#i wish they posted the photos elsewhere ;;

[copia]

i'm going on exam season lockdown as of today, which means no more gifs/edits/anything else because i spend way too much time on them for an engineering student in the trenches lmao. posting this not because i think anybody will notice or care, but so i can hold myself accountable and get embarrassed if i break the pledge. see you on june 3rd for a ghovie creativity extravaganza

edit: besides the ghovie trailer 😭 i cant restrain myself from that one

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Away We Go {1}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Autumn has been introduced to the world but there’s something more special for a first appearance: Monaco GP Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, fluff WC: 3.7k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry || One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight || Nine NAV: Away We Go || One || Two

The white noise in the nursery threatened to put you to sleep too but there were still dozens of messages to get through. There had been a constant stream of well wishes to your inbox since the announcement to the world but one had been left on read for three days now and a little rage built each time you reread it.

It didn’t take long for new ‘exclusive’ information to pop up in the gossip pages, along with the photo you had taken and sent to Jos. It wasn’t a surprise at all, but it still hurt to read what he had said. Trusted sources close to Y/N say she is being monitored for Post Natal Depression and Psychosis, as it is no secret she has had trouble with mental health in the past.

“You are lucky, my love,” you whispered to your daughter who slept soundly in your arms. “Your fathers love you so much.”

You carefully stood up from the rocking chair beside her cot but the moment you started to lower her to the mattress she began to stir.

“Already a little arm princess, aren’t you?” you chuckled, settling back into the chair to start rocking again.

You didn’t mind getting these rare moments alone with her, even if you were exhausted from waking up to breastfeed her all through the night. As soon as Charles and Lando finished their Zoom Meetings with their teams they would be stealing her away for their own snuggles. It was safe to say everyone was smitten with her. And that wasn’t an exaggeration. The front door barely closed before another visitor came, and Max had taken up permanent residence on the couch when he wasn’t needed elsewhere.

“Is she sleeping?” P whispered loudly as she stuck her head in the door.

“She is, but you can come in.”

Max trailed in after her having let himself in the apartment with his spare key. Your mother was out grocery shopping again so she could do more baking for the visitors of the day. You had told her she didn’t need to but she was enjoying the company and feeding a small army.

“Have you eaten?” Max asked as he knelt down beside P who gently stroked the blanket Autumn was swaddled in.

“You’re as bad as my mother.”

“I’m just checking. Kel said everyone comes to see the baby but no one asks how the mum is doing. I want to make sure my sister is okay too.”

“Now you’ve done it,” you croaked as you started to cry. “I’m over these damn hormones. I was fine until you arrived.”

Max laughed and rocked side to side. “You’ll get over it. Should we go to the living room or do you like sitting in the dark?”

You accepted his hand and let him pull you to your feet since he had long ago mastered the art of carrying a baby one-handed. “You’re going to have your hands full when Vicki drops.”

“I have two arms. Unless you're planning on having another one right away?”

“Max, I love you, but I will punch you if you ask that again. I am still having to sit on ice pads because no one warned me about the goddamn haemorrhoids-”

“Okay, okay, fuck, stop!” he begged with a disgusted look on his screwed up face. 

Satisfied he wouldn’t make the same mistake again, you went to the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of water and a juice box for Penelope. 

“So Toto still hasn’t confirmed anyone for Lewis’ seat next year,” you said, passing him one bottle before taking a seat with P. 

“You’ve been talking to him?”

“And others,” you admitted. A few more of the Team Principals had sent their congratulations and the ones with empty seats for 2025 expressed an interest, asking what your plans were. “As soon as my six week check up gets signed off Kristian is going to become my worst nightmare again.”

“Do your boyfriends know that’s your plan?”

You shrugged. It had been spoken about before Autumn was born but they all thought having her in your arms would change your mind about returning to racing. None of the other parents on the grid gave up their careers to grow their families, and while there were still empty seats in the teams you were going to shoot your shot until every last one was taken. 

