevitable consequence of life, but my world will never be the same.” In an attempt to calm down, you took a deep breath.

“You can judge me all you want, but it won’t change the fact that when you die, no one will mourn you.” The word vomit continued, and when you saw the hurt flash briefly within his eyes, you felt the arms of regret begin to sink their claws into you. 

You shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t you.

But before you could take it all back, Sylus’s phone began ringing and you figured from the urgency in which he answered it must’ve been her. 

“I lost track of time, I’ll be right there.” He spoke in a low voice in what you could only assume was an attempt to mask the fact that he was leaving you for something more important, again. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

“Just go.” You waved him off and turned back around to face your mother’s grave, though now the tears welling up in your eyes couldn’t be entirely attributed to the grief. 

Early November

You weren’t sure time could heal the gaping wound your mother’s passing left behind, but grief had settled into your life like an imposing aunt. It was in your home, touching your things, ruining your food, and never once leaving you alone. It didn’t feel so all-consuming anymore, but it clung onto you constantly like a shadow. 

You were watching the third Harry Potter movie at 8am when you received the eviction notice via Email. You’d been expecting it, ultimately you were behind on rent, but the reason plastered on the paper was exponentially worse than your own incompetence.

…Selling to developers…suburban expansion project…

As if losing your childhood home wasn’t bad enough, they were planning on destroying it. Memories were bound to decay with time, that was an inevitable consequence of being human. Sooner or later you’d forget the way your mom dressed, or the smell of her perfume. Tangible things like photographs, places, they kept those memories anchored. You couldn’t lose the house, it wasn’t an option. 

You spent the next hour trying to reason with your landlord over the phone, but he was committed to selling. He rejected every single one of your proposals, though even you knew they were weak at best. The developers were offering significantly more than market value, there was no way you could beat that. Stupid gentrification. But, your landlord told you he was sympathetic, and the deal hadn’t been finalised just yet. If you could match the developer’s offer by the end of the month, he’d gladly sell it to you instead.

Of course the developer’s offer was $800,000, and by the looks of your financials, you were about $796,312 short. 

Desperate for a catharsis for your unending frustration, you screamed into the throw pillow on your couch until your throat felt raw. Then, you opened up your laptop to figure out a plan. 

30 minutes later you had:

Sell your kidney to an organ broker and use the money to get a loan from any dodgy bank that would accept your mediocre credit score. 

Dabble briefly in prostitution and use the money to get a loan from any dodgy bank that would accept your mediocre credit score.

Become a squatter and protest the demolition of your home environmental-activist style. 

“Wow, Y/N. Graduated top of your class and this was all you could come up with, huh?” You muttered to yourself as you stared at the list of terrible ideas. Your mind hadn’t come up with something so horrific since the bed-in-breakfast Mother’s Day fiasco when you were 11. 

The only option that didn’t end in bodily harm or a prison sentence was to work as many jobs as humanly possible for the next few weeks in hopes you could somehow manage to accumulate the deposit for a loan. You could probably sell some appliances too, and maybe revisit the kidney idea if it came to it. 

Despite it being a long-shot, you had to try. You changed into a pair of flared leggings and a sweater. It was basic and borderline mismatched but traversing your explosive closet was a large undertaking you tended to avoid. You dug a copy of your old resume out from your file drawer, after all, it wasn’t like your experience as Onychinus’s accountant was going to do you any good. Further, listing Sylus as a reference would ensure you never got a job again. 

You figured the easiest place to start was the central district of the N109 zone, bars and restaurants there were constantly hiring and from what you’d heard their only requirement was that you had two functioning legs and arms. But when you tried to leave through the door to begin the job search you collided with a formidable wall. 

Since when was there a—

“Where you headed to, Y/N?” The familiar voice was so surprising it made you jump, the action accompanied by a shrill scream.

“What the fuck? Why are you just standing outside my door?” You rarely ever swore and you were sure that if your mother was still alive she’d throw her shoe at you for using the devil’s language. But of all the things you expected to see that morning, Sylus outside your door was not one of them. 

“Is that any way to welcome your old employer?” Sylus stepped into your home without an invitation. Conclusive proof against your theory that he was secretly a vampire. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked again, still staring at Sylus like he sprouted a second head. You couldn’t think of a single reason why he’d show up at your place of residence, he never did while you were still his employee.

“I need you to come back.” You choked back a laugh at his ridiculous request. Was he insane?

“Go to hell.” Your vicious response didn’t sway Sylus. 

“I’ve fired an accountant every week since you left. The accounts are in complete disarray, half my businesses are behind on their bills, the other half have been paying the wrong amounts to the wrong companies. My investors are unhappy, my debtors are one week away from assuming I’ve gone bankrupt and I haven’t slept in weeks. Come. Back.” While it stroked your ego to hear that the organisation was suffering in your absence, you couldn’t just forget the terrible way he’d treated you in and out of the workplace. 

“You insisted I was especially replaceable and now you’re saying you can’t replace me?” You chose to remind him of just how horrid of an employer he was, an action he didn’t appreciate. 

“If you’re going to dwell on the semantics I’d rather just cut to the chase. What’s it going to take to get you back?” Sylus’s tone suggested he was truly trying to negotiate with you. Of course a man like him didn’t know how to take no for an answer. 

“Pigs to fly.” You quipped, opening your door in hopes he’d get the hint and leave. 

“Y/N, I’m serious. We can’t survive without you.” His desperation went straight to your head, but you stood your ground. 

“Then die.” You tried to shove him out of your doorway, but he was about as easy to move as a truck. 

“Everyone has something they desire, sweetheart. Name your price.” While you were ready to fire up a quick retort, his suggestion reminded you of the very reason you were about to leave the house. 

Perhaps this was a sign; you could swallow your pride if it meant you got to keep your home. 

You pretended to give it thought, sighing loudly in contemplation. “Fine. I want a sign-on bonus. Or in this case, a re-sign-on bonus, I guess…” You trailed off, unsure if he would agree. 

“Alright, how much?” He was quick to accept your terms, and you decided to test the waters of just how desperate he was for your return. 

“A million dollars.” 

“Done.” 

Dammit, you should’ve asked for more. 

“I want a personal driver too, I’m sick of biking to work.” You would’ve been okay with just the bonus, after all, it was insanely generous. But you’d be a fool not to milk this opportunity for what it was worth.

“Anything else, princess?” The condescending nickname only added fuel to the fire as you fired off more requests. 

“I don’t want to share my office with the twins anymore, they’re loud and annoying and they have no respect for the sanctity of my monthly budgets.”

“Okay.”

You masked your shock at his sudden magnanimity. “One last thing. Since you’ve come to the realisation that I am, in fact, a valuable asset to your organisation, you’re not allowed to be a dick to me anymore.” 

“Elaborate.”

“No more calling me stupid or other degrading insults, threatening my job security, threatening my life — just no more threats in general — and if you’re going to assign me extra work that is beyond the scope of my job description, a please and thank you would be nice.”

“You’re pushing it, Y/N.” Of course treating his employees like human beings was the most difficult request. 

“You just agreed to give me a million dollars and being nice to me is where you draw the line?” 

Sylus sighed, deliberating in silence for a moment. When he saw that your resolve was unrelenting, he begrudgingly agreed. He wasn’t sure where your newfound confidence was coming from, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t find it the slightest bit attractive. 

“Alright, you’ve made your case. I’ll agree to your conditions. Now, please fix it.” 

It took every fibre of your being not to break out into song and dance at your victory. “Let me get my coat.”

______________

You stared at the horrific mess your beautiful spreadsheet had turned in to. This was a disaster. A colossal, unfathomable disaster. “How could you let it get this bad?” Your voice was dripping with fear, it was like staring a train wreck. 

“It wasn’t like it happened on purpose. Besides, if you’d never—” Sylus interrupted his own sentence which you were sure contained an insult, and you could almost hear the evil chuckle resounding in your head at the sight of his obedience. This was going to be fun. 

“This is going to take forever to fix.” It would actually only take the day, but you didn’t need to tell him that.

“I need it fixed by the end of the week. Please.” He looked pained as he added the nicety. Soooooo much fun.

“Add on a massage chair for my office and I’ll get it done by Wednesday.” You wondered just how far you could push his desperation. 

“Deal.” He held his hand out for you to shake and when you did, you felt a strange sense of accomplishment. Now you could tell people ‘How to Tame Your Dragon’ was loosely based on your life. 

“You know, Sylus, I’m liking this new dynamic.” Your shit-eating grin couldn’t be wiped off of your face no matter how hard you tried.

“Oh I can tell. Now, get to work.” Sylus made a show of pulling out your office chair for you, and when you sat in it for the first time in two months, you felt an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. And for once, the recollection of your past didn’t hurt as much as it usually did.  

Mid-November

This time around, your employment under Sylus was much more pleasant. Surprisingly, he’d actually adhered to your conditions. 

The twins were slightly offended that you no longer wanted to share your office with them, but their gratefulness for your return trumped any antagonism they had for you. You were kind of a celebrity in Onychinus’s executive team, their saviour, if you will. 

But, the enjoyment of your newly established status could not be savoured. Undoing months of mistakes was turning out to be positively exhausting. You were an accountant; socially awkward, stuck to her Excel sheets, spent most of her free time indulging in shitty rom-coms. You were not built for briefing CEOs, Chairmen, investors, subsidiaries and of course, debtors, on your commitment to stability via video call.

Sylus insisted it had to be you, even though he usually handled the bureaucratic part of the organisation. Something about him not being able to answer their questions regarding the numbers. You told him you would tell him what to say through an ear piece like a spy movie, but he responded with a resounding no. 

It was more like ‘hell will freeze over before I turn into a glorified puppet, Y/N, blah blah blah’.

Every single one-on-one conference call made you feel like you were getting hives. Not to mention the active effort it took you to refrain from making stupid jokes at every opportunity. When the last one with the representative from Onychinus’s main bank was over, you had officially smoothed over all bad blood between Onychinus and it’s stakeholders.

Giving yourself a moment to recalibrate from the sheer amount of social interaction you had been subjected to, you glared at the shared calendar event. ‘Miss Hunter’s Birthday in 13 days’.

You tried to distract yourself from that familiar sinking feeling in your gut with your work. Sylus never remembered your birthday, but it wasn’t like it mattered. You were his accountant, he was your boss. That was the extent of your relationship, even though you’d both said things to each other that would cause your HR department, if you had one, to self-emulate. But in the chaos of buying your home, going back to work and learning how to navigate life with your unwanted companion; grief, you’d forgotten all about your feelings for Sylus.

They weren’t gone but they were muted, like a voice screaming out to you while your head was underwater. Most of the time they were easy to ignore, but in times like these they were too loud to overlook.

You couldn’t dwell on your self-pity for long because there was a knock at your door. No one ever knocked on your door, people just tended to barge in.

“Come in?” Confusion dripped from your voice. When the door opened to a pair of twins with shameful smiles, you knew they were about to ask you for a favour.

“We… fucked up.” Three words you never wanted to hear coming out of either Luke or Kieran’s mouth.

“What have you done?”

“Long story short. Boss sent us to pick up a gem for Miss Hunter’s birthday. It’s really rare. The man who owns them is this older, heart of gold type old guy who refuses to sell to nefarious people because of his outdated principles. He wouldn’t give it to us, said something about us being part of Onychinus. We knew if boss didn’t get this gem today he’d have our heads displayed on mantels in his office, so we threatened the old man with a gun and then an entire arsenal of security appeared out of thin air and we were blacklisted from the property.” Kieran’s explanation left you astounded. 

The twins had their fair share of asinine mistakes, but this one might have taken the cake. 

“You threatened an old man with a gun…” 

“Yes.” Kieran responded. 

“Over a gem?” You asked in disbelief. 

“A very rare gem!” Luke corrected. 

“Huh. How am I supposed to help?” It was a genuine question, you didn’t really see a way out of this one. 

“Can you go and convince the old man to sell the gem to you?” Kieran’s request made your eyes widen in protest.

“No way! I’ve had my fill of uncomfortable business meetings.” And wasn’t that the truth. If you had to see one more man in a business suit ask you ‘if you even knew what you were talking about’ you might throw your laptop into the first body of water you could find. 

“Please, Y/N. Sylus will kill us. Do you want our deaths to hang over your conscience?” 

Luke’s question was an innocent hyperbole, but at the mention of deaths hanging over your conscience, you were reminded of your mom. Your face dropped, your fingers slowly forgetting what they were supposed to type. Kieran, the more observant twin, elbowed Luke.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m sorry, I forgot.”

“No, no, it’s fine. You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me, I’m not going to burst into tears.” You weren’t sure that was true quite yet, but fake it till you make it, right? 

“Will you help us? Please. We’ll owe you big time.” The line was clearly rehearsed since they said it in unison, or maybe it was some weird twin telepathy thing. Either way, it freaked you out so much you agreed. 

“Fine, what’s the address?”

_____________

You knocked on the large wooden door of a beautiful home. It was classically designed, a perfect intersection between modernity and the timeless complexity of archaic house designs. It was rare to see homes like these in a society that prided itself on progress. 

When you heard the sound of soft feet shuffling toward the door, you felt the guilt eat at you internally. You were tricking an old man into selling a gem to people he very reasonably did not want to sell to.

“Y/M/N?” 

Did he— why did he call you by your mother’s name?

“That was my mother, I’m her daughter, Y/N.”

“Oh, thank god, I was beginning to think I’d finally lost it. Come in, come in.” 

Your interest had been piqued, and you forgot all about the gem as you entered the old man’s home.

“I must say, I’m surprised you’re here. Did your mother send you?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “She passed away just over a month ago.”

“Oh god. I’m so sorry, dear. Are you alright?” The question was filled with so much warmth it made tears well up in your eyes. Your mother never had any friends, and you were estranged from your extended family. You were all alone in your grief, and hearing someone who knew your mom in some capacity ask you if you were alright felt bittersweet.

“Yeah. I’m doing okay. If you don’t mind me asking, how did you know her?”

“You don’t know? I figured that was why you were here.” 

Right. The reason you were here, the gem.

“No, I’m actually here entirely coincidentally, I came to acquire a gem.”

“Which gem were you after, dear?” He asked the question as he looked around his living room for something.

“The Painite one.”

He stopped pacing and turned to you with an accusatory stare. “This wouldn’t happen to be related to those two rowdy boys who came by earlier, right?”

“Well…” You couldn’t lie to him. He looked like the old man from ‘Up’, it was entirely unfair. 

“I’m afraid I can’t sell to you. I’m concerned you’ve even gotten yourself wrapped up in such a terrible organisation.” He shook his head, his disappointment evident in his tone. 

“Look, I know what you’ve heard, but most of the rumours you hear about Onychinus don’t have a modicum of truth to them.”

“Then why hasn’t your boss cleared them up?” A great question. 

“In this business its good to have a reputation that instills fear in others. You’ve seen what people do for Protocores and black-market items. Onychinus serves as a… regulatory body of the underworld, the only people they harm are those that harm others.” The practiced speech came from years of listening to Sylus give it to yourself and others. 

“I don’t know dear, I’ve heard some horrific things about their leader, Sylus.” You were probably responsible for a few of those rumours…

“The only horrific thing about him is his sharp tongue. Seriously, he has a way of finding your worst insecurity and then using it to drag you through the dirt.” Recognising the unhelpful tangent, you digressed.

“But when it comes to business, he’s fair and when someone hurts the people he cares about, he’s merciless. He has a good heart, it’s just encased under a very thick layer of stone.” When he didn’t look convinced, you continued. 

“In fact, he wants this gem for a woman. She’s special to him and its her birthday in a few days. She’s a hunter, by the way, she saves lives. So, even if you don’t want to sell to Sylus because he’s probably half demon, you should sell it to her. You know, by proxy.” The argument was a stretch but you couldn’t help your rambling. 

“You are the spitting image of your mother.” 

The comment caught you off-guard.

“You think so?”

“I knew your mother when she was your age. She used to sing live at a bar I frequented with my friends. It was a simpler time, before wanderers attacked. I was head over heels in love with her, and I knew she felt the same way about me. But, she got wrapped up with the wrong guy, a real bad man, and it took finding out she was pregnant with you to break it off with him.” He recounted his past as he continued to search his drawers for something, when he came back to the couch in front of yours, he handed you a photo.

It was of your mother, except she was much younger. She was on a stage performing, a part of her life she never told you about. She looked happy and was glowing with the kind of ethereal beauty that never dwindled with time. He was right, you looked a lot like her. 

“Can I keep this?” You looked up at the man, and he gave you a small nod. 

“Of course. You know, I offered to help her when I found out, said I’d raise the baby as my own, but she told me I was destined for more than she could give me. Said she had to do this on her own. She was stubborn but she loved boundlessly, Y/N, just like you.”

You were confused, this man hadn’t known you for very long, how could he know such a thing? “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know what that Sylus man has done to deserve your adoration, but I can tell you love him. And for you to come here on his behalf to convince me to sell him the rarest gem in the world for another woman? You truly do have your mother’s heart.” 

His words sprouted doubt and introspection. Why were you trying so hard to get Sylus such a romantic gift when it was meant for someone else? Were you secretly a masochist?

“If it’s alright with you Y/N, I’d love to get to know you. Your mother was my first love, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to about her.” 

You gave him the sincerest smile you could come up with. “I’d like that. I don’t really have anyone to talk to about her either.”

“As for the gem, I’ll sell it to you but only if you promise to love a man who will go to these lengths for you, not someone else.” 

“I promise.” You’d promise to try, at least. You told the man, who you now knew was Dr Jeffery Hunt the geologist, that you needed to get back to work. You exchanged contact information with a promise to catch up later and trade stories about your mom. 

You left the house with the rarest gem in the world in one hand, and an infinitely more valuable picture of your mother in the other. 

___________

You walked toward your office where Luke and Kieran should have been to find the door slightly ajar. You stopped just outside the door when you heard Sylus’s voice from inside your office.

“You sent Y/N to get the gem? Was the task too difficult for the two of you?” You tried to sympathise with the twins, but it was kind of funny to see Sylus berate someone else for once.

“The owner said he wouldn’t sell to Onychinus—” Kieran’s attempt at an explanation was shot down instantly.

“So you pick some random person off the street and send them in instead. You don’t send the girl the gem is for to go retrieve her own present. You have completely ruined the surprise.”

Wait, what?

“No, it’s fine, we sent Y/N not Miss Hunter.”

“Miss Hun— why would you assume it’s for her?” The question hung in there for an uncomfortable moment, after all you assumed the same thing. 

“Her birthday’s in a few days.” Luke timidly added. 

“How do you know that?” 

“It’s in the shared calendar.”

“Fuck.” 

With your ear plastered shamelessly against the door, you smiled to yourself. He had a bad habit of putting personal events in the shared calendar.

“The gem was for Y/N. Thanks to you imbeciles I have to figure something else out.” 

Why was the gem for you? Was it poisonous? You started down at the velvet box in your hand and wondered if the gem was secretly a teeny tiny bomb. 

“Is it Y/N’s birthday soon too?” Kieran’s question offended you. Your birthday was in March and both he and Luke were at your celebratory birthday dinner last year. 

“No, that’s in March. It’s to celebrate her 3rd year with Onychinus. Although now I’m wondering if your time here has come to an end.” It was kind of sadistic, but it was comforting to know that Sylus threatened other people’s job security over minor inconveniences too. 

“No! Please, we promise we’ll make it up to you.” 

You stopped listening to the conversation as you opened the box in your hand. The gem glistened under the artificial lights as questions fired off in your brain. He wanted to give this gem to you? How did he even remember the day you started at Onychinus? And he knew your birthday?

Before you could search for the answers, the sound of footsteps approaching the door made you panic. You tried fruitlessly to escape the long hallway but Sylus stormed out before you could.

“I um, got that gem for you.” You pretended you weren’t eavesdropping and held the gem out to him, but he pushed it back toward you. 

“Thanks. I was going to have it turned into a necklace, but since the cat’s out of the bag, you can decide what to do with it.” He clearly knew you’d heard everything and gave the twins a pointed glare as they scurried out of your office. 

“It’s really too much. Most employers get their employees a gift card or something.” You tried to hand it back again, but he was unrelenting. 

“I’m not most employers, and you definitely aren’t most employees.” The loaded compliment made you bite back a smile. 

“In that case, a necklace would be nice. I have a photo of my mom when she was my age, she wore a necklace with a similar looking gem. Do you think you could find someone who can copy the design? It would mean a lot. I’d pay for it, of course.” You kept the photo in your wallet now, it quickly became one of your favourites. When you passed the photo to him, he looked at it for far longer than necessary. 

“Consider it done, and your money’s no good with me. Save it for something else.” He paused for a moment, took a photo of the necklace on his phone and returned the photograph. “I see where you get your beauty from.” The comment was so nonchalant and inconsistent with Sylus’s usual dialogue that you were left speechless. Your heart battered against your ribcage as if it were trying to escape and mount itself onto him instead. Traitorous organ. 

You watched him turn around and walk toward his office. The sight of him walking away from you brought back memories of that day in the graveyard and what you’d said to Sylus before he left. 

“You can judge me all you want, but it won’t change the fact that when you die, no one will mourn you.”

The guilt was eating away at your conscience, and you knew you had to let him know that you didn’t mean what you said. Especially not now. 

“Sylus, wait.” He stopped just as his hand reached the doorknob of his office door and looked up at you expectantly.

You raked your mind for the right thing to say, and Sylus didn’t make a sound as you prolonged the silence. 

“If you died, I’d mourn you.” And you meant it. You maintained eye contact despite the urge to look away from his intense gaze in an attempt to convey your sincerity. 

He shook his head with a slight chuckle in response, and walked into his office wordlessly. 

You figured he hadn’t given what you said a second thought. It was foolish to think you could ever hurt the impenetrable Sylus’s feelings. You weren’t even sure he had feelings. 

But, unbeknownst to you, when Sylus closed the door behind him, he felt himself let out a breath that alleviated a pressure in his chest he didn’t know he’d been carrying. What you’d said to him in the graveyard weighed on him like an uncomfortable tumour. 

Sylus knew you were right, but the idea of no one caring for him never bothered him before, not until you said it. It dawned on him that the only person who’s idea of him actually affected how he thought of himself was yours. 

Late-November

“Finish up, we have a reservation at six.” At the sound of your boss’s  voice, you looked up from your computer screen. Your eyes were watery from staring at the ledger for hours but you still couldn’t reconcile the $15.70 that was missing. It was driving you insane.

“Was there a meeting I forgot existed?” The calendar looked empty from where it stood on your second monitor. Well, it was empty now that Sylus deleted the shared calendar event for Miss Hunter’s birthday which should’ve been yesterday. 

“No, it’s just us. I’m taking you to dinner. Now hurry up.” You couldn’t help the frown on your face. There was surely an ulterior motive. 

“Taking me to dinner? Are you asking me out on a date?” You were teasing; hell would freeze over before Sylus would ask anyone out on a date. Though, maybe he already had, after all he was busy yesterday…

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re celebrating your third year with Onychinus. As an employer I believe rewarding long-term employees can strengthen their loyalty to the company.” He regurgitated the words like they were toxic. 

“You stole that from the last issue of Forbes magazine. I would know since I was the one who gave you the article.” It was titled ‘Ten foolproof ways to make your employees like you’ and you thought it would be funny to leave it on Sylus’s desk. 

“And I’m responding to your feedback like number 4 on that list suggested. Now, do you want to go to this dinner or should I ask someone else?” 

