#i will in fact be adding more to this but this is all i got rn dw ill be back w more whether its tmrw or next month thats up to god

[grimmweepers]

— ★ 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: when being assigned a joint research project with a very attractive haravatat student proves to be more distracting than you ever anticipated

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: akademiya!student alhaitham x akademiya!student reader, afab!reader, established relationship (early stages), secret relationship, sex in the desert, flirting, playful banter, casual nudity, no preparation, rough fucking, multiple positions, creampie, not proofread. obv they are adults. 2.1k wc MDNI. 18+ ONLY. | masterlist

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The heat had already taken hold of you this morning.

Even before you opened your eyes, the desert sun had crept into the makeshift tent, meandered across your skin, and clung to the bedding beneath you. Outside, you could hear the wind humming in a lulling rhythm but the air inside was still heavy—scented faintly of canvas, sand, and Alhaitham.

Officially, this trip was sanctioned by the Akademiya to catalog ruins and decipher inscriptions long buried in the dunes. Your joint project culminated in months of preparation but between your academic pursuits, you and Alhaitham fell into the trap of proximity, lured by the temptation of wandering eyes and coy smiles exchanged over the rim of coffee cups. 

Long nights spent under oil lamps became less about studying and more about the rush it gave you when your knees brushed beneath low tables. It was nearly impossible to concentrate on reading when Alhaitham sat so close that his scent clouded you entirely. 

Wandering eyes turned to coy smiles turned to lingering touches turned to… well. 

Such distractions would be frowned upon by the Akademiya, yes, but how could you resist when Alhaitham treated you like you were the most fascinating discovery he had ever encountered? You both agreed on discretion to save yourself from the mortification of other scholars and seniors. They didn’t need to know about his sweet confession and the many other things you both got up to when nothing but the stars could witness you. 

So unofficially—this trip was the perfect excuse to stay tangled together despite the sweltering heat. 

You blinked against the wedge of sunlight, rolling over to a very bare Alhaitham sprawled beside you, one arm tucked lazily behind his head, the other resting just centimetres from your waist. 

“Morning,” his voice was thick with sleep but when your eyes met, you saw that his expression was immensely not.

“What’s got you so focused?” you said groggily, propping yourself on your elbow as you faced him. “Already thinking about all the hard work waiting for us today?”

Your clothes were still discarded from the night before, sitting in a crumpled heap near the corner of your bedroll. Perhaps the events of last night were why he was looking at you with that slanted smile. 

“Do you always think about work the moment you open your eyes?” he replied, tracing small circles on you. 

“Someone has to keep us on task,” you shot back, raising a brow.

“I didn’t realise I was sharing a tent with a Matra.”

Of the 20 languages he knew, the same mouth rendered him incapable of completing this project in a timely manner—what should have been done two days ago was instead spent with his tongue on your skin. 

Not that you had many complaints.

“Mm,” he added. “And here I thought mornings were for recharging, not nagging.” 

“For someone who implores efficiency in all things,” you said, poking his nose, “You spend a suspicious amount of time lying around. Observing me isn’t going to help your thesis.”

“Observing you is a worthwhile distraction actually,” his hand began to slip onto the bare curve of your hip, “In fact, I think you’re my most compelling subject.”

“I would pay you sacks of mora to include that in your report,” you retorted, clicking your tongue with false annoyance, but you were too focused on something else to actually care.

“I’ll pass,” he tipped his chin at you, “Instead of mora, another thorough exploration should suffice.”

“You’re avoiding work.”

“I prefer to think of it as redefining priorities.”

“Oh? And what’s at the top of that list now, Mr. Alhaitham?” You felt wrapped in warmth but you weren’t sure if it was from the desert or his fingers settling between your thighs.

“Must you know?” He pressed his body against you, “It seems to me you don’t think we can afford to delay.”

Suddenly, the tent felt smaller, and something familiar coiled low in your belly. You let out a soft sigh, shifting closer to him, “Enough.” 

The word felt hollow, even to your own ears.

He not only decided he wanted a repeat of last night (and the night before) but also the right to brag about passing with flying colours even when he was buried inside you during the most crucial part of the research. 

It became a cycle—he apologised for keeping you distracted and you forgave him by moaning his name. 

Never one to be so sexually inclined but now he understood why men sculpted monuments to their obsessions, why poets spilled ink in worship of carnal desires. Lust was not a sin because it was tempted, but because it was consumed. However, the way Alhaitham consumed you was completely intentional. 

You were no different from his books. He spread you open, studied you, and read every inch of you all the same.  

“I personally think we have plenty of time,” he leaned forward, slowly grazing his lips across your neck before kissing your pulse point. “Trust me.”

And trust him you did.

The world outside was quickly forgotten after he turned you on your back. Your words died in your throat as he hovered above you, capturing you in a careful kiss that tasted of salt and skin. 

There was plenty of time in the way his fingers coveted pleasure out of you. 

There was plenty of time in the way he mapped your jaw, your neck, and your collarbone with love bites. Like you were something so desirable to him.

Beads of sweat rolled down your temple as the tip of his cock shallowly pressed your entrance. Your mouth fell open—the friction was maddening, and every inch of you clung to him. Even when his lips ghosted the swell of your chest, he was lucky your skin was there to swallow his quiet grunts each time his hips moved against your tight hole. 

“Patience,” he said when you instinctively arched your back, though his own breathing was uneven. Already, his hair was tousled and damp from the heat of your bodies mingling and you felt his length throbbing on your thigh. He was so hard, you couldn’t help but wonder if the one who actually needed patience was him. 

You couldn’t hold back a giggle. “Speak for yourself,” you said, swiveling your hip upwards. A groan left his lips so quickly you saw a blush spread across his cheeks. “You’re barely holding it together.”

He grumbled in response. “You find joy in others’ misery.”

“Not at all.”

Although, your teasing wasn’t for naught. Alhaitham wasn’t exactly famous for bedding women so seeing you stripped of everything that made you prim and proper left him craving you that much more. “You should take it as a compliment that I—”

“So I’m the problem?” you laughed under him to mask the flutter in your stomach. 

“Precisely.” You were glad he remained obstinate even when he so lewdly towered over you. “You’re in such a hurry this morning. If you want to be reckless, I won’t be blamed for the consequences.”

Then a strategic purse of lips followed suit, “I thought you enjoyed my patience.”

Patience. That damned word again.

Screw patience. Whatever consequence he was referring to was burning away any semblance of patience you might have had left. Thus far, he had taken his time with you but he had only taken his time with you. If he could be more crude, you wanted to see it—feel it. 

“Alhaitham,” his entire name rolled off your tongue. Quick and demanding. Your tone only fueled the fire in his seafoam eyes. “Stop talking.”

The end of your words dissolved into a gasp as he thrust into you, hard and sudden, stretching you with a fervor you hadn’t felt before. 

His muscles flexed while you dragged your nails down his spine, closing your legs around him for even an ounce of stability. The rhythm he set was already so relentless that his hands gripped your thighs, pulling them higher around his waist to drive himself deeper, and the change in angle made all sound catch in your throat.

“Haitham—!” a cry rippled from how hips were snapping against yours with a pace that was anything but patient. He had accepted your unspoken challenge so quickly, that nothing would have prepared you. 

Your head swam.

The wet, sloppy slaps of skin meeting skin filled the tent, blending in with your jagged moans and his lower grunts. No part of his brain wasn’t thinking about how soaked you already were, how you welcomed him so easily before he slipped—no—pushed it in. 

His hair clung to his forehead, every movement felt tight and addictive. When he leaned down, his lips brushed the shell of your ear, “Is this fast enough for you?”

You could only whimper in response, feeling your toes curl as his hoarse voice and your own pleasure consumed you. 

He shifted, pulling you onto your side and hooking your leg over his shoulder. The new position sent another shockwave through you, and your priceless whines filled the small space as he drove into you over and over again.

The heat of the tent seemed endless, but so did the hunger between you. Alhaitham’s pace never truly slowed—each time your whines softened, each time you thought the storm of his touch subsided, he just tossed you into a new position, kindling the fire all over again. 

“I want to hear you,” he growled while his chest was flushed against your back. Reaching to lift your leg so his heavy cock could invade you deeper, you tried to muffle your moans into the bedding. But he grabbed your chin, tilting you to look at him, “Head up.” He half-chuckled, “You were so mouthy before. What happened to that?” 

Before you could answer—or think—he shifted again, this time unsteadily pulling you onto his lap. Your knees dug into the bedding but at that point, holding yourself upright proved difficult. His hands gripped your waist, guiding you to ride him as his mouth leisurely latched onto the peak of your breast. The combination left you shuddering, clinging to his shoulders as his fingers pressed bruises into your hips. 

“Did you know,” he slurred against your skin, “that you’re terrible and incredible?” His praise made your cheeks burn but terrible? Terrible was the way he fucking you so hard you could barely roll your hips. 

“Y-You might want to refresh yourself,” you chewed your bottom lip from yet another hard thrust, “On the meaning of ‘terrible.’” You could feel the remnants of your previous orgasms dripping down on him, “Because that’s you.”

Time blurred. You lost count of the positions, of the way he had you on all fours only to have you back in his arms moments later, of how many times you greedily begged for more. Every touch was electric; if only you could clutch him closer. The noises were shameless and the scent of filthy sex and sweat was nothing shy of erotic. 

When he pinned you beneath him again, you felt him stiffen. Every inch that sunk into you felt more desperate and even the way he called your name sounded huskier. You could have sworn the tent walls were ruffling in sync from his losing control. 

Your lips parted in a silent scream and with a final throb around his cock and a deep drawn-out groan in your ear, he released inside you for the first time. Your body drew out his pleasure as his forehead pressed against your shoulder. His laboured breathing told you everything about the ecstasy he was experiencing, like his body and brain were struggling to stay connected. Finally, he pulled out, trembling and sensitive, and collapsed beside you who was still panting. 

Ultimately you got what you wanted: unfiltered crude sex with your insufferably hot research partner. Your pulse ran wild.

A hazy silence settled, broken only by his stroking your hand to check if you were okay. Part of him wondered if he went a bit too far which you wordlessly answered by rubbing him back. He held you, and like last night (and the night before), you lay glistening and tangled together in the aftermath. 

It was a perfect system, a hopeless, delirious cycle.

“Well,” he said as he returned to tracing circles on you, “I think that concludes this morning’s exploration.”

You rolled your eyes, still dizzy and breathless, “Do you think the Akademiya will accept that as your final thesis?”

His lips quirked into a rare, little grin. “Hard to say. Who knows which of the sages might secretly be perverts?” 

“Alhaitham,” you groaned, swatting weakly at his chest. 

But then his arms tightened around you. And you didn’t mind. You didn’t protest. You believed you might have even loved being clad in nothing, lying in a cramped, too-warm tent that reeked in the musk of what transpired.

There was, as he said, plenty of time to finish the project. And if this was part of the process, you weren’t in any hurry.

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

a/n: idk if i love or hate this but it’s so hot where i am rn and the only thing i can do to distract myself from perishing from the heat is to pretend i’m here!!!

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[emchante]

softcore siren | m. verstappen

warnings: 18+/ suggestive — minors dni.

softcore porn streamer max has been in my mind all day for some reason, so i wanted to get this little thing out for me + @thef1diary seeing as she was so onboard with it too. definitely want to delve into this more!! drop into my inbox and hit me with your thoughts on this! <3

softcore porn streamer! max verstappen is a man you accidentally stumble across one day when scrolling through the ‘just chatting’ category. the thumbnail for the stream is a still image of max in a shirt that fits his chest snuggly, strong arms bulging slightly as he has his arms crossed at his front.

he’s an attractive man— you can’t deny that— so you decide fuck it, and click onto the stream.

as soon as the stream and chat loads, you’re hit with a mix of of thirsting messages in the side bar, and max’s low, accented voice as he spoke to everyone. he isn’t talking about anything specific, just chatting away and answering any questions he can see in the flurry of horny messages.

suddenly he lets out a warm laugh, and it’s unexpectedly charming. “alright, alright,” he rolls his eyes playfully, “i see your messages. i see what you’re here for, calm down. we’ll get to it,” he winks, leaning right to the camera momentarily as he shifts himself upwards to sit in a more comfortable position. the eye contact through the screen causes a breath to catch in your throat.

as max sits back he stretches right up, allowing his shirt to ride up and give the viewers a sliver of stomach. you couldn’t deny your eyes scanned the area the full time it was on screen, silently begging it to go even further. then, max moved his hands behind his head, allowing his arms to flex with his muscles bulging through the-short sleeved shirt. his softer chest area became more defined as the shirt tugged against it, until he allowed his arms to fall to his side.

he topped it all off with what could only be described as a soft moan, his eyes fluttered shut and his freckled lip curving into a smile.

your eyes drifted to his chat once more, watching the flood of messages be sent in as max teased his body, adding a moan at the end of his little show. some people were begging him to flex his arms again, for him to go shirtless, whereas others took a more meme-like approach. ‘do you need a bra for them?’, for example.

you wanted to join in on the fun, so you did. you didn’t say anything extreme, more-so joining the thirsty comments but keeping your own tame. a simple ‘god, you’re so fine?’, allowing it to get buried within the pile.

but it didn’t.

your eyes widened as your chat was highlighted with ‘first time chatter’, and fuck— since when was that a thing?

max seems to catch sight, raising a brow as he catches your comment and the fact you’re new. “oh? we have a new chatter, guys. welcome in,” he smiles, looking to the camera and winking. “appreciate the compliment.”

your breath caught in your throat at him reacting to your message and greeting you, that you didn’t even catch the amount of welcomes you got from his regulars. there were even a few ‘she’s so lucky??’ from others.

max grins before leaning back in his chair, his crossed arms resting over his front again. this time though he was pushed back a little more, allowing him to lift his foot onto his chair as he perched into a position where his thighs were in shot. and shit— you were not expecting that.

his grin only widened as the chat had another outburst about him, commenting about his thighs and what they wanted to do to them. though he was reading them, he had ignored them and went back to what the previous topic. “aww, no other message from newbie?” he fake pouted, before peering right into the camera lens once more. “don’t worry though, everyone starts out shy, confused. you’ll figure out soon enough why you’re here.”

and the thing is— he’s right. you do find out why you’re here.

you stay on the stream much longer than you had intended to, watxhing as he balances humour, flirtation, and just the right amount of teasing and mischief. you realise his fans aren’t just obsessed with his looks— they’re drawn to the way he makes everyone feel seen, chats to them like he would any other person.

by the end of the stream, you’re still not entirely sure how you got sucked into max verstappen— the softcore porn streamer on twitch’s front page. but as you close the tab for the night, your cheeks are hot and there’s a lingering smile on your face.

one things for certain: this wouldn’t be the last time.

⋆˙⟡ enjoy this? i hope you did! please come chat to me about it in my ask box! publicly or on anon— i’ll answer everything <3

[yeonsols-garden]

I've honestly been so busy lately, but I have a head cannon that Haesol is bisexual. Like you're telling me she has cute ass girls confessing to her 24/7 and the one guy whose confession she accepts is crossdressing as a girl when she accepts his confession????

Not only that but the fact that when you notice all of their major milestones happen when Yeonwoo is cross-dressing or appears more feminine than usual... Like come on!!!

That girl likes women too. And the fact that she chose a beautiful man as her boyfriend?

A man who can pass off as a girl and actually look better than 95% of the female population?? Hello?!

Ya she's bi. She can say "I don't like girls" all she wants but even me the avid asexual can see where things just aren't adding up. I like to think she's demi bisexual because there is still that aspect of her needing to know well for her to actually like them.

(let's not forget that when she first saw Yeonwoo she immediately got loved bombed while thinking he was a she!)

Like I will seriously never get over that like ever.

Will never know peace until I find another relationship like this

[daisymbin]

Hi!!

Can you please write a drabble for jeonghan using the fluff prompts #23 and #39?

hi love!! I'm sorry again, my mistake 😓 if I had checked my ask earlier that I could ask which prompt so you don't have to wait so long 😢 hopefully this slightly longer fic makes up for it!!!! thank you for waiting 😽🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // hannie's m.list

fluff prompt #23: "you stayed up all night taking care of me?" +

fluff prompt #39: "you talk about me in your sleep, you know?"

jeonghan woke up to the soft hum of sunlight filtering through his blinds and the faint rustle of movement nearby. his head throbbed, his mouth felt like cotton, and the events of the previous night were a blur. blinking against the bright light, he groaned and shifted slightly, immediately regretting the motion as nausea crept in.

“you’re awake,” a familiar voice said, cutting through the fog in his brain.

he turned his head toward you, sitting in his desk chair with your arms crossed, looking both relieved and annoyed. your hair was slightly disheveled, and your tired eyes met his.

“morning,” he croaked, his voice hoarse. “what happened?”

you raised a brow, clearly unimpressed. “you got drunk. like, really drunk. i had to bring you home because you kept whining that you felt sick.”

he winced, his memory offering little more than flashes of the night. “oh.”

you stood up, walking over to his bedside with a glass of water and some painkillers. “and then you wouldn’t stop complaining, so i stayed up to make sure you didn’t choke on your own stupidity.”

“you stayed up all night taking care of me?” he asked, his voice quieter now, laced with something he wasn’t sure he wanted to unpack.

“someone had to,” you replied, handing him the glass. your tone was matter-of-fact, but the way your eyes lingered on him, soft and full of concern, made his chest feel strange.

he sipped the water, trying to ignore the way his stomach flipped. “did i… do anything embarrassing?”

you leaned back against the wall, crossing your arms with a smirk. “oh, plenty. but my favorite part was when you started talking in your sleep.”

jeonghan froze, his hand hovering mid-air. “what?”

you raised an eyebrow. “yeah, you talk about me in your sleep, you know?”

his heart skipped a beat. “what did i say?”

your smirk widened. “you don’t remember?”

“obviously not!” he shot back, feeling his face heat up.

you tilted your head, pretending to think. “hmm… let’s see. you said my name a lot, for one. i lost count after the fifth time.”

his stomach flipped. “just your name?”

you leaned forward, your grin turning teasing. “oh, no. you said other things, too.”

jeonghan groaned, covering his face with his hands. “what kind of things?"

last night

you had just managed to guide jeonghan into his bed, his arm slung heavily over your shoulders as he half-stumbled, half-leaned on you. “come on, jeonghan. you’re almost there,” you huffed, trying to keep him upright.

“you’re so strong,” he mumbled, his words slurring. “like… really strong. you could probably carry me, huh?”

“i’m already carrying most of your weight,” you muttered under your breath, ignoring the way his words made your cheeks warm.

as soon as his head hit the pillow, jeonghan let out a long sigh. you thought he’d drift off immediately, but instead, he mumbled, “you’re so nice to me. always so nice.”

you froze, hovering by the edge of his bed.

“you smell nice, too,” he added, his voice muffled by the pillow. “like… flowers or something. but not too strong. it’s just… perfect.”

your heart skipped a beat, and you slowly lowered yourself into the desk chair, unsure if he was fully asleep or just delirious.