“Never let them know your next move,” you joked before sobering up and sighing. “Working mums are normal in every other business. Plus, I’m only talking about sim racing this year and if I can impress someone with the data then we can go from there.”

Max nodded along as his eyes traced over Autumn’s features, finding Charles’ dimples when her lips pursed with a soft whimper in her sleep. Penelope had finished her drink and turned all her attention to your daughter, giggling whenever Autumn sucked on her own lip.

“Can I have a baby sister?” she asked Max with bright, hopeful eyes.

“Maybe one day, P. You would make a great big sister.” She grinned at the compliment and snuggled closer until she was half on Max’s lap and holding Autumn too.

Monaco GP

“Ma fifille, tellement belle,” Charles gushed as Lando stepped out of the nursery with Autumn in his arms. She smelt sweet from the baby oil that hydrated her skin and fresh since Lando had changed her diaper before finding the prettiest dress in her closet for her first paddock entrance.

“I’m surprised he didn’t try to sneak her into McLaren gear,” you commented as you packed the baby bag with extra supplies for the day. Gone were the days of arriving at the paddock with just your phone, now there were a million things to remember since no one wanted to try to return home with the insane traffic that came with the road closures for the Monaco race.

“I hid them all,” Charles confessed with a sly smile before stealing a kiss from Lando’s pouting lips. “If she can’t wear Ferrari then she definitely isn’t wearing McLaren, mon cher.”

“One day when you are at Maranello…” Lando warned with a wink.

“You can finish this squabble later, we have a whole camera crew waiting outside.” The tone wasn’t quite as light as you hoped and it drew the attention of both of them straight to you. The joking smiles fell and Lando lay Autumn in her stroller and clipped in the buckles with a frown. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine.”

“You only gave birth four weeks ago, love, it’s okay if you’re not ready to go to the track yet.”

“We wouldn’t be upset if you watched from here,” Charles added.

“It’s Monaco and I am fine, just a little nervous.” Your blasé shrug didn’t fool either of them.

“Of what?”

Charles took over rocking the stroller back and forth so Lando could pull you into his arms. The warmth and security of his embrace was always enough to spill whatever was on your mind.

“The crowd, the cameras, your fans - take your pick.” You looked down at your clothes. They weren’t the designer dresses the other women would wear to the paddock but the maternity jeans and breastfeeding friendly shirt were tidy enough. You couldn’t help noticing the pouch where your belly sagged like a deflated balloon.

“Hey,” Lando murmured, catching your chin with his finger and guiding your head back up to face him. “Do we need to remind you how beautiful we think you are? I don’t mind being late. Charles?”

“I am more than happy to take a penalty.”

You chuckled at the enthusiasm but shook your head. “I would love nothing more than to drag you both back to the bedroom but save it for the six week sign off, you horny devils.”

“We can still show you how sexy we find you without fucking you,” Lando whispered in your ear and Charles’ eyes darkened at the little catch in your breathing.

“Don’t tempt me, but there’s still the problem of the camera crew outside and you’d be on your own explaining to them why we were late.”

“Mon amour, that is the man who asked Stroll if he could wank after breaking his wrists. Would you really trust him with that task?”

“I mean…I would find it funny. Zak might blow a gasket though,” you admitted with a grin. Feeling a bit more at ease after a laugh, you stepped out of Lando’s arms and took a steadying breath. “I’m going to grab a hoodie and we can go.”

Neither commented as you hid your body in an oversized Quadrant hoodie despite the summer heat but you barely made it halfway down the street before you asked Charles if you could push the stroller. There were too many people and too many screams for autographs that your heart started to beat erratically and your breath burned in your lungs.

“Are you okay?” Charles asked, ignoring the people beyond the security team that surrounded your group.

“Let her push, Charles,” Lando urged as he saw a sight he was familiar with in the mirror. It was rare for him in recent years now that he had you and Charles but he could remember the feeling of being out of control and the panic that came with it.

You grabbed the handlebar of the stroller and held on with a death grip in case someone broke through the security guards and knocked into it. Your knuckles changed colour from how tight you handled it and your legs pumped faster with the urge to get to the track and inside the walls of a team hospitality.