You quickly scrambled out of your seat, you couldn’t miss out on a chance to see Sylus actively try to be a regular boss. Who could say no to dinner and a show?

“No, no, I’ll go.” You grabbed your bag off of the floor and followed Sylus out of the building. You asked him a series of questions about where you were going, when you’d be back, if you were getting paid for the time you were forced to spend with him, but he answered none of them. 

Sylus was driving for all of 2 minutes before you began to draft an appreciation letter to the inventor of seatbelts in your head. 

“You know, you may be harder to kill than a regular person, but I will die if you crash this car.” Pleading for your life in an expensive sports car was not how you expected to go. 

“It’s a little early in the night for your theatrics, Y/N.” Sylus’s deadpan tone did nothing to soothe your concerns as he turned yet another sharp corner with aggressive speed. 

“It’s also a little early in my life to die.” You unhelpfully added.

“Relax, will you? I’ve never crashed before.” 

Well, there’s a first time for everything. You thought as you tightly gripped the handle of the door. You found yourself suddenly missing the middle-aged man who would grouchily drive you to and from work. At least he drove like he valued his life. 

 _______

When you arrived to the place in one piece you felt severely under dressed. Sylus was wearing his regular attire, a suit without the tie, and you were dressed in linen pants and a turtleneck. Sylus never enforced a business dress code, though in that moment you found yourself wishing he did.

The restaurant was multi-level and sat at the top of a mountain. The exterior screamed affluence and you were sure everyone who dined there was in a different tax-bracket. Sylus reserved a table on the rooftop which unfortunately meant you had to ascend four levels in your mediocre outfit that made you stick out like a sore thumb. 

When you eventually reached your table, you quickly hid in your seat. While it was unrealistic to assume anyone would pay you any attention but your embarrassment was usually irrational. Nor, did it help that Sylus naturally made heads turn wherever he went. He was freakishly tall and unnervingly handsome; next to him anyone struggled to look attractive.

“You’re in a rush. Hungry?” Sylus asked across from you as you buried your face in the menu. You didn’t feel like explaining how being out with him made you feel insecure, so you forewent a response. 

The waiter quickly returned with a bottle of wine. Of course Sylus’s favourite wine was known universally. Why wouldn’t it be? He practically ruled the N109 Zone.

“Thanks, she’ll have a mojito.” Before you could tell the waiter not to bring you your favourite cocktail, he was gone.

“I’m not drinking.” Your protest fell on deaf ears. “Drinking with your boss is like number 1 on the list of things you shouldn’t do if you value your job.”

“You don’t have to worry about embarrassing yourself in front of me, Y/N. You’ve done that plenty of times sober.” Sylus smirked as he made the dry joke and you held back the urge to step on his foot under the table.

Never mind. You needed a drink pronto.

“Asshole.” You muttered under your breath.

“What was that?”

“Artichokes! I said the artichoke salad looks good.” You could tell Sylus wasn’t convinced, but he dropped the matter anyway. 

“Order whatever you’d like.” 

“There’s no prices on the menu.” You flipped it around every which way but not a single price appeared.

“Sweetheart, the people who can afford to dine here aren’t too concerned with prices. Don’t worry and order what you wish.”

Aw, how sweet. Sylus thought you enquired about the prices because you were concerned about overspending. As if. You knew that man’s financials inside and out, if anything, you wanted to order the most expensive things on the menu. 

“Jeez, my bad Mr One-Percent.” Your joke was not well received.

“Can we have one night without your incessant sarcasm?” The plea sounded genuine, but it was denied. 

“We could, but that’s no fun.”

“I find you painfully unfunny, Y/N.” You smiled to yourself at his blatant lie. Everyone found you funny. 

Before you could think of a retort, Sylus pulled out a large velvet box and slid it toward you on the table.

“What’s this?”

“The necklace.”

You opened it up eagerly and the sight of it brought pure bliss to your heart. It was exactly like the one your mother wore, and it was even more beautiful in person.

“It’s perfect. Thank you.” Feeling slightly remorseful for your attitude prior to the gift-exchange, you gave him a sheepish smile.

Sylus watched you lift it up to put it on, but quickly interjected. “Allow me.” He stood up, walking toward your seat. Flushed, you clumsily turned around so your back was facing him. You felt goosebumps on your skin when his cold hands bunched your hair away from your neck, the tips of his fingers leaving a trail of wired nerves in their wake.

You took your hair from his hand to hold it up, the mere feeling of your fingers brushing his gave you heart palpitations. The act was way too intimate, and despite how it good it felt to have him so close, your brain knew it was safest to pray it would be over soon.

When Sylus was done he spun you around to face him and shamelessly observed his handiwork. “It looks good.” Your brain short-circuited the moment your eyes met his, so you sat in front of him in complete silence.

The moment was rudely interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice.

“Sylus? Y/N? Fancy seeing you here!” You both turned to the source of the voice to see Miss Hunter in a beautiful baby blue gown. As if you didn’t feel bad enough about your choice in attire. You began to smile until you noticed that the arm linked with hers belonged to your mortal enemy. Dr Zayne. 

You got up to greet them, despite your primal urge to push Zayne off the roof, but Sylus beat you to it. “Miss Hunter, always a pleasure.” You tried not to gag at the sight of Sylus being so gentlemanly. It became particularly hard when he kissed the top of her hand. 

“I didn’t know you knew Dr Zayne.” The comment slipped out of Sylus’s tense smile with a twinge of what you thought was hostility. Was he jealous that she was with Dr Zayne? Were you jealous that he was jealous? Are you in a soap opera?

“Oh, he’s a childhood friend andmy doctor! I’m very lucky. How do you know him?” Before you could whisper to Sylus to make up some excuse, he was firing off information about your personal life to the last two people you wanted to discuss your personal life with. 

“He was Y/N’s mother’s doctor.” Everyone went tense, everyone except for Miss Hunter, of course. 

Your eyes followed her as she turned to you, praying she wouldn’t ask about your mother’s health. Instead, she praised your nemesis. “He’s brilliant, isn’t he?”

You wanted to scream in protest. You wanted to swing a chair into Dr Zayne’s head, and then use the broken scraps to beat him to a pulp. But you opted to force a painful smile instead. 

“He’s definitely something.” You looked right at Zayne, hoping he’d understand the implications of your backhanded compliment.  

“Well, we were just here to celebrate my birthday yesterday, but the hostess said it was all booked out and silly Zayne forgot to make a reservation. We just came up to the rooftop to get some pictures, but you guys should enjoy your dinner!” Miss Hunter’s polite dismissal was the perfect opportunity to end the painfully awkward interaction and move on with your night. 

“Thanks.” You were about to return to your seat when Sylus decided to continue with his commitment to ruining your life.

“You guys should join us, the more the merrier, right Y/N?”

The question you had no idea how to answer only poked at the jar of pent up murderous rage you were trying to suppress. It wasn’t like you were subtle about your hatred for the Doctor, why the hell was Sylus inviting them to stay?

“Right.” You couldn’t have sounded less sincere if you tried, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You had to focus on making it out of this building without a homicide charge.

When Miss Hunter happily agreed, Sylus quickly waved down a waiter and made them transform your two-seater table into a four-seater. Unfortunately for you, the seating arrangements somehow ended up with you next to Zayne and Sylus next to Miss Hunter . 

Zayne could feel the hostility radiating off of you in waves, but he was too scared to do anything about it. 

“Happy birthday, by the way.” You offered Miss Hunter the nicety, since she was really the only innocent person at the table. Your unfounded hatred for her took the back-burner when Zayne was around. 

“Thanks, Y/N. I love your necklace, where did you get it?” Yet another question you didn’t know how to answer. If this was how the entire night was going to be you might as well cut your losses and take your chances with jumping off the roof.

“It’s um, custom made.” You avoided Sylus’s glare. 

“Well it’s beautiful.” You couldn’t help but smile at her compliment. Her sunshine-y attitude could rival yours. 

“Sylus knows the guy who made it, I’m sure he could get one for you too.” You glanced at him only to see him quirk an eyebrow at your response. Was he seriously mad? You were practically the world’s greatest wingwoman. 

When Miss Hunter turned to look at him, he quickly shut her down.  “He retired right after making that piece, actually. Something about getting arthritis.” 

He was definitely lying. You weren’t sure why he was gatekeeping this jeweller and you never got the chance to ask. 

“Oh, that’s unfortunate. Hey Zayne, you’ve been awfully quiet. Say something!” Miss Hunter gave him a playful push on the shoulder as she teased him. The sight would’ve been adorable if it weren’t for satan’s incarnate sitting inches away from you.

“Yeah Zayne, how was work? Steal anymore hearts lately?” You asked the deceivingly innocuous question while breaking apart a piece of bread. The double-entendre was like a secret you both shared; though the idea of sharing anything with that waste of space made you inscrutably angry. 

Sylus silently observed the interaction with curiosity. Your passive-aggressiveness was a trait he thought you only reserved for him. You were always nice, to everyone. Seeing you treat Zayne so coldly was like witnessing a beaver play the piano. It was unnatural. 

“Work went as well as expected.” Zayne’s clipped reply left no room for further discussion. The conversation came to do a lull, and you took it as the opportunity to excuse yourself to the bathroom. You immediately beelined away from the table that currently situated your nightmare blunt rotation and toward the women’s bathroom that was positively Zayne-free. 

The bathroom was just as extravagant as the rest of the restaurant but you didn’t get to admire it before you splashed water on your face in an attempt to cool down. There was no way you could last an entire dinner next to Zayne. Maybe you could say you were feeling sick. Probably a bad idea when he’s a doctor. Work emergency wasn’t plausible, your boss was at the table. What if you just ran away? You could live with the shame and embarrassment.

You looked up at the ceiling and silently cursed the heavens for your terrible luck. Seriously, you must’ve been a serial killer in your past life to deserve this fate. It was a never-ending series of unfortunate events, and you were desperate for a break. 

When you eventually left the bathroom, Zayne was standing right outside the door. He startled you, but the moment the shock wore off your face morphed into a deadly glare. 

“Look, I know you think I’m a terrible person but—”

“Monster is the term I’d use, but go on.” You rudely interrupted Zayne. He chose not to acknowledge your comment. 

“I rarely get to spend time with MC and I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t ruin her birthday dinner because of me.” It didn’t take long for you to realise that MC must’ve been Miss Hunter’s first name. 

Zayne ruined everything he touched, he needed no help from you. 

“I’m sorry, does the fact that I’m angry at you for letting my mother die put a damper in your dinner plans?”

“Yes it does, actually.” Zayne responded quickly. He either didn’t understand sarcasm or was an even bigger dick than you thought.

“Then might I suggest you take her someplace else. It’s your fault you couldn’t get a table here. Why should I have to suffer because your incompetence knows no bounds?” You couldn’t think of a time you’d insulted someone so much in such quick succession. Dr Zayne brought out the worst in you, but you could reflect on your actions later. Right now you were at war. 

“We are perfectly capable of having an amicable dinner.” 

You rolled your eyes at his condescending tone. “You might be, I’m not that mature.” 

“Y/N. We’re both adults.” He pleaded.

“Bite me.” 

Before Zayne could open his mouth again, Sylus interrupted.

“Everything all good here?” For once in your life, you were grateful for Sylus’s interruption. 

“No.” You said.

“Yes.” Zayne also said, at the exact same time.

“Zayne you should head back to the table. Miss Hunter's waiting for you.” Zayne didn’t think twice before taking the out and you internally flipped off his retreating form.

Sylus grabbed you by the forearm, his grip tight as he dragged you to a secluded part of the rooftop and away from the bathrooms. 

“What’s going on with you?” He asked the moment you stopped moving, his hand still gripping onto your arm like a vice. 

“Can you let go? You’re hurting me.” He quickly released you, his eyes washing over with something you couldn’t recognise as you soothed the part he’d rubbed raw. 

“Why are you acting so childish?” His question would've angered you had you not been angry already.

“I hate his guts.” The response did not help your case, but you weren’t very articulate when you were upset. 

“What did he do to you?” Sylus’s eyes narrowed, and he spoke in a low tone that was laced with danger. You didn’t think too much of his strange reaction, Sylus acting strange was pretty much the only consistent thing in your life lately. 

You gnawed on your lip, unsure of how to respond. Your grievance against the world-renowned doctor was one you’d always kept to yourself. After all, everyone had nothing but praise for the brilliant Dr Zayne. 

“Y/N, if he touched you I’ll—” Your eyes quickly widened in shock at his interpretation.

“No! Nothing like that. It’s just, a few days before my mom died, a heart came in that was a match. But there was this other guy who was younger and needed it just as badly. The policy was that the hospital's medical board would vote on who got the heart and the entire board, Zayne included, unanimously agreed that the heart should go to the other guy.” They said it wasn't personal, that it had everything to do with survival rates, but there was no way to detach personhood from medicine.

You realised that when you said it out loud, your hate seemed unfounded. “I know it wasn’t entirely his fault, but he didn’t even try to give my mom a fighting chance. He didn't say anything to sway them, he just silently agreed. He was supposed to be her advocate.” The frustration began to boil over, and before you knew it there were tears welling up in your eyes.

“God, I spent every last dollar of my paycheque to make sure she got the greatest medical care money could buy. Everyone said he was the best, but when it really mattered, he did nothing for her. I was such an idiot.” There was an uncontrollable fountain of tears streaming down your face, and you were grateful for Sylus’s decision to drag you to somewhere secluded. 

The familiar tendrils of an oncoming panic attack began to wash over you as you began to hyperventilate. No matter how much you wanted to blame Dr Zayne, or the universe, or your shitty luck, the only person you could really blame was yourself. You sent her to that hospital, you convinced her to hold on for a transplant, you spent her last months on this Earth slaving away in another city instead of by her side. There was no way to get that time back. 

“Y/N, look at me. It’s not your fault.” Sylus’s voice was like a beacon of light that led you through the dark tunnel you were trapped in. He cradled your face in his hands, wiping away your tears as they continued to stream down your face. But when your tears showed no signs of slowing, he pulled you into his arms, his hands holding your tear-stricken face against his chest.

He ran his long fingers through your hair as he whispered everything you wanted to hear. "It’s not your fault. It’s okay to hate him. It will get easier."

You weren’t sure how long you spent with your face buried in his chest, but by the time you’d returned to reality, his white dress shirt was slightly transparent where your tears soaked through the material. 

You laughed a little at the sight, and the corners of Sylus’s lips raised ever so slightly at the sound. When he saw you were okay, Sylus began to speak. “Don’t move. I’ll grab your bag and we’ll get out of here.”

Before he could leave you tugged on the sleeve of his suit jacket. “Hey, I’m sorry I ruined your dinner.” You truly were. Sylus did not deserve to be subjected to yet another one of your meltdowns, but he seemed to have a habit of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. 

“No it's my fault, I ruined it by inviting them to join us. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Sylus then manoeuvred through the restaurant toward the nightmare table. When he returned with your bag in one hand and the other outstretched toward you, your heart skipped a beat. Or two. He played the role of the knight-in-shining-armour quite seamlessly, and he looked every bit the handsome prince charming. You tried to remind yourself why it was so dangerous to be attracted to a force like Sylus, but when he smiled at you like you were the only two people in the room, all caution was thrown to the wind. 

_____________

In the spirit of making things up to you, you made Sylus take you to a restaurant of your choosing. It was a hole-in-the-wall dumpling place that charged so little one would question if they were serving real meat. But you never found better dumplings, so you took the risk anyway.

The dynamic was completely subverted as you sat on the table that was slightly sticky with cheap cleaning chemicals. Sylus was the one who looked out of place, his suit was unarguably the most expensive thing in the room and it brought joy to your miserable night to see him out of his comfort zone.

“How did you find this place?” The question was warranted, other than you two, the only other occupants in the restaurant were a few middle-schoolers.  

“I used to come here a lot with my friends in high school.”

“Did they all die from food poisoning?” Sylus seemed proud of his quick-witted joke. You gave him a pointed glare to convey just how unfunny that joke was. 

“Funny, but no. We just drifted apart after we graduated.” The clipped reply shut down any further inquiry. You thought back to the fond memories you had in that restaurant. Things were different when you didn’t yet know the cost of failure; before you knew what you’d be losing. And while everyone may have moved on from this small town in the N109 Zone, you never left. 

“Do you even have any friends?” You choked on your drink at the question. He was genuinely asking and the worst part was, you really didn’t.

Your constant struggle to make ends meet and maintain a high GPA for your academic scholarships made it impossible to have a social life. It didn’t help that you went to a college you couldn’t afford. It was hard to find people to relate to when everyone had grown up with silver spoons. Then after you graduated you landed at Onychinus, and it wasn’t exactly a friendly environment.

“Of course I have friends.” Your lie was a feeble attempt to preserve the last of your dignity. Sylus had seen you at your absolute worst, but there was something extremely dehumanising about letting him know you were insanely lonely.

“Really, who?” His genuine surprise only made your insecurity worse.

“You don’t have to sound so shocked. Plus, you wouldn’t know them.” 

“Try me.” Of course he wouldn’t drop it. When has Sylus ever let something go?

“Well, there’s Mr Demir, and Luke and Kieran, and my newly acquired friend Dr Hunt.” In a desperate attempt to keep up your lie, you pretty much just named all the people you knew. 

“Y/N, that’s the man who sells you your sandwiches, my assistants, and a geologist who sold you a gem.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that no one likes a know-it-all?” 

“I think you should get out more. Maybe tone down the sarcasm and you might just make a friend or two.” Your jaw-dropped in faux shock at his unsolicited advice.

“You’re one to talk, your best friend is a mechanical crow.” You snuck a dumpling off of his plate while he was distracted.

“I don’t need friends, they’re unnecessary burdens.” He took a swig of his beer. You thought he’d burst into flames if he drank anything other than red wine, but he adapted to his surroundings with little effort.

You put a hand on your heart as if in pain and jokingly gave him a solemn look.“Then why would you wish such a cruel fate onto me?”

“Because I hate seeing you this miserable, Y/N.” The amusement from your banter died a quick death at his confession. You thought you kept it together most of the time, though bawling your eyes out in the N109 Zone’s hottest restaurant probably didn’t do that facade any good. But for the most part, you handled the death of your mother relatively well. 

“I’m not miserable. Not all of the time at least. Like right now, I’m only mildly annoyed!” You tried to change the topic the only way you knew how, with humour, but Sylus wasn’t budging.

“You take care of everyone but yourself and all it’s done is isolate you. There needs to be a give and take, sweetheart. People don’t like feeling useless.” He spoke to you softly, as if he was scared the timbre of his voice would cause you to shatter into a million pieces. 

There was a sinking feeling in your stomach that followed his oddly specific guidance. He seemed to know more about you than you thought he did, and you were torn between feeling seen and feeling judged. 

“That’s sound advice. Guess you’ve been reading more magazines.” You were grasping at straws, willing to try anything to get the unwanted spotlight off of your inadequacies. 

“You also need to learn how to accept help without downplaying your problems.” 

“Okay, okay. You sound like my mother. Has her soul possessed you?” There you go Y/N. Play the dead mom card, that’ll work. 

He chuckled at your joke. You knew he found you funny.

“You don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“Yeah, the manufacturers didn’t include an off-switch. No refunds, sorry.” You stuffed a dumpling in your mouth as the tension subsided. 

“Oh, I’m not returning you, sweetheart. They’ll have to pry you from my cold dead hands.” While you knew he was probably referring to the value you brought his company as his accountant, you couldn’t stifle the butterflies that wreaked havoc in your stomach.

You didn’t move when Sylus’s car stopped outside your house. 

“Thanks for tonight, I had fun. Sorry it didn’t go to plan.” You turned to him after you unbuckled your seatbelt and the tight confines of the car felt even smaller.

“It’s fine, I liked this version of events better anyway.” His low voice reverberated through the small distance between you, nestling in your heart that was beating unhealthily fast. 

“Me too. Next time you take a girl to dinner you ought to let her know if she’s supposed to dress like she’s going to the met gala.” Your advice had a bitter undertone because part of you still wished you could be the only girl he’d take to dinner. 

“I usually do, but this particular girl doesn’t need a fancy dress to be the most beautiful girl in the room.” The candid compliment made the butterflies do summersaults, and while their gymnastics routine continued, you found yourself at a loss for words.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Sylus leaned over the centre console and opened the door for you, completing the chivalrous act of opening the door for you in his own unique fashion. He was so close, all it would take was one small move and his lips could’ve been on yours.

“Goodnight.” You barely got the word out through the sudden bout of breathlessness you were experiencing. And when you were finally encased in the familiar four walls of your home, you thought about every moment you shared with Sylus and how different he seemed from the man you knew before. 

The weekend passed by in a blur. The necklace that looked like a carbon copy of your mom’s was nestled on your neck. A permanent reminder that made ‘Operation Sylus: No More’ infinitely harder to achieve. 

Perhaps you shouldn’t have asked him to stop being a dick, because what you thought would be an easy feat was beginning to feel like climbing a mountain with a peak you couldn’t even see. 

You were staring at the list on your notes app on your brand new phone in hopes of searing it into your memory. 

Operation Sylus: No More

The foolproof guide of getting rid of all feelings Sylus related by the end of November. 

Step 1: avoid Sylus and all thoughts of him at all costs.

Step 2: no more funny jokes, his laugh is seriously deadly. 

Step 3: force yourself to remember Miss Hunter in moments of weakness. She’s the one he really wants. 

Step 4: try to find love elsewhere, like the corner shop owner, he may be in his 50s and happily married but he’s kind of a silver-fox!

Step 5: do not, under any circumstances, allow yourself to be alone with Sylus for too long.

You violated step 5 that Friday when you let him take you to dinner and you were reaping the consequences of your mistake. There was no way you could survive the free-fall if you couldn't get your heart to obey your mind. The disconnect between the two vital organs might be the thing that kills you.

When you heard something shatter in the hallway, you quickly put your phone down and went out to investigate.

The door opened to Mephisto standing on a side table where an empty vase used to sit. The vase was now on the floor in pieces in front of your feet. 

“You did this on purpose.” You pointed an accusing finger at the bird, but all he did was tilt his head to the side as if he couldn’t understand you. You knew he could understand you perfectly well.

The cold war between you two started in your first week at Onychinus when he would swoop at your head spontaneously for no reason. Sylus told you he did it to everyone he didn’t trust and that he’d be over it in due time, but you were too vindictive to let it slide. 

Several back-and-forth pranks later, the bird seemed to have remembered the tradition you managed to forget. “If this is your way of saying you miss me then you take an awful lot after your owner.” Your words faded as you made your way to the kitchen to find the broom. However, upon your return you saw that the floor was flawless and the door to your office was closed.

You rushed in with unparalleled speed to see your worst nightmare; Sylus leaning against your desk in his usual model-like fashion with your phone in his hand.

Panic coursed through you like never before as you remembered what had been left open on your phone when you set it down and the painful fact that you left it unlocked. 

Prayers for a sinkhole to open up and consume you in that very moment went unanswered as Sylus looked up at you with a smirk on his face.

“Is my laugh really deadly?” He looked amused. 

Come on sinkhole. Anytime now. 

When you didn’t answer, Sylus moved toward you. When he was close enough to touch you, he leaned down to make sure your eyes were on his.

“Your deadline is fast approaching, Y/N. Care for a progress report?” The taunting question made heat rush to your face.

“It was stupid, I wrote it months ago.”

“Then why did you have it open?” 