“wish i could tell you,” he mumbled, his voice so soft you almost missed it. “wish i could say how much i…” he trailed off, his breathing evening out as he falls asleep.

you thought he was done for the night, but then, an hour later, he added, “want to take you out sometime. somewhere nice. you deserve that. wanna take angel out on date.”

angel? but that's his nickname for you...

your heart raced and ached at the vulnerability in his voice. you sat there in silence, watching his peaceful face, the weight of his words settling over you.

“you’re too good for me,” he whispered, the words barely audible. “but i’m selfish. i want you to be mine.”

[-]

“so,” jeonghan said now, dragging you back to the present, “what exactly did i say?”

you shrugged, playing it cool despite the way your heart raced. “oh, just that you think i’m nice and smell like flowers.”

he blinked, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to process your words. “i said that?”

“mmhm,” you hummed, biting back a grin.

“and…?” he prompted, clearly fishing for more.

“and you said you want to take me out sometime,” you added, your voice casual but your cheeks warm. "on a date." you added softly.

jeonghan stared at you, his expression unreadable. then, slowly, a smirk tugged at his lips. “sounds like me.”

you rolled your eyes, pretending to be annoyed, but your heart betrayed you, hammering in your chest.

he shifted closer, resting his chin on his palm, his grin playful but his voice quieter. “so, how about it? i’m free this weekend. dinner, your pick. i owe you for, you know, saving my life or whatever.”

“is this how you ask someone out?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“well, it’s not every day i find out i confessed in my sleep,” he countered, a nervous laugh slipping through. “but… you’d say yes, right?”

you faltered, his unusually earnest tone catching you off guard. “you’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze.

jeonghan’s laugh was immediate, light and relieved. “i’ll take that as a yes.”

“don’t make me regret it,” you warned, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your words.

“trust me, you won’t,” he said, his confidence returning. “and for the record, i’d totally carry you to bed if the roles were reversed. just saying.”

he grinned, leaning back against the pillows with a smug expression. if his heart was racing, well, that was for him to deal with later.

“jeonghan!”

his signature smirk firmly in place. "what’s wrong? cat got your tongue, or are you just mesmerized by me again?" he teased, his voice low and honeyed as he moved closer. the confidence he exuded was disarming, but you caught the flicker of something softer in his eyes — a nervousness he couldn’t quite hide.

you rolled your eyes, though your pulse quickened as he closed the distance. "you wish," you muttered, but your breath hitched when his hand brushed against your cheek, his fingers ghosting over your skin.

“oh, i know,” jeonghan said, his grin widening. yet, as he cupped your face more firmly, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth, his playful facade cracked. his throat bobbed in a swallow, and you noticed the way his eyes darted between your lips and your gaze, like he was trying to decide if he was allowed to take this leap.

“you’re awfully quiet now,” he murmured, though his voice lacked its usual bravado. “nervous?”

“are you?” you shot back, emboldened by the faint tremor in his hand.

“terrified,” he admitted, almost inaudibly, before he leaned in.

the first press of his lips against yours was tentative, a soft, testing thing that quickly gave way to something hungrier when you didn’t pull back. his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer as his confidence returned in the way he kissed you—playful, teasing, with the occasional nip at your bottom lip that left you breathless.

you fisted the fabric of his shirt, grounding yourself as the heat between you grew. his smirk returned when he pulled away, his forehead resting against yours. “i told you, you can’t resist me.” but his pink cheeks betrayed him, revealing just how badly he’d wanted this.

[madridfangirl]

Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fic)

Chapter 16

Jude * female reader. Mature Language in parts.

Synopsis: A chance encounter in a tiny Madrid cafe with the newest superstar of her fav club. The two couldn't be more different, yet both feel the pull toward the other. Would this girl be the one he finally falls for? Or would life come in the way of these star-crossed lovers?

..................................................

Ananya stared at the photo without blinking. Consciously trying to figure whether this was real or a cruel nightmare she’d wake up from any second.

When her phone flashed with Roma’s name, she knew she was living her nightmare. There was no escape.

‘Finally.’

Roma’s relieved voice came from the speaker, while Ananya’s eyes were still glued to the photo.

‘Say something girl. Please.’

There was no point asking if Ananya had seen the article and the photos, and that one photo in particular. The deafening eerie silence at the other end was confirmation enough.

‘She’s pretty, isn’t she?’

Roma started pacing around her boyfriend’s living room. This is exactly what she was worried about. That her friend would somehow find a way to take it upon herself, instead of being raving mad at that fucker. 

‘No babe, don’t do that to yourself.’

‘Well she is. Very beautiful.’

‘I DON’T FUCKING CARE how she looks or who she is. This is not about her.’

Ananya shook her head ruefully, and spoke in a small, faraway voice.

‘She is just his type.’

Roma wanted to throw her phone at the wall. And Jude out of the window.

Guilt was hitting her in truckloads. And she cursed the moment when she had encouraged Ananya to give this relationship a shot. Moments rather, coz there had been many. She had been #TeamJude every step of the way. Look where it got her friend.

But this wasn’t the time to have her own meltdown. She needed to be strong for Ananya, whose voice & state she was struggling to read presently. Getting her to talk was crucial.

‘Has he called? Has he tried to explain?’

‘He hasn’t called since he left Madrid last weekend. And what’s left to explain in this?’

The article stated specifically that the images had not been tampered with, they had the original & had verified it. There were two eyewitness accounts confirming it too. Who further added that the ‘couple’ were ‘cozy’ and ‘inseparable’ all night. Other than the lip-lock photo, there were a few others of them sitting close to each other in a small group, smiling, having drinks, giggling. The over-familiarity all too visible. This was more than the usual Jude friendliness, no one could convince Ananya otherwise. Not even Jude.

There was nothing left to clarify. Maybe he didn’t even feel the need to. The fact that there wasn’t even a peep from him yet was maybe his way of sending a message. That whatever ‘arrangement’ they had, it was over. 

Roma had no logical counter to this, but some instinct was telling her to hear Jude’s side of the story. That is, if he had a side to share and if he had any interest in sharing it. Sadly, Ananya’s reading of it was very much a possibility. Roma had to admit that Jude was capable of it. He moved on quickly from his arrangements, without much care for who or what was left behind. Somehow though, she was convinced that he was different with Ananya. Their interactions over the last 2 months further solidified her belief that Jude genuinely cared for Ananya. How could both of them read him so wrong? Something about it was not sitting right, but the lip-lock photo was staring her in the face. How could she deny that? How could she give any false hope to her friend, when she had already caused her so much pain?

Her friend may not have been showing that pain explicitly, but Roma knew Ananya was falling back on the veneer of logic & practicality in order to hide her vulnerability & heartbreak. The shield was up, guarding her from further hurt.

‘Why didn’t you stop me, Roma? These silly fairytales never work, they always end this way. Why didn’t you tell me he was out of my league?’

‘He is not out of your league. YOU ARE OUT OF HIS LEAGUE. If all he wants to do is fuck those dumb bimbos who run after him 24*7 then to hell with him.’

‘See, you’re doing it again.’

‘I am telling you PLAIN FACTS ANANYA. He was not the catch in this one, YOU ARE.’

Ananya laughed a deeply broken laugh. And Roma wished if she could somehow teleport and be with her friend right now. Her being all alone in that apartment and in Madrid had come at the worst time.

‘He could have at least told me himself. I deserved that much, no?’

Roma fought the urge to curse the living daylights out of that bastard. But something was telling her that despite all this, Ananya still won’t like that.

‘You deserved a lot more. You deserve a lot better than that asshole.’

‘I…wait what time is it in the US right now? Must be way past midnight right?’

‘Doesn’t matter.’

‘Go to sleep, Roma.’

‘Rubbish. Talk to me. I’m not leaving you alone.’

‘Actually I kinda want to be alone. You know that’s how I process things.’

‘But…’

‘I’d be here when you wake up. Won’t do something stupid, if that’s what you are worried about.’

‘I don’t like how put together you sound.’

Ananya laughed that distant laugh again. It sounded so bitter and unpleasant to Roma, she never wanted to hear that sound again.

‘Want me to bawl my eyes out? That would be a natural & healthy reaction?’

‘Yes. That’s how I’d know it has hit you.’

Roma responded without missing a beat. She knew Ananya had this internal way of dealing with things but even then this felt messed up.

Ananya didn’t know how to articulate to her friend anymore. The tears were just not coming. The absolute sense of distraughtness and betrayal she should feel right now was just not happening. Maybe, maybe, a part of her always knew this would happen & was prepared for this? Maybe that’s why she was being able to disassociate herself from the situation and look at it so dispassionately?

‘Go to sleep Roma. You’ve been up all night. And remember - don’t contact him at all. No message, no call, just nothing. Don’t say anything to him. Maybe he’s even blocked us by now.’

It was part of his modus operandi. Ananya won’t be surprised.

Roma could see what Ananya was doing. The hurt was making her think of the worst and be prepared for it so even if that happens it doesn’t hurt her further. And Roma couldn’t blame her for acting this way. Because the pictures were damning, as were the eyewitness accounts.

She hated herself for pushing Ananya into his arms. The first date, her hesitation before she slept with him, all of that was dancing in Roma’s head, making her feel responsible for the hot mess her friend was in. Despite being aware of her emotionally fragile state and baggage from her previous relationship, Roma had still urged her to give it a go. Because she herself would have given it a go. But Roma should have thought of what was best for Ananya and not how she would respond to such a situation. She had failed as a friend, and Ananya was paying the worst possible price.

‘I’m so sorry babe. I really am.’

‘Stop that right now. You didn’t know him.’

‘I should have known.’

‘Hindsight is a bitch, ok? And guess what - I actually did know this is how he was. Because he told me. In his own words. With examples. But I still somehow convinced myself that I’d be the girl he’d change himself for. How delusional of me. Men like that don’t change, not really, I should have known. If anything, it’s my fault for still going ahead with it despite knowing everything about him.’

‘How about saying IT’S HIS FAULT? Coz that’s the only fucking thing that’s absolutely undeniable.’

‘Sure.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Look we can say whatever. But he’s not the one getting hurt. Maybe he’s still with…with her….right now. Having the time of his life. The only one responsible for my decisions is me. Can’t expect anyone else to make those calls or hold my hand through those. Especially when I knew everything about him. So you can say whatever and blame whoever but it was my decision and I have to live with it. That’s how it is in life. Ultimately you are on your own.’

‘You’re scaring the shit out of me Ananya. You’re not sounding ok.’

‘Actually I’m quite ok. Thinking clearly & straight. Maybe should have done that earlier but it is what it is. Now go, we’ll speak in a few hours. Don’t worry about me. I’m a big girl, I can handle this.’

Roma had no doubt that Ananya was strong when she needed to be. But there is a time to be strong and a time to have a complete meltdown. She should be having a meltdown right now and not vice versa. But, the best Roma could do in this situation was to be there in whatever approach her friend took. 

‘I know you can. I know you will. Talk to you in a few hours, yeah?’

‘Yes. Bye.’

‘Bye babe.’

When Ananya hung up, she didn’t know what to do with herself the next second. Looking at her phone anymore made her pukish. Staying away from it made her anxious. Watching something on OTT or just lying in bed made her dizzy. 

Other than Roma, no one else close to her knew about Jude. And she didn’t want to bother her friend beyond a point either. Roma was meeting Chris after 6 long months and it was Christmas for crying out loud. Why ruin it for others just because her life was fucked up right now.

There was no one else to talk to. Which, in hindsight, was a silver lining. No one else would know what a royal fool she had made of herself. She could almost picture her cousin scoffing at her for trying to be in a ‘relationship’ with a playboy footballer who claimed to want to change for her. That only happened in rom-coms, not in real life. Thing is, she knew that. Very well. But still could not resist him. Solely her fault.

The face of that girl kept flashing in front of her eyes - Ananya couldn’t get her out of her head. 

Then she did something she wasn’t proud of. That she absolutely should not have done. In a weak moment, she found that girl’s Insta and went through her pics.

She was stunningly beautiful. Perfect features. Perfect figure. Perfect hair. Perfect style. Gorgeous from head to toe. The kind of girl who would look perfect on Jude’s arm. The kind of girl Jude would want to show off to the world. Definitely the kind of girl he’d love to take to bed. Given their history and the fact they were on/off for ~2 years or so, they would have explored pretty much everything intimate together. She would have satisfied Jude in ways Ananya couldn’t even imagine.

It made sense for Jude to want to be with her. To go back to her. It was logical. 

Why was it making Ananya’s head spin then? 

She couldn’t be alone with her thoughts, not right now. Even roaming the streets in this chilly winter morning was an acceptable alternative. At least it would numb her, in more ways than one. And she set out to do just that.

Unaware of the absolute carnage he had caused, Jude was passed out in his bed. His team had obviously seen the article and images, as had his parents. The strategy was going to be no comment, as always; it would die down in a few days or a few weeks, as was the norm.

Denise knew Jude had returned in the early hours of the morning and no good would come from speaking to him at this time. So no one had bothered to wake him up. His phone was burning up with messages from friends and teammates, but he was too deep in his drunken stupor.

No one in his close circle knew why this would be catastrophic for Jude or unlike any previous tabloid pieces on him. No one other than Jobe.

When Jobe woke up around 9:30 am, from the constant notifications, he stared at his phone in disbelief. Then, he ran to Jude.

Not bothering to knock or anything, he breezed past his brother’s bedroom door to find him face down on the bed. Drooling in his sleep. The clothes & shoes from last night thrown around the room. 

Jobe shook his arm. No response.

Then he shook him harder. Jude whined loudly.

‘Go away.’

‘Stop being a brat & wake the fuck up. Right now.’

That got Jude’s attention. Because Jobe rarely took that tone with him.

Rubbing his eyes, still half disoriented, he sat up on the bed.

‘What is it?’

Jobe just threw his phone in Jude’s lap.

And the colour drained from Jude’s face. In real time. 

Frozen, wide-eyed, he stared at the photo on the screen. A million thoughts scrambling in his head yet not a single coherent one coming out.

‘Shit. No no no GOD NO.’

Jude looked up desperately at his brother, who was looking back intently with his arms crossed, trying to get a read on him.

‘See the rest of it.’

Jobe said plainly; his tone cutting through Jude’s mumbling sounds.

When Jude did, he almost wished he hadn’t. Every image, every caption more damning than the other. He could see what it looked like. And nothing was as stark as that ‘lip-lock’ thing.

The denial and shock made way to sudden rage at this massive invasion of privacy.

‘It was a fucking private club that charged buttloads for being so. Who the fuck even took these?’

‘So it’s true then?’

Jobe’s posture was neutral, but Jude saw the irritation in his tone.

‘NO. I mean, not all of it. Its….its not what it looks like.’

‘Cut the bullshit & tell me straight. Did something happen with her last night?’

Shoulders dropped in defeat, Jude covered his face with both his hands. Jobe knew him the best. And if even he had to ask this, what hope could he have with her?

‘It’s not what it looks like.’

Jude whispered, almost to himself, swaying from side to side.

Jobe eyed him for a few moments. It didn’t feel like his brother was lying, but he was guilty about something. 

‘How would I get her to believe me, Jobe?’

He was still hiding beneath his hands. Hoping for this new reality to just vanish.

‘Do you want to?’

Jude grabbed his hand and pulled his brother down to sit close to him. Then, he flung himself at Jobe and Jobe’s arms came around his shoulders, hugging him back.

‘Please, not you too. You gotta believe me, please.’

‘I’m not the one you need to convince bro.’

Jude looked up at him then, with such hope & nerves that it tugged at Jobe’s heart.

‘I need to know this. Do you believe me?’

A long pause.

‘Yes.’

Jude went back into Jobe’s arms, as the younger boy patted his brother’s back gently.

‘Talk to her. Tell her everything.’

Jobe hadn’t understood what the ‘everything’ was but looking at Jude, he could tell there was more than meets the eye. His brother seemed to have fucked up somehow, just not as much as it looked like.

Jude kept his head buried in Jobe’s chest. He couldn’t seem to catch a break. This couldn’t have come at a worst time. Just when she was starting to….

‘Can you check my phone? See if there’s anything from her?’

He was too anxious to check himself, like there was some finality to it.

‘There’s nothing.’

Somehow, that was even worse.

‘Maybe she hasn’t seen it yet. It’s what, 11 am in Madrid?'

‘She has. I can feel that she has.’

‘Call her then.’

Jude’s fingers hovered over the call button, and finally Jobe clicked it for him.

It rang once. No response. They tried again. No response. One more time. Same result.

‘She’s got a roommate no? Call her maybe?’

Jude knew that if they had talked, then he won’t get a different response from Roma. He’d probably get a worse response in fact. 

But he was desperate. So he tried it. Two full rings, nothing. 

Then it hit him. During one of the movie nights at Ananya’s place, Roma had mentioned about her Christmas plans. One quick look at her Insta and Jude knew she was back in the US. She had been there all week.

So Ananya was alone in Madrid? All this week? That sucked big time. And he didn’t even realise that. Until now.

He looked at Jobe in despair.

‘Text her. Leave her a voice note. You can’t not do anything.’

When Jude opened his chat window with her, he realised that was all he had done all week. Just texts & voice notes. Brief. Hurried. But there was no time to kick himself. Time was of utmost essence right now.

‘Trying to reach you, dove. Pls call me back.’

Then he went back to staring at his phone, willing her to respond, while Jobe walked around the room, thinking what else could be done here.

One full hour passed. And Jude’s heart sank further with each minute.

Meanwhile, Ananya was taking a long walk on the Madrid streets in the mind-numbing cold. When the chill got too much to handle, she went to a nearby mall and sat at a coffee shop. Initially, the hustle & bustle around her was a welcome distraction. But soon it became unbearable. Happy families, cheerful friends and loving couples. While she didn’t have anyone right now. Their happiness was mocking her. So she took the long walk back home, delaying reaching that place to the extent possible.

Once inside, where she could feel her fingers again, she pulled out her phone & found 3 missed calls + three messages from her supposed boyfriend.

Boyfriend. Yeah right.

She read the first message and scoffed at the nick-name.

The next one had come 15 mins after the first.

‘Missing you. Pls talk to me.’

She scoffed harder at the ‘missing’ part. Last week was surely a unique way of missing her. She looked at the last message finally.

‘Baby I’m worried now. Need to hear your voice.’

This charade needed to end. She needed to rip off this band-aid. Maybe it would even give her some clarity?

Ananya stood in front of the mirror and took a long hard look at herself. She still hadn’t cried yet. Not a single tear. She didn’t know why. 

Maybe because she had been an emotional wreck in her last relationship. So much that she couldn’t even recognise herself at times. That had not done anyone any good. She had vowed to be different in this one. To be the voice of reason & logic, not some sobbing little sap. 

Was it really not normal? Was Roma right? She didn’t know, but at least this steeled up state put her in a decent space to talk to him and get it over with. To see what kind of story he would concoct. At least she won’t be a mess in front of him. She won’t give him the satisfaction of breaking her.

Just then, her phone flashed with a video call from Jude. She disconnected it & dialled him on audio. Jude nearly dropped the phone when she called back - with relief and with nerves.