From the corner of your eye a shadow slipped through the bodies and your elbow flew out as your mind went straight to the worst case scenario. Was it an overzealous fan wanting a picture or a fanatic wanting to hurt your family?

“Ow, zusje, what the fuck?” Max asked as he rubbed at his ribs.

“Jesus Christ, Max, what are you doing? Don’t jump out at me like that.”

“She’s a little on edge right now,” Charles said quietly, acutely aware of all the cameras pointed their way.

“I can see that. Is it the crowd? Do you want me to call in reinforcements?”

Charles shook his head and walked quicker to catch back up to you. “We would probably be there by the time anyone came.”

Lactic acid burned your calves and reminded you just how hard you were going to have to work to get back to your pre-baby fitness but it felt good too. It brought you back to yourself in a way you had forgotten since becoming a mother and the endorphins from the exercise began to relax your body and mind.

Your pace began to slow and Lando smiled proudly like you had won a world championship. “Now can I hold your hand, love?”

You shifted your hold to the centre of the handlebar so you could still navigate the stroller and placed your hand in his. “Thank you,” you murmured as he kissed your knuckles.

“I would tell you not to worry but I don’t think it will make a difference,” he replied between waving to his fans.

“Aren’t you worried? There’s so many things that could go wrong.”

Lando stopped and turned with a serious look on his face that was only softened by the untamed curl that fell over his brow. “Of course I’m worried too, babe, this is our family and Autumn is the most precious part of it. But, I have to trust that we have done enough to protect her and you and Charles,” he said with a wave towards the security guards. “Do you remember how nervous you were before your first race? You could barely keep your food down and Pierre thought you were actually going to pass out during the Anthem.”

You rolled your eyes but a small smile leaked through. “Don’t remind me.”

“I would have caught you.”

“You were six inches shorter than me.”

Lando stood straighter and looked down at you. “That’s beside the point, I’ve more than made up for it now.”

“Yes, you have,” you said with a wink. “Much more than six inches.”

Charles interrupted the appreciative gaze you dragged over your boyfriend’s body. “Will you two please behave?”

A devilish smirk grew on Lando’s face. “Never, but I will go and sign some autographs before I get in more trouble.”

“Is it me or is he even more cocky?”

“Winning does that to a guy.”

Charles scoffed and curled an arm around your waist. “I will have to remind him what second place feels like, it’s my turn to win Monaco.”

Max laughed, reminding you that he was still there as you approached the paddock gates. “Half the grid thinks the same thing.”

“Well they have a chance with you starting P2,” you teased your brother before grinning at Charles who took pole position. “Take that chequered flag.”

You scanned your ID and the pass for Autumn too as everyone else did and clustered together on the other side again.

“Where are you going to be watching from?” Max asked as you approached his hospitality first.

“Homeboys box, but Toto wants a word so I’ll take bub there first.”

Max looked like he wanted to say something but his name was called out from his team waiting by the dark blue entrance. Instead he stepped forward and kissed your cheek before kissing Autumn’s and tickling her toes. “Tot zeins, mooi meisje.”

“She’s going to speak Dutch before me at this rate,” you complained as he walked away, still not knowing what he said to her.

“Learn quicker then.”

You threw him the middle finger that made him laugh before he disappeared and then it was your turn to say goodbye. Mercedes was the next garage followed by Ferrari then McLaren.

“We will see you before the race,” you promised as you unbuckled Autumn from her stroller and held her to your chest. The garages were tight enough as it was without trying to fit the pram inside too. “Say bye-bye daddy,” you said with a wave of Autumn’s little hand as she woke from her nap. “Love you.”

Charles and Lando both kissed her cheeks and said their goodbye before you received your own chaste kiss on the lips. “Call us if you need anything, I will keep my phone with me,” Charles promised before stepping away.

“Same, and these guys are going with you too,” Lando said with a nod to the security shadowing your sides. Your entourage joined you in Mercedes but thankfully took a wider perimeter since there was a fairly strict policy in who could enter the garages. Toto didn’t seem to mind the additions since you came bearing a pretty great gift.