You couldn’t exactly tell him that his willingness to change his cold and cruel demeanour just to keep you as his accountant revived the feelings you thought were long dead. You definitely couldn’t tell him that the necklace that suddenly weighed down your chest made your heart skip a beat every time you touched it. And there was no way you were telling him that the dinner you shared was the happiest you’d felt in a long time.

“I was going to delete it when I heard Mephisto break something in the hallway.”

“Delete it? Guess you don’t need it anymore.”

“Nope.” You popped the P on the word for emphasis. “Can I have my phone back now?” He placed the device into your outstretched hand. 

“So how do you feel about me now, sweetheart?”

You tried your best to appear unperturbed by his taunting. “Mad at your blatant violation of my privacy.”

“Forgive me. I saw my name on your phone when I went to check in on you and I was curious.”

“Mephisto told you I broke the vase, didn’t he?”

“Don’t deflect. Do you still have feelings for me?”

“No, they’re gone. Can we please drop this? It’s embarrassing.” You lied in favour of self-preservation and hoped he wouldn’t be able to see through your act.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Y/N. Many women confess their love for me every month.” You rolled your eyes at his ardent display of over-confidence and narcissism, though you knew he wasn’t exaggerating.  

“Okay, brace yourself there bachelor. No one said anything about love.” It was true, you never said you loved him. Whether or not you did, well that was a secret you’d take to the grave. 

“So then which feeling are we discussing?” The loaded question came out of his mouth so casually, like someone ordering a latte. A display of power that reminded you of just how little this mattered to him. 

Your feet felt like they were grounded in their place by an invisible force and you were sure your cheeks were beet red. You knew your mouth was slightly agape in shock, but you couldn’t even close it. Meanwhile, Sylus was unfazed, treating your feelings like a game. 

“Since when do you even care about how I feel?” The sudden outburst was accompanied by your hand running through your hair out of frustration.

Sylus’s jaw clenched and for a moment he said nothing. There was no hint of amusement left on his features. 

“You think I don’t care about you?” He seemed irritated by the premise, but you couldn’t figure out why. You thought Sylus was proud of his clear disregard for other people’s emotions. 

“You treated me like gum stuck to the bottom of your boot for years. What reason did you give me to think otherwise?”

“I don’t know, maybe the fact that I pay you more than my highest ranking footmen. Or that I had Mephisto tail you when you used to bike to and from work to make sure you got home safe. Hell, I invented the lunch budget when I hired you just to make sure you were eating— I even banned mushrooms from my kitchen in case you wanted to eat here. Not to mention the bullshit extra work I’d assign you just so you would stay longer.” 

Choosing not to dwell on the implication of his silent acts of kindness, you interjected. “Hey, I took those tasks seriously!” The twins thought you were crazy when you asked if Sylus was making those assignments up. You knew you were right. 

“Don’t interrupt me.” Your mouth clamped shut at his rather reasonable request. Sylus wasn’t a big talker, so when he monologued, it was important. 

“Your kindness, your humour, it all caught me off guard. No one ever treated me like you did and I had no idea how to feel. The little doodles you sent back to me on the notes I left you delineating tasks? I kept every last one. When Mephisto complained to me about that time you put corn-starch in his water fountain and almost destroyed his wiring, all I could do was laugh. I treated you like I treated all my men because I didn’t want people to find out that you were my weakness.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, but the pressure wasn’t budging. There was so much you didn’t know about Sylus, so much you completely misunderstood. This revelation caused a series of chain reactions to go off inside your brain and the weight of what he was trying to say felt suffocating.

You dreamed of a time where Sylus would reciprocate your feelings, but the reality of it was more daunting than you realised.

“All my threats are empty with you, Y/N. You’re the only one who gets away with the attitude you give me. You tell me you crashed a car worth over half-a-million dollars and all I could think about was if you were okay. I even offered to buy your house for way more than it was worth just to get you back. Do you seriously think I don’t care?” 

All sound came to a stifling halt. 

“Wait, you were the ‘developer’?”

The inklings of betrayal wove their way through your skin as the pieces began to fall into place. The timing of the eviction notice, the fact that he’d shown up at your house the day you received it, the way he was so quick to agree to the ridiculous bonus. 

He manipulated you like a puppet on a string and let you think you were in control the entire time.

“Don’t look at me like I’m some traitor.” His audacious demand made your blood boil.

“You are a traitor! How could you do that to me?” You yelled.

“You were going to leave me like I was nothing!” For the first time since you’d met him, Sylus raised his voice to match yours. Your entire body went cold at his vulnerability. He was afraid of being abandoned, and that was a fear you both shared.

“Not seeing you every day made my heart feel like it was being ripped out of my chest. I could barely focus, all I could think about was what you were doing, who you were with. So imagine my surprise when I come to find that while I’m being tortured every minute I’m away from you, you needed more time.

“I knew I was being selfish, I knew that your grief had nothing to do with me, but I’ve never been good at putting my feelings into words. That day in the graveyard when you wouldn’t even look at me, I thought I’d lost you for good. It ate at me like a parasite. I had to get you back and I won’t apologise for not playing fair. There isn’t a rule I wouldn’t break for you, Y/N.”  

It was hard to hate him for what he did when you understood where he was coming from. You were two sides of the same coin. While you overcompensated for the lack of love in your life by becoming the ultimate people-pleaser, he avoided it at every turn, saw it as a weakness. But at the core of every human being was an innate desire to be loved and an inherent fear of being abandoned. 

People couldn’t leave your life if you never let them in. That was a philosophy you saw both your mother and Sylus live by. It was lonely and difficult, and if you had the power of hindsight you would’ve tried harder to convince your mother she was worthy of love. You couldn’t make that same mistake again. 

You loved Sylus, that much was ingrained into the flesh of your heart. For all his rugged edges, he had a way of making things happen that was akin to magic. His determination, his grit, it was admirable.

His intelligence was infuriating, you couldn’t get anything past him. If he received the Greeks’ horse instead of the Trojans, you were sure he’d have seen right through their ruse. 

His desire to make the N109 Zone a better place stemmed from a sense of altruism you could only hope to possess. And when Sylus did things for others, he never expected anything in return. 

But for all his greatest traits he had some difficult ones too. He’d hurt you more times than you could count, and even if he’d changed drastically since your mother’s death, you couldn’t quite trust that he wouldn’t hurt you again.

“You already know how I feel about you.” You confessed. It was no secret you wore your heart on your sleeve, despite your mother’s constant reminders that the world was filled with terrible people who’d take advantage of your candour. You chose to see the good in others, it boded better than the grim lifestyle that came with perpetual pessimism. 

“Then why are you fighting this?” His question came out pained, and it was one you could answer. 

“I’ve loved you for a long time, Sylus. I loved you even though you insulted me, ignored me, reminded me I was replaceable every chance you got.

“I told myself it was just how you were, that it wasn’t personal. But when you walked out on me in the hospital when I needed you the most, I loved you a little less.”

Sylus felt an unfamiliar twinge in his chest, like someone took a needle to his heart. He left that hospital because he wasn’t sure you’d even want him there, and it pained him to see you so distraught over a problem he couldn’t fix. When MC came to him with an important mission in Skyhaven, he saw an out, and like the coward he was he took it. If he knew that you’d lose your mother while he was away, he never would have left your side. 

“When you didn’t call until weeks later, when you showed up only to tell me I was being dramatic for grieving, I loved you even less. Every time you screwed me over you made it easier to live without you.”

It hurt to remember the pain you were in back then, the immense pressure of the burdens you carried. But if there was ever a chance of you and Sylus working out, he needed to know the truth. 

“I’ve only ever loved two people, Sylus, and in one month it felt like I’d lost them both. I still love you, I’m afraid I couldn’t stop if I tried, but I don’t know if I can be more than your accountant right now.” You couldn’t survive another heartbreak, that much was for sure. 

Even though Sylus looked like he was going to be sick, you continued. 

“I thought I was okay with you treating me like everybody else, thought I was strong enough to take it. But when I saw you with Miss Hunter and the softness with which you spoke to her, it broke me. I saw that you were capable of being gentle. You just didn’t think I was a worthy recipient of your kindness.”

He was quick to correct you. “That’s not true, sweetheart. Not at all. She has something I need, something I can’t take with force. It’s why I’ve had to adopt unusual methods. If I’d known it was causing you so much pain I would’ve explained. Fuck, Y/N, you deserve so much more than just my kindness, more than I could ever give you. I can’t even think of a person on Earth who deserves you at all.” 

When Sylus saw the tears begin to slide down your cheeks, he resisted the urge to wipe them away.

“I’ll give you anything you ask for, anything but letting you go. There’s nothing so broken it can’t be fixed, Y/N. You taught me that. Let me fix this.” He tested the waters by taking your hand in his and when you let him, he pulled you into his arms. 

For a moment, the room was silent. You listened to his heartbeat through his chest and it might have been even faster than yours. It felt like deja vu, reminding you of that moment in the restaurant, or that time in his hallway after Zayne’s phone call. Sylus was there to comfort you more often than not, why were you so scared of letting him in?

“I want to believe you, I just don’t know that I can.” Your voice was small, timid. As if you were afraid something you’d say would shatter the sanctity of this moment and you’d find out it was all a dream. 

“I won’t stop trying until you do, sweetheart. You’re it for me, there’s no one else.” He kissed the top of your head with a softness you didn’t know he possessed and the words were like bandages wrapping around the wounds inflicted by your own envy.

In the comfortable silence, Sylus made a vow. “I don’t have regrets — you know that quite well — but I regret the way I treated you. I’ll spend every lifetime repenting for my mistakes, Y/N, and I promise I’ll never let anything hurt you again.” He squeezed you tighter and the comfort his warmth brought you was a welcome change to the cold you lived in all the time. 

Desperate to diffuse the overwhelming angst of the situation, you pulled away from his embrace and clapped your hands together. “Okay then, as of today we commence ‘Operation Sylus: The Redemption'.”

His loud laugh resounded through your office, and it was a sound you’d never get tired of hearing. He grabbed your chin. “Have you always been this corny?” 

“I watch a lot of movies, okay? Now, shake on it.” You shook his hand off your face and held out your hand with an invitation that he instantly accepted. With his warm hand encasing yours, you whole-heartedly hoped this operation would be a success. 

Late December

You assumed the dynamic between you and Sylus would drastically change following your impromptu heart-to-heart. But the changes came in small waves. 

It started with the middle-aged man who silently drove you to and from work with a permanent scowl on his face being replaced by Sylus himself.

Then there was the sticky notes he’d usually place on documents explaining the task and deadline, now with an added addendum.

— That necklace was the best decision I’ve ever made.

— Your hair looks especially nice today.

— Did you switch perfumes? I like it.

— That new lipstick suits you. Your lips are all I can think about. 

You saved all of them in a drawer at your desk. 

He had someone bring you your lunch every day and spent your entire lunch break with you. Somedays you talked until your tongue felt like it was going to fall off, other days you just sat and ate together in silence. And every Friday afternoon, instead of taking you straight home, he’d take you to visit your mother’s grave with a new bouquet in his hands. 

You were glad he was taking things slow. His small gestures made your heart flutter without overwhelming you, but it had been a month since your confrontation, and he didn’t even try to touch you. 

While your inexperience with love, lust and romance never impacted any significant aspect of your life before, it was growing increasingly difficult to wait for Sylus to make the first move. He didn’t want to scare you, that much was understandable. But you were growing angsty waiting for him the tension between you two hit a boiling point.

The glorious plan came to you while you were shopping with Luke and Kieran for Onychinus’s annual Christmas gala. It was a networking event masked under the guise of a holiday celebration where the people hiding in the shadows of the underworld could spend one night communicating on the surface.

Every year, Sylus insisted he couldn’t outsource waiters for the event because of potential security leaks, so you, the twins and a couple other of his staff were forced to fill in as the help. Sylus told you that you wouldn’t have to participate this year, but you began to look forward to the event. It was like an unorthodox Christmas tradition.

Your eyes drifted to the costume section of the party store, and when they landed on a short red Santa’s helper dress, you felt a lightbulb turn on in your head. Maybe you had to give Sylus a little nudge.

“Hey, aren't you guys kind of bored of the slacks and the dress shirts he makes us wear?” You sowed the seed of doubt into your unwilling accomplices.

“Duh. I hate dressing like a butler.” Luke’s eyes continued to scan the aisle for decorations. The hall was professionally decorated, but you added your own little details every year. It made things less drab and it gave the twins an excuse to spend hours in the party supply store. 

“What if we went with Christmas themed costumes this year?” The twins turned to look at you with confusion, but they quickly warmed up to the idea when you pointed at the wall of seasonal costumes.

“I’m Rudolph!” They made their declarations in unison before breaking out into an argument in the middle of the party store.

“Just flip a coin!” You desperately suggested, taking a coin out of your wallet and placing it on your thumb, ready to flip. People were beginning to stare.

“I’m heads!” They said in unison, again.

“Kieran you’re heads, Luke you’re tails.” You assigned them the parts of the coin alphabetically and watched it flip through the air. When it landed in your hands, it displayed tails. You silently hoped they would move on from this unnecessary battle and restore peace to your shopping trip again.

“Sorry Kieran, Luke’s Rudolph.” Kieran complained for the rest of the day about how annoying being an elf was, and how, since he was an inch taller than Luke, it only made sense for Luke to be the elf instead. 

They argued like the siblings you never had, and for all the pain and suffering they caused you, there was no denying you loved having them around. Besides, working for Sylus left the three of you trauma-bonded for life. There wasn’t really an out from this unconventional friendship. 

_________________

You failed to remember to clear the costume idea with Sylus before the gala. He was just so busy trying to organise the event, and you were similarly swamped with ensuring all the invoices were sent out on time to the right vendors. You barely saw each other in the days leading up to the big event.

The dress was shorter on you than you anticipated. Coming up just above mid-thigh, it was nothing like anything you owned in your closet. The little hat it came with was cute though and you pinned it to your hair. The make-up you wore was the same as your everyday makeup, barring the eyeliner you’d spent way too long trying to perfect and your lipstick. 

Other than the dress, you really did look the same as you did most of the time. Would Sylus even notice?

Right on cue, a knock on your door snapped you out of your train of thought, and you took a deep breath before opening it. 

As you expected, Sylus looked unfazed by your choice in attire as you moved out of the doorway to let him in.

“I see we’ve foregone the uniforms this year.” His comment was a welcome distraction from your insecurities.

“Whimsy is part of the Christmas spirit, you know.”

“It’s cute. Did you get that dress from the children’s section?”

The question came so out of left-field it left you were stunned. Once the shock settled in, you suddenly felt self-conscious.

“No… Why? Does it look childish?” You couldn’t help the vulnerability in your voice. 

Sylus closed the distance between you in a few long strides, his hands were on you in an instant. His palm was holding onto your waist the other tracing alone the edge of your dress. 

“Quite the opposite, I’m just wondering why they’d make a dress so short for adult women.” 

“Adult women can dress however they want, Sylus.” You chided.

“I know, but I’ll have my hands full if I’m trying to host this event and take care of the hoards of men that will be chasing after my girl at the same time.” He whispered the words seductively into your ear, the hand on your thigh slipping ever-so-slightly under the dress.

You ignored the warm, fuzzy feeling that bloomed through you at the sound of Sylus calling you his girl.

“There won’t be ‘hoards of men’. This will be the third time I’m working your annual gala and I’ve only ever gotten hit on like four times.” You knew from the way his eyebrows furrowed that you shouldn’t have told him that.

“Four times? Men hit on you four times while I was in the room and you didn’t tell me?” He was clearly angry, his rage unwarranted since it happened right under his nose. 

“I didn’t think you’d care. Most of them were like fifty, anyway!” That was true, and every time one of them placed a hand on your shoulder or your forearm, it made you grimace. 

“If men approached you in long pants and a dress shirt with a plate of refreshments in your hand what do you think they’ll do when they see you in this get up?” He walked you back until you were standing against the wall.

He had a point. Maybe it was too suggestive.

“I can change—”

“No. You never have to do that with me, baby. Just stay where I can see you, alright?” 

“Okay.” You felt a blush paint your cheeks. The tension was bubbling up between you. His hand was searing into your waist, his other one moving dangerously high on your thigh. You really thought this would be the moment he kissed you. But then the warmth of his hands was abruptly gone. 

“Okay. You ready to go?” He held the door open for you. That was it? Frustrated at your lack of results, you silently walked out of your house.

__________________

“Did you see Sylus’s date?”

“Of course, she’s definitely the hottest girl here.”

“I bet she’s had work done.”

“If so, I need the name of her surgeon.”

You eavesdropped on the hushed whispers of a group of women who were gossiping in a corner near the kitchen. The second you walked through the doors of the extravagant event hall, you both went your separate ways and you hadn’t seen him since. So much for not letting you out of his sight. 

All you heard about the entire night was his mysterious date and her envious beauty. He never told you he was bringing one, nor did he ever ask you to fill the spot. But before you could completely spiral, you reminded yourself of Sylus’s promise. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. There had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation. 

“Now what’s a pretty girl like you doing working here?” Your train of thought was interrupted by the voice of a man. You turned around, expecting to see one of the many sleazy old men who frequented these events and saw you as an easy target, but all you saw was a young, attractive guy in a three-piece suit. Huh.

“Hors d’oeuvre?” You offered the plate to him in place of a response. 

“No thanks. I’ve had my fill, though I must say, the other servers aren’t quite as easy on the eyes as you.” His eyes shamelessly scanned every inch of you, head-to-toe, and you felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his gaze. 

“Oh, um thanks.” The blush on your cheeks was an unwanted biological reaction, you weren’t used to attention from men within your age range. It wasn't like you thought you were ugly, you were just a bit of a hermit.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” You were about to answer his question when someone did it for you.

“Y/N.” The voice belonged to the man of the hour who seemed to have appeared out of thin air. 

“Sylus, hello. Hors d’oeuvre?” Clearly you were running out of things to say if your default reaction was to offer everyone a snack, but it was hard to find the voice to speak when you saw the girl who had her arms wrapped around his. 

Miss Hunter. You should’ve known. Your eyes passed over her beautiful dress and pinned up hair. She lived up to the rumours, she was definitely the prettiest girl in the room. Next to Sylus the pair reminded you of a renaissance painting. They made sense, and clearly not just aesthetically if he brought her as his date instead of you.

Sylus saw the way your eyes trailed off to MC standing next to him. He saw the self-doubt turn your eyes glassy, and all he wanted to do was whisk you away to a private room where he could show you just how badly he wanted you, and no one else.

But his enemies were in attendance tonight, it was part of the reason he didn’t want you there. Sylus’s only weakness used to be his mortality, and even that was debatable. But now his biggest weakness was tangible, and she wore an adorable Christmas themed dress that made every man in the room brim with desire. Miss Hunter may have been the focus of all the women in attendance, but all the men could talk about was the sexy server in the little red dress. It was driving him insane. 

But MC was a hunter and if he endangered her, she could get out of it unscathed without his help. Their enemies were the same, which made them perfect allies, but it also made their loved ones easy targets. Sylus would never forgive himself if he let someone hurt you. So despite the excruciating pain that coursed through him at your hurt expression, he did nothing to quell your concerns.

But he couldn’t idly stand by and let this man make a pass at you either. It was clear Henry was not aware of Sylus’s newly established no-fraternising-with-the-staff policy. 

“Henry, not distracting my staff, are you?” Sylus directed his attention to his business associate. Henry ran a security company which supplied a large portion of their weaponry from Onychinus. The contract they shared was a substantial source of revenue that Sylus couldn’t afford to compromise. 

“I’m just wondering where you found such delectable staff.” Sylus felt his jaw clench at the way Henry undressed you with his eyes and your consequential discomfort. Fuck the contract, he was going to make that man pay. But he couldn’t inflict his revenge quite yet, so he played nice. 

“Unfortunately my staff are exclusively mine. I’m sure you understand how difficult it is to find loyal help.” Well, at least he tried to play nice. The subtle jab at Henry’s recent whistleblower scandal was a low blow, but he wasn’t above kicking below the belt.

Annoyed and slightly confused by the exchange, you rolled your eyes at the testosterone-fuelled men bickering and cleared your throat.

“I think I’m needed in the kitchen. Nice meeting you, Henry.” You gave him the kindest smile you could muster and gave Sylus no smile at all. It was the least he deserved for blindsiding you with his date. 

“I should check on the catering, excuse me.” Sylus followed you to the kitchen and the second he caught up to you, he pulled you into a nearby storage closet.

There was barely any room for the both of you in there, so you were pressed up against his body. You tried to create some distance between you two, but he just pulled you back in by your waist.

“What are you doing? I’m supposed to be working and you’re supposed to be socialising. We can’t do those things from here.” You berated him quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn’t really need anyone from the staff discovering you in this compromising position. You’d had enough embarrassment in one night for a lifetime.

“Miss Hunter is just here with me on business.” Sylus’s statement did little to comfort the tumultuous storm in your mind. 

“I don’t care.” In a sense, it was true. It seemed your mind didn’t care whether Miss Hunter was there with him on business or not, it still hurt all the same. 

“Don’t lie to me, I can tell when you’re upset.” Sylus tried to caress your cheek but you pushed his hand away. 

“Okay, fine. I’m upset. Now will you let me leave?” You tried to wriggle out of his grasp but to no avail. His hand squeezed your face as he forced you to face him. 

“If you’re upset, talk to me about it. Don’t antagonise me by flirting with other men. It won’t end well for them.” The fire in his eyes swore retribution and you did not want to be Henry right now.

“I wasn’t flirting!” You tried to defend yourself but you knew he’d see straight through your ruse. 

“That sweet smile of yours is reserved for me and me alone.” There was no way Sylus would’ve let that over-the-top smile slide and this was exactly how you expected him to react, but it only made you more upset.  

“Right, but I just have to make do with sharing you with Miss Hunter.” The irony of the situation was not lost on Sylus, but he had a laundry-list of crimes, hypocrisy was the least of them. 

“I’m all yours, baby. I promise it’s just business.” He sounded sincere, and you trusted him to tell you the truth. Sylus never lied unless it was out of omission, but when you asked him a direct question, he never failed to answer honestly. 

“I can help you with business.” You tried to reason, your palm resting against his pounding heart. 

“Not this kind, sweetheart. I’m just trying to protect you. I need you to trust me.” You trusted Sylus with your life, with your heart. Which was why you knew you wouldn’t like the answer to the question you asked next. 

“Did you sleep with her?” The mere thought of it tasted like acid on your tongue. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware of Sylus’s past, but where the other women in his life came and left like the tide, Miss Hunter’s presence was persistent. 

You needed to know just how far they’d gone, even if it might destroy you. 

“Yes. It was one time when we first met in September. Before I realised how I felt for you.” The words pierced straight through you like bullets of radiation. Your palm slowly slipped off of his chest and you diverted your gaze to your heels. “Y/N, you know I only want you. It meant nothing to me.” 

Perhaps it wasn’t the fact that they’d slept together that hurt you so deeply. Maybe it was the way he looked at her, the way she got under his skin. Sylus may love you, but what if he wasn’t attracted to you?

The thought slipped out of you before you could mull it over. “How am I supposed to believe that when you were all over in seconds and you won’t even kiss me?!” 

A hint of recognition flashed through Sylus’s eyes as he realised the catalyst behind your frustration. For some odd reason that he could never figure out, you were insecure. Even though your charm bordered on lethal and your beauty was unparalleled, you still felt inadequate. It perplexed him how someone could look so divine and not be aware of it.