‘Oh thank god. I was starting to get worried.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Let me see you, dove? Let’s face-time?’

‘I think this is fine.’

Awkward silence ensued. Ananya had no intention of helping him or giving him any segue. The least he could do was man up and have the balls to admit what he did. She waited for him to get there.

Her aloofness was confirmation enough. She had seen everything. Read everything. Suddenly Jude was at a loss for words. So he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

‘It’s not what it looks like.’

And there it was. 

‘The photos are doctored?’

‘No, but..’

‘The kiss didn’t happen?

‘It did, but…’

‘Did you sleep with her?’

‘WHAT?’

‘What part of that did you not understand? Did you spend last night with her? Are you still in her bed or on your way back?’

The sheer lack of emotion in her tone made her sound so cold. Distant. It hit him like a whiplash. 

Jude had heard a similar voice before, when the earlier tabloid piece had come out. But this was 10x of that. This was his Ananya but not really. It’s like she had locked her emotions away, only letting her brain come to the fore. 

‘I’m home, babe.’

‘Oh. Didn’t have a morning tumble then? Thought you really liked those.’

Jude shut his eyes tightly, and ran his spare hand through his hair. Absolutely losing handle on the conversation. 

‘Please I’m begging you pls just hear me out ONCE. Please.’

He heard a sharp intake of breath at the other end. A decision had been reached.

‘Fine.’

‘We bumped into each other at a private club yesterday. Hadn’t seen each other in over 2 years so just got talking. Remember, we were friends before we started dating, yeah? She was mostly talking about football and how great it was to see my journey. Then we spoke about some school mates and what they were up to right now. Shared a laugh or two about them. That’s what you see in the other photos. It wasn’t some personal conversation about her & I or our time together. We didn’t go there, I swear.’

‘And yet you magically kissed after that? How amusing.’

Jude sighed deeply. This next part would be a lot harder to navigate, he knew that already.

‘We were drunk. Out of our wits. The lads wanted to go to another club so when we were pushing off, I leaned in to greet her and….kiss her goodbye….on her cheek. In hindsight should not have done that either but hindsight is a bitch. She….she turned her face at the last moment and…it turned into a proper kiss. But I swear I pulled away immediately.’

Ananya laughed that bitter laugh, the one Roma had heard a few hours ago. It turned Jude’s hands cold.

‘So she came on to you? That’s the line you’re taking?’

‘Well that or she was drunk & it was an accident for her too.’

‘I see. Which one do you think it was? Accident or she wanted to kiss you?’

The cold hands suddenly were clammy now.

‘I…I don’t know.’

“Do me a favour & take a guess.’

He knew she could sense the guilt in his voice, hence was doubling down. In a different situation he was capable of straight up lying & getting away. But with her he just couldn’t. 

‘I-I think I may have… led her on. It may have looked more to her than what it was.’

Zero response from the other end. Just the sound of her breathing. He took it as a cue to continue.

‘Given our history…and familiarity…our proximity may have given her the impression that I was….interested.’

‘That, and the coziness and the inseparability, yeah?’

‘Don’t believe the tabloid captions, babe. You know what they are like.’

‘I’m gonna believe my eyes. I saw how you were with her. In every photo, not just THAT one.’

‘I swear I didn’t…’

She cut him off, having heard enough of his swears.

‘Why didn’t you tell me immediately? Why didn’t I hear this from you?’

‘It was late. I was drunk. Wasn’t thinking straight. Was still trying to understand what the fuck just happened.’

‘And you didn’t know there was going to be any evidence of it.’

Long pregnant pause. Then a small choked voice.

‘Yes.’

‘Hmm. So your intentions were all holy & pure but she misunderstood them somehow and came on to you and kissed you. And it only happened ONCE but somehow in just that ONE moment there was someone to capture that clear photo. Then you went your separate ways yet you didn’t bother to tell your current girlfriend that this gigantic thing happened with your ex-girlfriend. And now you feel you may have led her on inadvertently. That sums it up?’

‘I know how it sounds. I know how it would have looked to you but baby please trust me I didn’t want anything with her. Not for a second.’

‘So you say.’

‘My friends were with me all night. I can get any of them to talk to you.’

‘As if they haven’t lied for you or covered for you before.’

They had. Many times. Jude had no counter to this.

His desperation was at its peak now. He could feel her slipping away. Rapidly.

‘You know what you mean to me. In your heart you know how precious you are to me. Why would I intentionally do anything to screw that up?’

She scoffed so derisively it cut through his soul.

‘Precious? Sure. That’s why you forgot about me all week, as soon as I was out of sight. And someone else was in sight.’

That was one thought Ananya couldn’t shake. That it wasn’t the only time they had met. Maybe the reason he was so MIA this week was because of that girl.

Jude was distraught. She was landing punch after punch. Every word piercing, laden with truth. And he had no defence to any of it.

‘Why are you talking to me like this? Like you don’t…care anymore. Like it doesn’t matter anymore. Like you’ve already decided I’m guilty and…and…whatever I say makes no difference.’

She refused to humour that with a response. It was self-explanatory according to her.

‘Don’t do this. Please I’m scared. Don’t pull away like this. I don’t know what to do, dove. You know me. You’ve always understood me. Pls one more time, pls try to understand.’

Understanding him was all she had done since she met him. His ways, his lifestyle, his schedules, his highs & lows, his moods, his past. 

But not only had he made a mickey out of her feelings, he was also insulting her intelligence now by cooking up this convenient story. That was a double whammy she refused to take.

Her silence was making his pulse go a million miles per second.

He needed her back, right fucking now.

‘Look, once I am back there in a few days it will be fine, ok? We’ll meet and we’ll be together and you’ll realise it was all a big misunderstanding. Can’t wait to have you in my arms.’

She had no interest in being subjected to his seductive charm or manipulative ways again. Just so he could reel her back in.

‘I won’t be here when you return.’

‘Wh-what does that mean?’

‘I have moved up my trip to India, leaving in 2 days.’

‘Whyy? When did you…when are you back?’

‘Don’t know yet.’

‘What about work?’

‘Work from home is allowed under special circumstances. I’ll think of something.’

‘So you’re just going to walk out?’

‘Some distance wouldn’t hurt.’

‘Distance from me?’

‘From everything. But yes, mostly from you.’

That was a bodyblow which made him nearly tumble over in pain and hurt. Disorienting him to the point he didn’t know what he was saying anymore.

‘So you’ll run at the first sign of trouble? Not gonna fight for us? I thought you hated your ex for doing that.’

Boy, was that a low blow. She was fuming. If he were near she could have strangled him with her bare hands. After everything he had done, everything they had been through, every time she had given him the benefit of the doubt, the bastard had the audacity to say first sign of trouble? ‘First’? Like it was her fault they were in this mess. Like she was the one who had cheated. 

But why was she surprised? Jude was like any other man, clearly. It was always the girl’s fault. Always.

She won’t give him the satisfaction to get a reaction out of her anymore. He didn’t even deserve her anger.

After a few deep breaths and the burning sting of her nails in her thighs, she recovered.

‘You’re right. I’m the one to blame here.’

‘Can you GET OFF YOUR HIGH HORSE FOR ONE FUCKING MINUTE and talk like a real person? A person with feelings other than sarcasm?’

Her patience reached its limits. 

‘I think we’ve hurt each other enough, yeah? Let’s call it a day.’

‘Are you for real right now?’

‘Are you?’

‘Waittt. Please wait. Pls this can’t be happening. It’s ME. It’s US. How could you walk away from us?’

‘Bye Jude.’

‘NO. NO. Dove please just…’

Her resolve was fast breaking, as was her voice. Despite everything, she couldn’t see him in pain. Not like this.

‘Have a good…good one Jude.’

With that, she hung up.

And all the pent up emotion came flooding out of her eyes.

She cried and cried, falling face down on the bed, clutching the phone to her chest, trying to remember the sound of his voice, because maybe, maybe, this was the last time she had heard it.

Every inch of this house was filled with his memories.

The dining table was where they had their first kiss. The couch had been the place for endless cuddles, cozy dinners and movie nights. The kitchen is where he usually followed her into, as she tried to wrap up some chores or fix them a snack. 

Her bedroom was the worst. So many nights cuddled up together, when he came to her post matches or out of city travels. Their first time had also happened here. The desk, the walls just reminded her of the countless times he had backed her against those.

The place smelled of him. She could almost see his face anywhere she looked.

And she ran. To the first decent escape she could find - a movie hall. A random Spanish language movie was playing, but at least she wasn’t in a place that felt like a graveyard of his memories.

She had sworn to herself to not break this time. No, she will be strong through all this. She will not be a weeping mess. She will not let her heart knock her down, not again.

She had been through this once, she was equipped to handle this.

Jude, on the other hand, had no idea what hit him.

This kind of pain he was not familiar with. When you have no control over your life, and your happiness / sanity is entirely in another person’s hands. The sheer helplessness of it completely caught him off guard.

Why did it have to happen now? Just when he was truly giving it a shot. When she was starting to open up to him. Why now?

He wasn’t even sure what exactly had happened, given how quickly things transpired and boiled up.

Jobe came to check on him a few minutes later and found him sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed. He was quiet, far too quiet for Jobe’s liking.

He sat down next to his big brother, and put an arm around his shoulder. Jude leaned into his touch immediately, leaving his body loose against Jobe’s.

‘Didn’t go well?’

Jobe asked softly.

‘It was horrible. Nasty.’

Jude managed to utter, almost mumbling to himself.

‘Tell me what happened.’

Jude gave a summary and Jobe sighed through it. Once done, Jude looked at his little brother for some suggestion. Or some words of comfort. Or both.

But Jobe’s face was telling him what he needed to know. What he knew already.

‘It’s fucked up, isn’t it?’

‘It is bad bro, not gonna lie. But, maybe, give her some time and it’d get better?’

Jude kept shaking his head, staring into a void.

Ten mins passed by and Jude sat like that. Without saying another word. Just leaning into Jobe.

This was new territory for Jobe as well. He had seen Jude through a ton of lows, mostly professional, but Jude took those to heart as well so they turned personal for him.

But the thing with Jude was, he was always expressive. Emotional. Animated. Wearing his heart on his sleeve. Whether he was angry or upset or sad he would still express his emotion passionately.

It was very rare for Jude to get this quiet. The last time he’d been like this was when Dortmund lost the league on the last match-day. Jobe could tell how dire this was for him.

He pulled out his phone slowly and opened his chat window with Ananya. The pair had actually exchanged a few messages this week. Random stuff - books, shows etc. 

But what could he say to her? Was it his place to intervene? He had only met her like 9 days ago. Only spent a few hours with her. Would it make things worse if he says anything?

Something in his gut was telling him to still do it, and Jobe believed in following his instinct.

‘Hey. Hope you’re doing ok.’

A few seconds later, he could see her typing back.

‘Hey.’

‘I’m sorry for butting in, I really am, but for what it’s worth I don’t think he’s lying.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Because I’ve never seen him like this. Ever.’

‘Were you with him last night?’

‘No.’

‘Then you can’t say for sure.’

‘I know it. I can tell.’

‘You love him, Jobe. He’s your brother. I get it that you’d believe him. But I hope you can see why I can’t.’

Jobe didn’t know what to say beyond this. The writing was on the wall. Loud & clear. 

Jude was still zonked out. This had gone beyond Jobe’s handling power. He needed the big gun here.

Denise got Jobe’s message and came into the room, finding both her boys sitting on the floor. Air filled with doom & gloom.

Alarmed, she rushed to them and Jobe stood up, letting Denise take his place next to Jude. 

Jude immediately melted in Denise’s arms, placing his head on her lap.

She patted him gently, rocking him a little while Jobe filled her in about Ananya. 

Denise wasn’t surprised; she had known all along something was different with Jude last few weeks. She had even hinted it to him once or twice but eventually let it be, thinking he’d come tell her when he’s ready. If he’s ready. But she didn’t know it was something deep. Something this deep.

Jude’s face and silence was telling her all she needed to know. About how much that girl meant to her boy.

She ran her hand through his hair, and stroked his shoulder with the other hand. Jude sighed in her lap, near tears. The moment reminded her of how Jude had cried while leaving Birmingham City 3.5 years also. Even then he had been on the floor, while she tried to console her 17 year old who was moving away from home forever.

‘Do you want to make this right, Jude?’

Her tone was loving, but not overly so. Because she knew how heartbroken that girl would be at the other end, far worse than her son. And her son needed to learn that actions have consequences, especially in matters of the heart.

Jude whimpered out a response.

‘Ofcourse, mum. I need her. What do I do?’

‘If you truly want to be with her, then you’d know what to do. Think what she would want you to do right now.’

And instantly, it hit Jude.

Ananya returned late in the evening, and was just taking off her coat, when she heard her doorbell.

Thinking it must be some neighbourhood folks coming to offer her Christmas pudding, AGAIN, she dragged herself to the door.

And found him on the other side. The man of her dreams. The cause of her nightmares. Jude fucking Bellingham was standing at her door, with a bouquet of white tulips in his hand.

...........................................................................................

There you go.

I broke the original idea of the chapter into two - Ch 16 and 17.

Else it was becoming a very long & emotionally draining one chapter.

This should give you more clarity.

As always, would love to hear your thoughts / comments / messages.

[johnnysuhbmarine]

Knowing a change of scenery was what your mental health needed, you transferred to where your brother, Mark, goes to college. The good news is, he’s not too cool for his younger sister, so he lets you join his friend group immediately. The bad news is, Haechan is in that friend group, and a brief encounter four years ago was enough for you to understand he does NOT like you. Even worse news, he’s a lot hotter than he was four years ago…

Chapter Fifteen: I'll just ask Mark - four images, 1.5k words - heads up, this chapter deals more with y/n's mental health than previous ones

You were thankful you didn’t have any classes for the rest of the day, because time slipped right by you while at lunch with Haechan. The two of you got sandwiches and coffee from the library café, but when you quickly realized all the tables were taken, you ended up bringing the food back to Haechan’s apartment just a short walk away. This is where time started flying past. The two of you turned on an old cartoon show to watch while you ate, but once you were finished, your own voices quickly overtook the sound of the television.

It was a strange truth to find out - that you and Haechan actually got along swimmingly, taking to each other like a duck to water. Of course, up until the last week or so, the majority of your time knowing each other was spent either ignoring one another or exemplifying passive aggression; so your ability to actually carry a conversation for hours was a very new concept, but one you could hardly take the time to question when you were too busy laughing until you couldn’t breathe.

Haechan was the first to calm down after the last bout of laughter shared in the living room, and he leaned his head against the front of the couch - the two of you opted to sit on the floor as you ate since there was no coffee table to place everything on; not to mention the couch wasn’t that comfortable in the first place.

He rolled his head to the side so he could look at you, your eyes squeezed shut as you bite on your bottom lip to try and stop more laughs from leaving your system. He let a soft grin come across his face as he took in your presence, and the fact that he was happy here with you. “Remind me to thank Mark for convincing you to transfer,” he says gratefully, traces of a laugh still tainting his light voice. Though, all at once, your body stills, and you open your eyes to meet his soft gaze before swiftly bringing your focus to where you had begun messing with your fingers in your lap.

“Oh. It wasn’t really- he didn’t convince me, so to speak. I had to transfer.” You fumble through your words, embarrassment tinging your cheeks a shade of pink.

Haechan furrowed his brows at you. “What do you mean?” He asks curiously, and you can’t help the heavy sigh that escapes you.

You stop fidgeting, but you can’t bring your gaze up from your lap as you respond smoothly. “I was really, badly depressed. Not to mention half the student body at SM used to actually bully me," you recall with a scoff.

“At the end of the day, I just wanted my brother closer than thirty minutes away from me. Helped me feel less alone, or at least helped me not make rash decisions, I mean- I hated myself. Wasn’t sure I was anything but a waste of space, honestly; and the idea of going to my brother to be talked down felt better than going to my friends, cause I always thought they would leave me if all I did was come to them with struggles. My brother can’t leave, he’s stuck with me. Though most of the time, that doesn’t really make it any easier - it’s still putting so much responsibility on Mark, when he’s probably the last person who needs any more added to his plate. Regardless, he does his best - and only partly because he's forced to," you say with a weak laugh before continuing softly.

"In transferring here, my parents made him promise that he wouldn’t allow me to throw myself into oncoming traffic, or maybe it was off a bridge. I don’t know. Something stupid but-”

You cut yourself off when you hear what you think is a sniffle from beside you. You whip your head over to look and get confirmation that he’s actually crying. “Haechan?” You get out worriedly, your brows furrowing as you take in his wide watery eyes and small trembles. You reach out to wipe away at the tears racing down his face, and he just shakes his head against your hold.

“Don’t leave. Don’t you ever dare leave,” he manages to get out somewhat firmly. Your lips form a tight smile at his care and you shake your head, trying to dispel his worries.

“I’m not-” You start, but he cuts you off and you’re sure it’s because he doesn’t quite believe you…not that you could blame him.

He moves from sitting flat on the ground to instead lean over and engulf you in a hug, made awkward by the fact that he was practically just ramming his body into your side. You didn’t care, you wrapped your arms around him the best you could as he gets out choked words. “I need you. Here. I need you here,” he hiccups, and you break.

“Haechan…it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” you say, trying your best not to cry now, too as you begin to rub a hand up and down his back.

You feel a light poke at your side and glance down to see his pinkie outstretched. You look back up to face him in confusion, but his eyes are still directed towards the floor, not to mention squeezed shut. “P-promise,” he gets out weakly. With the tears staining his face, the shaking of his body, and his choked words, you knew you never wanted to see Haechan like this ever again. So, without truly realizing how much this pinky promise was going to mean to him, you lace your finger with his and watch as the smallest wave of relief crashes over him.

He falls more decidedly against you, and you hold him there tightly, running your fingers gently across his clothes and through his hair. You don’t know how long the two of you stayed like that, but you know you didn’t let up from the hug until he was completely rid of tears. Though, when you lift your arms up and allow him to sit back upright, he doesn’t, and a small smile crosses your face as you gently place your arms back around his figure.

You hadn’t seen him look this small ever before, and the fact that he was being this emotional and vulnerable with you was making warmth spread through your entire body. You only hoped it could transfer through the hug you had him in, figuring he probably needed it more right now - for some reason, it couldn't click that he was crying over you, that he was currently concerned about making sure you felt comforted and cared for...though that quickly changes with his next words.

“I’m sorry I was a dick to you earlier,” he finally says with resolve. You move to shake your head and dismiss it, but he presses on. “I treated you poorly for no reason, and I’m sorry. The last thing I ever want to do is remind you of someone from your old school. I’ll do better. I promise all I’ll ever try to do is put a smile on your face, but if it’s ever not genuine, I need you to know that you can come to me, confide in me, whatever. Your heavy feelings aren’t going to scare me away. You don’t need to ever pretend around me, and if I’m the only person who has made that clear, then so be it, I’ll be your rock.”