“You are a beautiful time waster,” he said sweetly as he cradled Autumn to his chest. “I have work to do, little lady, yes, I do, but I’m not ready to hand you over, no, I am not.”

“I get the feeling that Jack will be getting a sibling soon enough,” you said to Lewis who swung back and forth on his chair with his headphones half on his head.

“I don’t think it’s Toto that needs convincing,” he said with a laugh. “It’s not his career that goes on hold, you know that.”

“I never would have said it before, but she’s worth it,” you admitted. “Still not sold on doing it again though, got one more championship to win.”

“I know that feeling,” he said wistfully. “Charles had better bring her to Maranello too.”

“I don’t think much work would get done if she was there,” you pointed out. “And like you said, you have a championship to win.”

Autumn suddenly decided that she was starving and started to cry as she nuzzled into Toto’s shirt and you laughed as you got up to retrieve her. “Sorry, bub, there’s no milk in those titties,” you teased as you picked her up. “Is there somewhere I can feed her?”

Toto looked around and shrugged. “Wherever you’re comfortable. There’s rooms down the hall if you want.”

“I’ve learned it’s not about my own comfort.”

“If anyone’s got a problem they are free to leave,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear and return to their work.

You took your seat again beside Lewis and unzipped the discrete opening on your shirt before unclipping the small window on your bra.

“Come on, man, she’s just trying to feed her baby. Get those cameras out of here,” Lewis said as he blocked the lens and started to herd the Netflix crew back out of the garage.

It had taken a week of trial and error before mastering the art of latching but now you had a routine and Autumn quickly fell back to sleep despite trying to keep her awake. Lando had joked he would sleep better if that was his routine too, at least you thought he was joking.

“Can you hold her please?”

Lewis didn’t need to be asked, he had been patiently waiting his turn since you walked in the garage. He even knew to draw soothing circles and pat her back to bring up her wind. “There’s those famous Uncle skills you bragged about.”

“Told you, I’m just down the road if you guys want a babysitter for date night.”

“I might take you up on that in a few weeks.” You looked over to Toto who was speaking to Bono and jutted your chin his way. “Has he mentioned anything about who’s in line for your seat?”

“Nothing set in stone, just lots of talk - or at least that’s what he told me.”

“Fair enough, you’re the enemy now,” you teased.

“Netflix is going to love this season. Did you see Nando re-signed?”

“Mhmm, I sent him a pot plant and instructions to wipe the floor with Lance. I think he’s taken it on board.” Fernando already had nearly four times as many points in the driver championship so far and you expected that to increase after the race.

“There’s rumours Lance is going to WEC next year, maybe there'll be another seat opening.”

“Fuck that,” you scoffed. “If I get a seat it’s going to be with a team that has some sense of loyalty. I’m sick of being dropped like a hot potato the second anything goes wrong. I’m desperate, but not that desperate.”

Lewis was about to be called for the driver parade and you realised just how quickly time had passed. “I should let you finish your rituals, we still have a few stops to make before the race.”

He handed Autumn back and gave you a hug. “Don’t lose that glow stressing about getting a seat, mama, enjoy your time with this little beauty. Che sarà, sarà.”

“Practising Italian already, huh?” you teased as you buckled Autumn into the stroller where she promptly fell asleep after the movement disturbed her. “I will keep your wise words in mind.”

The paddock was quieter as you made your way down the line of garages. Most guests would already be in the viewing spaces above the pit lane to watch the drivers parade so there weren’t many people for security to part.

“Ma’am,” the head guard called as he stood in front of an imposing suited figure. “He wants a word.”

You nodded your head and he moved to let the man through. “I’m kind of running late, Lawrence.”

“I just want to say congratulations,” your old boss said as he looked into the stroller and removed his sunglasses. “She’s very cute, you must be proud.”

“You could have sent a text message.”