“I haven’t kissed you because I wanted to make sure you were ready, sweetheart. I was worried I’d scare you away, because I’m sure if I got a taste of you I wouldn’t know how to stop.” He sounded strained when he spoke, as if he was recalling his frustration at having to hold back. 

You watched him intently, his words dripped with a desire you both shared. With his body so close to yours, it was hard not to wish he’d just act on his primal instincts. 

“You’re entirely unaware of your affect on me. You have no idea how precarious the string holding me back from insanity has become. When I saw you in that dress, I was sure I wouldn’t be able to hold back. But then you'd look up at me with those angelic eyes and I realise I can’t risk losing you.” 

Before you could even think it through, your desire became overwhelming and your lips were on his in an instant.

It was nothing like you expected, nothing like the chaste, sweet kisses you saw in your movies. It was heated, messy, desperate. His lips ravaged yours like a man on death row devoured his last meal. You felt his desire with every movement and all the doubt you had dissipated instantly. His hands were all over you, one softly held on to your neck, while the other held on to your waist like you might disappear. 

His lips moved to your cheek, your jaw and eventually the sensitive skin on your collarbone. When he bit a particularly sensitive part of your neck, you let out a whine. You hoped he hadn't given you a hickey. His face came up to yours as he looked at your lips which were red from the impact and the desire running rampant in your eyes. It might’ve been the most beautiful you’d ever looked.

“Well? I’m still here.” You whispered against his lips before giving him a chaste peck.

Sylus knew you weren’t just talking about this moment. You never left, even when he gave you a million reasons why you should. He didn’t know what he did to deserve such luck, but he knew he’d never give you a reason to walk away from him ever again.

“We should get out of here.” Somehow you knew he didn’t just mean the storage closet. He shifted to lead you out but you quickly stopped him.

“You can’t leave your own party! What about your date?” As much as the idea of MC hanging off his arm made your skin crawl, it wasn’t right to just leave her alone. 

“She’ll be fine. The only woman I care about is right in front of me, and I want to do so much to her than kiss her in a storage closet.” There was an underlying promise in his tone, and you felt the slightest bit of fear that you might’ve bitten off more than you could chew.

“You’ve lasted this long, what’s one more night?” Your last ditch effort to escape the dangerous situation was unsuccessful. 

“Sweetheart, I can't wait another second.” He gave you a soft, gentle kiss that conveyed his fraying restraint. Your fear felt inconsequential when he was with you, you knew you could trust him wholly with every part of you. 

So, when he led you out of the storage closet and all the way to his bedroom, you never once felt scared. Or insecure. Or inadequate. Sylus worshipped you like you were his salvation and he never once let you doubt yourself again.

Later that night, as you laid in his bed underneath his covers, staring over at his peaceful sleeping expression, you realised he was your salvation too.

Christmas Day

“What’s the surprise?” You asked the same question for the umpteenth time. 

“Just be patient, we’re almost there.” You let Sylus lead you through what you thought was a building while you obediently kept your eyes shut. Eventually your feet came to a halt, and you were bursting with anticipation. 

“Alright, open your eyes.” When you opened them you were in the living room of a charming beach house. It was so bright it took your eyes a while to adjust, but when they did you noticed that it was decorated with splashes of your favourite shade of yellow. The large balcony doors opened to the sight of a familiar beach, and you felt a range of emotions wash over you all at once. Sadness, nostalgia, yearning. 

“Merry Christmas, baby.” Sylus’s voice behind you snapped you back to reality. 

“What is this place?” The awe in your voice could not be concealed.

“It’s yours. I know how much you hate being on the beach, but I also know it meant a lot to your mother. From this balcony it’ll be like you’re right there without actually being there.” He sounded almost nervous while presenting his gift to you, worried you might hate it. But there wasn’t a word that could describe the pure gratitude and love you felt for the man standing in front of you. 

“You bought me a house on my mother’s favourite beach?” The disbelief in your voice was almost tangible. 

“Yeah.”

“Sylus, all I got you was a pocket watch!” You thought that since you were both not very big on Christmas, you would exchange small gifts. Clearly small wasn’t a word Sylus kept in his vocabulary. 

“You gave me so much more than that.” The suggestion in his voice did nothing to soothe your guilt. 

“This is too much.”

“Y/N, you’re more familiar with my assets than I am, if this made a significant dent in my bank account I think you would’ve noticed when I bought it a month ago.” 

“You’ve had this for a month?” The shock persisted, but he was right. His expenses ranged from a box of paperclips to the purchase of a two-hundred-million dollar industrial complex. 

“Yes, I bought it the first time you asked me to take you to the beach after work.”

“But what if we didn’t work out?” A month ago that seemed like a palpable possibility, but now you couldn’t imagine your life without Sylus in it.

“I’d find a way to trick you into taking it anyway.” 

You all but rolled your eyes at the memory of his less-than-graceful plan to acquire your house until you ended up working for him again. 

“Right, of course. You’re quite good at that I hear.” 

“I’m good at many things, I’ll remind you later.” He drawled against your ear, but before you could force him to act on his promise he spoke up again. “For now, there’s one more surprise.” 

You let Sylus lead you out to the balcony with his hands on your shoulders, driving you forward. He stood behind you, his chest to your back. He pointed to a hill on the left of the house where a beautiful willow tree sat atop the beach on a cliff.

“I bought that plot of land too. I don’t want to overstep, but if you’d like, we could move your mother here. Have her final resting place be at the place she loved the most.” His voice kept you anchored as memories of your mother threatened to pull you away. It still filled your chest with overwhelming sadness when you thought of her, but the thought that she could spend forever in the place that brought her the most joy filled you with relief. You didn’t get to give your mother much, but at least Sylus helped you give her this. 

You couldn’t stop the tears streaming down your face if you tried.

Sylus had come a long way from that day at the graveyard, an even longer way from the day you met him. The fact that he grew to care about your mother as much as you did made your heart swell with love for him that expanded every day. Something you didn’t even think was possible.

“She would love that.” Sylus wrapped his hands around your waist, placing an ever-so-gentle kiss on your temple. “I wish you could’ve met her when she was alive, you would’ve loved her.” They were both the strongest people you knew, and it pained you that they never got to meet. 

“I’m sure I would have. After all, I am a huge fan of her work.” You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you at his cheesy joke. You were rubbing off on him, that was for sure. He peppered kisses all over the side of your face at the sound of your joyful laugh and you had to squeeze out of his grasp to make him stop. 

While you wished you didn’t have to lose someone so important to you to gain another, things always had a weird way of working out. Your future was still murky, but what you did know for sure was that ’Operation Sylus: No More’ could officially be declared a massive failure. And even though the physical hole in your heart still existed, the proverbial one shrunk to half it’s size; and you had the silver-haired man with the stone-encased heart of gold to thank for that. 

Tag list: @blue-sky336 @sei-chuun @astolary @luna-looniesblog @rainkissedberries @syluslittlecrows @escape-your-nightmare @mangooes @bibistarx @kathypellar @stxrrielle @mansonofmadness @babygirl-panda19 @wegottastayfocus @zoezhive @futurecorpse92 @diabolichii @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @cathuggnbear @blue-serendipity @huuvu @thisbitchreallyneedssleep @sh3sa1dwhat @justpassingdontworry @sylustoru @poptrim @mikachux3 @thargelalia @eolivy @vyntheria @dana-nite @miffysoo @babyx91 @fealy @sillyfreakfanparty @cassiesversion @serenity-loves-red @nommingonfood @sylusgirlie7 @browneyedgirl22 @silverbrain

Sorry if you were tagged but didn't get a notif, I think some of you might have your tags off because your blog wasn't coming up for me >:c

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 20: The One Where We Take a Course in Rear Window Ethics

Oh, hey, hey – you’re back!

Yes. I, uh – we need to – uh... What the hell are you doing with that Exakta VX camera fitted with a 400 mm Kilfitt lens?

Come here. See those open windows across the courtyard?

Uh, yeah…

Well, I’m trying to zoom into that apartment –

Wow. Because that’s not creepy as fuck.

Oh, don’t be so modern. This is New York City, 1954. It’s fine.

Yeah, okay. I need you to focus for a moment. Seriously – put down the zoom lens. Headquarters called and wanted to know why Dorothy was still in Oz. You know we were told to take her home.

No – actually we were told to throw stones at that wannabe Wizard. And we did. Kind of. Okay, whatever, but surely you can feel the shift. At the very least we’ve infiltrated the base camp with a bunch of flying monkeys. They’ll take care of the rest. God, there’s one in there –

And we were supposed to help Dorothy find her way back home.

Meh, don’t worry about Dorothy. I don’t think she’s ready to go home. Even after the ping-pong bullshit of the past few weeks, she’s still standing on her own two feet. Although Toto continues to be a mild pain…

But –

But nothing. Dorothy’s had the power to get her own ass home this entire time. When’s she’s ready, she’ll go.

Okay, well, obviously you’re not going to be of any help as you seem preoccupied with spying on your neighbors. So, I’m going to need to borrow the hot air balloon. Where’d you put it?

Oh, it’s on the—wait! If you take our balloon, how am I supposed to get around? I’m not staying here indefinitely. There’s no air conditioning in this damn apartment!

How about I promise to come back for you? Maybe.

Damn you. Fine, I’ll go with you. Let me get my shit together. Here, hold my camera – and don’t drop it!

Hmph, this is heavy. How does it work? I just look through this and… <points camera towards apartment across the way> Oh – this is interesting. What the hell did you say was going on over there? “…[S]tart from the beginning…Tell me everything you saw – and what you think it means.”

You know those days when you have no choice but to catch up on the work you’ve been blowing off for the past few days (maybe even weeks)? Well, last week, I was having one of those days. The work I’d been pushing down my list for weeks finally needed to be addressed. Regardless of how mind-numbing it was, it had to get done otherwise things were going to start going awry.

I’m one of those people who – when working on the mundane – has a mind that tends to wander every few minutes or so. I find myself Googling things like, “What is the fastest animal on the planet?” And, for your own Useless Knowledge, the cheetah’s land speed of 60+ mph doesn’t come close to the peregrine falcon’s dive bomb of 240+ mph.

Anyway, to keep my mind from wandering, I usually have something running in the background to force my brain into paying attention to two things at once – somehow that helps me maintain focus. The most popular “something” is almost always one of the many (quite possibly too many) British detective shows available for streaming. But, the other day, I simply wasn’t in the mood to rewatch Season 3 of “Dalgliesh” for the seventh time.

So, after a bit of scrolling, I put on an old movie I hadn’t seen in years: “Rear Window.”

The 1954 original, of course.

I’m rarely impressed by anything put out by Modern Hollywood, but the old shit – well, there are some legit classics out there, including this one.

One of the reasons I’ve always been fond of this movie is because you go into it knowing the “bad guy” right from the word “go.” I’m one of those extremely annoying people who can guess the villain within the first few chapters of a book, or within the first twenty or so minutes of a movie (like I said, I am rarely impressed by Hollywood). However, I will admit, one book did slip by me. Damn you, Agatha Christie. Honestly, though, the thrill I felt with being wrong was far more memorable than anything I’ve ever felt with being right. Good or bad, a surprise always leaves its imprint, doesn’t it? Plus, the hysterical elation my father must have felt – and later exhibited – knowing I was going into the final few chapters wrong – well, damn him, too. And, no, the book was not “Three Act Tragedy.” That one was quite easy.

Okay, enough about Ms. Christie. Back to Mr. Hitchcock.

As I sat busily typing away and listening to the dialogue of “Rear Window” playing in the far reaches of my office, it suddenly occurred to me that the parallels between “Rear Window” and the Lukola fandom were rather, well, thought-provoking. Here we have a man (and later his sidekicks) peering into the personal life of another human being. Our protagonist in “Rear Window” witnesses an event (a cover-up, actually) and sets out to prove it – all from the perspective of an onlooker looking in. Sound familiar? I thought it might.

So, welcome to your course on “Rear Window Ethics.”

Now, I cannot intertwine “Rear Window” with the Lukola fandom without dragging your ass into the story. Actually, I could – but it’s far more entertaining for me (and hopefully you) if I form a nexus between you and the movie.

Therefore, you, of course, get to align yourself with L.B. Jefferies (played in real life by Jimmy Stewart). If you’re still in this fandom, it’s because you’ve witnessed something you simply cannot ignore and you’re almost certainly hellbent on proving it at this point.

It’s very likely most of you entered the Lukola fandom alone. You watched some portion of the World Tour and became intrigued. Your mind began to wander, which sparked some urge in you to do some digging. Eventually your investigation led you to the Devil – sorry, I mean, social media. There you met like-minded junior investigators, and you’ve now found yourself chatting with these newfound friends and theorizing in the burrows of underground group chats.

So, about your sidekicks…

The part of “Stell-aaaaaa!!!!” (yes, that is my hat-tip to Jake) is given to your most “inventive” Lukola friend. You know, the one that has their own “theories” channel in your private chats; the one who scurries down the rabbit hole – not in search of the White Rabbit – but in search of the Cheshire Cat. Stella is the reason you think outside the box. In “Rear Window,” Stella (played by Thelma Ritter) is Jefferies’ nurse (Jefferies is injured and bound to his apartment; hence why he has so much free time to gaze out the rear window). This friend will throw anything and everything against the wall to see what sticks – even if it occasionally takes a deep-dive into how to cut up a body in a bathtub.

Next, we have Detective Doyle, Jefferies’ long-time friend (played by Wendell Corey). Doyle is quite possibly your spouse, haha, or anyone who side-eyes your involvement with this fandom. Doyle half listens to Jefferies’ theories and usually counters Jefferies with an alternative piece of evidence. But don’t fret, although Doyle teases Jefferies about his wild theories throughout the film, Doyle is, in fact, supportive of Jefferies and does comes around in the end.

I’m going to switch gears for a moment but not before acknowledging that, yes, I am aware I’m missing a player here. Don’t worry – she will arrive shortly.

Alright, on to our subject matter: Lars Thorwald.

Thorwald (played by Raymond Burr) is our straight-outta-Hitchcock-baddie who has been spotted by Jefferies trying to cover up the murder of his wife. The obvious parallels I’m going to draw between “Rear Window” and the Lukola fandom are (1) Thorwald’s crime being equivalent to the World Tour and everything that has happened thereafter, and (2) Jefferies’ obsession with proving Thorwald is guilty being comparable to the fandom’s obsession with proving Lukola is real.

Now, I’m going to get the ball rolling by fast-forwarding through the World Tour all the way up to where I last left you – the post-release of “Mis-Directed.” Recall that shortly before the book’s release, in a surprise turn of events, Luke appeared with Antonia at the Boss event held January 30. However, this was almost immediately negated by Luke snubbing Antonia post-event (and perhaps even more shockingly, Antonia’s mirrored lack of acknowledgement of Luke). And try as Nicola might, there’s no skirting around the innuendo made throughout that fan-fic of a book.

“Watson! Get up! There’s fuckery afoot!”

Who the hell are you?

I’m Dad. Who are you?

Ah, not that guy!

Yes, that guy. Of course, Dad has entered the room. After all I needed someone to fill the role of Lisa Fremont (also known as Grace Kelly). Lisa is your Lukola friend with the highest degree of common sense. She takes the “evidence” presented and looks at it with some realism. She is never going to take the Dwight Shrute Route and state something as “Fact,” but she is the one you rely on to delineate between what makes sense and what doesn’t. In short, this is your friend who understands human nature.

Alright, before I really get this ball rolling –

Since I’ve now added a third wheel (Dad) to the back-and-forth dialogue of my two wizard-chasing-balloon-riding-time-traveling-narrators, I suppose I should also give these two imbeciles names.

You first.

Uh, well, I’m Charley and that’s –

I’m Crowd.

Full credit for these two make-believe idiots is given to my dad. He created the personas of “Charley and the Crowd” for my two nieces a few years ago. They would show him their dolls and my dad would narrate what was going on in their stories. Of course, my nieces regularly corrected him with, “No, Papá, that is not what Barbie is doing!” Still, Charley and the Crowd stuck around, playing the role of two, usually counter-productive and sometimes ignored, news anchors at a Macy’s Day Parade-like event hosted by my nieces’ massive collection of L.O.L. Dolls.

And just for clarity’s sake, during the dialogue between Charley, Crowd, and Dad, actual statements made by Dad will be in quotations. Any statement not in quotations was added simply to move the story along.

Let’s begin (finally).

In “Rear Window,” every time Jefferies and his sidekicks present their findings to Detective Doyle attempting to prove Thorwald’s guilt, they are thwarted by evidence discovered by Doyle’s investigation. It’s a constant back-and-forth throughout the movie; however, regardless of how “solid” Doyle’s evidence is that Anna Thorwald is still alive, Jefferies remains sat on the hill that Thorwald killed his wife. It was this parallel – not the peeping Tom aspect of the movie – that piqued my interest last week. No matter what was thrown at him, Jefferies remained steadfast in his opinion Thorwald murdered his wife. Nothing budged him. I realized Jefferies’ level of resilience mirrored every diehard Lukola’s reaction to every piece of contradictory evidence thrown at them. Nothing budges them.

The tail-end of January and all of February was a bit wild in the Lukola fandom. I mean, there were a lot of narratives being thrown around only to be counteracted by another event. As I mentioned earlier, we ended January with the Boss event but that flame was quickly extinguished by Luke and Antonia’s complete lack of follow-up. Luke had the perfect opportunity to make it “official” with Antonia – to finally shut down the Lukola shippers – but he didn’t.

Crowd: Antonia not doing anything with it is the biggest tell, in my opinion.

I’m not going to spend much time rehashing the Boss event because I already discussed it in Entry 18 (link below), but I will touch on two things that I believe deserve an Honorable Mention.

The first being –

Charley: Why didn’t Antonia have her phone or even a handbag at the Boss event?

I mention this little detail because it was echoed at the BAFTA afterparty Luke attended with Antonia on February 16. In fact, I suspect this may be the modus operandi when Antonia attends an event with Luke – she is not given the opportunity to have a phone with her. One would think, at the very least, you would see Antonia entering and/or leaving an event with some kind of handbag or clutch. But we have pictures of Antonia entering both the Boss event and BAFTA afterparty without one. I will acknowledge we don’t see her leave these two events; however, if we rewind time, Antonia does not have a handbag with her during Papsmear.

Dad: “Well, that’s extremely odd.”

I don’t believe I’ve mentioned it before – at least not on this blog – that my dad has an eye for women’s fashion. My sisters and I grew up under his critical eye and, to this day, my father doesn’t know where he went wrong with my older sister. This is entirely why he was given the part of Lisa Fremont, the movie’s style icon in the form of Grace Kelly. The fact that Antonia is never seen with any type of handbag at these events sparked his interest.

Dad: “[It seems] they [at a minimum Luke] wanted complete control [of what Antonia could take away from the event]. No handbag. Nowhere to hide a phone. No rogue pictures floating about.”

Charley: Yes, it does seem that way.

The second event I wanted to mention was – although neither Luke nor Antonia liked the Boss grid post of the two of them entering that event together – Nicola did. Now, this wasn’t an immediate like. In fact, Nicola waited almost two weeks to like the post, on February 12.

Crowd: The day before Nicola went back and liked that post, that video was being dissected across social media.

Dad: Why?

Charley: Because it was suggested Luke said, “Let’s get this done,” as he walked inside the event with Antonia.

Dad: “I don’t hear shit.”

I will admit, when this video was initially sent to me, I didn’t hear anything except the background noise. However, when I was told what was allegedly being said, I was able to hear it. This very well could be the power of suggestion but the timing of Nicola’s like on this post is, at a minimum, noteworthy.

Once we leave the Boss event, we stumble right into “Mis-Directed.” I’ll post the links to my review of that book at the end. It is what it is – and it’s a whole lot of…umm, yeah…maybe Dad said it best.

Dad: “Either your Lukola thing is real, or Ireland is a psychopath.”

Crowd: Seriously, who let this guy in here?

I’m going to have to hard agree with my dad on this one. Not necessarily about Nicola being a “psychopath,” but the references made in the book are too on the nose for it not to be intentionally Lukola- and/or Polin-coded.

I’m also convinced this book was edited after the World Tour, with the most obvious example of this being demonstrated with the quote: “The dates here coincided with the time period of Leicester Square… Below the words was a symbol of a V-shaped flying dove. At first glimpse, it strongly resembled two raised fingers.” If our duo is to be believed, Luke and Nicola had no idea prior to the World Tour that the fandom would go wild over Colin’s fingers. But after the release of Part 1, any mention of “two raised fingers” would send the fandom into a feeding frenzy. And it’s such an extremely random bit of innuendo, I have trouble believing the author came up with it on her own.

Charley: When you think about it, if Antonia hadn’t shown up at the Boss event, the Lukola fandom would have taken the book as confirmation that Lukola was real.

Indeed, a hefty portion of the fandom would have done just that. The fandom was already convinced that Luke and Nicola spent the holidays together – even without direct evidence – because there was evidence that Luke and Nicola did not spend the holidays with Antonia and Jake, respectively.

Antonia appeared to be with family at Christmas and in the Maldives over New Year’s – without making even the slightest insinuation that Luke was with her.

Jake seemingly spent the holidays with Dylan B., as demonstrated by his pre-Christmas stories with Dylan in their (basically) adjacent hometowns – without Nicola, who, by her own account, was in Galway. Jake and Dylan’s Christmas stories were followed up with their jointly hosted New Year’s Eve party – at which Nicola was not present (as evidenced by Nicola’s comment to an attendee’s New Year’s Eve post: “Have the best night miss yous”).

Dad: “It is weird they [Nicola and Jake / Luke and Antonia] wouldn’t spend any of the holidays together. One? Sure, maybe. But all? No.”

But, even with that statement, my dad chose to play the role of Detective Doyle (a/k/a the Devil’s Advocate of “Rear Window”) regarding the holidays because –

Dad: “Misty [Antonia] was with her dance troupe. Jake was with his friends. Ireland was doing her thing. But no one knows where Thang [Luke] was. Everyone else has a trail except him, which is odd. He could have been with Ireland, but you can’t prove it, so what you have is not really evidence.”

Charley: Thanks, Dad.

But, let’s face it, my dad is right. There’s no solid evidence that Luke and Nicola spent their holidays with each other or anyone else. You can apply the same theory to the birthdays. The only “evidence” we have that two people did not spend a birthday together was Jake posting a belated birthday greeting to Nicola followed by Nicola posting what appeared to be an intimate birthday dinner for two, presumably from the night before. We can surmise Nicola’s birthday date was not Jake, otherwise he would not have posted the late greeting.

About Jake’s birthday –

Crowd: Oh, yeah, “hard launch No. 54” because Nicola used a red heart in her birthday story to him.

Charley: You mean the same one she used in a story for another friend just the other day?

Crowed: Yep.

Dad: “I don’t know what to say about those people [the Jakolas]. They need to resubmerge or something. There’s no relationship there [between Jake and Nicola].”

The Jakolas are banking this “hard launch” on the fact Nicola posted a birthday story for Jake, but not for Luke, and vice versa. These are the same people who will argue that Luke and Antonia not posting about each other’s birthdays is because they’re private – but, in the same breath, refuse to acknowledge Luke and Nicola may not post about each other’s birthdays because they’re private.