He finally moves as he says this so that he can make eye contact with you, unfortunate because you had finally started crying at his words. “It’s so hard,” you squeak out. “With my family, I mean - I just want to be a good daughter- a good sister. They don’t deserve all that stress of my mental health. I- I broke my family’s heart telling them how I thought of myself…the point I was reaching. I don’t ever want to worry them like that again.” As you finish, your attention is turned towards where Haechan lightly grabbed your hand in his.

“You broke mine, too, but you need to understand that I’ll let you break it over and over again if it means you aren’t going through this alone.” There’s nothing but sincerity in his tone and it sends even more tears racing down your cheeks. He sighs, bringing a hand up to wipe gently under your eyes. “Y/n,” he says, his voice soft but filled with intent.

You nod your head, knowing what he was looking for - any confirmation that you were actually taking in his words. “Thank you,” you say weakly, causing a corner of Haechan’s mouth to perk up in a soft grin.

His hand that was previously at your cheek moves up to eventually run back down through your hair, tucking a piece behind your ear. “Do you wanna watch The Aristocats?” He asks gently.

Your wide eyes meet his. “You’d watch it with me again?” You respond in awe.

Haechan lets out a small laugh, turning his gaze to the floor before shaking his head and looking in your teary eyes again. “You said it’s your comfort movie…I’d watch it a thousand times.”

[previous] -> [masterlist] -> [next]

a/n: yuhhhh

Taglist: @fullsunstrawberry @choizzn @raevyng @dudekiss3r @yewshi @artsenthusiastk77 @injunnie-lemon @markeroolee @chan-yeoldelling @sunflowerhae @mystverse @urlovelily @luvandletter @jeonghansshitester @dinonuguaegi @untilthesunrises @clean-soap @andassortedkpop @dlin3 @roseangelxfuma @gomdoleemyson @simmsunshine @swanyvess @awktwurtle @t-102 @kukkurookkoo

@hahaechans @ypoom151999 @goldenclosethobi

[foone]

honestly it would be funny to make an analog horror and include hints to all the normal tropes but then none of them end up being actually the case.

there's a kid acting weird, they weren't abused, murdered, or possessed. they've got ADHD and having trouble at school, but with some medication they're doing better now.

there's a company making a video game and it doesn't come out, and there's mysterious stories about the developers... the game is found on a CD-R at goodwill, and it's a decent if incomplete platformer-RPG.

the developer disappeared because he got kicked out of the country due to an expired work visa. He's actually just fine off in a different country doing work on other things. (fun fact: this happened to the main programmer of Final Fantasy I-III & Secret of Mana halfway through making II & III: His Japanese work visa expired, and they had to finish programming the game by moving all the other (Japanese) developers to Sacramento)

The company is experimenting with weird physics, and they have tons of security with it. There's no portal, no backrooms... but their new capacitor chemistry is significantly cheaper but with similar longevity. The security was to keep their competitors from stealing their millions of dollars of research.

There's a religious sect which has weird rituals and it turns out... they're a bunch of christians who have minor issues with the similar christians they split off from. They are very passionate about 1 Corinthians 3:16 and they refuse to eat avocados or other large berries, at pain of expulsion. What? No? No one got abused or sacrificed. I mean, Tanya sacrificed her weekends for 5 years to cook for the preschool, but she's still alive and happy.

There's a serial killer stalking the city. He leaves cryptic clues to his next target. The police capture him easily with a illegal DNA test after his daughter got cancer.

There's a spooky entity sometimes seen in analog media, and corrupting digital ones... after additional shielding is added to the main turbine of the Long Shoals Power Plant, the audio/visual disturbances in the area vanish.

That spooky tall person haunting the woods turns out to be a trans woman in a hoodie (it's cold in november!) foraging for mushrooms. She talks your ear off about how to tell the difference between Spring kings (Boletus rex-veris) and the deadly brown roll-rim (Paxillus involutus).

The abandoned house has a dark secret: the floorboards on the second floor are not up to code. why do you think it got condemned in the first place? Don't go up there, you might die! not from a ghost, from falling through the floor and getting super-tetanus.

The toy company closed down, all to hide their dark secret: those toys were made in sweatshop! the paint on the dolls has unsafe amounts of lead! The producer for the cartoon resigned in disgrace... no he just got a DUI and spent 9 months in jail for it. no kids were involved and no one died.

there's an alternate history about the US where it turns out all kinds of secret massacres and evil architecture and deals with pure evil and super weapons... but it's just the same ones we did in this reality. you know, the Black Hawk War, the MOVE bombing, the various mining wars, Robert Moses's racist & classist city planning, Project Paperclip, and ICBMs. No need for magic glass or hidden structures inside monuments: we've got Trinity Glass and the Cheyenne Mountain Complex.

You get strange notes left by your door, and it turns out they were all left by that nice lady who helped you with the groceries the other day. Her english isn't so good, and usually her grandson stops by and helps, but he's been away for school and her broken words didn't get across how she had some spare eggs from her chickens if you'd like some, it instead read more like she was going to "take your eggs"?

You can't believe that urban legend about an evil barren woman preying on pregnant women. that was just some bullshit made up by that christian group who was protesting abortion on your campus. It never happened (insert frakes gif here)

The guy stuck in a submarine at the bottom of the ocean is just there because he's an idiot techbro, not because he's a criminal condemned to one final mission at the bottom of a sea of blood in a universe where the stars are all dead. He just thought he was smarter than the people who actually build submarines, and made his out of expired tin foil.

I'm gonna make a analog horror

hard mode: there will be no "anomalies".

[felassan]

Some snippets from DA dev Luke Barrett on the unofficial BioWare forum, cut for length:

DA:I -

User: "I am still convinced that Bioware cut the healing spells and went with barriers instead because of the Multiplayer." Luke Barrett: I can't speak to any other games directly but I can give a bit of historic context for DAI. The game was initially a more dungeon/linear delving - see how far you can get - experience and there was no barrier of any kind. As a side note: healing has always been a hot topic in design because as soon as you include it there are many other conceits you now need take into consideration for the gameplay - one of which I will call 'the Anders problem'. Anyway, as DAI got the date moved and shifted more into the pseudo-openworld the concept of attrition (see how far you can get before having to return to camp) became less relevant and we needed to help the Players have more moment-to-moment agency around their survival. Unfortunately for various reasons (one of which is the sad reality of designing a game with a shifting timeline) the healing couldn't be re-added so we ended up with more of a mitigation strategy in the barrier system. It went through a lot of iterations but eventually landed on what it shipped with which I would call... acceptable (but just barely). Now, I will concede that a part of the reason it didn't return after that shift was an aversion to holy trinity gameplay specifically for MP but it wasn't the core reason. As a side story, trying to balance the game (as that was my job on DAI - and yes, it could be much better haha) we had to all but force Players to take barrier. It is intentionally the first skill in the first tree for the Mage and all the autolevel (I also handled that) is designed to get it right away." [source]

User: "Merry Christmas Luke! Sooo what was the hardest class you had to balance? [DA:I]" Luke Barrett: "I feel like anyone who was around for the post-launch content will already know the answer to this as it was the bane of my existence when I got put exclusively on MP after launch but the Knight-Enchanter barrier absorbing was a pain. Stuff like that is very challenging to feel good without being broken as they are relative to damage so scaling is fairly open-ended. Too little and the casual players won't get use out of it, too much and the character builders will be wildly OP. We actually had a 'no nerfing' guideline for the SP side so it was a hard battle to fix that silly thing 🙃." [source]

"As a fun fact, I did all the logic for autolevel on DAI and the guideline I was given was literally "make functional builds, but don't make something optimal that you'd play"." [source]

DA:TV -

User: "If you can, say thanks to the people making the no die option possible." Luke Barrett: "Done! My team handles this stuff so I let them know 😊" [source]

"Comically, I designed the majority of the items and skills and I am still finding it fun making awesome builds (been almost entirely doing playthroughs lately" [source]

"Was really important to the team that everyone could play the way that felt best to them." [source]

"Each specialization has a focus around a few specific mechanics, some of which are the weapons or damage types but you can go off script and make it work for sure (this was intentional in the designs)." [source]

"I designed all the skills and so they're each enjoyable to me to some extent. I have been playing through the game over and over the last couple months for balance purposes so I've played them all fairly extensively." [source]

User: "Necrotic sounds like it could be either Spirit or Nature." User: "For Rogue, it replace "poison". For Mage, it replace spirit (Spirit bomb). For Warrior, it's more spirit (especially Reaper), but some skills could work as poison too. So basically they merged spirit and nature." Luke Barrett: "Thats pretty close to spot on. They were actually heavily iterated on throughout development - I can't (at least currently) go into specifics as to why though." [source]

"the target for the progression vision is that you can make a viable build out of almost** any aspect of the gameplay." [source]

"As for timelines, We started DA4 in October of 2015 roughly. The entire team was moved to MEA for about 3-4 months to help it ship and I also spent all of 3 weeks helping out on Anthem. But otherwise I've been on some incarnation of DA4 for about 9 years now - pretty ready for it to release 😅." [source]

"yes, years of working on the same thing can cause some burnout but I've played through the full game probably about 8 times in the last few months and it's still fun (though some of the specific levels that haven't changed in a long time I've done 50+ times easily and I could do without ever seeing them again 😂)." [source]

User: "I do kind of feel that at this point the DA team has put so much work into creating and improving their tools and learning the ins and outs of Frostbite [...] But who knows what the devs in the trenches really feel" Luke Barrett: "I will say it does some things very well and some things poorly, relative to other engines. Personally I really enjoy Frostbite but I've been using it since 2012. In an ideal world, many engines would be viable and developers would make games suited to the strengths of a specific engine." [source]

User: "Since this game is much more stat heavy than prior titles, specifically when it comes to skills and gear, there's likely a need for some balance changes to be made post-launch. Does the game being playable completely offline hinder the data capture side for your team (in terms of analytics), or is this a non-factor?" Luke Barrett: "Generally speaking, most people leave data analytics on so we get more than enough data coming in. Additionally, I'll personally be watching several channels for things that are underperforming (relatively speaking) and not have to nerf anything. The rpg side is vast though and I'm sure people will find OP combinations/synergies that might need 'adjustments' but as long as it's fun and not an "I win" button that trivializes combat I'm pretty cool with it." [source]

Luke Barrett: "I can safely say there are many builds for each class that will feel very powerful if you're not on the highest difficulty 😉. What I'm really excited for is when the guides comes out that show people the fastest way to get some of the uniques that unlock 'special' gameplay 😊. Let's just say I love the feeling of rushing to Patches in DS1 and kicking him off the bridge for the Crescent Axe (iykyk)." [source] User: "Speaking of guides. Will there be a guidebook like there was for DAI? " Luke Barrett: "Not that I'm aware of but I'm happy to help feed info to somewhere like fextralife or the dragon age wiki after a week or so to help with those pursuits. Have to leave some time for exploration and discovery before the optimizers streamline the experience 😉" [source]

"Effectively, at least until the game launches (and likely a week or so after), you won't get anything interesting out of any of the devs save Mike Gamble or John Epler. Longer term I hope to be very active, at least for build mechanics and all the combat/rpg nuts and bolts conversations." [source]

"I started "da4" in October 2015 and so after 9 years of effort (minus 3 months on Andromeda) I'm quite excited for tomorrow and the launch week. I don't know if I'd say nervous, I feel pretty confident in the product, but definitely that eager kid before Christmas feeling 😊" [source]

"As the person who did all the balance, I will say that if you are comprehending how to make a cohesive build and understand the combat mechanics, you should play on Underdog. One of the downsides to having a lot of power growth vectors is the difference between people who engage vs those that don't becomes a chasm quite quickly. If you start blowing enemies up rapidly, turn up the difficulty (or play on nightmare where that will not be the case) - basically if it ever feels super easy or like enemies are health sponges you're probably on the wrong setting for your skill level. The custom difficulty settings are there to make the gameplay enjoyable (for whatever that means to you)." [source]

"As a tip from me, the balance is subtly tipped in the players favor until the last fight of the 3rd combat mission. Be warned if it's feeling too easy you may want to wait until after that to decide." [source]

[on DA MP] Luke Barrett: "It was actually pretty fun but very much not what most people wanted us to make (including internally). Also we had, let's say, limited staff who had a passion and background in MP so it was definitely the right call to go SP only. Now, it would have been nice had we just started that way but so it goes sometimes." [source] User: "You still play it yourself from time to time (DA MP), or have you left it be?" Luke Barrett: "After playing variations of DA4 for so many years (9!!!) it's hard to go back to anything with DAI controls/gameplay speed. Even the initial Joplin prototypes I was doing were much more snappy/twitchy - for everything good about DAI the combat was definitely in the middle of two different styles." [source]

[on aiming bows] "we actually used to have separate buttons for ADS and ranged attack but it was wildly overloading the controller. These RPG games need controllers with at least 2 more buttons (fingers crossed for the next gen)" [source]

User: "After the last few games, I'm really surprised by the current skill... tree?" Luke Barrett: "I call it a skill graph - aside from the beginning where you have 3 choices the entirety of it is 2 choice splits and it'll essentially make a build for you. Just go a little at a time and aim for whatever specialization seems most fun to you 😄" [source]

"Loot is not random so theoretically guides with drop locations should appear pretty soon." [source]

"Yep, Spellblade is the only spec that directly impacts fire damage but you can get benefits from most of them and still go fire. As for the specs, yes it would have been nice to support all of them but just wasn't in scope unfortunately. Mage has Mourn-Watch, Shadow Dragons, and Antivan Crows specializations - only the Rogue has a Veiljumper one. Deathcaller left side you can go beam based and use a Fire weapon. Evoker you'd likely need to do a hybrid ice/fire build." [source]

User: "Bit of a side question, but for those who intend to make more characters, is BioWare considering upping the amount of playable character slots you can have (currently at 3)? Or is there a hardware restriction here given the game is offline playable?" Luke Barrett: "Don't quote me as I don't handle the technical side of this but my understanding is we have to allocate a specific amount of HD space on the consoles so we basically have to pick a limit, relative to our save file sizes, and then divide that by number of careers. I'll inquire if this is something we can increase with an optional download or something but I suspect consoles are stuck that way, unfortunately." [source]

[on Patch 1] "It's been awhile since I actually did the content for this patch so I'd have to check but I have a pretty anti-nerf policy for SP games. I know I fixed up a couple enemies that weren't as hard as they were supposed to be and definitely boosted a bunch of synergistic things though. I'll take a look tomorrow but for those that don't know, the turnaround time on these things is about a month of it's not an emergency due to certification process with consoles. Longer term my goal is to keep an eye in telemetry of any underused abilities and items (or enemies with too many kills under their belt) and audit them just to double check if they need a boost or if people just haven't figured them out yet 😉." [source]

"The equippable items are all predetermined with a minor exception*. Some items are class specific (all the weapons, a small amount of armors and accessories, 2 runes) so when you play a different class you'll see your classes 'version' of that item. Things that are random (from a table/pool) are valuables. Exception: Near the very end of the game we do a few checks on what equipment you haven't acquired. A bunch of those final drops, and inventory on the final merchant, simply find stuff you don't have and give it to you. That's basically the only major RNG we have with loot. If you notice even 99% of the skills and item mods employ an effect after a condition is met X times rather than a more traditional 'proc chance'." [source]

[on modding] "Once this starts to pick up, feel free to PM me if anyone needs help 'finding' assets or has questions about how one might mod something. We don't officially support mods buuuuut we don't have any kind of anti-modding stance either" [source]

"To give the high level gist of the resource economy: - each class starts off with minimal ability usage, this is intentional to force people to learn the other combat mechanics as they're a necessary skill and it's easy to lean on a crutch like ability spam and kiting - abilities are designed to feel powerful on use, thus they all have a decent cost and can't be spammed* - weapon attacks generate your resource - in the bottom right of the center skills area is a node to make each class's resource easier to manage - halfway down all starting segments (N, SW, SE) there is always a node that boosts generation - there are +max nodes on all sides of the skill graph for each class, this is particularly important for the Mage as they start each fight at max - each class can build into being ability focused but starts intentionally rounded - loastly, the first ability is always a resource spender and 1 or 2 of the next available ones will be cooldown gated. It is recommended to have at least one cooldown based ability slotted" [source]

"So loosely the rogue momentum works like this: - each ability costs 50 momentum - hitting enemies generates ~2 momentum per hit (base), you get extra for bow weakpoints - when you are directly hit, you lose 15% of your current momentum, this means the more you hold the more you will lose (this loss has a small cooldown so you don't lose a whole bar when you get hit rapidly) - momentum carries forward between combats (compared to warrior rage which decays when out of combat) If youre having issues, make sure you get that skill in the middle section that reduces momentum loss when hit. As a helpful tip, the Quicken buff generates small amounts of momentum each second so it's a good way to get more if you're having issues." [source]

"I highly recommend using the belt that grants Quicken early game until you can generate momentum faster yourself. And yes, the time dilation affects everything in the world except the Player so all your buffs and things still tick at normal speed" [source]

User: "If I knock an enemy off an edge, if they were supposed to drop something will it appear on the edge, or is it lost for good?" Luke Barrett: "It should appear on the ledge. I will say the 'real' loot from enemy drops are all hand placed. The actual random stuff is just valuables and materials." [source]

" The way it actually works is very complicated with a lot of necessary exceptions but loosely - each ability has a base damage and ones that hit multiple times have an offset multiplier. - That value is multiplied by the sum of all your stat bonuses, conditional bonuses, resist and layer modifiers. - We then subtract enemy defense and multiply by 1-resist (with penetration being calculated here). - this new damage then gets multiplied by 1+crit+weakpointpoint (so those bonuses always feel meaty) and then multiplied by a random number between .95 and 1.05 just to give a little range to the floaties (basically just a presentation thing) - we then multiply again for buffs and debuffs so they, again, always feel meaningful - lastly, we take all added damage and add it flat on top" [source]

"Specific enhancements make enemies immune to the matching affliction. For example, Fire Enchanted enemies are immune to burning. Juggernaut enemies are immune to being staggered but otherwise it should work in everything." [source]

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/767420735500271616/so-the-thing-with-content-is-that-is-literally?source=share

The thing that makes the jellyfish hat content is that it is an object containing paper mache, fabric, cardboard, and the assorted accoutrements of jellyfish hat-making (the optional but popular add-ons go listed here in your head).

and implies that the container is more relevant in this specific context than the thing contained

No. that's not an implication. That's a thing you're making up in order to have an excuse to get angry about someone using a word you don't like, but it's not true. If I say, "I dumped open the contents of the box onto the floor", it is very easily discerned by most readers I am looking for something specific that is within the contents of that box. It is insanity to insist that the word content = the container being the most important thing on Earth. If I write "he opened the small box, revealing its' content: a single, small wedding ring" and you think the box is the focus, I just flat-out don't know what to tell you.

Setting that aside: holy shit, please calm down. I'm a bit busy with organizing resources for my local trans community at the moment but I promise you, there are worse problems than someone using a word you don't like. There was an election this year - don't know if you noticed - that impacts real people. Looking at all your anon and off-anon replies, the thing I keep thinking is, "Holy shit, who fucking cares? There are actual issues going on in the world right now!"

The fact that something I sent in during a ten minute snack break at work and quickly forgot about lives rent-free in your head to this degree days after it was said is highly, highly concerning. I cannot convey enough to you how much I did not mean to set off an episode in you, and at the same time, I am also very genuine when I say this may be a hill you're willing to die on, but it's not a hill I'm willing to kill you on. I kill people on important hills and jellyfish hats ain't it, chief.

It's wild to spend my time IRL trying to help people figure out what to do if our state makes it illegal for them to get HRT in-state and then pull up my phone and see someone this pressed about the word "content". Surely your life also has an important issue you could spend time on? No one is having a particularly good time right now. Maybe focus on a thing with literally any relevance to your quality of life whatsoever? I know that sounds glib. However, having had manic episodes where one thing someone said to me sent me over the edge, I'm not being glib. I really mean it when I say that redirecting your focus onto something important helps snap you out of it. It's how I got myself out of it before I was able to get medicated for my Bipolar Disorder. I take zero joy in seeing someone forth at the mouth because one person said one word and that made them spiral. I really do apologize, and I can see that this panic is a very real, valid emotion on your end. But 'valid' here is used only in the sense of 'I believe you when you say you feel panicked', not 'the panic is a logical, proportionate response to the trigger'. (As a side note, after this many anon and off-anon messages indicating fixation and extreme emotional overinvestment, I don't want anyone saying I misused the word trigger. This is not a proportionate response to someone using one word you dislike.)

The jellyfish hat contains materials needed to construct a hat. It doesn't need ads or legal agreements in order to contain cardboard, paper mache, etc. You are trying to make a mountain out of a molehill. Likely, you are taking your anger at something that actually matters and redirecting it onto this, a thing that does not matter. I'm not saying that in judgment - we all do it - but I am not going to be replying to this further. You may have a desire to use other people's words as an excuse to spiral but you'll have to find someone else to use the reason you're losing your shit.

The hat contains the materials needed to construct a hat. It's not that deep.

--

[maybanksmusings]

THE WALLS ; JJ MAYBANK

SYNOPSIS ; when an unknown face appears in the outer banks searching for a father she's never met, she's unaware of how her life is about to be completely turned upside down.

WARNINGS ; jjmaybank x routledge!reader, strong language, depictions of violence, afab!reader, sexual content, mentions of abuse, drug and alcohol consumption, strangers to lovers, fast burn to slow burn, canon adjacent, not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE ; no yapping today

part one. part two.

you never knew how relaxing it was to lay in the sun, the steady movements of the boat gently rocking you side to side. it was almost as if you hadn't set fire to everything you and john b grew up believing.

john b knew his mom took off when he was a kid, what he didn't know was that she was pregnant when she left. you thought that your dad died and your mom lived in your hometown her entire life.

both of you agreed that, for now at least, this branch of the family tree would be kept from the others until you've had enough time to fully wrap your heads around everything without the added input from everyone else.

"ladies and losers." john b claps, grabbing the attention of everyone on board "with the newest addition to our dysfunctional family," he gestures in your direction earning applause from the group, with the addition of a cheer from jj "the no pouge-on-pouge macking rule is still in full effect, just in case anyone has forgotten."

you don't miss the glare sent in jj's direction, the blond in question, however, was too busy making a face at you to even notice that he was the target of that rule.

it takes everything in you not to laugh, you understand why the rule may have been implemented in the past. young kids making up rules to protect their friendship. but you surely were all old enough and mature enough to handle real adult relationships.

"does our newest recruit partake?" pope asked throwing a can of beer to jj and kiara before looking at you once more.

"are you forgetting she was flat drunk when she went all cat woman on topper?" kiara joked, cracking open her can and raising it to you "to passing your initiation."

"and to beating the shit out of a kook!"

"here here!"

you sit up to bow as the others raise their cans to you, unable to stop the soft laugh that escapes as you sit up again "thank you, thank you. i'd like to thank my agent, my manager,"

john b jokingly shoves your shoulder to shut you up "a little humility wouldn't kill you, you know."

"humility is for losers" you taunt, making your way over to the cooler to see for yourself what was inside "besides, you owe me so humility is redundant."

before you can continue excusing your incoming speech, you're jolted forward by a sudden bump in the boat. you lose your footing, grabbing the closest thing to you and dragging it into the water with you.

person. the closest person to you and dragging them into the water with you.

you were a pretty decent swimmer, decent enough to not drown at least, but when you hit the water, any swimming ability was replaced with dread. truth be told you shouldn't be surprised, not even twenty four hours ago someone did in fact try to drown you so it was only natural you began to panic.

your brain was begging your body to do something, to override your fear with instinct, but no matter what you did all you could do was kick and flail.

you cling to the familiar frame dragging you to the surface, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a koala clung to a tree. you hid your face in the crook of jj's neck to shield your tears from the group, even if there was a chance you could explain it away as water in your eyes.

"you're okay, baby" jj coos, his hand cradling the back of your head "you're safe, i got you."

"the fuck was that!?" kiara shouts, helping the boys drag you and jj back onto the boat.

pope peers out over the edge, trying to catch a glimpse of anything that could be in the water "guys, i think we hit a boat?" he calls out over his shoulder.

almost as if in sync, jj and john b exchanged a knowing look. they knew what it meant, from what you learned so far they've been attached at the hip for years so it wasn't a shock that they had some weird telepathy.

without a word from either of them, they dive off the side of the boat and into the water, undoubtedly to scout out whatever pope had spotted. neither kiara or pope showed much of a reaction, probably because they were used to their antics.

you, on the other hand, sat by the edge of the boat and peered into the murky water below. you were holding your breath, waiting for any sort of sign of life from either of the boys.

time passes agonisingly slowly, but soon enough you spot the unmistakable head of brown hair rising to the surface.

"jackpot, baby!" jj hollers, throwing his arms into the air in celebration "one poor bastard made aggie mad, that's a seriously primo boat."

kiara shrugs "what do those kooks expect, they're harming the environment with their flashy boats, it's karma."

"easy there, greenpeace." john b huffs, pulling himself up and into the boat "mother natures most recent victim could have all sorts of profitable shit inside."

"exibit a," jj announces proudly, producing a silver canister from his pocket "would our newest pledge like to do the honours?"

"i would love to incriminate myself by stealing private property!" you exclaim, sarcasm dripping off of every syllable. nonetheless, you take it from him and shake its contents onto the floor of the boat.

the metallic clang makes everyone wince, the group sighing in disappointment of seeing what was inside.

"wow, greaat, almost died over a lousy compass." jj groans, plopping himself down into a seat.

"it isn't a lousy compass," you mutter, scrambling to retrieve your fathers' compass from your backpack and comparing the two side by side.

they were identical.

"cause that isnt freaky.." pope mumbled, peering over your shoulder.

when you look to john b, he's already looking at you, knowing exactly who this compass used to belong to.

"it's a set," your voice sounds like you have just joined the dots of a brain wracking mystery.

"two compasses, one for each kid."

before anyone can question what exactly john b meant by that, a sharp noise zips past your ear, grazing the top of your arm and scaring the shit out of you.

the five of you look towards the source of the noise, another boat is coming towards the hms pouge, and the two men on board looked far from pleased as they aimed their guns right at the five of you.

"shit, shit!" john b ducks into the drivers seat and hits the gas, jolting all of you backwards as you sped through the marsh "get down!"

you all do as instructed, laying face down on the boats floor, rocking with every sharp, zig-zagged movement john b made. each of you flinch every time a metallic ding rings out against the boat's exterior, you hear kiara humming a tune to keep her mind occupied.

your eyes scan the boat for anything that could help, an idea coming to you the second you spot an old fishing net.

"y/n, what are you doing!? get down!"

you ignore popes shouts, moving quickly to gather up the net and toss it off the back of the boat. as you had hoped, the aggressors' boat gets caught up in the net, allowing john b to get you all out of there without harm.

"you moronic genius!" john b half praises, half scolds, the moment the boat stops at the chateau's dock. grabbing your shoulders and giving you a shake "what is with you and almost dying?"

"a thank you wouldn't hurt," you retort, the throbbing sting in your upper arm still as prominent as when it first happened "this poor girl couldn't handle it."

you pat the side of the hms as you climb off, your fellow pouges following behind as you all tiredly drag your feet towards the house.

"looks gnarly," jj remarked, appearing beside you and focusing his gaze on the small wound on your arm "here, lemme help out."

you are very much aware that it's nothing more than a surface wound, barely a graze, yet you allowed jj to lead you over to the hammock and sit you down.

when he headed inside to grab what he needed, you sank into the comfort of the hammock and closed your eyes. the slight breeze, the gentle rocking of the hammock, the warm sun burning down on you. it does a good job of helping you decompress from the insanity that ensued since your arrival.

the hammock shifts under you when jj returns, the extra weight tilting the fabric to bring you closer to him. he doesn't want to speak, to disturb you in your peaceful bubble. he knows he's staring but he can't look away.

"you just got here and you already look like you've been put through the wringer." jj jokes, though there's a clear sense of seriousness underneath.

and he isn't wrong, the bluish bruises staining your throat from toppers hand, and now the blood smeared all over your arm which made it look much worse than it was.

"two near-death experiences will do that,"

"two near-death experiences so far.."

you know he's telling the truth, but you can't help but laugh as he helps you sit up. a comfortable silence falls between you as he wipes around the graze with a cloth, before gently placing a bandaid over the wound.

the close proximity doesn't seem to phase either of you, at least not enough to get anyone to move. without a word, he reclines back into the hammock, an arm out in a silent invitation.

you reason with yourself that it was harmless, john b's 'macking' rule echoing in your ears as you considered your options. realistically speaking, both you and jj knew this was far from harmless but more like the edge of a slippery slope you could both snowball down.

but you were tired, and it was jj, and the others weren't even around to see it.

no harm, no foul, right?

taglist!

@rainingcecilias @gigistalked @loverofmarsss

[themultifanshipper]

lawsunoda smut plz

Even back in the junior series, Liam knew he wasn't completely straight.

He couldn't explore much though because of how it might put his career in jeopardy. But now he was in F1, and his attraction to men was becoming a serious problem.

Warnings: top yuki, both of them being absolute idiots, wet dreams and cold showers galore, coming in pants (TWICE), tension, Liam being so far in the closet his gaydar is broken, handjobs, blowjobs, first time getting fucked, cum eating, the pacing is atrocious but if I look at this anymore I will have a breakdown

Growing up, he'd often see his friends almost naked and find them just as (if not more) appealing than women.

He'd had silly crushes, and wet dreams, and even some wank-bank worthy fantasies that had kept him occupied on lonely nights, but nothing more than that.

And in this field it was imperative to keep this kind of thing a secret, in case someone got the idea of outing you to ruin your career.

He didn't dare try and find hookups or anything of that sort in case it got out.

So that part of him stayed well hidden.

He even got a girlfriend, who he liked very much, but it certainly had the added bonus of eliminating any suspicion.

Until Daniel Ricciardo broke his hand and he was promoted to full time Formula 1 driver.

George Russell, the head of the GPDA, took one look at him and said “If anyone gives you any trouble about being gay, you come to me. I don't tolerate any workplace discrimination against my fellow drivers”

Liam thanked him, but assured him he had a girlfriend, to which George just chuckled and replied:

“Yeah, we all have girlfriends mate”

He winked at him conspiratorially and walked off , leaving Liam red-faced and sweating at the implications.

Yuki was a pleasure to be around. He was a bit flirty, sometimes bordering on pushy, but he was nice outside of racing and they got along better than most teammates did.

They'd known each other a long time, being in RedBull's junior program and being roommates back in Milton Keynes before Yuki had moved to Italy.

Yuki knew about his… preferences, because on more than one occasion they'd gotten drunk and talked for hours about all sorts of things while under the influence of good booze and good pizza, in the safe space of their apartment.

But they never mentioned it otherwise, and Liam wasn't even sure Yuki remembered those conversations because he was a massive lightweight and was always incredibly hungover the next day.

That didn't change the fact that when Liam became his teammate, Yuki’s old crush came back in full force, and he followed him around like a lost puppy and tried to rile him up 24/7.

Liam soon realised, that Yuki flirted a lot more with him than any of the other drivers did with each other.

Hell the Ferrari drivers were bad enough, but Yuki took it to a whole new level.

It wasn't outright “I like you, I want to fuck” kind of flirting.

 It was more, “poke me and I'll poke you back until we wrestle and inevitably violently make out” kind of flirting.

Which was objectively worse for Liam because like any man, he wasn’t sure if Yuki was genuinely interested or if he was making up the whole thing in his head.

And if there's one thing more terrifying than being outed by a rival, it's being rejected and then outed by a friend.

The teasing continued throughout the season, Yuki getting bolder with every move.

Yuki had been pretty liberal for most of his life, never taking himself too seriously.

He wasn't exactly out, but most of the grid knew he liked to fool around with just about anyone, and he’d had a few male lovers so far.

None of them were as captivating as Liam though.

Liam hadn't got the memo however, because no matter how hard Yuki tried, he couldn't seem to get his intentions across to him.

Every time he tried to initiate his equivalent of gay chicken, (roasting Liam until he hopefully shut him up by kissing him), Liam would just laugh it off as friendly banter.

Yuki was going to have to try a different tactic. Perhaps a more direct approach would do the trick.

The opportunity arose in the form of a bad romcom trope coming to life.

The hotel they were staying in for the Vegas GP had got the reservation wrong.

Either that or the team had purposely booked a double room to cut on expenses.

It didn't matter because either way, Liam and Yuki were going to be sharing a bed for the next few nights.

That was fine. It was all fine.

Liam was a bit nervous but Yuki was secretly thanking the universe for this opportunity.

“No matter what happens, you can't fall in love with me” Liam said teasingly in front of the poor receptionist, who had just broken the news to them and handed them a singular key, but Yuki just smirked at him.

“Too late” he snatched the key from Liam's hand “I already jerk off every night thinking about you”

Liam choked on his spit as he followed him, quickly apologizing to the woman for Yuki's joke before scurrying away in embarrassment.

“Yuki you can't just say that!” His face looked like it had been painted rosso corsa as they crossed the threshold of their room.

“Why? It's true” Yuki laughed humourlessly.

Liam didn't pick up on it though, chuckling to himself as he nervously muttered Jesus Christ under his breath.

They shuffled around the room, pulling stuff out of their suitcases, taking turns showering, and ordering room service for dinner.

“Practice is going to be chaos tomorrow I reckon” Liam said as he chewed on a barely seasoned piece of chicken from his diet-compliant meal.

Yuki hummed in agreement, this was Vegas, the entertainment capital of the world after all.

“Who do you think is most likely to get married in the chapel?” Yuki asked after a few minutes silence.

“I don't know… maybe Lando and Oscar? But they're so shy around each other they'd have to be black out drunk” he laughed and Yuki giggled.

“Definitely, but I think Charles and Max are the ones that need it the most. They both have too many sticks up their asses”

They joked comfortably for a bit and for a while it felt like they were roommates again.

They got ready for bed, both quite tired from their day of travelling.

Yuki was just in a pair of boxers and Liam froze, staring at the extremely fit man in front of him.

He was obviously a lot more jacked than in their junior days, but Liam was taken by surprise at just how fucking thick the man was.

His arms… his chest… his thighs…

Yuki caught him staring and wrongly assumed it was because he was uncomfortable.

“Sorry… I always sleep in just boxers, is that okay?”

It was unreasonable to expect Liam to remember Yuki's sleeping habits from several years ago, but he still felt like a moron as his eyes roamed across the other man's body.

“Yeah, totally cool I'd just… forgotten. You know since… when we lived together… we had separate beds and stuff…” Liam gulped and pulled his own shirt off to avoid saying anything even more embarrassing.

Yuki laughed. “Yes, usually people sleep together before moving in with each other but…”  he winked and slid under the covers, sinking into the mattress and yawning.

“Yeah…” Liam's voice cracked and he followed suit, leaving as much space between their bodies as possible while facing away from the other man.

“Night Yuki” he said quickly, turning the lamp off on his bedside table.

“Goodnight Liam” Yuki sighed, doing the same and falling asleep within about a minute.

Liam just lay there, waiting for sleep to take him, as his mind wandered back to Yuki's body.

He could feel his body heat despite the space between them.

He thought about how Yuki had changed so much since their junior days.

Not just physically, he was a lot more confident, more assertive and more outgoing despite his rather shy nature.

He was also funny and hot, and really one of the best friends Liam had at the moment. Certainly the one he'd known the longest.

He managed to fall asleep sometime around 3, and his dreams consisted of short, jacked, faceless men doing all sorts of things to his body.

The person seemed so familiar, yet so unknown as his hands trailed down his back.

One minute he was on all fours, getting railed, the next he was on top, kissing down a toned pair of pecs as his hips slapped against hairy thighs wrapped around his waist.

Despite never having been with a man, it all seemed so incredibly real and natural to him, as if his subconscious was trying to tell him this was what he was craving.

Then suddenly he was on his knees, a pair of hands tangled in his hair holding his head still as the man forced his cock down Liam's throat. He drooled around it, greedily slurping at it like a slut.

“Fuck Liam, your mouth is so good”

The voice was far away and sounded vaguely familiar, but he didn't pay it any mind, he was concentrating on the task at hand: letting this man use him for his pleasure.

He couldn't breathe, head swimming as his throat was abused over and over, swallowing every last drop of the mystery man's cum.

He woke with a start.

The bed next to him was empty and the sun was barely rising, so the room was still mostly in darkness.

He checked the time… 5:29?

They didn't need to be in the paddock before 11… so why was Yuki in the bathroom taking a shower this fucking early?

Before he could ask himself too many questions he realised that he felt damp.

Not like, sweaty damp, more like a hormonal teenager that's just come in his fucking boxers damp.

He slid a hand into his underwear to check and… yep.

That must have been what woke him up.

And another startling realisation hit.

The dream he was having was very fuzzy, but there was no mistaking the voice of Yuki Tsunoda moaning his name as he fucked his mouth.

So he'd just come in his pants from dreaming about his friend fucking his throat…

He jumped out of bed just as the sound of the shower being turned off hit his ears.

Ripping his soiled underwear off as quickly as he could, and making use of his limited time to clean himself up as best he could, he raced against the clock to try and get another pair of underwear on before Yuki came out.

Luckily he managed it, and he greeted his teammate just as he turned around to see the door of the bathroom open to reveal a dripping wet Yuki with a towel loosely wrapped around his hips.

Liam went in the bathroom after him, feigning needing a piss just to get out of the awkwardness and avoid staring at his teammates dripping body for longer than was strictly appropriate.

The first thing he noticed was that there were none of Yuki's many products in the bathroom.

No shampoo, no body wash… so he'd just got himself wet?

The other thing was a lack of steam and condensation in the small tiled room.

Yuki had had a cold shower.

Liam knew very well that Yuki hated cold showers with a passion.