I believe it’s worth mentioning that no one from the Bridgerton cast except James Phoon posted about Nicola’s birthday on January 9. When Nicola acknowledged her birthday greetings the day after, she did not repost Phoon’s story nor did she repost fan-favorite JVN’s birthday story. And I should have placed bets on this next part – no one from the Bridgerton cast posted about Luke’s birthday on February 5. Surely, I’m not the only person who saw – and anticipated – the comraderie there.

What the Jakolas should have been focusing on with Jake’s birthday was the fact that it was Dylan and Becky’s boyfriend that were wearing matching “Jecky” shirts at their joint birthday party. No one else had that shirt except for the two people believed to be their significant others. Although I’m not fully convinced Jake is dating Dylan, I am one hundred percent convinced Jake would date Dylan over Nicola.

Charley: What’s next?

Crowd: God, there was so much shit going on in February! Uhh, let’s jump to Valentine’s Day. Nicola attended the IFTA’s with her mother and sister, and Luke attended a GQ dinner event alone.

This holiday follows in the same vein as the previously noted holidays, except it’s Nicola and (amazingly!) Luke that are both accounted for. Jake was presumed to be in Sheffield rehearsing for his play; and Antonia was nowhere to be found, not even at the GQ dinner.

However, Antonia does make a brief reappearance at a BAFTA afterparty alongside Luke on February 16.

Crowd: But it was a repeat of the Boss event. The next day, neither acknowledged the other.

Charley: And Luke was reported to have left the party after only an hour – without Antonia. He even posted a picture of himself getting into a car alone.

Dad: To me, “[i]t seems like Thang took his dog [Antonia] for a walk and left her at the dog park.”

Two days later, Luke – actually out for a walk – is papped getting coffee, alone. Is it horrible of me to say that the most exciting thing about these pictures was the untucked versus tucked shirt? I’m not even sure why I’m taking the time to mention this except I felt there would be some side-eye if I did not.

And to be honest, I’ve left out some details and minor events from the months of January and February because, if I were to add them, this post would be twice as long as it already is. For example, don’t get me started on sunburns, tan lines, and “sunny places.”

If we were in the movie, “Rear Window,” everything stated up until this point would run parallel to the back-and-forth between Detective Doyle and our Trio of Peeping Toms. Evidence is presented by the Trio, which is then countered by Doyle. Doyle’s evidence is dismissed by the Trio because, again, they’re hellbent on proving their case, so they continue theorizing and digging into Thorwald. All that leads up to the movie’s climax.

Charley: Have we finally made it to the SAG?

Crowd: Yes, yes, we have.

Charley: Dad – Dad – wake up!

Dad: Huh?

Alright, the fucking SAG awards. This would be about the point in “Rear Window” where Lisa gets caught by Thorwald rifling through his belongings in search of evidence. We’re in the audience biting our nails because Jefferies can’t do a damn thing to help Lisa except watch everything unfold. And that’s what we did with the SAG awards. The entire Lukola fandom was hyper-focused on Luke and Nicola – and they did not disappoint.

Forget all the drama we endured from the sideshow characters and the nonsense that came with them.

Forget Luke being AWOL for six months.

Forget everything except the “hug heard ‘round the world.”

The ice was broken; the champagne was flowing. Luke and Nicola’s joint SAG appearance was like the World Tour on steroids.

Dad: Can I say something?

Crowd: Fuck. What?

Dad: “It was their season, right? So, their joint appearance on the red carpet wasn’t earth shattering. Neither was them sitting together. It was their night to celebrate.”

Crowd: Who invited this wet blanket to the party?

Dad: I wasn’t done. “Their season has run its course, right? They’ve ‘graduated.’ So why are they the focus of mainstream media?”

Charley: <thinking> Because there’s something newsworthy there?

That is your climax. Not their SAG appearance – because everyone can have their own interpretation of Luke and Nicola’s behavior and those interviewers’ Q&A’s – it was the mainstream media going ga-ga over Luke and Nicola that sent the Lukola narrative tumbling out the window. If you’ve seen the movie, you’ll understand that reference.

By the following day, Luke and Nicola were everywhere. I genuinely appreciate the “Librarians” of the private group chats – those people who track and record every single post, story, like, non-like, follow, unfollow, literally everything – their job was grueling last week. The Sincerely Ignorant Lukolas who jumped ship months ago were frantically trying to climb back on board, while the Jakolas were desperately trying to find their Dramamine. The Defectors went silent except to remind their hive of hornets not to worry; that they will get “a reminder soon…”

Charley: A reminder of what?

Crowd: Oh, that there are two side characters floating about.

Well, lo and behold – right on schedule – a random picture of Luke and Antonia in an elevator surfaced the day after the SAG awards. The problem with the picture was that it was dismissed by Lukolas almost immediately. The account that dropped the picture on X was suspicious. Antonia’s hair and clothing seemed “so last year.” The Lukolas were far more focused on Luke and Nicola liking anything and everything to do with the SAG that day than to pay any attention to the “same old song and dance” about Antonia. Even Nicola liking Jake’s very bland “Nicola” comment on her grid post was dismissed with a “shooing” wave of the hand and an uninterested half laugh.

On February 25, the “insinuation” pictures were at it again. In fact, it was a rather busy day. An event host posted a picture of what appeared to be Antonia perfectly centered at an L.A. hotel pool. The story was reposted by the hotel itself. In fact, that’s the only reason the picture was found by the fandom. A new elevator picture of Luke and Antonia dropped; however, it, too, was dismissed fairly quickly, regardless of it being dropped by a different, less dubious X account. The Lukolas just didn’t give a fuck about Antonia. Luke was the subject of a blind that insinuated he had spent most of his time at the SAG looking in a mirror. And the evening was rounded out by something that would have rocked the boat in June 2024 but had little effect in February 2025 – Nicola followed Antonia on Instagram and vice versa!

Oh, shit – Jefferies just lost his grip and fell out the “Rear Window.” But he didn’t die! So, that’s a plus.

The following day, February 26, Antonia started to remove tags from her Instagram account including the “Soho” New Year's 2024 picture of Luke and his friend group, which included Antonia. And Nicola responded to the “mirror” blind about Luke with “I can confirm this is 100% not true [laughing/crying emoji].” So, interestingly, we had Antonia backing further away from Luke and Nicola stepping up to defend him.

Crowd: So, where do we go from here?

That’s a good question. The thing I’ve learned through this “course” is that the Lukolas are now unmoved by the shenanigans happening around them. You can serve Antonia to them on a silver platter, and they’ll flag down the waiter and ask them to return her to the kitchen. And you won’t find Jake anywhere on their menu (hence why I didn’t even bother to mention Jake’s play).

Dad: I think “the whole thing has run its course.”

It really has. The Lukolas are tired but unyielding. At this point, they just want their version of Thorwald to confess. The narratives running parallel to each other (i.e., Lukola vs. Jakola vs. Lutonia) can’t go on much longer. One of them is going to crack under the pressure.

Remember, “Three can keep a secret…”

P.S.

Dad: “Is Ireland still wearing that ring?”

Me: Yes.

Dad: “Then why did you call me?”

Me: <deep sigh>

[paxtito]

needy girl

pairings: tara x reader (g!p)

wc: 2867

warnings: smut 18+, daddy kink, size kink, p in v, small amount of orgasm denial

a/n: requested by anon. i’ve never written a daddy kink before so this is my first time lol. (no kink shaming here.) not proofread

Tara hated being away from you for too long. It wasn’t something she’d ever admit out loud—she had a reputation to uphold, after all—but the moment you were out of sight, a restless itch settled under her skin. And today? Today was worse. You had been in class for over an hour, and she was already craving your presence.

She could’ve texted you, but she knew better. Your phone would be on silent, and the last thing she wanted was to be left on read, forced to wait. So instead, she took matters into her own hands.

Using the key you had given her weeks ago (something she had fought hard not to gloat about), Tara let herself into your dorm. The space was familiar, comforting in a way that made her shoulders relax the moment she stepped inside. The lingering traces of your cologne, the messiness that was so uniquely you—it was enough to ease the ache in her chest, but not entirely.

Her eyes flickered to your bed, then to your desk chair where she spotted it—her prize. Your favorite hoodie, the one she had stolen more times than she could count, was draped over the back like an open invitation. She snatched it up without hesitation, pulling it over her head in one fluid motion before crawling onto your bed.

The scent of you surrounded her immediately, warm and familiar, sending a shiver down her spine. She nuzzled her face into the fabric, breathing deeply, letting it wrap around her like you would if you were here. The bed smelled like you too, and soon, she was tangled in the sheets, sighing as she settled in.

You had no idea how hard it was for her to wait for you. No idea how many times she had debated ditching her own plans just to be with you instead. But this? This was the next best thing.

Still, when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, she pulled it out, biting back a smug smile as she saw your name.

You: Why do I have a feeling you’re in my room right now?

She didn’t bother denying it.

Tara: I missed you.

It was simple. Honest. And she knew you’d understand.

—

Tara was startled out of her reverie by the sound of your footsteps approaching the dorm room door. Her heart began to race as she heard the key turn in the lock, and she quickly tossed your hoodie onto the floor beside the bed. She wanted to be lounging casually when you walked in, not caught red-handed.

The door swung open, and there you stood, your eyes widening slightly as you took in the sight of Tara sprawled out on your bed, her dark hair fanned out against your pillow. Tara flashed you a wicked grin, her brown eyes gleaming with mischief and something far more heated.

"Hey, Daddy," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "I was starting to think you'd never get back."

She sat up slowly, making sure to put an extra sway in her hips. The way her shirt rode up her toned midriff didn't go unnoticed by you, and she could see your gaze dip downwards before snapping back up to meet her own.

Tara licked her lips, her eyes roaming over your body hungrily. Being apart from you had left her feeling restless and achy, and now that you were here, she was determined to make up for lost time. She spread her legs slightly, just enough to give you a peek at what lay beneath her skirt.

"I missed you," she whispered, holding out her hand to you. "Come here, Daddy. I need you."

Her words were laced with desire, and the way she looked at you, with such open want and longing, sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core. She could see the effect she was having on you, the way your eyes darkened and your jaw clenched, and it only spurred her on.

Tara crawled towards the edge of the bed, her movements slow and deliberate. She stopped just short of falling off the side, her face now level with your chest. She could feel the heat radiating off your body, could smell the scent of your cologne mingling with the slight sheen of sweat on your skin.

"Daddy," she breathed, her hand coming up to rest on your chest. "I thought about you all day. About this." She pressed her palm flat against your chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of your heart. "About us."

Her other hand slid down your stomach, her fingers tracing your stomach through your shirt.

Tara shivered as she felt your large hand wrap around her delicate wrist, halting the downward trajectory of her fingers. She looked up at you with hooded eyes, her breath catching in her throat as she took in the intense, almost feral look on your face. A thrill ran through her as you mumbled those two simple words.

"Oh, really?" you asked, your grip tightening slightly on her wrist. Your other hand came up to cup her chin, tilting her face up towards yours. Your thumb brushed over her lower lip, tracing the soft, plump swell of it before pressing down, parting it from its twin.

Tara's tongue darted out, flicking against the pad of your thumb before drawing it into her mouth. She sucked lightly, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin as she held your gaze. She could feel the heat of your body, the power emanating from you, and it made her feel small and helpless in the best possible way.

"Yes, Daddy," she breathed, her words slightly muffled around your thumb. "I thought about you all day. About this. About you touching me, tasting me, fucking me until I can't think of anything else but your name."

She nipped at your thumb before releasing it, a wicked glint in her eye. "I'm so fucking wet for you, Daddy. I've been touching myself, imagining it was your hands on me, your fingers inside me. But it's not the same. It's not enough."

She pressed herself closer to you, until her breasts were flush against your chest, until she could feel every inch of your body against her own. "I need you, Daddy," she whimpered, her nails digging into your chest. "Please. I need you to fuck me. I need you to claim me, to make me yours."

She captured your mouth in a searing kiss, pouring all of her pent-up desire and desperation into it. She licked into your mouth, her tongue tangling with yours, tasting you, consuming you. She arched her body against you, soft curves meeting hard planes, until she was practically climbing up your body, trying to get as close to you as physically possible.

Tara moaned into the kiss, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. She could feel the evidence of your arousal pressing against her stomach, hard and insistent, and it made her ache with a hunger she couldn't quite satisfy on her own.

She broke the kiss with a gasp, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her lips were kiss-swollen and damp, her eyes glazed with lust as she stared up at you with a mix of desperation and devotion.

Tara shuddered as your hands began to roam her body, your fingers deftly unbuttoning her shirt. She arched into your touch, craving more, always wanting to be closer to you. As each button popped open, more of her smooth, sun-kissed skin was revealed, and your breath caught in your throat at the sight.

"Fuck, Tara," you growled, pushing the fabric off her shoulders to expose the delicate lace of her bra. "You're so fucking beautiful. Such a perfect little thing, all curves and softness, just begging to be touched, to be claimed."

You hooked your fingers under the straps of her bra, easing them down her arms until it fell away, baring her breasts to your hungry gaze. You drank in the sight of her, the rosy peaks of her nipples already hardened with arousal, just waiting for your touch.

"Look at these perfect tits," you murmured, cupping the soft mounds in your large hands. "They fit in my palms like they were made for me. Made to be squeezed, to be sucked, to be marked by my fingers and my mouth and my cock."

Tara whimpered as you rolled her nipples between your fingers, tugging gently before pinching and twisting them. Jolts of pleasure shot through her, making her writhe beneath you.

"Please, Daddy," she begged, her back arching off the bed as she pressed her breasts more fully into your palms. "Touch me more. I need to feel you everywhere."

Your hands slid down her sides, over the dip of her waist and the flare of her hips, before gripping the waistband of her skirt. With a sharp tug, you yanked it down her legs, leaving her in nothing but a pair of tiny panties that did little to hide her arousal.

"Fuck, you're soaked," you groaned, running a finger over the damp fabric. "Such a needy little thing, so desperate for my cock. Don't worry, baby girl, Daddy's going to give you exactly what you need."

You peeled the scrap of lace down her legs, tossing it carelessly to the floor. Then, with a hand on her stomach, you pushed her back against the bed, settling yourself between her spread thighs.

"I'm going to taste this pretty pussy," you promised, your breath hot against her core.

Tara gasped as you settled between her thighs, her fingers tangling in your hair as you leaned in close. She could feel your breath, hot and heavy, washing over her most intimate places, making her ache with a hunger she couldn't quite satisfy.

"Yes, Daddy," she whimpered, her hips rocking slightly, seeking more of that delicious friction. "Please, taste me. I'm so fucking wet for you, I need your mouth on me."

She spread her legs wider, opening herself up to you completely. The scent of her arousal filled the air, musky and sweet, a silent invitation for you to take what you wanted.

You didn't hesitate. You dove in, your tongue parting her folds in one long, slow lick. Tara cried out, her back arching off the bed as pleasure exploded through her. Your tongue was hot and wet and perfect, and it sent shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through her body.

"Oh, fuck yes," she moaned, her fingers tightening in your hair as she held you against her. "Just like that, Daddy. Lick my pussy just like that."

You groaned against her, the vibrations only adding to her pleasure. Your tongue delved deep, fucking into her entrance, tasting her essence, devouring her whole.

Tara thrased and writhed beneath you, her thighs trembling, her stomach muscles clenching as you worked her over. She was so close already, teetering on the edge of oblivion, and you could feel her walls fluttering around your tongue, greedy and hungry.

Tara's eyes flew open as she felt you shift between her thighs, and her gaze dropped to your crotch just as you freed your hard, thick cock from the confines of your jeans. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips as she drank in the sight of you, her eyes dark with lust and desire.

"Oh my god, Daddy," she panted, her voice husky and low. "You're so fucking big. I love your cock, I love how it makes me feel so small and dainty."

She reached down, wrapping her small hand around your thick shaft, feeling it throb against her palm. She stroked you slowly, marveling at the way you fit in her grip, the way she could barely close her fingers all the way around you.

Tara whimpered as you pushed her hand away, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face before you tutted at her. She bit her lip, a mischievous glint in her eye as she looked up at you with a mix of defiance and submission.

Tara gasped as she felt your hard cock slap against her dripping folds, a shock of pleasure-pain shooting through her. Before she could process it, you were pushing forward, your thick shaft parting her lips and sinking deep into her tight, wet heat.

"Oh fuck!" Tara cried out, her back arching off the bed as you filled her in one swift, hard thrust. Her walls stretched deliciously around you, fitting you like a glove as you buried yourself to the hilt inside her.

You groaned at the feeling of her, so hot and tight and perfect around your aching cock. You could feel every inch of her, could feel her fluttering and clenching around you, trying to draw you deeper still.

"Yes, fuck, you're so deep," Tara panted, her nails digging into your shoulders as she clung to you. "You're stretching me so good."

Tara's eyes rolled back, fluttering closed in bliss as you began to move, pulling out until just the tip remained before slamming back in. She cried out with each powerful thrust, her voice echoing off the dorm room walls as you pounded into her relentlessly.

"Yes, Daddy, fuck me harder!" Tara begged, wrapping her legs around your waist to pull you in deeper. "I want to feel you in my fucking womb."

The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room as you fucked her harder, faster, spurred on by her desperate cries.

After a while, Tara could feel you getting close, your thrusts becoming more erratic, more urgent. She could feel your cock throbbing inside her, growing harder, hotter, as you chased your release.

Tara gasped as you suddenly pulled out of her, leaving her feeling empty and aching for your touch. Before she could protest, you were gripping her hips and flipping her over onto her knees, her face pressed against the mattress.

"Yes, Daddy," she panted, quickly shifting to comply. She got onto her hands and knees, looking back at you over her shoulder with hooded, lust-filled eyes. "What do you need, baby? Tell me what you want."

She wiggled her ass invitingly, the globes of her cheeks jiggling with the motion. She could feel her pussy throbbing, dripping with arousal, as she presented herself to you.

Tara let out a yelp of surprise as your hand connected with her ass, the sharp sting quickly morphing into pleasure that raced through her veins. Before she could dwell on it, you were pushing back inside her, hilting yourself in her tight, wet heat once more.

"Yes, fuck yes!" she cried out, pushing her hips back to meet your thrusts. Her pussy clenched around you, gripping your shaft like a velvet vice as you rubbed her clit in tight, fast circles. Tara could feel herself hurtling towards the edge embarrassingly fast, your fingers on her clit and your cock pounding into her sending her spiraling out of control.

Just as she was about to come undone, you pulled out abruptly, leaving Tara whimpering and empty. But before she could voice her protest, you were painting her ass white with your hot, thick seed, marking her as yours. Tara shuddered, a moan escaping her lips as she felt your release coating her skin, claiming her.

Once you had recovered, you lowered yourself down, your face now level with her dripping core. She could feel your breath, hot and heavy, washing over her sensitive flesh, making her throb with anticipation.

"Yes, Daddy, please," she whimpered, reaching down to tangle her fingers in your hair. "Please, I need your mouth on me. I need to come so fucking bad."

Her plea turned into a high-pitched keen as you leaned in and ran your tongue along her slit, parting her folds and delving deep. Tara's head fell back, her eyes squeezing shut as pleasure exploded through her, radiating out from where your mouth was working magic on her aching cunt.

You licked and sucked, your tongue flicking over her clit before delving deep, fucking into her entrance with a fervor that left her breathless. At the same time, your fingers found her clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in tight, fast circles that had her seeing stars.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Tara chanted, her hips rocking against your face as she chased her release. She could feel it building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in her core until it finally snapped and she was coming undone with a scream of your name.

Her pussy clenched and spasmed around nothing, gushing her release as you worked her through it, extending her pleasure until she was collapsing against the bed, boneless and sated.

Tara collapsed onto the bed, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her skin was flushed and damp, her hair a wild mess around her face as she stared up at the ceiling, a fucked-stupid grin on her lips.

"Holy shit, baby," she panted, turning her head to look at you with hazy, satisfied eyes. "That was...fuck, that was incredible. You always know just what I need."

[zinesbycee]

i can definitely understand this, and agree with a lot of it. i'd like to highlight some of the issues not broadly covered by this post, though:

-a universal price (translated directly from £ to $ etc) inherently excludes people from countries with lower average incomes. when it's proportionally more expensive for people from poorer countries, it's not a worldwide universal experience like they're framing it as

-the merchandise is only available in ~15 countries. countries excluded include basically all of the continents of Africa and Asia. obviously no one is entitled to the right to buy merch, but it's disheartening that none is available to such wide swathes of the world (again while the online event is treated like it's worldwide and accessible to all). the exclusion of Japan specifically feels kinda weird given the multiple videos themed around Japan and the entire merchline themed around Japan - if they're gonna profit from Japanese imagery, it'd be nice if they could include Japanese fans in merch.

-the refunds are being issued very slowly if at all - i bought and then emailed for a refund VERY quickly after the announcement, and have only had the automatic refund of a very small portion that's being issued universally. i imagine i was one of the very first to contact kiswe, and have had no acknowledgement of this contact. i'm not demanding instant response - i understand that these things take time - but i have yet to see ANYONE get a response or a full refund

-the company is seemingly making false claims, such as that only paypal users were impacted by the various issues, when even just in the replies there are multiple people who paid by card who were impacted. it's frustrating that they're whitewashing the scale of the fuckery.

-the company is the same one used for dan's tour livestream, with whom there were assorted issues (such as merch not being dispatched for 4 weeks with broken tracking links, and pro-palestine sentiments being censored in chat). it would have been nice if a different company was chosen, or if those problems were acknowledged more widely by kiswe.

-many people have reported quality issues with TIT merch, including packs of cards containing 5 duplicates, designs on shirts dissolving after one wash, and holes wearing through jumpers after one wash. the response has been slow (i'm personally a month in to my wait for replacement merch for something i got that was defective), and it's just another element of Frustrated With Dan And Phil As A Brand that people are dealing with at the moment.

everyone who worked on the tour deserves to be recompensed for their labour. dan and phil deserve to be recompensed for their labour. the company who run the livestream (whether that be kiswe or any other company) has workers who deserve to be recompensed. but this is a series of fuckeries that primarily negatively impact viewers who already didn't get to see the show live and which was avoidable.

i largely agree with you op, and i definitely think some people have been INCREDIBLY disproportionate. i just also think it's important to not minimise the significance of the problems and also to highlight the specific criticisms from, for example, African and Asian viewers.

(sorry for the many words lol, genuinely 0 hate or anger or frustration to op at all, i'm mostly expanding on the situation as a whole because i feel like there's a lot of nuance and details that only people Deeply Chronically Online know about. i also remember tabinof (and i remember the criticisms when danandphilshop was launched, and when dan and phil had separate online stores back in like 2011, and when they did the sim etc - i've also been around a long time and have seen a LOT of ridiculous, petty shit go down in this fandom) and i remember the deeply disproportionate comments (and video responses holy shit). i just think there's a Lot more substance to this topic than many of the others <3

maybe a hot take idk

look I know many people are upset about the pricing/fee situation of the TIT livestream (me included, I was pissed as hell that I got a large surprise fee), and I hope everything gets sorted out. I’m proud of the phandom for being loud and demanding fairness from the platform. you will not get shit past us.