Unfortunately it was nearly 6 in the morning and his brain was too tired to make any kind of deduction so he did actually end up having a piss then went back to bed and fell almost straight back asleep.

Yuki however could not.

Over on his side of the bed the mood was more one of mild panic.

Yuki had taken a cold shower in the hopes of getting rid of his erection, caused by Liam, who had been moaning in his sleep and grinding his hips into the bed until he came, moaning Yuki's name.

Liam had seemed so uninterested by Yuki's advances that the man was unsure what to make of the situation and his mind raced until it was time to get up and go.

Media day was awkward, to say the least. They didn't really speak to each other much, but the interactions they did have were short and even the RB staff had noticed how jumpy they were being around each other.

That night, Yuki didn't show up at the hotel. He texted Liam saying he was staying with Pierre and not to wait up for him.

So that was it then. Yuki knew what Liam had done the night before and this was the end of their friendship.

Liam didn't get much sleep, and Yuki indeed stayed with Pierre, ranting about what had happened for hours on end, much to the annoyance of the frenchman.

“Yuki” Pierre sighed dramatically “you are so dumb. You obviously like each other and are too scared to admit it”

“Maybe… I will try and talk to him tomorrow”

“Great” Pierre huffed “Now can we please go to sleep?”

They bid each other goodnight, but Yuki's head was still full of unanswered questions.

P1 and P2 went fine. But at the end of the day they were both exhausted and ready to get as much rest as possible for the next day.

They slid into bed, on the same sides as before, barely speaking a word to each other before passing out.

This time when Liam woke with a start, it wasn't because he'd come in his pants, it was because Yuki was spooning him.

He felt a hardness pressing into his ass and didn't take long to figure out what it was.

Yuki was hard, and gently rocking against him in his sleep.

Liam was torn. Should he wake Yuki up and risk the older man being disgusted and ending their friendship then and there? Or should he do nothing and pretend it never happened?

Somehow with the second option he felt like he was taking advantage of Yuki, given how he felt about the man, but selfishly, he decided he didn't care.

If this was to be between only him and himself that was fine.

He arched his back and pushed himself back towards Yuki, to give him more to work with, which worked a treat.

Yuki’s arm that was draped over Liam's body shifted and tightened around his middle, unconsciously pulling Liam's hips back harder against his movements.

Liam let out a shuddery breath as he let it happen, indulging in the strength of the other man, letting Yuki use his body to get off, and he had to reach down and squeeze a hand around his own cock to avoid a replay of the other night.

He only had so many pairs of spare boxers.

He briefly wondered whether Yuki would come against him, whether it would wake him up or not, and whether Yuki would hate himself for it in the morning.

The universe decided to be even crueler than that.

Yuki moaned Liam's name instead.

Quite loudly. And Liam's dick throbbed.

Yuki was dreaming about him?

Was the man's subconscious on drugs?

Why the fuck was he having sex dreams about Liam?

Yuki continued the gentle movement of his hips, letting out soft whines against the back of Liam's neck.

After at least half an hour, and an increasing sense of urgency in Yuki's moans, Liam thought the older man was finally going to come in his pants.

What happened was much more mortifying.

Yuki's body jolted slightly and he froze completely, halting his movements and his moans as the silence became deafening.

Liam knew Yuki had woken up, but Yuki didn't know whether Liam was awake, so they both stayed like that, hard and internally panicking, trying to pretend to be sleeping, for the next several hours.

Well, obviously they were exhausted the next day and did terribly in qualifying, both of them getting knocked out in Q1.

“This has to stop it's not healthy” Pierre said after Yuki had turned up in his hotel room, yet again.

“You don't understand. I want to fuck a straight man, there is nothing more terrifying than that”

Pierre rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“Yuki listen to me. Liam is not straight! It is obvious like the nose in the middle of the face but you refuse to see it”

“He has a girlfriend! He obviously does not want me!” Yuki whined and Pierre almost slapped him.

“Okay fuck this” he took his phone out and texted Liam to come over to his hotel, now.

Liam was a bit confused but he did as he was told, almost sprinting the short distance between the two hotels.

When Pierre opened the door he looked almost murderous.

“Tell Yuki you want him to fuck you, because you two are driving me mental. I am going to stay with Charles. Please don't get cum on the bed.”

And with that he left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Liam stared at a mortified looking Yuki sitting on the bed.

“What is Pierre on about?” he asked tentatively.

Yuki sighed.

“I used to have a crush on you back when we were roommates, you know?”

Liam shook his head. “No I did not know that”

“And when you became my teammate this year it came back… And you told me before that you weren't completely straight but every time I have tried to flirt you have brushed me off so I assumed you don't want anything to do with me. Until the other night when you dreamed about fucking me”

Liam's jaw was on the floor at this point, and he blushed at the mention of that night.

He didn't quite know what to say, so the first thing that came out of his mouth didn't register in his brain until after he said it.

“Actually I was dreaming about you fucking my throat but yeah…” he corrected and they just stared at each other.

They didn't say anything for a long time, trying to decipher what this all meant.

After what felt like an eternity Yuki said:

“Can I please fuck your mouth?”

And Liam didn't hesitate, he dropped to his knees and crawled towards the bed.

“Please” he said, and Yuki groaned, rushing to get his pants down.

This was finally it.

Liam could have cried with relief as the salty taste of Yuki's precum hit his tongue.

He sank down to the base and Yuki choked on air as he watched Liam deepthroat him immediately.

Despite Liam never having been with a man, he’d tried and tested his gag reflex and had found out early on that he just didn't have one.

Yuki was the first lucky bastard to bear witness to that gift of nature.

The older man threaded his fingers through Liam's dirty blonde hair and held him in place while he thrusted his hips up into his waiting mouth.

Liam was in heaven, he was letting his throat be used for Yuki's pleasure and his cock was hard between his legs, so he squeezed a hand around himself.

He couldn't breathe because of how deep the other man was inside his throat, so Yuki pulled him off for a second, and stared at his hooded eyes and the line of spit linking his tip to Liam's swollen lips.

“My god Liam how many guys have you been practising on?”

“None” he rasped “You're my first”

He was about to take Yuki back into his mouth but the older man kept his head still and groaned.

“You have never been with a man?” he asked.

“Nopee…” Liam whined, trying to fill his mouth, but Yuki wasn't letting him. “Please, Yuki”

Yuki almost combusted on the spot.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck my mouth!” he cried impatiently.

Yuki didn't tease him any longer, he rubbed his tip on Liam's tongue teasingly before shoving himself back in to the base.

Liam moaned and his eyes rolled back into his skull as Yuki's balls slapped against his chin every time he buried himself in his throat.

He was floating, almost like in his dream, and his own cock was throbbing between his legs at the feeling of being used like this.

He shouldn't have been so turned on by a blowjob, but he could feel himself slowly edging closer to an orgasm as Yuki's hips stuttered.

“I’m going to come, where do you want it?” Yuki rasped.

Liam answered non-verbally by grasping his hips and shoving him as deep as he could down his throat, while looking up at Yuki with as much submissiveness as he could muster.

Yuki was a goner. The sight of his long time crush completely fucked out, greedily swallowing his cock was so fucking hot that he came down Liam's throat, toes curling at the sudden white hot pleasure coursing through his body.

Liam heaved in a breath as soon as his mouth was empty and it took him a second to realise he had in fact, come in his pants once again.

He was a grown man for fuck's sake.

Yuki had fallen backwards and was trying to catch his breath while staring at the ceiling, so thankfully, had not noticed.

Liam shuffled forwards on his knees and hugged Yuki's midriff, hiding his very red face.

The older man looked down and giggled. His hand went to stroke Liam's hair, fingernails scratching lightly at his scalp.

“Do you want me to repay the favour?” he asked, as Liam's body shuddered.

“No…” he whined into Yuki's shirt “I already uhh… came”

His voice squeaked in embarrassment and Yuki simultaneously melted and twitched with arousal.

“You came from giving me a blowjob?” he asked, bewildered.

“Yeah…” Liam moaned pitifully.

The silence stretched on and Liam was worried that Yuki was weirded out so he opened his mouth to apologise for ruining everything.

But before he could get a word out, Yuki sat up and pulled Liam up into his lap.

Liam was so shocked by the fact that Yuki had just lifted him up like a child, he felt his cock twitch at the casual display of strength.

“Can I see?” Yuki asked breathlessly while his brain short-circuited.

Liam undid his pants and Yuki wasted no time sliding his hand in and wrapping a hand around his half hard cock.

The stickiness made his own semi throb and he pulled his hand out to inspect it.

Liam was holding his breath, surely he wasn't going to-

He was.

He did.

Yuki licked his hand clean of his cum, while making full eye contact.

He hummed at the taste and when he’d finished, he put his hand flat on Liam’s chest to feel his heart beat.

Liam gasped and his hips bucked, brushing against Yuki's rapidly growing bulge. They were both getting extremely turned on again, and the heat in the room was becoming almost suffocating.

Yuki's hand went back into Liam’s pants and curled around his cock once more, to start jerking him off slowly, aided by the slick remnants of his cum.

His other hand went to the back of Liam's head and crashed their lips together in a heated kiss.

It had been a long time coming. A very long time coming.

Yuki could taste himself on Liam tongue and he groaned, tightening his grip which made Liam groan in turn and wrap his arms around Yuki's neck.

As they made out, the hand on Liam's neck went down to his ass and squeezed at the supple flesh, making Liam whine into the kiss.

“Yuki, I need you to fuck me, now” he gasped.

Yuki grunted and turned them around so that Liam was now lying on the bed with his legs hanging off the edge.

Yuki made quick work of both of their clothes and spread Liam's legs, hungrily taking in the other man’s vulnerable state.

“Wait, have you done this before?” he asked, suddenly remembering what he’d said earlier.

Liam shook his head and grinned at him, crossing his hands behind his head, which distracted Yuki slightly because the movement made his biceps flex invitingly.

“Nope… you get the honour of deflowering the great Liam Lawson”

He wasn't sure where this sudden cockiness was coming from, but Yuki just rolled his eyes and went over to the bedside table to grab a bottle of lube he knew Pierre always carried around with him. (Don't ask)

The first finger pushing inside was an odd sensation, but not unpleasant, Liam thought.

Yuki was very generous with the lube, determined to make Liam's first experience as comfortable as possible.

The second finger stretched him out a bit more, and he keened when Yuki accidentally brushed his prostate.

The new sensation sent a jolt up his spine and Yuki chuckled.

Soon enough he was ready, and his cock was angry and leaking all over his stomach.

Yuki somehow resisted the urge to lick it all up, instead he lined himself up and pushed in just an inch.

Liam moaned at the stretch and his hands gripped at the sheets.

“Relax Liam…” Yuki soothed him with a hand rubbing circles on his hip.

“Yes Yuki” he gasped and took a deep breath before the older man managed to push himself in further.

Once Yuki was fully sheathed, Liam could hardly breathe.

Yes it was his first time, but Yuki was big.

But he was also incredibly gentle, letting Liam adjust in his own time before starting to rock his hips in a slow rhythm.

Liam was on fire (in a good way).

He wrapped his legs around Yuki’s waist and pulled him down into a kiss.

The sound of their hips slapping echoed in the room, along with Liam's little ah… ah… ahh’s as Yuki's cock grazed his prostate on every increasingly powerful thrust.

“Yuki!” Liam cried out, overwhelmed by the sensations that were completely new to him.

They looked into each other's eyes as they got closer to their ends, foreheads pressed together making them go cross-eyed. (They looked like lovesick idiots)

“Yuki- fuck, christ I'm… I'm going to- I’m coming!” Liam sobbed as his orgasm washed over him in waves while Yuki chased his own.

“Liam!” he gasped into Liam's mouth as he came inside him, hips grinding against the spot that made him see stars.

They panted and moaned into each others' mouths, coming down from the intense high as Yuki found Liam's hand to intertwine their fingers.

“I love you” he muttered as he kissed down Liam's neck and across his chest.

Tears sprang to Liam's eyes. “Yuki”

The older man looked up at him expectantly.

“I love you too” he whispered and Yuki smiled.

They kissed again, softer and more controlled than before.

They had time.

Pierre wasn't coming back anytime soon so they made use of the en-suite bathroom to take a nice long shower, soaping each other up and giggling like children as they felt each other up.

On their way back to their room, Yuki shot Pierre a quick text.

“We did not get cum on the bed, but you will need to buy more lube”

Pierre must have been waiting with Charles for a sign of life, because his reply was immediate.

“For fuck’s sake, Yuki. I told you to stop stealing my lube!”

“But congratulations or whatever”

[sofa-king-lame]

Buck and Eddie roadtrip in Texas 👀

Ok so I actually started writing this one MONTHS ago and then abandoned it, but now (after 8x08) I feel like I could pick it back up again with better added context.

Basically they go on a road trip (like maybe they fly to Austin for an event or something and decide to hire a car and drive back through El Paso to get Chris or something). Buck isn't sleeping bc insomnia is a bitch and Eddie researches the shit out of different techniques he can use to help Buck.

Here's a snippet:

--

“Have you tried jacking off right before you go to sleep?” Eddie asks as Buck leaves the bathroom and Buck walks right into the arm chair. 

“The fuck, Eddie,” he groans, bending over to rub his poor dead pinky toe. 

“Sorry, just checking. It’s an obvious one though, so...” Eddie trails off and looks at Buck pointedly. Buck wants to die. 

“Yes, Eddie, I’ve tried that. Didn’t help. Next tip, please.” 

“Counting sheep,” Eddie suggests. He’s sitting cross-legged on the bed in just sweatpants and Buck still wants to die. 

“Oh yeah that’s super fun until my brain can’t stop counting and suddenly it’s 4am and I’ve visualised seven fucking thousand sheep jump over a rickety wooden fence,” Buck snorts. He slumps into the armchair and rubs his eyes aggressively, listening to Eddie’s breathing. The room is (creepily) silent and Buck’s skin is prickling. 

“Visualise moving all the furniture in your room,” Eddie reads off his phone. 

“Great until hyper-fixation kicks in and I get up and actually start moving furniture. Remember three weeks ago when you came over for breakfast and I was passed out on my bed against the opposite wall?” Buck reminds Eddie pointedly. “I need new mental games.” 

“Hmm. Well according to this person on Reddit you shouldn’t think of them as mental games because it’s not meant to be fun,” Eddie snorts. 

“Yeah fuck that person. Going to sleep should be fun and if it helps me to think of mental exercises as games then that’s what I’ll do, random Reddit asshole,” Buck huffs. He’s way more annoyed than he should be about this but Eddie doesn’t say anything, just hums in agreement. Buck appreciates Eddie rolling with his spiralling and not telling him to ‘just sit the fuck down and relax’ like Tommy used to. Buck wants to die a little less now, but not by much. 

“Have you tried counting backwards?” Eddie asks, tilting his head to the left a little. The gel he’d put in his hair in the morning has lost its hold and his hair flops to the side, falling over his forehead. 

“Ah see that one I’ve actually had a little success with.” Buck stands up from the armchair – his pinky toe has miraculously not fallen off and he can, in fact, walk. He sits down opposite Eddie, close enough that their knees are almost touching (because it’s only a double bed, not because Buck just wants an excuse to be close to Eddie, nope). 

“But not so much recently?” 

“I count backwards by threes starting at nine hundred and ninety-nine,” Buck starts, and absolutely does not shift slightly so that his and Eddie’s knees are actually touching. 

“Oddly specific, do explain,” Eddie muses. He still looks sleepy, despite his four-hour nap in the car. Buck wants to hold his stupid hand. 

“Doing it that way hits every triple digit – eight eighty-eight, seven seventy-seven, blah blah blah,” Buck trails off, waving his hand dismissively. “Which is satisfying but is also a pattern that my brain latches on to and after a few nights it’s not engaging enough to keep my attention and I start tuning out the counting and get distracted by other things.” 

“That - I mean I can’t relate, I don’t know what that’s like but it sounds really fucking frustrating. I’m sorry,” Eddie murmurs warmly, placing a calloused hand on Buck’s knee and yep, Buck is going to die tonight. 

--

I've written 5.3k words of this one lol. I've just got so many WIPs/fics I want to start!

[mybworlds]

Chapter 5

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: Javier Peña and his partner can't stand each other, but to take down an old enemy they are forced to work together and pretend to be a complacent married couple.

Series warnings: language , violence, alcohol use, slow burn, angst, mutual pining, smut (18+ MDNI), creampie, oral sex (m and f), fingering, masturbation (m and f), trauma and SA referencing.

Masterlist

Before to start… hey there, how you doing? I need some time to write about this chapter, it was pretty hard for me. If you want to let me know what you think about the story or chapter, I'd appreciate. If you don't like, 'm sorry guys.

I'm not an expert on these spy agencies, so if I got something wrong, don't get angry or offended. 😬 And maybe some aspects of Peña's character may change, if it's necessary. 🔎

Taglist: @love-affair-with-fandoms; @pedr0swh0r3; @angel98624 if you want to be added let me know.

Thanks @saradika for the divider.

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner

You are very nervous, you feel a strange sensation of fear mixed with anxiety invade you and run through your body. You have never done anything like this, pretending to be someone you are not. Or rather, when you did it you weren't completely alone. You knew there was someone nearby, Peña will surely be around, but he won't be able to intervene, he won't be able to do anything. So, you will be alone.

You look at yourself in the mirror and feel the heat invade your cheeks and run down your body, you fix your hair as best you can, you try to add a little more eye shadow and you adjust the black top and red skirt you're wearing. Your shoulders feel stiff with tension, your neck is straight, stiff with concern, you're very nervous and anyone can tell. At this moment you look like anything but an escort.

Peña looks at you with a worried expression, his big dark eyes scrutinizing you carefully as if he wanted to read inside you and almost want to make his own the fear that is devouring every little part of you. The man sits at the foot of the bed bent over with his elbows planted on his thighs and does nothing but watch your every move. In other circumstances you’d have thrown a piece of clothing at him or said something to make him stop looking at you that way, but not now.

You open and close your lips several times and take deep breaths in a still futile attempt to relax. You've even dusted off some relaxation exercises, but it's all useless at the moment.

“I think, it's fine,” you say, your voice barely a whisper and filled with an ever-increasing nervousness. You clench your hands convulsively, swallowing and keeping your head down, “I should be believable,” you add, looking back at yourself in the mirror, noticing how your expression shows anything but sensuality.

“Hey, hey, hey” Javier says to you as he gets up from the bed and reaches you, you look at him through the reflection in the mirror “I'll try to get in too, maybe I can..." you lower your gaze, breathing in and out deeply “look at me.” he asks you “Please, look at me.” You look up and then turn to the man who is looking at you with barely concealed concern. “You're beautiful.” he tells you placing an index finger under your chin so that your eyes meet, reflecting each other's fear “be careful, please. If something happens to you...” the words get stuck in his throat, you watch his Adam's apple go up and down while he lays his eyes on you.

“Javi...” you say, but the truth is that you don't even know what to say. Your thoughts and emotions are like one in contrast with the other, one detached from the other. In the last few hours your relationship seems to have changed, even if you don't even know how or when this change actually happened. The fact is that you can't think of Javier Peña as a thorn in your side, as that hateful colleague with whom you started this mission.