I understand that. however, I completely disagree with some opinions I’ve seen (mainly on twitter but whatever) that charging for the stream at all is greedy, especially for people who have already paid to see the show. this is a weird take imo because this stream is supposed to be an opportunity for people who didn’t get to go to see it with an audience as a communal experience. but if you already spent money and don’t want to spend more, don’t!

and I don’t know anything about anything but based on the very little information dnp have provided about the cost of touring, I really don’t think they have the option to just do the stream for free. this is just my opinion, but based on how dan said he lost money touring WAD, i would not be surprised if the livestream paid for the rights he needed to release it for free on YouTube (and the extremely important rights to play All Star in the credits). just because he wrote and performed it doesn’t mean he owned it. it would not surprise me at all if the profits from the stream don’t go to dnp only.

and also, Things Cost Money, including livestreams. I think the platform has really showed their ass, but if we remove them from the equation for a second - everyone who put on TIT, including Dan and Phil, deserve to be compensated for their work. I don’t expect them to bleed money into this project forever just because it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I’m sure they’re doing just fine financially, but they are not and never have asked anyone to take food off their table to support them.

I actually find it really disheartening to see just how many people were like, legitimately, personally angry with dnp before they had even had a chance to respond to our concerns. I’ve been around long enough to remember when they announced TABINOF, there was an uproar about how they were sellouts because they were writing a book just like every other youtuber, making a shitty cashgrab when they had nothing to say. in the 2 days before we knew what the book would even be about, the Discourse had never been more annoying or mean spirited.

and it made me wonder, what are yall doing here if you assume the worst like that? have you just been waiting for the masks to slip? are you appalled that they participate in the heinous capitalistic act of selling their labor like everyone else? have your years of support not earned a little bit of grace when there’s a miscommunication?

I’m not saying approach everything like ‘they’ve never done anything wrong once in their whole lives and never will’, but the vitriol that seems to come out at minor fuck ups is alarming. some of yall do not like them and it shows. (I am looking directly at twitter dot com now)

I find that attitude really sad. after the TABINOF drama, I promised myself I’d never lose sleep over phandom nonsense again, so I’m going to bed, just had to get some thoughts out there. 💙

[ishasturnz]

Perv!readers and Matt’s first “interaction”

⤷ warnings: FILTH. vulgar language (if you squint). Very bad grammar. no p in the v yet. Very short. not proofread. POV’s switch a bit.

wc: 1626

PERV!READERS POV

Matt, he’s been lurking. For a while actually. He might’ve not known I knew, but I did. But for some reason— I liked the feeling of him watching me, it felt almost.. pleasurable?

Every. Single. Day. The unholy thoughts started catching up to me, thinking about him in class, in my dorm, even the shower. Before they were tame, but once weeks passed by, I started to think about all the positions he’d put me in, how many inches his dick was, did it have more girth or length?

Yeah I might’ve had a bit of a past with being a bit pervy when it came to being watched, stealing my past boyfriends shirts to smell as I played with myself. But that didn’t mean anything obviously— or did it?

I knew it was wrong. Any reasonable person would be making a police report right now, but me? I liked the thrill of it all. I knew he loved it too.

But I didn’t know everything. Not yet. This was his plan, the entire plan. To keep me needy and on my toes.

He’s been studying, he’s been studying me. He knew I didn’t pay attention to small things such as this. He knew my dorm number, who I was friends with, my classes, who I absolutely despised.

How’d he get all this information? Who knows,‘cause I definitely didn’t for the most part. Yeah maybe I did notice a few of my panties going missing every once in a while, I always mistook it as me misplacing them.

Valentines day with no boyfriend? Had a stalker who gives me teddy bears, did the though of a camera being inside of it EVER cross my mind?

No. No, it didn’t at all once so ever. Because I didn’t care. I desired to be watched. Clearly nothing came over my mind.

I never noticed the cameras set up everywhere in my dorm.

Watching my every move.

taglist: @courta13 // @jensturnss // @pvssychicken // @louilies // @cvnts4demi // @bluebanisterscoded // @scorpio1205 // @joanakaulitz // @theyluvivi // @angelic-sturniolos111 // @bamsblooming //

Credit!!: @enchanthings.

[t-a-a-1]

WAIT OK SO IK IT WAS ANGSTY BUT IMAGINE THE COMEDY. OPTIMUS WOULD PROBABLY BE IN AWE OF READER FOR THE PREGNANCY.

Things that humans have evolved and adapted to would fascinate and terrify this poor bot. He’d be so confused and concerned.

Optimus: The baby grows inside of you…where, exactly?

Reader: My uterus. It’s made to stretch and expand to accommodate the baby. When they’re born though, there’s going to be a wound inside that’s about the side of a plate.

Optimus:….wound…?

Or like an epidural! What you mentioned before.

Optimus: Will there be pain?

Reader; oh, definitely. But there’s this medicine that they can inject into my spine to make sure I don’t feel the pain. I’ll feel the pressure though.

Optimus: t-they inject medicine? Into your spine? How big is the needle?

Reader: Probably the length of your finger. It’ll have to stay there the entire time I’m in labor though.

Optimus: **FAINTS**

LIKE??? Optimus is just learning all of this and his human, the love of his entire existence, is like “yea I’m scared because of the alien hybrid thing. But humans have been doing this since they came into existence.”

Primus help him if he finds out that reader can develop chronic conditions after the birth. Like reader becoming Allergic to their own skin or developing an autoimmune disease. (It does happen!)

Optimus: y-your body can just turn against you? Because of this?

Reader: Yea, it happens. It’s more common than people think.

Optimus:….i need to speak to Ratchet….

He’s so concerned but also so amazed that humanity has survived as long as they have. This sounds like an evolutionary nightmare for him. Poor Ratchet is going to be hearing about this.

Optimus: After the sparkling is born. Their brain can just…stop working, Ratchet. Their immune system can just turn and attack itself. They will have a wound the size of my hand inside them, ratchet! And this planet expects them to only have 8 weeks to rest! What the fuck is humanity??? How have they survived this long??

Ratchet: ….please go recharge, Prime.

Optimus would probably look at birth-procedure videos and would totally faint.

Not only that but I think Optimus would be EXTRA EXTRA cautious about everything.

Then, he would ask Ratchet if there's less painful ways for you to give birth.

And Ratchet jokingly says: "Well, next time, what if you get sparked instead?

Optimus: .... hold up.

I have the head-canon that getting sparked is at random. First its you (the sparkling having more human-like-features) and then its Optimus (sparkling having more cybertronian features) BUT the comedy aspects starts when the one who's not preggos is the one who gets all the symptoms.

Like if you are the pregnant one then Optimus would be the one to have back pains, throwing up, feeling nauseous, cravings and even get emotional.

Optimus: Look at me, I let myself go ... I've become bigger.

You: You are fine OP. It's me who's gonna get bigger once the baby starts to grow inside of me.

Optimus: That's what everyone says but when you least expect it, you'll leave me for a new-model bot.

You: ... What?

OP: Don't say you won't, I see the way you look at new cars.

I see Optimus being the one to take classes for first time parents and even start writing a book: 'The Journey of The First Cybertronian-Human Sparkling: A Guide For Interspecies Parents."

If he is the one carrying the Sparkling then you get all the symptoms. Although he feels bad for you, he is assured you at least won't have to deal with the complications of childbirth. For your safety, he very much prefers to be sparked up by you<3

Thanks for the ask anon!

[moonlitenvyillust]

Hey TeleNeo fans, want some pain? No? Too bad here you go

Tags: men crying (why would that be a warning tbh), angst (or at least a try out of writing angst), love letters but the sender is dead, major character death, Telemachus is mentioned but is the sender, EURYCLEA MY QUEEN, Neo cries <3, don't you love making character's suffer, ancient Greek gays, TELENEO CLUB HAS FOUR/FIVE MEMBERS ISTG-, deprived of content. So I'll write it!, me being a tired bitch, based on: "to my dear Historia" With too many alterations.

•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙|-π-|⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

And so the letter ends.

The second he heard of the great Odysseus's return, he felt a pang of relief for Telemachus. His beloved finally got the one thing he had dreamed of for his entire life. He couldn't help but feel a little jealous... He never got such reunion with his own father. The great Achilles had died and that was why he was drafted to war.

He immediately set sail to Ithaca as he heard the news. He finished his little quest and immediately jumped onto a ship. His little mind could not comprehend how much he missed the island, but more over, how much he missed his Telemachus

Walking down from the ship to the docs, he was just about to go to the palace when-

"Excuse me, Lord Neoptolemus?"

That voice... Neo remembered her, that's Telemachus's nurse maid, Euryclea.

"It's so hard to try and find you, here, a favor from the prince"

She handed him a letter, albeit an not so old not so new looking one. Atleast a few weeks old. A stain is seen on the edge... Coffee? No, that's the colour of Telemachus's meds when it dries on white.

And the letter wrote...

"To my dear, Phyrrus

As I write this, my health is severely declining. I wished to give this letter to you directly–hell, maybe even say the words I wish to say. But my voice has been lost through my last fight with a suitor. He hit me hard enough, I think I broke my vocal chords. However I of course had asked Euryclea for her word, to give this to you during your next visit. I know for a fact you are a busy man, multiple quests given to you at a time. Henceforth I didn't send this letter, I didn't want to worry you and give you an unsafe return.

That said, I want to be selfish. Just for once. I swear it. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you sooner. But even before the suitors plagues my life, I had been dying. In a literal sense.

My body is weaker than an average man and it's not only because of the fact I am untrained, but it's because of severe health disorders... Yes I have been training under Athena, but that doesn't mean my chronic pain just Dissapears. It gets worse, actually. But I can deal with it. Usually

I have realized that my time is no longer than at least a few weeks when this letter is wrote. The headaches had been more frequent, I fall over with leg pains more often, and it just overall shows a sign that my name is in the "to reap" Soul list of Thanatos.

I love you, more than how I would love a friend. But not able to be as a lover, for you deserve someone better. Someone stronger. Someone... Your height of glory. But I shall let myself be selfish for my last few days. I love you.

I ask for my body to only be burnt when you made an appearance. I know it's so much to ask. But words spread fast and you run faster.

So, if I die before you return... Consider this as my goodbye."

It had been a while since the last time Phyrrus cried

But just this once

He let himself weep

•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙|-π-|⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

I had a vague idea for this after watching a "to my dear Historia" Edit, so have this. Share my pain.

@ list because I know who would like this stuff @cutob @no1teleneoshipper @lenamiyabi @lemonade-tree7 here you go. We are deprived of content tbh. Have angst, almost forgot @kindred-spirit-93

[sturnsblogs]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆More than best-friends‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Chapter 4: Slipping Up

Chris sat on the couch at Avery’s house, scrolling through his phone while absentmindedly eating a bag of chips. Avery was beside him, legs crossed, painting her nails with an expensive-looking polish.

“You’re quiet,” she said after a few moments, barely looking up from her nails.

Chris blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. “Huh?”

Avery sighed, setting the bottle of polish down. “You’ve barely said two words since you got here. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he muttered.

It wasn’t nothing, though. It had been over a week since he’d talked to you, and the silence was starting to get to him. He told himself it was fine, that it wasn’t a big deal. But the truth was, he missed you. He missed how things used to be.

With you, everything had been effortless. You actually got him. You laughed at his dumb jokes, you never took things too seriously, and you didn’t judge him when he did something stupid just for the hell of it.

Avery? she was different.

“Chris, ew,” she suddenly groaned, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He frowned. “What?”

“You’re chewing so loud,” she complained, her face twisted in disgust. “And you’re talking with your mouth full. It’s actually disgusting.”

Chris blinked, looking at her like she had just spoken a different language. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously,” Avery huffed. “God, you’re like a little kid sometimes.”

Without thinking, Chris rolled his eyes and said, “Relax, Y/N.”

Silence.

It took a second for the words to register. But when they did, his entire body tensed.

Avery slowly turned to look at him, her expression unreadable at first. But then her lips pressed together, her eyes narrowed slightly, and he knew—he knew—he had just messed up.

“What,” she said, voice eerily calm, “did you just call me?”

Chris felt his stomach drop. “Shit.”

“Avery,” he corrected quickly, sitting up straighter. “I meant Avery. It was a mistake.”

Avery let out a humorless laugh, standing up from the couch. “A mistake? You accidentally called me your ex-best friend’s name? Wow, Chris, that’s so convincing.”

Chris sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Avery, come on, I didn’t mean to—”

“You did mean to,” she snapped, crossing her arms. “You don’t just accidentally say someone else’s name unless you’re thinking about them. So go ahead, Chris. Tell me how much you miss her.”

“I didn’t say that,” Chris muttered, though the guilty look on his face didn’t help his case.

Avery scoffed. “You didn’t have to.”

Chris exhaled, already feeling the headache forming. “Avery, don’t do this.”

“Do what?” she shot back, voice sharp. “Acknowledge the fact that you’re clearly still obsessed with her?”

“I’m not obsessed with her,” Chris snapped, standing up now too. “She was my best friend. Of course I miss her.”

“Oh my god,” Avery laughed, shaking her head. “Chris, do you even hear yourself? Was your best friend? You still talk about her like she’s the most important person in your life.”

Chris clenched his jaw, trying to keep himself from saying something he’d regret.

“You haven’t talked to her in a week, but she’s still on your mind so much that you just called me her name?” Avery continued, her voice rising. “That’s not just some stupid mistake, Chris. That’s proof that you still want her around!”

Chris groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. “Avery, I don’t want to fight about this.”

“Of course you don’t,” she scoffed. “Because then you’d have to admit that you’d rather be with her than with me.”

“That’s not true,” Chris argued, though even he wasn’t sure how much he believed it.

Avery tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “Then answer one thing for me, Chris. And be honest.”

He exhaled, already dreading whatever was coming next. “What?”

“Do you like her?”

Chris blinked. His stomach twisted at the question.

“What?” he said, as if he hadn’t heard her right.

Avery crossed her arms tighter. “You heard me. Do you like Y/N?”

Chris opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. He wanted to say no, to immediately shut it down. But the hesitation—the damn hesitation—hung in the air, suffocating them both.

Avery scoffed. “Wow.”

Chris shook his head. “Avery, come on. It’s not like that.”

“Then say no,” she challenged. “Say you don’t have feelings for her.”

Chris clenched his jaw. He could lie. He should lie. But for some reason, the words refused to leave his mouth.

Avery let out a dry laugh, her eyes flashing with something between anger and disappointment. “That’s what I thought.”

Chris exhaled sharply, feeling completely drained from the argument. “Avery, I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to be honest with yourself,” she said, her voice lower now but still sharp. “And maybe—just maybe—I want to be with a guy who actually wants to be with me, not someone who’s too busy missing another girl to realize what he already has.”

Chris clenched his fists at his sides. “Avery—”

“No,” she cut him off. “I think you should go.”

Chris stared at her, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on him. But at the same time, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to stay.

Without another word, he grabbed his phone, shoved it in his pocket, and walked out the door.

And for the first time in weeks, he didn’t even pretend to ignore the ache in his chest.

A/N- I think i like this 🙂

THANK YOU SO SO SO SO MUCH TO @blushsturns for help. i love this girl so much.

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @chrislilcumslvt @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @mylittled0ve @oopsiedaisydeer

TAGLIST FOR MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 3

[madefortherain]

february fic recs ⋆ ༘⁀➷

the end of february means it’s, once again, time to shout about my favourite reads of the month! (same as last month, tagging authors i know the blogs of, but feel free to lmk if you want anything changed/removed) <3

multichapter:

Astronomia Nova by sreka (@smodernlife) - T, 35k. sirius raising harry, meets beautiful librarian remus and subsequently ruins a priceless book (meet-ugly everybody cheer!!). absolutely adored this!!

Be My Baby by pixelated (prettyremus) - M, 21k. dirty dancing au!! enough said just with that, really, but also the way queer themes are woven into the original story is so cool!

The Proctor House by @eyra - M, 5.2k, MCD. i honestly think it’s best to go into this one fairly blind. just let the beautiful writing take you where it wants to, it’s so so worth it. this one has stayed with me since i read it.

you don’t have to be alone (when you’re the place i wanna go) by @quiethauntings - E, 37k. remus reunites with his friends on a trip to the scottish highlands. nostalgia bottled into a fic! a very lovely depiction of loneliness and rekindling friendships. really beautiful!

Of Prefects, Pretence, and Precedent by Whoops_E - M, 121k. shouting this one out again because it’s now complete!!! i’m immediately diving in for a full reread. i go insane for this fic and specifically think about the grape jam chapter approximately 30 times a week.

oneshots:

nightlights by sadgeminimoon - T, 9.2k. single parent remus raising teddy, & sirius who helps out far too well. the pining!! adored this. i, too, would lose it if i came home to find sirius black doing a load of my laundry.

The Best By Far Is You by orphan_account - T, 13k. padfoot and moony are tumblr mutuals, while blind remus hires sirius as a reader for his classes. i believe this one is fairly well-known, but i only just got to it and it’s so so wonderful! there are also 7 more shorter oneshots (ratings vary) following this, all of which i subsequently inhaled. really recommend the entire Tumblr Trash series! (E, 35k total)

Perfect by wanderingdonut - T, 3.7k. ace4ace wolfstar learning to love each other :’) such a wonderful acespec story, i adored this <3

A Cup of Sugar by MsAlexWP (@languagelessonswolfstar) - T, 5.3k. harry pov feat. disabled harry and disabled remus (bonding!!). so sweet, such great disability rep, and adorable little peeks of wolfstar! loooved this!!

WIPs:

Let me Believe (Ever After) by @brigid-faye - M, 6/12, 47k. ever after: a cinderella story (1998) au! sad-eyed prince remus, riches to rags sirius. such great characterisations, relationships, and storytelling. i devoured these chapters so quickly!

Brave Face by @zoemillinwrites - M, 28/?, 252k, MCD. a canon-divergent, sirius-centric fic starting in hogwarts first year. such real and raw characters, being a little in love with your friends, and some of the cleverest, most unique magic explanations i’ve ever read. seriously, can’t emphasise enough how SO insanely cool the magic is!! (also shouting out the accompanying Story Shards WIP (E, 1/?, 4.3k) for some brilliant extra character studies!)

four thousand holes by aeridi0nis (@steelycunt) - E, 2/5, 41k. pride (2014) au. lesbians and gays support the miners; sirius is part of the organisation, remus is the son of a miner. truly so so obsessed with this premise. and the writing!! incredible, incredible prose.

As You Walk On By (Will You Call My Name?) by @imsiriuslyreading - M, 6/15, 23k, jily!!!! royalty au AND university au in one! royal james and eat-the-rich lily, creating such a fun jily dynamic. + a lovely dose of background wolfstar, too :)

[cheesus-doodles]

More thoughts on Izana and Rindou's BFF, how did bestie deal with or find out about the aftermath of the battle against Toman? How did bestie react to Izana dying and Rindou going to jail once again? and how does Rindou feel about being separated from bestie once again? In canon the Tenjiuku members stayed behind and willingly got arrested, but in this scenario I can't imagine Rindou willingly staying behind and knowing he'd be separated from bestie.

why friend why would you make me think about this ;w; first and only time imma write about this because it's digging into memories in an uncomfortable place...

Rindo Tags | Masterlist

‎

tw: major character death, discussion about death & depression

I actually think that Rindo would willingly stay behind and go to juvenile prison with the rest of the remaining Tenjiku executives after Izana’s death, despite knowing that would mean a separation from you, his BFF.

My reasoning for this is that despite the way Izana has treated his subordinates, I think all the executives hold a lot of respect for the Tenjiku President and look up to him, either as some sort of role model or just in awe of his abilities. So no doubt that Rindo and the other executives would feel a lot of guilt over how they let things get so out of hand with Kisaki’s involvement that it resulted in his death, though I think the person bearing the most guilt would most likely still be Kakucho (after he had recovered), given he already knew how dangerous and poisonous Kisaki had been to Izana's psyche from the start.

Rindo's fraying at the edges at having been dealt so many heavy emotions and events to handle at the same time. Losing Izana was one gut punch, but the realization that he would have to spend even longer away from you - this time without anyone left to protect you on the outside - was another blow Rindo could barely take. The younger Haitani would spend a lot of time stewing over this, the sleepless nights only darkening his eyebags with every passing day, as Ran could barely force Rindo to eat, let alone call you to break the news.

Despite Rindo despising the closeness Izana shared with you, he still respected the tanned boy, and he knew that breaking the news to you would shatter your naive, glowing world, and it would be entirely his fault.

‎

Either way, you would eventually find out about it, one way or another, most likely through seeing Izana’s obituary in the local newspaper. Despite the beef between Mikey and Izana, I think Mikey did really want to reconnect with his long-lost brother, related or not, and the Sanos would treat Izana with the respect that Shinichiro would want him to be treated with. And despite being completely air-headed and naive, seeing who you thought was a good friend staring back at you from the newspaper would be like a punch in the gut. You'll have to reread it again and again, though it still didn't feel real.

Things become even worse when you happen across the article where you find out what really happened, a small blurb about a gang fight that ended with a casualty and a serious injury.

‎ Your world comes crashing down, the whole event leaving you stunned. You couldn't really accept it at first, even a week after the wake and funeral was over. Life went on as normal, you still attended school, ate by yourself, and then went home to struggle through homework, making sure to carve out time to visit Kakucho in hospital and Rindo in juvie. But then it was a regular sunny day after you had just visited Rindo that the sadness and grief began to set in, and you find yourself unable to stop the tears.

Your appetite crashes, and the nightmares became endless, not helped by the fact that Rindo couldn't be with you to scare off the darkness. The paranoia that settled in the base of your gut refused to be shaken, the constant whisper from the back of your head that you would lose Rindo, Ran, Kakucho in the same way.

It haunted your every thought, Izana's pale, lifeless body framed by the coffin, and your nightmares where you would see Rindo's face instead. Every bruise, cut and bandage he showed up with became another gnawing fear. You stopped going to school for a bit, taking a break to try and deal with the grief, to try and heal.

‎

Time does heal some wounds, and you eventually find yourself again, though that innocence lost never comes back. There's always a darkness in those eyes that Rindo couldn't unsee when you visit him, even though your jolly self returns, slowly. You aren't as trusting or open as you used to be, and though you stopped trying to convince Rindo to stop fighting entirely, Rindo notes that you started to track his bruises and injuries, the way your smile becomes more strained and you try to hide your clenched fists when he appears with new injuries.

[lxvebun]

and suddenly I see you in everything

synopsis: valentines day is just around the corner and you're going to have to come to terms with what you're feeling for satoru is more than just a silly little crush.

buns notes: this fic disappeard into the void and I had to rewrite it entirely🥲 it may be a little rusty bur I hope you all enjoy anyway!

content highschool! Gojo x highschool!Gender neutral reader. Fluff! Angst if you squint. Use of the nickname Sweetheart. Wingman!suguru tbh. Timeskips are indicated with the♡♡ symbols. Around 2.5k words. Eng is not my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes!

Spring is just around the corner, a thought that brings warmth after dull, cold winter days. In a few weeks, Plants and flowers will sprout their first leaves. In a few weeks sunlight will filter through the brances of lush trees. Everything that was once frozen over will blossom again, and the gray skies will give way to bright, clear blues. Spring will be here soon, and you're still lovesick over Satoru.