He smiles at you, it's a sweet smile that curves his lips upwards and involves - even if only minimally - his beautiful hazel eyes. He caresses your chin with his fingertip in a gesture of unusual sweetness that smacks of a strange and new complicity that has quickly been created between you, almost as if deep down it had always been there, hidden, but perhaps already hovering among you.

“You’re gonna be fine.” he tries to calm you down without taking his eyes off yours and, if you weren't so worried about what you have to do, maybe you’d have even felt captivated by his sweet and irresistible gaze, maybe you’d have even allowed yourself to give in to some of his possible comments, but not now.

“¡Juro por Dios que si te hacen algo…!” (“I swear to God, if they do anything to you...!”) his tone of voice is a low whisper, almost a promise to you — or perhaps to himself! — that whatever happens, he will step in and come for you.

You don't even know why, but you almost feel for a second that the anxiety and fear towards El Diablo is waning to be replaced by something you don't even know how to define at the moment. Perhaps it’s the solid and reassuring presence of your colleague, his measured but vibrant tone of voice, his eyes so sweet at this moment, that small touch that almost makes you feel anchored to someone you've always openly said you didn't like, but whose absence now seems unacceptable.

The fear of not making it’s becoming so unbearable that you are forced to close your eyes and give in to this vulnerability that you have always kept to yourself and that especially up until today you had kept it hidden from Javier himself.

“Now listen, tesoro, if it’s too much for you. Okay. I’m not kidding you, I swear. Let’s talk to Diáz and let it go.” his tone of voice seems so sincere and understanding that you almost wonder what happened to the man who used to call you frigid and bitch.

Tesoro, he had never used that nickname. At least not with you. And if you hadn't been focused on something else, you’d have even felt flattered to hear that.

Even though you feel awkward about this undercover mission, you don't want all of this to have been for nothing, “No, I can do this,” you say, nodding and trying to smile, but it’s a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

He caresses your chin in a sweet gesture that makes your heart flutter, you find yourself swallowing without being able to take your eyes off his, but without being able to do anything but look at his well-defined face, his beautiful eyes, his angular nose, his well-defined mustache, his plushy pink lips. He's beautiful and it feels like you're only really looking at him now.

Suddenly you wonder when the boundaries between you broke down, bringing you to this unknown degree of intimacy, this silent feeling of well-being between you, almost as if you liked each other from the beginning. When did it begin? When did he save you from the waves of the sea? When did you walk close together on a deserted beach? When did you share a bed? When?

“I better go,” you say as if you want to put a safe distance between you and him again rather than out of any real sense of duty in carrying out this mission.

He nods, slowly moving his fingers away from your chin, but never leaving your eyes. These eyes that used to just irritate you, now seem like the only place you never want to leave.

“What do I look like?” you ask him, still looking at him with a little panic in your eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, stroking your hair in a gesture of unusual intimacy and sweetness. He runs his gaze along your body and you feel like an unknown adrenaline runs through your body. Yet you’ve had his gaze on you on more than one occasion, but you've never felt this way before.

“Maybe, it’s better to take this one off.” he tells you, focusing on a detail, and that’s when you remember that you didn’t take off the wedding ring. That ring that in a certain sense doesn’t bother you like it used to. Even though you know it's a fake wedding ring.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Yeah.” you say, slipping it off your ring finger and going to put it on the nightstand, but Javier surprises you again, making you hesitate even more if that's possible. He opens the palm of his hand as if he wanted to hold that symbol of your mission and of that strange relationship that is being established between you.

“Thank you.” you say simply inhaling and exhaling deeply.

“Oh, wait. Put this on.” he says, passing you a microphone that looks like a simple button. You look at him as if to ask if it's dangerous, but he reassures you by saying “It won’t ring under metal detectors or cause any strange interference, with this on, I’ll hear you.” he says looking you in the eyes with great intensity “I mean, me and the other agents. We’ll intervene.”

You nod, before tucking it into a small pocket in your skirt. You nod as if to say goodbye, the air is becoming decidedly strange, beautiful, but strange.

“You better go now,” he tells you. The words should be a push to finally get the operation underway, but his tone of voice is anything but a push to get you out of your room.

If the moment hadn't been so dangerous and dramatic, you’d have even allowed yourself to concentrate on those small, great, sweet gestures of his towards you, you’d have noticed even more the worried and dramatic expression in his eyes, his tense features, but now you have to come back to yourself.

You simply nod at his statement and then walk out of the room. You don't know what awaits you, you're scared. Every step feels difficult, every breath feels like it's stuck in your throat, and a deep sense of nausea begins to grip the pit of your stomach.

You've practically arrived at the place which is now very crowded, there are young people, adults of all ages and you make your way with difficulty. The rhythmic music hammers your ears almost mirroring the dull beat of your heart gone mad with fear of having put yourself in a situation much bigger than you.

You force yourself not to give in completely because you know that giving in to your fear wouldn't do anyone any good. You started it all and you will finish it. Now it's all in your hands and your decisions.

You walk over to the bar and grab a beer in an attempt to loosen up a bit and appear less stiff than you feel. The sensation of modest acidity and of bitterness invade your mouth and your taste buds.

It's good. You sip it, squinting as the glass begins to finish. Your arms are less stiff than before, they almost feel soft. Your legs are light, almost as if they didn't even touch the ground. You feel like you're made of jelly.

Someone approaches you, when you turn to the one who touched your back, you realize that it’s one of El Diablo's henchmen. You can do nothing but follow the man.

The man moves aside a large dark cloth, making room for you too, who follow him a couple of steps behind. You continue along a corridor lit by green and blue neon lights, go down a long staircase that almost seems to want to swallow you.

The music that used to pierce your ears is now a distant echo that barely echoes down there. For a split second there’s a dull eerie silence, then more music reaches your ears. It's less loud than before, but still loud. Your heart is pounding in your chest and you can't help but wonder what's next.

You are so scared. Even if you don't say it out loud, Javier can see it and feel it. Your eyes are so expressive that they’re enough to let him know what you are feeling right now.

He never thought he’d care so much about you, so much that he’d feel a sensation similar to the horror of losing an important part of himself.

You're fighting fear and he notices, but you're also fighting to avoid being pushed by Javier to give up and have someone else take your place. You don't want to. Javier in a fit of fear for you and great concern, hands you a small microphone so he can hear you, he will come for you. He will certainly warn the others right away, but above all he will go after you. It doesn't matter that it’s a dangerous mission to himself, he's afraid for you. You don't know what you're getting into. He remembers very well what happened to one of his informants, he doesn't want history to repeat itself.

He doesn't know what to do, or rather he knows he can't follow you right away or it would ruin everything and that's exactly what he doesn't want. He knows you wouldn't forgive him, even if it was to save your life.

He immediately contacts Diáz who immediately alerts the CIA department. He hopes with all his heart that you are okay and that your cover holds until they intervene. Peña is impatient as the agents decide how to intervene, studying the access points to the place where El Diablo and you are.

He has an ever-increasing anxiety for you, he doesn't know what you're doing, if you're okay, if that demon is touching you or forcing you to do something against your will. He couldn't stand knowing that that man is touching you with his filthy hands, that he might be kissing you or worse, that he’s forcing you to take drugs just to submit you and bend to his will.

He hears you through the microphone he gave you, you're speaking in a tone that may seem calm, but which he has now learned to recognize as just a facade. You're doing well, but he can't be calm. Just one movement, a look or a word and everything goes haywire.

He paces back and forth, hearing the plans in the meantime to surround the building. It takes time, but you don't have hours. Time is running out.

When he’s thinking of acting alone, the go-ahead comes and he’s there in the front line running.

He doesn't know what you’re doing, if you are well, if you are sick. If you are fighting for your life or if you are simply sitting next to that little man. The truth is, he's terrified. He's terrified that you're there with him and he's not.

He can't hear you anymore, he only hears a rustling sound.

He's been on a lot of operations, he's come face to face with a lot of criminals, sending someone else - someone he cares about - on a mission is different. His biggest worry is arriving too late. He’d never forgive himself.

He’s on the front lines, they move fast with guns drawn. They are all ready for anything. They quickly enter the club full of people, the music is at full blast. They scatter among the dancers, Javier - already knowing where you entered, remembering where he saw you enter the night before - heads towards the dark curtain that hides the entrance to what he imagines is a private room.

He moves the curtain and immediately the same man he had seen the night before appears in front of him. Javier instinctively points the gun at his chest pushing him against a wall to his left and the other man, taken by surprise, raises his hands in sign of surrender.

“Where’s she?” The henchman's lips curl upwards and Javier's stomach tightens painfully causing him to suddenly feel nauseous, “Where.is.she?” he hisses, pressing the gun against him removing the trigger.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” he says chuckling and looking at him mockingly.

“No me mientas, hijo de puta. (Don't bullshit me, you son of bitch.)”

“I knew she was an undercover whore, your slut friend.” Javier is about to lunge at him, but another colleague holds him back just in time before taking the henchman into custody.

Javier is feeling like throwing up, your cover is blown and anything could have happened to you.

“Fuck.” He sighs before taking a deep breath and using a flashlight to light his way down a dark staircase barely lit by green and blue neon lights.

Down there, music echoes, the officers see many rooms in which there are men of all sorts, the drugs still in strips on the tables ready to be inhaled, some of those men have probably escorts on their lap.

“Hands up,” CIA agents shout as they encounter people they know and don’t know.

Javier continues, where are you? Where? Please, where are you?

A sudden blow to his heart comes when he remembers Helena, what she suffered in order to be free. His stomach hurts so much from the tension he feels.

Then a sinking feeling when he finds the microphone he had given you on the ground completely destroyed. Javier increases his pace and the fear of not finding you or finding you in a different state than he left you in, causes him a sharp pain almost as if he were receiving a stab in the stomach and heart.

Please, please, please, make sure you're okay, please!

He opens a lot of doors, moves the drapes used for storage, when the anxiety is taking over, he sees an emergency exit wide open, he runs out and that's when he sees a black SUV in which someone is dragging you away, while you thrash and kick to break free from his grip.

Javi runs as fast as he can, screaming for you to let go, and that's when the person dragging you away turns around and points the gun at him. Javier barely has time to hide behind a car when a projectile explodes and fortunately only hits the asphalt.

“It’s over! Let her go!” he shouts again, moving slightly to the side and making to look towards the two of you.

El Diablo holds you tightly by the neck, alternating between pointing the gun between your temple and Javier.

“I’ll kill her,” he hisses, and when Javier hears the trigger being pulled, he steps out into the open and points the gun at the man.

“It’s over.” he repeats, advancing cautiously towards you “Let her go.”

El Diablo points the gun at Javier and when he’s about to shoot, another shot is heard, paralyzing both you and Peña. The air seems to have become frozen and crystallized because neither you nor he know whether the shot fired hit one or the other.

What you do know is that each kept their eyes on the other, terrified that the other might have been hit and injured, or worse. Then, you realize that the shot was fired in the air by another agent who came up behind your almost-kidnapper.

What happens next is very confusing, you just know that Peña comes closer to you hugging you tightly to him enveloping you completely in his arms and that he feels you trembling as you abandon yourself against him.

His embrace is so strong that it almost seems like he wants to make you part of him. Peña narrows his eyes, almost relaxing against you. You're safe.

“Estás aquí, cariño. Usted está aquí. Estás a salvo, cariño.” (You're here, baby. You're here. You're safe, baby.) His words flow from his heart with such naturalness and passion that your eyes fill with tears.

He feels you relax against him and then wrap your arms around his neck, “Javi,” you murmur with such tenderness that he almost feels his heart explode with the strong emotion, “please, take me away.” you whisper this plea in his ear resting your head against his shoulder.

“I’m holding you, I’m not leaving you,” he says, putting an arm around your waist and holding you close.

In other circumstances perhaps you’d have rejected him with revulsion condemning that gesture as something excessive, but not now, thinks Javier as he takes you away from there seeing lines of cars loading people from that monster's circle. Javier in other circumstances would have thrown some of them in himself, but now you are the priority. His priority.

When you get back to your room, the only thing you can do is rush to the bathroom and lock yourself in. You look in the mirror and see how this undercover mission has reduced you: your makeup is completely smudged, the top you were hiding the microphone in is half open, your skirt is torn in one corner. You rush to the sink and wash yourself frantically as if you wanted to erase everything that was the undercover mission. You open the sink and put your hands in the basin, the water completely wets your hands and you can't move a muscle, you're like paralyzed.

It’s you who insisted on having an active role in this mission, it’s you who proposed yourself and now look at where this obstinacy of yours has led you and how it has reduced you.

You felt like a piece of flesh without a will, as if you were not even a person, but an object in the hands of a madman. All of this makes you feel suddenly useless, as if you don't even have the right to feel everything you're feeling right now.

“If you need me, I’m out here.” You hear Javier’s voice far away, as if he wasn’t even really outside the door.

Your head is spinning and your stomach is in knots. You go back to staring at your reflection in the mirror, as if you couldn’t reconcile how you feel and what you see.

You feel broken, violated, and shattered. Your throat burns as if something has burned and scraped your throat.

It hurts. Everything hurts.

You place a hand on your throat, rivulets of water running down your neck ending up in the crease between your breasts. Your eyes fill with tears at the mere memory and as if in an attempt to escape that memory, you run out of the bathroom and open the door.

Javier is right behind the door and so as you leave you throw yourself, albeit involuntarily, against his chest. His arms immediately close around you and then places a hand behind your neck.

“You're safe now." He whispers softly in your ear, almost cradling you in his arms.

“Javi…” You moan as you let go and burst into tears, clutching his shirt tightly in your fist. You rub your face against his shirt, completely forgetting about your already smudged makeup.

“I am here, pequeño,” he whispers softly, as you sob, holding onto him even tighter. He gently caresses your wet cheek and places a kiss on your head, “Why don’t you change? You’ll take off these clothes, take a hot shower and then lie down for a bit.” he offers you without malice in his voice and you appreciate his attention towards you so much.

“Thanks, but I can't.” You say, squeezing your eyes shut and feeling more tears flying and wetting the cuff of his shirt.

Javi strokes your jawline, then places his thumb where there was a tear, wiping it away. He repeats the same gesture over and over again until you calm down and you can finally look him in the eye.

He doesn't say anything and you don't say anything. You stare at each other as if you're trying to talk with just your eyes. His eyes in this light seem to be almost black and it's as if they want to swallow you, you find yourself swallowing hard but unable to stop staring into his eyes and occasionally looking at his lips that seem so soft.

“Shall we sit down? It’s been a tough night for both of us.” You sniff, then nod and look down.

You and Javier sit on the bed. You are sitting on the tip as if you are going to run away at any moment, “Baby,” he calls making you look up at him again “now, you'll be fine." He caresses your cheek so gently that you almost dive into his arms again. It's not that bad to be close to him, even though you've always felt disgusted by the mere idea of being intimate with him.

“Javi,” you barely murmur his name “I was stupid for thinking I could do this. I’m stupid. Maybe I should turn in my badge, maybe…” you start babbling nonsensically.

“Hey, hey, hey, stop! Don't even say that.” he says, taking your face in his hands and caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “You’re shocked and that’s normal. It’ll get better in the next few days.” His lips curve slightly upwards “I’ll be by your side.” He tells you “If you want.” He quickly adds. “But in any case, never think that you are stupid, understand? You are not at all. You are one of the best agents I’ve ever met. Confident, determined and stubborn.” he says again smiling at you and making you smile weakly “We make a great team, you and me.”

You feel so vulnerable right now that his words almost feel like a punch in the stomach and don't make you feel better, they just make your eyes fill with tears. You were really afraid that they’d rape and kill you down there.

Javier lets his gaze wander along your body, but he does it neither with lust nor with mockery, he has a strange light in his eyes almost as if he felt pain for you and with you.

Silence falls between you, but it's a silence that feels like a hug and a sweet caress, it's not unpleasant despite the situation.

“Why don’t you go wear something more comfortable?” he suggests, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand.

You nod, looking at the man next to you with a look full of gratitude, you would never have expected such care from him. You've always seen him as a tombeur de femme, as someone who will do anything to get what he wants. Tonight he could have been the protagonist of yet another arrest and slammed into another crime and instead he chose to be with you and not leave you alone in a moment like this.

“Thank you.” you say in a trembling breath.

“Don’t even say that,” he says, smiling at you. “Do you want a pair of sweatpants? I’ll get them for you,” he offers kindly, and your heart fills with a strange, great tenderness towards him.

“No, thanks. I do it myself.” you say, slowly standing up and approaching the closet where you keep your suitcase. You choose a pair of sweatpants and a short-sleeved t-shirt, “I'm going.” you say, pointing to the bathroom door, he simply nods.

As you close the door, you see him take off his jacket and remove the belt in which he has the gun. Only when you get back into the bathroom do you realize that you forgot the faucet on and that the water is still running. You turn it off. You take a deep breath and change.

When you come out of the bathroom, you find Javier lying down. He’s wearing a white t-shirt and long pants. He looks up at you, at your face. You notice how tired his face is, he's right, it's been a long and difficult evening for both of you.

“Light on or off?” he asks as soon as you lie down next to him.

“Javi, would you hug me?” you ask, turning your torso towards him.

He smiles sweetly at you and it's the first time that you reciprocate with tenderness too, he doesn't answer, but hugs you directly leaving the light on, while you close your eyes and you abandon yourself to that sweet, warm embrace.

It's not bad at all. His sweet and strong embrace manages to take away — even if only in part — all the fear accumulated in the last few hours, now all you need is to relax and try to surrender to that sweetness. Peña envelops you completely, his warm breath tickles your hair and neck and you find yourself smiling thinking about how much you tried to push him away and how much he himself tried to push you away and yet now you're here huddled together thinking that you're not so bad after all.

[cvntlets]

Hello 🖐 dear Friends

I am Amal from Gaza. A mother of 4 girls ( Judy 8y in 2nd grade at school, Mariam 7y grade 1 in school, Rasha 5y in KG1 And Misk 3y).

We are now live in a tent. We lost our home which we had recently rebuilt before the war, it cost us more than 20k$ to rebuild. It has been completely destroyed. We are now homeless and my husband also lost his job due to the war. With this bad situation, not enough food, and no clean water my daughters got sick every single week. Also, my eldest daughter suffers from permanent amoebiasis in the intestines, there is no treatment available.

I am asking you , my friends , to keep supporting my family who is full of hope and wishes that things could be better with you.

Your donation eases the painful moments of the war 🤍 and relieves the tragic 😥 sufferings of the people of Gaza who have been going through the saddest and most painful😭😭 experiences they have ever had. Life in here is incredibly getting harder and harder either on the level of safety and peace or on the level of livelihood sources. Every single thing has become a burden and a load over our shoulders. You may wonder how possible a person in Gaza can't afford their needs and necessities. The answer is " the vast majority of the people in Gaza lost every single possession and 🇵🇸 belonging on the first days of the war and became displaced and homeless in the streets of the alleged safe neighborhoods in the Middle  or the south of Gaza, adding the fact that all breadwinners have become jobless and with no source of living income amidst the rising prices of any item necessary for staying safe and alive. It is unbelievably😭 harsh and tough.

https://gofund.me/6a9d9abd

Hi everyone again, please don't forget to donate !! This person and their family could very well have their lives rebuilt buy you donating, you could be saving someones life right now, please please donate guys, i can never stress this enough in these posts, if you can't reblog, repost on social media, anywhere you possibly can

[fyeahlonnyeagleton]

BVB7 Theorycrafting: Saint Sebastian

What's BVB7 going to be about? Hard to say (beyond that there will likely be some relation to fallen angels/demons, based on something Andy said on Patreon - more on that later). However, I think the story of Saint Sebastian may have something to do with it.

1 - The Saint

Back in June, Andy got this tattoo on his leg. While the horns and wings have been added, giving it more of a demonic look, the basis for the tattoo is actually this statue of Saint Sebastian (which to my knowledge resides in a museum in León, Mexico):

(It's worth noting that Saint Sebastian is widely considered a gay icon, but that's not what I'm getting at here. Still interesting though.)

On its own, it's easy to just assume that it's nothing more than a cool tattoo - but this is Andy Biersack we're talking about here, he is insane and methodical with these things. And he likes using Catholic imagery.

Saint Sebastian is the patron saint of, among other things, soldiers and those who wish to die a saintly death. The most famous depictions of him (including in the statue above) show the incident of him being tied to a tree and shot full of arrows during a Roman persecution of Christians - but, importantly, he *did not die*.

Tradition has it that he miraculously survived what should've been certain death, and he was nursed back to health..... only to die shortly afterwards, bludgeoned to death after speaking out and directly criticising the emperor who had sentenced him to death.

Miraculous survival and severe consequences for speaking up against those who wronged you. I sure wonder why Andy's so interested in the guy.

---

2 - Saviour II and the "Exemplary Sufferer"

You know how I said the link between Saint Sebastian and the gay community didn't really have anything to do with this? Well that's still basically true, but I would like to draw your attention to this passage from an article detailing that relationship:

You won't know about this if you aren't subscribed to the TAS Patreon, but the original music video concept for Saviour II was quite a bit more complex than the final product (damn you, Sumerian). Out of respect for the fact it's paid content I won't be posting photos directly from there here, but here's the Sparknotes summary:

- The video was supposed to have Andy's body falling apart more and more over the course of the song, until by the end he's stripped practically bare and covered in blood.

- The sketch he posted has him wearing nothing but a cloth that, funnily enough, looks pretty similar to the loincloth Saint Sebastian is often depicted wearing.

- He uses like 5 different brushes to draw the blood/bruising, but notably there are circular splotches of blood on his torso that correspond basically perfectly to the positioning of the arrows on that statue.

- You can actually see these in the music video itself, he's wearing rather thick chain bracelets on both wrists. Saint Sebastian is pretty much invariably depicted tied to a post/tree by his arms, usually his wrists.

Additionally, certain lyrics of Saviour II seem to play into the idea of the "exemplary sufferer" described in the article excerpt - accepting the pain given to him quietly, not allowing it to affect his art:

Given all of this, I suspect that Andy had hoped to tackle this theme in that music video, but due to constraints placed on the band (DAMN YOU SUMERIAN) was unable to do so. However, as we've seen with Bleeders, the band clearly have more budget and freedom under their new label.... and given Andy got that tattoo quite a while after Saviour II's release, he clearly hasn't stopped thinking about it yet.

[seb-reads31]

Hello! I have a juicy one shot request for you today, full of angst!

It's angel dust x male reader and goes as follows:

Reader and angel were both part of the mafia and secretly became a couple for quite some time but reader died in a shootout a couple of years before angel's death and both angel and reader assume that the other got sent to heaven. Many years pass and by pure chance they meet at a bar but after so many decades in hell they don't really recognize eachother (that and the fact that angel is a spider demon dude helps with him not being very similar to his living self), later that night reader is in bed and he realizes "HOLY SHIT WAS THAT ANTHONY" and immediately runs to the hotel to find angel who also just realized that he met reader just a few hours later. They reunite and cry tears of joy after too many years spent alone in hell

Hope this wasn't too long of a request lol, let me know if i broke any of your rules so that next time i'll be more careful, with that said have a nice day!

Cautions - Drug use, shooting, death, cursing, sad angel 😭, mention of angel oding from drugs, MALE READER - fem DNI this is for the gay guys, crying, both sad and happy, reader being a bartender down in hell, Valentino, SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 6, Angel arguing with Valentino

Type - oneshot

Genre - angst to fluff <33

Comments - Nahh, you're good man. No rules broken yet 🤧 BUT OMG I LOVE THIS it's so cute but it's gonna make me wanna cry 😭 (testing out banners, thoughts? Made by me btw in PicsArt) and omg I'm so sorry for being dead 😔 AND, I'm basing this partially on episode 6 where Charlie goes to Heaven. I low-key hate the ending, it feels rushed but I'll probably end up rewriting it later (I'm gonna start adding word counts ISTG)

Till death do us part

Your whole body felt so hot, your heart thumping so loudly in your chest it almost gave you away. You can barely breath, not wanting to give not only your position away, but Anthony's.

It all went wrong.

The information given to both of you was fake, you were set up. They were gonna kill you and him if you were caught. You only had 3 bullets left in your gun, and there were about 5 guys looking for you and Anthony. Shit...

The two of you were hiding behind large crates, trying to come up with a plan and quick. There was an exit to your right, but it would force you to pass by an open area where the guys hunting you down would see you. Trying to make a run for it wouldn't go well, they would just shoot you down. Trying to lay low would just lead to the inevitable, them catching and beating the both of you half to death. But maybe..

"Damnit!" Anthony softly muttered, breaking your line of thought. "What're we gonna do?" All you could do was look at him, with the softest look in your eyes as you told him the only plan you could think of, "We need a distraction."

He was.. confused for a moment, but he quickly caught on as he saw you prepping yourself to run out the opposite way the exit was, but he stopped you by grabbing your shoulder. "I- no! I'm not about to let you get yourself killed just to save my ass!" The trembling hand on your shoulder was an easy sign that he didn't want to leave you here by yourself.

"Anthony, we don't have another choice.." You turned around and placed a hand on his cheek as you continued, "we're sittin' ducks here, and I refuse to let you get caught by these fuckers." There was a determined look in your eyes, but also a softness deep down that showed how much you cared for the mafia boss's son.

"Oh, and I'm just supposed to let you die?" Anthony was on the verge of tears, because he knew you were right, but he didn't want you to get caught by his family's rivals just to get beaten or worse.

"I can escape, you just have to believe in me. Can you do that for me, my angel?" You could feel tears prick your eyes as well, but you forced them back with a soft smile as you leaned your forehead against Anthony's, but all he could do was worry and think the worst. But he nodded, giving you one final passionate kiss before he let you go.

"Don't die on me, got that?" Anthony looked stern, but the tears in his eyes told a different story. As you nodded, you could hear the footsteps and jeers of your rivals get closer, this was your only chance to get Anthony, your angel, out of this mess.

You jumped out, letting your last bullets fly strategically as Anthony ran under the radar, through the door, and into the outside as quickly as he could. Every shot he heard made his heart sink, but he still held out hope. You promised him after all.

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

Angel Dust sat straight up in his bed, panting softly as he woke up from that nightmare. The day he lost his everything.

He didn't notice until fat nuggets licked his face to try and comfort him, but tears were running down his cheeks from the painful memories. He remembered that day like it was just yesterday, even after so many years had passed.

Angel sat up, wiping away any left over tears to start getting ready for the day.

After he finished his morning routine, he slowly walked down the stairs to the main lobby of the Hazbin Hotel and was greeted by Charlie's smiling face and overly excited personality.

Her voice was too loud, considering he was still hungover from the night before, but had a new outlook on life and it was thanks to Husk. "Mornin' Char, we doin' anything today?" Angel yawned, stretching both pairs of arms and arching his back slightly.

"Yep! 'Cause I've got some big news for everyone! Speaking of which, could you sit in the main room until I get everyone? I still need to find Alastor and Husker before I announce it." She looked like she could barely contain her excitement as she ran off before Angel Dust could answer. But he shrugged, sitting down on the plush sofa and chose to scroll through voxtigram to pass the time.

About 10 minutes later, Charlie had arrived with Husker in tow, Alastor appearing from the shadows not too long after. "Alright everyone! Today, I would like to introduce you to.." Charlie paused, to build suspense, until she pulled out a strange looking man from somewhere. You. "Our newest patron!"

You waved, albeit awkwardly at the strange group of sinners. You weren't new to hell, far from it, but there were only a few you really recognized. Husker, your bartending buddy from a few years ago that you met at a bar you worked at. And Alastor, him being the radio demon and all.. But everyone else, as far as you knew, you had no history with.

Before you could try leaving the room to escape the awkwardness, Charlie nudged you slightly. "Go on, introduce yourself!" She was so sweet it was hard to say no, if we're also not counting that Vaggie was staring at you with a small glare.

"Uh, hi?" Is how you started, but continued even after you heard Alastor chuckle. And while Angel couldn't help but feel a little.. off when you said your name, it being very familiar, but he shrugged and put on his classic porn star persona as he introduced himself to you.

"Nice to meetcha~ I'm Angel Dust, but you can call me yours," he winked at you as others groaned but you couldn't help but feel as if he was familiar as well.. it was probably nothing though. You did have a dream about how you died last night, so it's just a weird coincidence.

As everyone else introduced themselves, they began to leave, but the ones that stayed were Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Husk sort of as he went back to his bar, and Angel Dust following him. You stay in the main part of the lobby as you converse with Alastor and Charlie, them telling you a bit more about the hotel.

Over at the bar, Angel couldn't help but stare at you, barely even touching his drink. "Alright, why are you staring at the new guy?" As much as Husk prided himself on being able to read people, Angel was throwing him off with how quiet he was being, barely registering that Husk spoke to begin with.

"Huh? Oh, he just.. reminds me of someone." He barely looked at Husk when he answered, keeping his puzzled gaze on you. "From when you were alive?" Husk was curious, and he may or may not've noticed how you looked at Angel Dust when you were introduced to the staff and patrons.

Angel nodded, but let out a small sigh. "Meh, I'll think of who he reminds me of eventually." He chugged the last of his drink before standing up, presumably to go to his room. As he began walking, you couldn't help but watch him, wondering why his voice and demeanor was so familiar.

Alastor noticed, and him being him, decided to poke a little fun at you. "Oh my, are we falling for another patron my good fellow?" His static voice made you jump slightly, as he was just sitting quietly as Charlie rambled on before. But you were quick to shake your head, denying the radio demon's claim.

"No, no. He's just.. familiar is all. Probably just deja vu. Besides, my partner when I was alive might be in heaven, he's the only one for me." There was a small smile on your face as you thought of your sweet Anthony, completely unaware of what the future held.

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

A few days had passed, and you and Angel Dust had become pretty good friends. While he would flirt with you on occasion, it was all in good fun.

Everyone in the hotel could see how close the two of you had gotten in the short time you've been here, it would've been impossible to notice! How you two just, clicked. No one could understand why, but you balanced each other nicely.

Angel was already falling into a routine with you, unconsciously of course, but there was always a lingering guilt in the back of his mind as he thought of his lover when he was alive. He was redeeming himself for him after all. No matter what he did over those days, he couldn't help but develop feelings for you.

You felt the same way as Angel, unknowingly. You loved Anthony with all your heart, and just knew he was up in heaven waiting for you. But Angel.. well, he was not only drop dead gorgeous, but he showed his real self with you. It was hard to not fall for Angel's charismatic nature, and it reminded you of Anthony's personality.. odd, but not uncommon. Sometimes people have the same humor, way of talking, and favorite drink as others that they never even knew. Right?

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

It's been a week now, and you and the gang are at the club! Paid by Charlie while she was up in heaven of course.

The night was great! You all were enjoying yourselves with some shots, and watching poor Sir Pentious fail to woo Cherrie Bomb several times.

During the night, you and Angel being the most sober were trying to keep Nifty under wraps as she continuously causes chaos. First she starts raking some loan shark's shots into a garbage bag, then she finds the cleaning closet and tries to steal the chemicals hiding in there, then she's left with Husk who is forced to baby sit her.

And now, Angel and Cherri were getting into a small disagreement, along with Husker.

"Y'know, we can do this fucking shit every fuckin' night!" Cherri yelled over the music in the club. It's clear that Angel was done, Husker included and Niffty was drunk.

But even with Angel's sour expression, she continued. "You don't have to spend all of your off hours 'working on yourself' you little bitch."

Husky was quick to shut that down though. He knows the issue, and he expressed that. "The hotel isn't a problem in his life, it's-" he paused, not quite finding the word as Angel looked away, but quickly saw a man that he truly hated. Before Husk could say something, the spider sinner spoke with a grave tone. "Valentino." "Exactly!" Husker finally continued, unaware of who Angel saw, and only you put the pieces together, but didn't want to interrupt what was happening. Not until you needed to though.

"So why don't you-" Husk continued, trying to give Cherri a piece of his mind before Angel stopped him again. "No, Valentino," and he pointed to a large crowd, the moth overlord in the center of it with two others in his arms.

Angel was clearly disturbed, seeing his boss at the club when he's supposed to be relaxing. "Let's get the fuck out of here- come on." He began walking and you followed suit, wanting to make sure Angel wasn't alone. Husker and Cherri can handle themselves after all. But.. "Where's Niffty?"

The question startled Husker, who was holding the bug just moments ago, but you managed to catch a glimpse of her.. going towards Valentino, muttering the word 'bad boy' along the way. "Uhh, Angel?" You quickly pointed out where she went, and Angel's eyes widened even further.

Angel immediately went after her, pushing through the crowd as best as he could, you following right after him. You've heard a story or two from Angel himself about how awful the overlord was, and you refused to let him get his hands on the spider you've gotten so close to.

He was angry, not his usual charming self, pushing and cursing at people with a quieter voice trying to get to Niffty. When he did catch her, it stopped him right Infront of Valentino himself, the man not sparing a second to greet Angel Dust.

"Holy shit, Angel Dust? What are you doing here baby?~" he cooed, surprised to see his star at the club as well. "You didn't get enough dick today?" He made a suggestive gesture, clearly teasing Angel even though he knew how hard he worked him earlier.

"Funny." Angel said in a monotone voice, nowhere near amused with the joke or with Valentino. You could tell that he just wanted to take Niffty and get back to the hotel. But Valentino wasn't about to let that happen, not yet. "Who's this chiquita?" Gesturing at Niffty, who was clearly twitching at the thought of getting closer to the 'bad boy.'

"You bringing me fresh meat?" The implication was disgusting, and you almost spoke up when Niffty lunged a bit at Valentino, trying to bite him.

He made another joke, something about a kink, but Angel was clearly tired and just wanted to sleep. "Fuck off Val." He muttered turning to leave but Val was not happy. "Excuse me?"

You expected Angel to just walk, but he doubled down. Which was kind of hot. "I said fuck off!"

"I may have to put up with your bullshit, but you ain't fucking with any of my friends." He was stern, but setting a very clear boundary. It reminded you so much of.. wait, Anthony?

"You forget who you're talking to?" Valentino was fuming now, not used to Angel fighting back. He quickly stood up, using the smoke of his cigarette to make a chain on one of Angel Dust's wrist, pulling him close. "I own you bitch."

Angel looked scared again, and you stepped closer, ready to throw hands, and Valentino noticed but didn't back down. "Yeah, you do. In the studio, and you can do anything you want to me there, just like our deal says."

You were proud of him right now, but also sad. This is your Anthony. The man you were trying to get redeemed for. He was down here in hell, where he didn't belong. "But out here, I get to do what I want. So once again, fuck off." You saw Valentino raise his hand, going to slap him, and you moved quickly, but not quick enough. "Angel!" You called out, seeing Niffty fling out of his arms and Angel bleeding slightly from the harsh hit.

You wanted to rip Valentino limb from limb, but that wouldn't make it any better for Angel. He needed you, and you needed to make sure that he was okay.

Instead of pummeling Valentino, you went to Angel, pulling him into your arms as you checked his face, just like you did when you both were alive. "Enjoy the rest of your night, bitch, because I'm going to enjoy making you pay for it tomorrow." Both you and Angel glared at the moth demon, and you finally had it.

"You may own Angel now, but I swear that I'll make you pay in the future. Watch your back you bald headed fuck."

You gently lifted Angel up to his feet, holding him close as you hear Cherri mutter 'dickhead' behind you, also worried for Angel. "Fuck it, it was worth it." He muttered, leaning into you and wiping the blood from his face away. "You did good kid," Husk said, patting him on the shoulder as you went to Cherri's table. But not before Niffty ripped some of Valentino's neck fluff, making him scream girlishly.

Cherri split off from your group, with Sir Pentious finally returning, and you all went back to the hotel. It had been a long night after all, and you were all laughing along the way.

But when you finally reached the hotel, Husk Niffty and Sir Pentious went to turn in, Angel too but you stopped him. "Hey.. can we talk for a sec?"

Angel thought he had an idea of what you wanted to talk about, so he stayed. "I'm fine, really. You know I'm gonna bounce back, no matter what Val does to me." And while that has been in the back of your mind, you shook your head. "Thanks for the comfort, but that's not it. Angel.. what's your real name?"

If you were right, it would not only fill you with joy, but you'd be so upset. Anthony didn't deserve to be in hell, he was the sweetest person you knew, and was meant to be in heaven. But you held two of his hands nonetheless, giving him both a nervous but hopeful expression.

And Angel.. he was lost, he couldn't tell why you wanted to know his real name, but he also wanted to tell you. "It's.. That's uhm, kinda private babes, why do you wanna know?" He tried laughing it off, even thought about making a weird joke but he could tell that this wasn't the time. "I.. I think we knew each other when we were alive."

You gave his hands a gently squeeze, and unconsciously threaded your fingers with his. "Please.. I just need to know if you're really him." Even though you were desperate, you would never force Angel Dust to tell you. But it didn't hurt to try.

Angel was conflicted. Not just because you were familiar, but he didn't want to be heartbroken if he got his hopes up. He wanted you to be his lover from when he was alive, but he also didn't. You were supposed to be in heaven, and he's supposed to be trying to redeem himself to be with you again. You sacrificed yourself to save him after all, those bastards in heaven would be lucky to have you.

"Anthony." Angel was taking a leap of faith, watching you carefully.

Your eyes welled up with tears, and you took one of your hands to place it onto his fuzzy cheek, stroking it gently with your thumb. Then suddenly, you pulled the taller spider into an embrace, fully letting your tears flow down your cheeks.

No words needed to be spoken. All the two of you needed was to be in each other's arms, finally reunited after so many years of believing the other was in heaven. You both sobbed, holding the other tightly as if he'd disappear. And from this moment onwards, you swore silently to protect your angel from anything. No matter the cost.

<3