At this point, you're starting to believe that what you're feeling goes beyond just a silly little high school crush, beyond that puppylove you’ll soon move past and only remember fondly after you graduate—maybe even cringe a little at your past self. No, this is more than that, whether you want it to be or not. You're in love with Satoru—a love you're afraid will haunt you forever, because there will never be a day where you could ever forget someone like him. You see the reflection of his eyes when you look up into bright skies dotted with fluffy clouds. You’re reminded of his warmth with every summer’s sunlight. You see him in every lovely thing, your thoughts constantly drift off to him and with Valentine's Day rapidly approaching, you might as well see where this could lead

♡♡

“So, any plans for Valentine’s Day?” Suguru asks you, his tone a little too teasing for your liking. You're at the cafe down the street, your usual hangout place after school. Satoru and Shoko are waiting in line to order drinks for the table—green tea, an iced Americano, hot chocolate for you, and a sugar monstrosity for Satoru, no doubt. You and suguru have already claimed your spot at the table in the corner of the cafe, next to the window, the weather a mix of bright sunlight and sudden cloud breaks.

"Not sure if I have any. Why? Got something you want to ask me?" you deflect, hoping to steer the conversation into something more lighthearted, less serious. However, this is Suguru we’re talking about. 

"A new chocolate place opened up in the city a few days ago. Heard they have limited edition Valentine’s Day packages," You nod along with his words, unsure where this is going " You should get Satoru one."

The initial teasing tone has melted into something more mellow, velvet and persuasive..

"Suguru—"

"Just saying, it'd be the perfect start to a confession," he shrugs, glancing out the window. "I'm sure, to him, they will taste even better knowing they came from you," glancing at you from the side, his golden eyes trace your features to try and read what your thinking.

You avoid his gaze, instead letting your own gaze trail toward the line where Satoru and Shoko are still waiting. "I highly doubt he feels the same way, Sugu."

Suguru doesn't miss a bit. "I don't." He's says, almost sounding offended. "Just..." he sighs. "Visit the shop, will you? Just take a look"

Really, Satoru and Suguru are just as stubborn as the other. You've learned by now that there's no use in arguing further, so with a roll of your eyes and a deep sigh, You nod.

The conversation wraps up just as Satoru and Shoko return, drinks in hand.

"Hot chocolate for you, sweets. Satoru grins, placing the mug down infront of you. I convinced them to add extra whipped cream, you're welcome." He winks and plops down beside you, slinging his arm around your shoulders. You bite the inside of your lip, ignoring the fluttering of your heart along with the knowing glance Suguru sends your way.

♡♡

Would it be cowardly to back out now? you wonder, sitting on the steps leading up to school. The morning light, soft and diffused, wraps itself around the gates, casting long shadows across the pavement.. you sit there in absolute silence. Thoughts about your friendship, possible rejection and heartbreak flooding your mind.

Are you really willing to risk the friendship? Destroy what lovely thing you already have with Satoru?.

Too lost in thought, you don't even notice the footsteps behind you.

"Thought I'd find you here."

The voice breaks you out of your trance. It's Suguru.

You hadn't even realized how long you’d been sitting there, skin a little cold from the stone steps, the blue heart-shaped chocolate box, adorned with bows and frills heavy in your lap. 

Suguru’s footsteps are quiet as he approaches. He's quick to join you on the steps, dropping his bag with a soft thud, the sound breaking the stillness. The morning song of birds in the distance seems muffled, as if the world around you is suddenly put on pause. The box  feels even heavier now knowing Suguru has seen it, its weight sinking deeper into your lap, the ribbons at the corners of the box catching the sunlight, reminds you of how delicate your plan is—and how uncertain.

Settling beside you, he tilts his head slightly toward the box,

"I noticed the receipt in your bag yesterday." He nods toward the box. "Figured maybe you could use some extra support."

You glance at the box and then back to the quiet path leading up to the school gates, trying to avoid meeting his eyes. Suguru doesn’t push; instead, he lets the silence stretch for a few moments, the only sound being the faint rustling of the wind through the trees.

"I’m scared," you finally admit, your voice quiet, like the words are too fragile to say aloud.

Suguru’s expression softens and he shifts a little closer, his shoulder brushing against yours, offering a sense of stability.

"Of what?"

You take a shaky breath, before you speak. 

"What if this breaks our friendship?" The words leave your lips in a whisper, like they’re the heaviest thing you’ve ever said.

"It won’t," he's quick to say, his voice firm, but warm. There's no hesitation, not a hint of uncertainty.

"I feel silly giving this to him," you admit, your fingers tracing the ribbon on the box nervously, as if trying to untangle your thoughts along with the delicate fabric. 

Although he may not agree with your thought process, He doesn’t dismiss your feelings. Instead, he says softly, "Just don’t give up on the idea yet. I think it’s a lovely one."

The words settle in the space between you like a soft breath of air. His gaze is still on you, unwavering, like he’s watching for the shift in your face, the moment when you finally stop doubting yourself. You feel the warmth of his presence beside you, the way he’s not letting you shrink away into your own fear. It’s as if, for this one moment, he’s asking you to trust him, to trust that this leap, however uncertain to you, might be worth it.

♡♡

The rest of the day drags on, each minute feeling like an eternity. Your nerves are a tangled mess, and your mind replays every moment—every glance exchanged with Satoru, every time you tried to speak but backed out at the last second. It's exhausting, and you're once again questioning if it’s really worth it. the weight of the box in your bag—its meaning, its confession—feeling like a bone-splintering burden.

And Satoru’s been trying to get your attention, you can tell. He made small talk during lunch, his voice light and carefree, but you couldn’t match his energy. When he and Shoko joined you and Suguru on the steps earlier, he spoke to you with warmth, but you shut him out. Every time he looked at you, you quickly looked away, pretending to focus on anything but him. And you feel guilty, you really do, because you can see it's affecting him.

It doesn’t help that today feels like the worst possible day for everything to go wrong. Valentine’s Day—the one day meant for sweet gestures and heart-shaped confessions—has turned into the one day you fear could break your entire friendship along with your heart.

The bell signaling the end of the final period echoes down the hall, and your heart sinks. The day is almost over, and the time to get your confession out, to untangle the mess in your heart, is slipping away.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice the crumpled piece of paper flying toward you until it lands softly on your desk with a dull thud. You glance down, your heart skipping a beat as you recognize the familiar handwriting—messy, hurried, but unmistakably his.

Can we talk after school?

You hesitate, the paper crinkling in your hand as a million thoughts rush through your mind. Does he know? Does he feel the same way? Did Suguru say something?

From the corner of your eye, you see him looking your way, waiting for a response. You can't bring yourself to speak, instead you nod in his direction, unable to trust your voice. You want to say something—anything—but all you can do is stare at the note, the question lingering in the air suffocatingly so. What does he want to talk about?

The apologetic smile he sends your way when you finally meet his gaze does nothing to ease your nerves.

♡♡

Once the final bell rings, neither of you is in a hurry to pack your things. You watch as Satoru whispers something to Suguru before he and Shoko head out, leaving just the two of you behind.

For a moment, it's quiet, neither of you moves, both of you rooted to your seats. His posture is tense but after a few moments and a deep breath, he slowly stands and walks towards you.

Don’t panic. This is your chance. Your mind rings. It’s just the two of you . It’s perfect.

"Hey."

"Hi."

An awkward silence settles between you—one that you’ve never experienced with him before. He sighs, taking off his glasses and hanging them on the collar of his uniform, before crouching down in front of you. Gently, he takes your hands in his, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on the back of your hand.

"Listen," he begins, his eyes nervously flickering between your own, he takes a deep breath before speaking. "I’m really, really sorry..." his voice wavers a little, and you notice how his hands tremble as they hold yours.

"Why are you apologizing?"

He swallows hard before continuing "you've been avoiding me today, and I know I must have done something incredibly stupid-"

"Oh... no. Satoru, you didn’t do anything wrong! it’s just..."

He waits for you to finish your sentence, more patient than you’ve ever seen him.

"It’s Valentine’s Day," you mumble.

"It is," he agrees, voice gentle but urging you to go on.

You pull one hand out of his grip to dig into your bag, pulling out the heart-shaped box. Hesitantly, you offer it to him.

"And I wanted to give this to you." You want to say more, throw out the entire speech you’ve rehearsed in your head, but your voice trembles, and your throat feels like its filled with cotton.

This is it.

Satoru blinks once, then twice, before his face lights up with the brightest, pearliest smile you’ve ever seen. He eagerly grabs the box, still holding onto your other hand. "This is why you’ve been avoiding me?" he asks, his voice filled with a hint of disbelief.

Satoru's eyes soften. "Y/n, Did you really think I’d reject you?" He asks softly

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the disbelief in his voice as if the idea of him rejecting you was the strangest thing in the world.

His hand still holds yours, his gaze never leaves you and then, his voice a little quieter and a little more breathy now, but still warm with that signature teasing charm.

" sweetheart, Let me take you out on a date—just the two of us."

Almost instantly, the weight of the confession, the uncertainty that had been hanging between you two, seems to evaporate. Your heart flutters, and you can’t help but smile back at him.

"I’d love that," you reply, your voice softer now, filled with a mix of relief and excitement.

[bellaxgiornata]

random jax thought that i must unleash:

a marilyn monroe ‘Happy Birthday Mr.President’ moment with jax?? i feel like that man would lose his mind tbh

Ohhh! Please unleash any and all Jax thoughts you have! And okay, I read this ask from you the other night and I've been thinking about it nonstop because it gave me another thought, so let me add another little layer onto this with a little headcanon of mine--singing happy birthday to Jax in lingerie.

HEAR ME OUT. I have a strangely strong belief that Jax has little experience being able to appreciate actual lingerie, not just a sexy bra and panties set. Think about it--the man never really did relationships after Tara left just after high school besides marrying Wendy. And Wendy probably spent her money on drugs and alcohol instead of legitimate lingerie because why the hell would she? I'm guessing most hangarounds at the clubhouse weren't dressed in lingerie beneath their clothes because it just doesn't seem logical (and that shit is expensive). Now, maybe some of the pornstars from Caracara could've had some sort of costume or something he'd enjoyed, but considering how we've seen them in 'the morning after' scenes in the show, I'm guessing they wouldn't really be wearing any lingerie, either. Most of Jax's sex is just spur of the moment, which just doesn't go hand in hand with dressing for it, you know?

So I'm throwing some headcanon thots on this out below the cut (clearly 18+ like everything on my blog). It's also an idea I want to explore in far more detail in my Jax fic All That I Can Give with my ex-prostitute!Reader who works at Diosa. Because I just want Jax to have some fun with lingerie, alright? I genuinely believe he hasn't had the pleasure of something so simple.

Jax is not the kind of guy who would make a big deal out of his birthday. In fact, he probably forgets it every year. And the guys at the clubhouse probably do, too. It comes and goes like every other damn day to him and he doesn't even think twice about it.

Except you do. Because you wouldn't forget his birthday. You've been planning an evening at home with him when he's finally done dealing with club business for over a week now. And maybe it's not some massive birthday party that you're throwing for him, and you don't have any expensive gift to give him, but you do have something you're wanting to do--surprise him with lingerie.

You're already dressed in it waiting in the bedroom when he comes home, a nervous excitement flooding you the moment you hear him cut the engine on his bike before you hear the front door open a minute later. And then you hear Jax's usual "Where you at, baby?" greeting you from down the hall before you call out from the bedroom.

The moment Jax sees you sitting on the end of the bed, legs crossed in the sexy number you have on with a cake in your lap, his entire demeanor shifts. The tension and exhaustion from his day just disappears from his body instantly and a devilish grin spreads across his mouth instead. His eyes slowly and openly rake over you in clear approval because "Goddamn, baby, where did this little thing come from?"

And when you tell him you bought it just for his birthday, making him sit down on the bed as you set the cake aside on the dresser--where, let's be real, it's going to be forgotten for quite awhile--Jax is practically salivating as his hands keep pawing at you. He's grabbing at your ass and your thighs, your breasts and your back. His eyes don't even know where the hell to focus, just continually roaming all over you as he thinks about how he wants to have you first in that damn thing.

But when you start singing happy birthday to him, sitting down in his lap on the bed, neither of you give a shit whether you can actually sing well or not. Jax is already half-hard, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he waits for you to finish--but he can't even manage that. You don't even get all the way through singing before he's spinning you on his lap to straddle him, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of you like it's the first time all over again.

You can damn well guarantee you won't be leaving the bedroom for the rest of the night. Jax is going to have you over and over in every goddamn position he can fold you into just so he can appreciate every angle of your body in that lingerie set. "Fuck, baby, you're not taking this off tonight. I'm gonna fucking ruin you in it."

[leighsartworks216]

BESTIE SAY WHAT!!!!! 👀

so.. I’m just here to put it on the record that I will be the first person in line to read your take on Caleb x Zayne in an empty classroom if you ever feel so inclined. I mean, in public!? Desperately muffling their noises while trying to make each other crack!? Also it’s between classes, that’s not a lot of time so you know that’s going to be quick and hard and sloppy…

anywayyy >.< just casually sending you back a plot bunny in exchange for yours, you know how it is *evil cackle* <33

Evil Plot Bunnies my beloved >:3

Like just imagine Caleb spotting Zayne on his way to class. Running over through the horde of students and slinging an arm around his shoulders. Says he needs to talk about something with him, a lame excuse when Zayne can clearly see just how flustered Caleb is - red cheeks, heavier breaths, eyes that keep flickering to his lips

Caleb dragging Zayne into an empty classroom that he's been lowkey eyeballing for a couple weeks, keeping track of classes that go in there and when. Zayne asks what the hell he's thinking as Caleb pulls him out of sight of the door window and pushes him against one of the desks

His mouth is on him the next instant. "We gotta practice bein quiet," he bullshits. "What if she decides to tease you in public? You really gonna be able to wait to get home to do somethin about it?"

Zayne sighing. It's such a thin excuse. His heart is racing at the thought of being caught. Not only that: his poor attendance. "Caleb, I can't miss class-"

Caleb kisses the excuse from his mouth. "It's one class. And you know everything about it already. What's the harm?"

"My record-"

Caleb groaning. Pulling back to glare at Zayne while he covers his mouth with his hand. "They love you, they'll forgive it. Now shut up, will ya? Don't wanna get caught in here, right?"

Zayne glaring over his hand, but it disappears just as quick when Caleb's crotch rubs up against his. Hips rocking against him, dicks rubbing against each other through the layers of their pants. Caleb smirking, knowing he's won this time, and pulling his hand away to loosen the tie of Zayne's uniform.

"Keep it down," he reminds him, exposing his collar and sucking on it, kissing at it, tasting the hint of cologne on his neck. "'Kay?"

Pants being haphazardly shoved down to their knees, cocks sliding against each other as Zayne's hand wraps around both. Caleb kissing Zayne senseless, both of them panting and swallowing the moans and gasps of the other.

Zayne suddenly shoving Caleb away and down to his knees, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes as his cock drips precum right in front of his face. "You're so eager - I wonder if you could put your own pleasure aside for her. Keeps your hands behind your back or on me, understood?"

Caleb loving being commanded by Zayne in the same breadth that he hates it - being bossed around by his competition. Teasing him with his tongue and hands, caressing and squeezing his thighs, circling his nipples, going too slow for how little time they have. Zayne grabbing him by the hair and shoving him further on his dick, biting his lip to stay quiet despite the heat surrounding him. Having to bite the bite of his hand when Caleb's bobbing and licking make him cum, filling Caleb's mouth and shooting down his throat.

Caleb shocking Zayne when he pulls off and holds out his tongue to show he swallowed it all. Every time before, they'd spit it out.

Standing and kissing Zayne hard, licking into his mouth so he can taste himself on his tongue. Turning him around and pushing him to bend over the desk. "Was that satisfactory enough for you, sir?" he teases. Zayne involuntarily shivers at the moniker. "I think I waited long enough, didn't I?"

Zayne covering his mouth tightly as Caleb pressing spit-covered fingers into his asshole. Fingering him open, curling up against his prostate just enough to make him forget entirely about missing class and ruining his perfect record.

Caleb whispering a husky reminder in Zayne's ear to stay quiet as he slowly pushes into him. Holding desperately onto his hips, hard enough to bruise, as he eases back out and shoves back in, building up to a pace that has Zayne clinging to the edge of the desk and the slaps of skin echoing in the room.

Marking up Zayne's back and shoulders to keep himself quiet when his cock fills him so perfectly, heat squeezing around him deliciously. Panting by his ear. Whimpering as he starts getting close.

Zayne reaching back to grab a fistful of his hair as he angles his body to kiss Caleb over his shoulder. His thrusts stuttering with a muffled groan as Caleb buries himself to the hilt and cums inside of him - another first.

Cleaning up after with an air of awkwardness because what was that? Playing (some of) it off with comments about rating each other's ability to stay quiet and figuring out how to get out of here without being caught by the hall monitor. Mentions about how MC would have to be pleased with their performances, because, right, yes, this is still a competition for her. Nevermind Zayne taking a cold shower before bed with his forehead pressed to the cold tile, hoping his erection will go down, that he'll stop thinking of Caleb's mouth and how he swallowed his cum. Or Caleb trying to resist rutting against a pillow in a weak attempt to replicate fucking Zayne like that. Completely irrelevant.

THIS WENT ON SO SO MUCH LONGER THAN INTENDED HOLY SHIT

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - In which we all feel the collective meh

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Feb 2025 Week 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

The Boy Next World (Sun IQIYI) ep 8 of 10 - so the premise is such fun! It's like "if the red thread was a multiverse." I guess that makes it a 4th dimensional red tapestry? All the parallel world Cirs interconnected via a shared dream world and trying to manifest their relationships with their respective Phus via interference from the ones who have figured it out. I like it. Makes me wonder if the mastermind Cir lost his Phu and that is why he's so vested in fixing the relationship in all the other timelines. That said this was a relatively boring episode with Cir mostly in the hospital and lots of plot talking. Yet still fun because of this premise. Especially at the back end.

ThamePo (Fri YT) ep 12 of 13 - Nice to see Po being savage to his ex, his first major OGT. Bit of a sadsack of an episode though. Looking forward to next week.

Perfect 10 Liners (Sun YT) ep 18 of 24 - I love these two together so much I can’t stand it. Also the bathroom trope scene was particularly lovely. Great lighting in that bathroom.

Flirt Milk (Sat YT) ep 6 or 10 - This show is not good. The seme is overly aggressive, but I still like the sides. The more time we spend with anyone but the leads, the happier I am. 

Ossan‘s Love Thailand (Mon YouTube) ep 8 of 12 - I don’t even have the energy to get annoyed that they put my beautiful Thor in a terrible wig. This show has already stretched my annoyance to the max, no more fucks to give.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Secret Relationships (Korea iQIYI) ep 1 of 8 - Stars Wei's Kim Jun Seo. Adapted by Cradle Studio (Kakao). This displaying all signs of a classic Kdrama: Office setting, love triangle, lead suffering for his self-actualization. And as a result I absolutely love it. This one was entirely made for me. I love a lead suffering because of his situation. I love that all the boys are interested. I love that there’s lingering crushes and long-standing misunderstandings. Everything about this appeals to me. 

Eternal Butler (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 11 of 12 - Queer robots are the best robots. Also, have I mentioned recently that I love a good butt slap? Very underutilized move in BL. Thank you Taiwan. Wow Kevin’s English is perfect. I mean i expect the best of Taiwan but this is the best. (Inquiring minds want to know if it is all those international competitions he flexed at?) Also perfectly kinky. 

FC Soldout (Korea Thurs iQIYI) ep 7 of 8 - New boy is very sus. But I like him for it. Adore the sides! Must be so novel for an idol to have someone tell him he actually needs to eat. Wild. How gay is this damn football team? 

Fight for Love (Vietnam YT) ep 4 - it’s perfectly serviceable. Which seems to be a lot to ask of Vietnamese BL right now so... yay!?

Impression of Youth (Taiwan Weds Viki) ep 8 of 9 - Well, hello side couple. That was very nice. Thank you Taiwan. Meanwhile, I'm over here idly wondering if Will Wen could be persuaded to pull a hat trick and appear in a Thai BL and a KBL as well as this one - since he apparently speaks most major BL languages fluently.

The stuff dreams are made of.

Heart Stain (Korea Weds IQIYI) eps 7-8 end - this classic love triangle KBL had a classic separation in the final eps, nobody is surprised. But 4 years is a long time to pine. 

Conclusion:

This was a serviceable high school KBL, based on the love triangle standards for which Kdramas inevitably wave the last flag. It was mildly enjoyable if you don’t mind a triangle, certainly earnest, if somewhat forgettable with a lackluster ending. 7/10

Checkered Shirt (Korea YT) ep 4 of 8 - This episode was very rough going. How annoying. But also now realistic. Not that I want realism in my BL.

Exclusive Love (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 4 of 12 - this is all a lot darker than I thought it was going to be from Taiwan. Although it still remains primarily just very weird. Also not enough of the second couple in this episode.

Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 20 end - well it was the final episode last week so here we go! <rant>

Judgement

An interesting premise with two decent couples that failed to commit to the BL side of the equation and thus got mired in a never-ending commentary on bullying. The show could’ve been 8 eps and covered exactly the same material. The entire relationship arc (stepbrothers, my FAVORITE, argh) hinged on lack of communication. And that’s just the beginning of the mire of frustrating flaws. An all round bummer of a show, because the chemistry was decent. This is not a romance and there is no happy ending so don’t expect one. I wasted my damn time and I’m mad about it. Don't make the same mistake. 3/10

It's airing but......

Gelboys (Thai Weds iQIYI) ep 1 of 7 - I’m giving this show a pass. It’s just too far out of my wheelhouse. I don’t have patience right now.

Sashes and Hearts (Pinoy YT) - Philippines is doing Drop Dead Gorgeous only all gay boys queening their asses off. I'm wathing this only if I feel like it.

The Last Time (Thai WeTV) trailer - from 2024, not sure about this one, looks dark. Since it's also difficult for me to get hold of I am giving it a pass until I know about the ending.

A Perfect Match (Taiwan iQIYI) - A not very well regarded Taiwanese sports BL from earlier this year picked up for rerelease. Anyone watched it and like it? Not sure if I should bother.

In Case You Missed it

End of 2024 wraps are here (last chance to read):

2024 Trend Report

MY BEST & WORST BLs of 2024

Best Kisses (and sex scenes) of 2024

BL's 2024 Quirky Awards

2024 Awards - Quick Picks

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming March 2025

3/2 Last Meal Universe (Thailand Sun ????) 10 eps - Trailer. An alien who has come to destroy earth instead falls in love with Thai food and then the Thai boy who cooks it - realistic, actually.

3/12 My Golden Blood (Thailand Weds YouTube) 12 eps - Trailer. GMMTV taking on Weds nights and midweek discourse (they hope) with this hotly anticipated vampire series. I happen to find Joss watchable but this looks very bad and also very Kissable Lips. But at least Thailand is finally giving us the trashy gay vampires we richly deserve? Just realize we don't deserve much.

3/12 Lost in the Woods (Thailand Weds Gaga) 7 eps - Announced for 2023, adapted from a novel of the same name. Fifa just graduated high school and travels to a remote province to take care of his grandma, before starting uni. There he meets Chief Hem, a forest ranger.

3/20 Top Form (Thailand Thurs WeTV) ?? eps - Trailer Adaptation of a Japanese manga. Boom (Chains of Heart) opposite Smart (Don't Say No). Actor recognized as the "The Sexiest Man of the Year" has his first-place position usurped by newcomer. But while he sees them as rivals, turns out the new kid has other ideas. I'm super excited for this but hate watching on WeTv so gonna be a challenge.

3/28 Heesu in Class 2 (Korea Fri ????) 10 eps - Adaption of the comic by Lily, about a shy unpopular boy with a secret crush on best friend who somehow also ends up his school's relationship counselor. Supposed to have completed filming in 2022, the fact this has been in dev hell since then somewhat mitigates this being my most anticipated BL of 2022. I still kinda doubt we are actually getting it but new stills have been released (so something got filmed in the last 3 years).

2025 Line Up

BL Announced for 2025 - PART 1

BL Announced for 2025 - PART 2

20 BLs Announced for 2025 That I'm Really Excited About

GMMTV 2025 Line Up - My Totally Biased and Wildly Flawed Feels

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENT

Got nothing. Another unmemorable week.

(last week)

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

[airandyeah]

Sins (Alpha Geto X Omega Gojo X Omega Reader) Part.20 (Finale)

My Masterlist Series Masterlist Warnings: Obvious A/B/O dynamics, fated mates, suggestive comments or actions, just generally Minors DNI-just in case. This will be similar to Pink Pony Club, where I just mark every chapter as 18+ Last part! Thank you to all of my readers and otherwise supporters, this has been a wild, fun, journey. I hope you'll enjoy the rest of my A/B/O series' and any of my other fics/content. Thank you again, and have a nice day/night.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting the beach in hues of soft gold and warm orange. The sound of waves rolling against the shore mixed with the laughter of your children—your daughters, both just as mischievous as their father, and your son, a perfect mix of Suguru’s calm and your own stubbornness.

They ran through the sand, tiny footprints trailing behind them as they shrieked and giggled, chasing each other with seashells and splashes of water.

Satoru sighed dramatically, flopping back onto the blanket. "You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been this exhausted in my life. Even running a mafia wasn’t this hard."

Suguru snorted, reaching over to ruffle his white hair. "That’s because they’re your daughters. They’re just like you—loud, dramatic, and completely unhinged."

Satoru gasped, hand over his heart. "Excuse me? They have your little evil mastermind streak! I caught them plotting against me yesterday."

You smiled, watching your daughters tug your son along, making him the unwilling participant in whatever grand scheme they were planning. "At least our son is a little more level-headed," you mused.

Suguru hummed, tilting his head. "For now. Give him a few years with those two, and he’ll be just as bad."

Satoru grinned, sitting up to kiss your temple. "At least they’re cute," he murmured.

You leaned into him, eyes soft as you watched the three of them shriek with laughter, chasing each other through the surf.

"They’re perfect," you whispered.

Suguru sighed contentedly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as the three of you sat together, watching the sunset and the little family you had built—one that would always, always be full of love.

Nanami had grumbled for weeks about their decision, sighing heavily as he signed off on paperwork and handled the mess they left behind.

"I should have known you'd dump everything on me," he had muttered, rubbing his temples as Satoru grinned at him from across the table, completely unbothered.

"Come on, Nanamin, you were practically made for this job. You love rules, structure, all that boring stuff."

"That doesn’t mean I wanted to run the entire operation," Nanami shot back, exasperated. "You can’t just leave the mafia like it’s a hobby, Satoru."

Suguru had simply chuckled, patting Nanami’s shoulder. "You’ll be fine. Besides, it’s not like we’re leaving you completely alone—Shoko’s still here oh and Higuruma still stops by, and we trust you more than anyone else."

Nanami sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose before muttering, "That doesn't make me feel better."

But in the end, he let them go.

Because for the first time in their lives, Satoru and Suguru wanted peace—real peace. They wanted quiet mornings and lazy afternoons, wanted to wake up beside you without worrying about blood on their hands.

They wanted to raise their family without the weight of their past looming over them.

And as you sat there now, watching your children play under the sun, listening to the soft laughter of your mates beside you, you knew they had made the right choice. ~~~ Satoru crossed his arms, sighing dramatically. "Alright, which one of you is going to explain why the cat is covered in paint?"

The twins, identical white-haired girls with guilty expressions, exchanged glances before looking at their younger brother.

The little boy, Suguru’s son, simply grinned—mischievous and far too pleased with himself. "It was an experiment."

"An experiment?*" Suguru arched a brow, tilting his head. "Go on."

The twins immediately started shaking their heads, their tiny hands flailing as they tried to protest. "No, no! Don’t listen to him, Papa! He’s lying!"

"Am not!" the boy shot back, puffing out his chest. "I just wanted to see if Moose would look cool with stripes like a tiger."

Satoru pinched the bridge of his nose, trying very hard not to laugh. "So you thought covering the cat in orange and black paint was the best way to do that?"

The boy nodded enthusiastically. "Uh-huh!"

"And you two?" Suguru turned his gaze to the twins, who suddenly seemed very interested in their feet. "Did you help?"

One of them—Satoru’s little copy through and through—huffed. "...Maybe."

The other twin pouted. "But it was his idea!" She pointed aggressively at her brother, who merely smirked.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "You guys do realize Moose is white, right? That’s not coming out easily."

From the corner of the room, Moose—your ever-suffering, patient cat—huffed loudly, looking absolutely done with life as he sat covered in streaks of orange and black.

Satoru finally broke, snickering as he leaned against Suguru. "You gotta admit, he does kinda look cool as a tiger."

"Satoru!"

"What? I’m just saying!"

You knelt beside the tub, sleeves rolled up as you worked a generous amount of dog-safe shampoo into Moose’s paint-streaked fur. The massive, long-suffering cat let out a low, grumbling sigh, clearly displeased with his predicament. You had to use dog shampoo just because it would power through more of the paint than cat shampoo-

"Oh, don’t be so dramatic," you muttered, rubbing at a stubborn patch of orange on his side. "It’s just a little paint. You’ve been through worse."

From beside you, Hime— His black cat girlfriend —sat perched on the edge of the tub, tail flicking as she watched over Moose like a concerned nurse. Every time one of the kids got too close, she let out a small, disapproving mrrp as if scolding them for their crimes.

"See? Even Hime knows you guys messed up," you said, glancing at the guilty trio of children who were each holding their own tiny washcloths.

"Sorry, Moose," one of the twins muttered, gently scrubbing at him.

"You still look kinda cool, though," her sister added under her breath, making her younger brother snicker.

Moose groaned, as if lamenting his fate.

You sighed, shaking your head fondly. "Alright, alright, let’s just get this over with before your fathers get back and start another interrogation."

The kids giggled at that, getting more into the task, their previous mischief momentarily forgotten.

As the warm water ran through Moose’s fur, slowly washing away the evidence of their little experiment, Hime stretched out a paw and delicately tapped his nose—perhaps her way of telling him it would all be over soon.

You smiled softly, watching them all.

Chaos and messes aside, you wouldn’t trade this life for anything. ~~~ Some days, you genuinely couldn’t decide what was worse—the kids or Satoru.

Like today.

"It was a perfectly reasonable idea," Satoru huffed, arms crossed as he sat on the kitchen counter like an oversized child who had just been scolded.

"You tried to teach them how to shoot a gun," you deadpanned, rubbing your temples as you pointed to the three giggling culprits, who had very nearly shot through the damn ceiling. "They’re barely out of their toddler years, Satoru."

"Exactly! Start ‘em young!" He grinned, ruffling one of the twins’ white locks. "How else are they gonna become prodigies?"

"Orphans," you corrected. "The word you’re looking for is orphans."

Suguru sighed from his place at the kitchen table, sipping his tea with the patience of a saint. "You should’ve seen him earlier," he muttered. "Tried to get them to do a ‘cool entrance’ like he does at work."

"And it would have been cool!" Satoru argued, waving his hands. "Until someone—" he shot a look at his son, "—decided to get ‘creative’ and ended up in the pantry instead."

The boy in question looked smug, rocking back and forth on his heels. "I was hungry."

You groaned, running a hand down your face. "I swear, sometimes I don’t know who’s worse—"

"Satoru," Suguru answered without hesitation.

"Hey!"

The kids cackled, clearly in agreement. Even Hime let out a small mrrp of approval from her perch.

You sighed, shaking your head. "I should’ve known this was a lost cause the moment I married you two."

Satoru beamed, pulling you into his arms. "And yet," he purred, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "you wouldn’t change a thing."

You wanted to argue. You really did.

But then you glanced at your family—at the kids giggling, at Suguru’s fond amusement, at Satoru’s unrelenting, ridiculous grin.

Yeah. You wouldn't change it for anything at all. ~~~ Nanami’s wife was a godsend.

There were days when the chaos of three little monsters—your three little monsters—became overwhelming, and just when you thought you’d lose your mind, she’d show up at your doorstep with that gentle smile and an offer that had you nearly in tears.

"I’ll take them for the day," she’d say, already bending down to scoop up one of the twins. "You three need some time to yourselves."

You didn’t argue. You couldn’t.

She was amazing with children, the kind of person who could calm even the most restless pup with a few soft words and a warm hug. And the kids adored her, always clamoring to spend time at “Auntie’s” house, where they were spoiled beyond belief. Even Nanami, as exasperated as he pretended to be, secretly enjoyed having them around.

So on those days, you, Suguru, and Satoru finally got to breathe.

To just be mates again, instead of parents.

Some days, it meant slow mornings in bed, tangled in sheets and warm limbs, making up for all the nights you had been woken by tiny voices calling for you. Other times, it meant sneaking away to a private dinner, hands clasped under the table, whispered confessions of love like you were still newly mated.

And sometimes—especially when Satoru was feeling particularly smug—it meant indulging in activities that reminded you just how you ended up with three pups in the first place.

No matter how you spent the time, by the end of the day, when you picked up your children—now full of stories and sleepy smiles—you were always grateful.

Grateful for Nanami’s wife.

Grateful for the love that surrounded you. On the rare days you had to yourselves, the three of you barely made it out of bed.

It always started the same way—waking up in a warm tangle of limbs, the weight of Suguru’s arm draped over your waist, Satoru’s face nuzzled into your neck. For once, there were no little feet kicking at your ribs, no tiny voices calling for breakfast, no urgent need to leave the safety of your nest.

And none of you were in any hurry to change that.

Satoru was the worst—shameless in his clinginess, wrapping himself around you like a second skin, murmuring about how you belonged here, right here, forever and ever. Suguru wasn’t much better, though he pretended to be—always the calm one, always composed—until you shifted just right and the deep rumble of his growl betrayed his restraint.

You weren’t any different.

It had been too long since the three of you had time to just be, without work, without pups, without the exhaustion of everyday life pulling you away from each other.

So, you took your time.

Soft kisses turned desperate, lingering touches became possessive, whispered words of love melted into needy pleas. They worshipped you—like they always did—Satoru all teasing smirks and breathy laughter, Suguru’s hands firm and steady, grounding you between them.

Hours passed—maybe more. You weren’t sure. Time had no meaning when you were here, wrapped up in them, drowning in their love.

By the time you finally surfaced from the haze, exhaustion pulling at your limbs, you knew the rest of the day would be spent much the same way. ~~~ It was a quiet afternoon when your oldest twin came home, all giggles and excitement, practically bouncing as she kicked off her shoes. You barely glanced up from the kitchen, distracted with dinner prep, but the moment the words left her mouth, the atmosphere in the apartment shifted.

"Mama! Guess what? I have a boyfriend!"

Silence.

A slow, creeping dread settled over you as you turned to look at your mates.

Suguru, who had been reading on the couch, had frozen mid-page, his grip tightening until the paper crinkled under his fingers. His eyes lifted, dark and unreadable, as he processed the words.

Satoru? Oh, Satoru lost it.

"A what?!" The chair he had been lounging in scraped harshly against the floor as he sprang up, dramatically clutching his chest as if he had been stabbed. "You’re six! What do you mean, you have a boyfriend?! Who is this little punk?! What’s his last name? His address?"

Your daughter blinked up at him, entirely unbothered. "I’m eight, Daddy. And his name is Haru! He’s really nice! He—"

"That’s it. We’re moving." Satoru spun on his heel, already reaching for his phone. "Suguru, pack the bags. We need to take our baby somewhere where boys don’t exist."

Suguru finally moved, standing up at his full height, the deep rumble of a very displeased Alpha filling the room. "What does this Haru look like?"

Your daughter, oblivious to her impending doom, just shrugged. "He has brown hair! And he gave me a juice box today! So now we’re dating!"

Satoru made a wounded noise. "Is that all it takes?! I’ve given you way more juice boxes than some random kid—do you know how many sweets I’ve snuck you behind your mama’s back?! Where’s my love?!"

"You’re already married to Mommy and Papa," she reasoned, rolling her eyes. "You don’t need a boyfriend."

Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply through his nostrils like he was trying very, very hard to keep his composure. "We need to meet him."

"No, we don’t," you interjected, stepping in before things spiraled. "She’s eight. This is just a childhood crush, and you two are not going to scare some poor boy away just because he shared his juice box."

But neither of them looked convinced.

Satoru crossed his arms, scowling. "I want a background check."

"Satoru."

"Just a little one! Just a peek at his family records!"

Suguru nodded in agreement. "If he’s going to be around our daughter, we should at least know who he is."

"You’re both insane."

"We’re protective," Satoru corrected. "There’s a difference."

Your daughter huffed. "You guys are overreacting. Haru is really nice! He said my hair clip was pretty today!*"

Suguru growled.

Satoru snapped his fingers. "That’s it. We’re sending her to an all-girls school."

"We are not sending her to an all-girls school," you sighed, rubbing your temples.

Your daughter, meanwhile, seemed unbothered, skipping toward her room as if she hadn’t just shattered her fathers’ worlds. "I’m gonna call Haru! He said we can play games together!"

As she disappeared down the hall, Suguru sat back down with a heavy sigh, while Satoru slumped dramatically against you. "Baby, this is horrible. We weren’t ready for this."

You rolled your eyes, but you let him bury his face in your neck, his distress comical. "She’s a child, Satoru."

"Yeah, well, she’s our child," he muttered. "And no little brat is stealing her from us."

Suguru was already on his phone, searching. "Haru, huh? Let’s see what we’re working with."

"You two are not stalking a child."

They didn’t answer.

And suddenly, you knew—this was only the beginning. ~~~ It was as if one wasn’t bad enough.

One by one, all three of your children came home with news that had their fathers on the verge of absolute meltdown.

First, it was your eldest twin with Haru. Then, not to be outdone, her sister declared that she had a boyfriend now too—some boy named Daichi, who apparently shared his pudding with her at lunch. Pudding. That was all it took. Satoru nearly combusted on the spot.

And then, just when you thought things couldn’t get worse, your son, your baby boy, came home and casually mentioned that he had a girlfriend.

A girlfriend.

Satoru nearly flipped the dinner table. Suguru looked like he had been personally betrayed.

Your mate’s fork clattered onto his plate as he turned to your son with an expression so deeply unamused it could have frozen hell over. "What did you just say?"

Your son, the traitor, just kept munching on his rice like he didn’t just deliver the final blow. "I said, I have a girlfriend. Her name is Hina. She told me I was handsome, so we’re dating now."

Satoru made a choked noise. "That’s not how it works!"

"You two got together because Papa called you pretty," your son reasoned, utterly unfazed. "So I don’t see the difference."

Suguru visibly winced, while Satoru looked personally offended. "That’s completely different!"

"How?"

"Because I was an adult! You’re six—you don’t even know what a girlfriend is!"

Your son, deadpan, sipped his juice. "I do. It means she likes me the most."

"She likes you the most?!" Suguru finally spoke, his voice dangerously calm. "Who is this Hina? What’s her last name? Where do her parents work?"

"Oh my god," you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Not again."

Satoru, meanwhile, was on the verge of hysteria. "That’s it! The girls were bad enough, but now even our son is getting stolen?! This is an attack! This is a conspiracy! They’re trying to take all our babies from us!"

"It’s not that serious," you sighed.

"It’s worse," Satoru whined, grabbing you dramatically. "Our babies are growing up! It’s all downhill from here! Next, they’ll be sneaking out, then getting married, then—"

"Married?!" Suguru snapped, hands slamming on the table. "Over my dead body!"

Your son blinked at his fathers, then turned to you. "Are they okay?"

"No," you answered bluntly. "No, they are not."

Satoru groaned. "We should have had more kids. Just a few more. Then we’d still have some left when these ones abandon us."

"They are six and eight years old," you stressed. "No one is abandoning anyone."

"Yet," Satoru muttered darkly. "Yet."

Suguru exhaled slowly through his nose, clearly trying to collect himself, before he leveled his son with a look. "Listen to me, sweetheart. No dating until you’re at least thirty."

Your son frowned. "But Papa—"

"Thirty," Satoru repeated firmly. "Maybe thirty-five, if we’re feeling generous."

"That’s not fair," the boy pouted. "Hina says we’re going to get married one day, too."

Suguru let out a slow, dangerous hum. "Married?"

Your son nodded happily. "Yeah! She said I’m her soulmate, so we have to!"

Satoru collapsed.

Suguru stood up, rolling his sleeves like he was about to personally interrogate a six-year-old. "I need to have a word with her."

"You are not hunting down a child," you said, grabbing his arm before he could storm off.

"I just want to talk to her," Suguru lied.

Your son, bless his soul, just kept eating like he wasn’t fueling his fathers’ descent into madness.

Meanwhile, in the other room, the twins were playing with their dolls, completely ignoring the chaos they had created.

Satoru, face buried in his hands, let out a wounded sigh. "I’m too pretty to be this stressed."

"Oh, shut up," you muttered.

Taglist is always open for anyone! Just comment, send an ask, or a DM and I'll add you! Taglist: @purpleicing , mini-kunoichi , @gravity-valley , @jinjen , @c0quin , @makingtimemine , @asweetblueberry2 , @vyxte I think that's everyone who asked to be tagged, I apologize if I missed anyone!!! Perma-tags: @thenightperson

[stardustedseas]

anyways

jayce x dog hybrid reader

nsfw +18

cw: human x hybrid, dub con (reader is in heat and doesn't fully understand what's going on, jayce is hesitate to engage because he knows this but they do both want eachother), implied 3some at the end, barely edited- i mostly just copy pasted my rambled from my dms to here

viktor giving jayce a key to his apt so he can feed and walk you when vik cant, youre a little unsure about this new big man coming into your home but viktor likes him, he always brings treats and his big warm hands always give the best belly rubs too so he must be okay :) viktor ends up spending more and more time at the lab working on a big breakthrough in hextech and hasnt been able to get home to you as often but doesn't want you at the lab much because it can be very dangerous, so hes been sending jayce to take care of you more since its easier for him to run over and back rq

(rubbing hands together like an evil fly) while you do miss your owner and you dont fully understand why he cant come home as much right now, you enjoy when jayce visits, hes so kind and fun! he isnt as afraid to rough house play with you he and always indulges you with treat, over all, things have been pretty okay. that is untill you start to feel weird and pent up, all of your clothes feel bad agaisnt your skin and you cant stand to have them on, taking to just wander around naked. you also feel more emotional and the hours of viktor being away turn from sucky but tollerable to you sobbing every morning when he leaves and almost tearing the apt up in a panic if he doest come home at night. you also dont know why but your tummy always feels weird and like your skin is on fire too.

still, you dont want to tell your owner, he always seems so stressed and tired :( you dont want him to get more stressed because of you :( so you do your best to act normal when hes home or jayce is there. this works for about a week before either of them notice too. it's when jayce comes over to give you lunch and your afternoon walk that he can tell something is wrong, usually you come bounding up to the door all excited and whine until he gives you belly rubs and a new treat he brings for you to try but now you're no where to be seen. you dont even come when he calls for you, he ofc gets worried and goes looking, it really isnt like you to not listen or greet him. he finds you all bundled up on viktor bed, wrapped in his blanket with what looks like his entire closet surrounding you. he can't really tell whats going on but he can hear you whimpering and see a lump under the covers wriggling around.

he calls out to you again but you just freeze, when he tries to pull the blanket back you just pull it tighter around yourself and whine for him to go away. something is very obviously wrong so he sits on the edge of the bed and lightly pets you over the covers, he gets even more worried at the strangled, almost hurt sound you let out so he decides that if youre injured, he cant just wait until you come out on your own, so he froces the blanket off you. instead of a bunch of blood like he was worried hed find, its you butt naked, curled around a pillow with your arms clinging to one end and the other squished between your thighs. he would have laughed at how your hair and fur was sticking up all over the place but the tears on your cheeks and the amount of sweat covering your shakey body were far more concerning.

before he can ask you whats wrong or even really process what hes seeing, you are jumping up to crawl into his lap and cling to him instead, sobbing about how you feel so weird and hot and your privates ache so bad and you miss viktor so much. you had started to unconsciously grind against the leg you were stradling, soaking his probably very expensive pants, but had just cried harder when he gently pried you off, so he agreed to give you your beloved belly rubs if you agreed to lay back down. he was struggling to think straight with the way you were desperately humping him and crying into his neck but this didnt help at all, seeing you layed out bare and needy infront of him, moaning so obscenely just from him petting your soft belly, really backfired on him lmfao its even worse when you start bucking your hips up and wiggling around (he can more clearly see the wet sheen of slick coating your mound and inside of your thighs) and try to push his hand lower, telling him it hurts and you want him to pet you down there.

you just know that those big strong hands could make you feel better :( it feels so good when he pets your head or tummy, the rough callouses contrasting how gently he touches you. jayce is a very strong willed man who does not give in easily, his morals always holding fast, but he is also n o t immune to the way your cute fluffy ears lay flat and you look up at him with the biggest, most pathetic puppy dog eyes hes ever seen in his life while begging for him to please not go, please dont leave you alone and in pain. god he really should go call viktor, tell him whats going on and absolutely not give in to your pleading- youre in heat for fucks sake and desperate and not thinking clearly and youre not even his dog hes just helping out his bestie and- whatever resolve he had went out the window when you were able to yank his hand down between your thighs and sloppily push it against you, desperately moving his hand as if trying to make him pet you.

he cant help but give in, he swears he will just get you off once then call viktor, just so you arent in as much pain. hes supposed to be taking care of you after all, what kind of friend would he be if he left you to suffer... unfortunately for his conscious, that does not work out because the second he sinks one of his thick fingers into your poor puppy cunt and sees(and Feels) the way you almost instantly cum with the prettiest moan of his name, he had absolutely no chance of being able to leave now. not when hes felt how tight and warm and wet you are. god he bets you taste as good as you look too,,,,

anyways like i said im bad at the actual smut part but he ends up fingering and eating you out a couple times before he is once again worn down even more by the way you roll onto your stomach and arch your hips up, burring your nose into one of viktors dirty shirts. youre not fully sure what youre begging for but all you know is hes making you feel so so good and being in this position just feels right, like this is all you were made for. by this point poor jayce is so turned on he couldn't possibly have left now so he once again gives in and kneels behind you, leaning over so his broad chest is layed across your back, pressing your almost limp body down more into the matress while he reaches around for your still throbbing pussy. he swears he was just gonna get you off on his fingers one more time in a position that felt more natural for you, THEN he was gonna call viktor,,,,,, but its not even five minutes later before he is carefully pushing the fat tip of his cock in, trying not to hurt you. he may not be able to knot or breed you like you need, but hopefully his cum filling you up can help :3

viktor gets worried after jayce is gone longer than usual and ends up going home as well, hes already further ahead in his experiment than expected so he can take an early break, he has been away from his beloved pet an awful lot and he misses you so much :( the last thing he was expecting to see when he got back was jayce fucking his puppy into his bed surrounded by all his clothes lmfao cough not that hes too upset tho, just disappointed he missed out on half the fun before showing up. its okay tho, you are far from satiated and as amazing as jayce feels, you still miss your masters cock :3

~~~~~~~~~~~~☆

im so sorry