Lawrence sighed at the frosty tone. “In hindsight things may have been handled a little callously but you should understand it was for your own good. This isn’t an office job that can be worked while pregnant, it would have been irresponsible as an employer.”

“I understand that, it was the fact you fired me without even talking to me first - I had to find out through the tabloids - and before that the way you let your son get away with treating his team is actually despicable.”

Lawrence pulled a white handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleaned his glasses as he stared off into the distance. “You’re not wrong, but we are working on his attitude and behaviour - discreetly.”

You raised an eyebrow but he wasn’t going to share anything further, instead he took one last look at Autumn and put the aviators back on his nose. Maybe there was some weight behind the rumours.

“Hopefully we’ll see you back on the grid at some point. You were one hell of a racer.”

“Am, Mr Stroll,” you corrected as you turned the brake off the pram. “I am one hell of a racer.”

Click here for the next part.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Agora Hills - Lewis Hamilton

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Agora Hills - Doja Cat - @greedyjudge2

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: fluff, bits of angst

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

Y/n sat on the balcony of Lewis’s Monaco apartment, the soft hum of the city below blending with the rhythmic sound of waves hitting the shore. The yachts floating in the harbor cast glowing reflections on the water, the sea shimmering under the moonlight like it didn’t care that the entire world now knew she was with Lewis.

The view was breathtaking, but her mind was elsewhere—trapped in the chaos that followed her latest Instagram post.

Her fingers absently scrolled through the comments, her feed flooded with reactions. Some were congratulatory, filled with heart emojis and well wishes. Others, not so much—there was shock, skepticism, those who’d convinced themselves this day would never come, and, of course, the inevitable chatter about their age difference.

She sensed Lewis before she saw him, the familiar sound of the sliding door breaking the quiet of the night.

He stepped onto the balcony, barefoot and shirtless, the sea breeze tousling his loose curls. He wore only a pair of workout shorts, his skin still humid from a shower.

Without a word, he dropped into the chair beside her, his body naturally leaning into hers as if they’d done this a hundred times before.

And they had, in private, away from prying eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever gotten this many comments on a post on my personal profile,” she quipped, handing him her phone. There was a slight edge to her voice, but her expression stayed neutral, calm.

Lewis took the phone, scanning through the flood of responses. His lips curled into a familiar grin. “People love a good scandal.”

She raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. “Oh, we’re a scandal now?”

He gave her a playful side-eye. “A prominent young interior designer from LA and an old F1 driver? Babe, we’ve been a scandal since that first photo of us on the beach leaked.”

She let out a laugh, the sound light, but laced with the weight of the truth. “They don’t even know half of it.”

“And they don’t need to,” he said simply, lowering her phone onto the small table between them. His voice was calm, but the meaning was firm. “What we have? It’s ours. No one else.”

Y/n sighed, tilting her head back to look at the stars—ones she could never see clearly in LA, hidden behind the glare of city lights. “It’s just... It’s always about how everyone things we’re in different stages of life. Like I’m not supposed to have my life together because I’m younger.”

Lewis shifted, facing her more directly, his eyes catching the moonlight. “You know what you want and you stated that to me, very clearly, from the start. We’ve always been on the same page.”

“I know,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “But sometimes the noise gets loud. I mean, I’m 25, Lewis. They act like I’m some kid figuring things out, but I’m not. I’ve worked for everything I have.”

He smiled gently. “You’re killing it. You’ve got major projects lined up, your business is growing, I don’t think there’s anyone out there who could say you don’t have your shit together... and” he added with a grin “I don’t care what they think. I care about us.”

Y/n reached out, running her fingers along his jaw. “And we’re good. We’ve always been good. There’s just something about seeing it all out there now. No more guessing, no more rumors. It feels big.”

“It is” he said, taking both of her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. “But I truly I want to show you off. Brag about us.”

“Now you sound like a boomer” She raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk forming on her lips.

“Yeah? Well, I am. And I want to be the guy who brags about his girl to the whole world.” He laughed, a deep sound as his eyes softened. “I mean it, Y/n. I want the world to know how lucky I am.”

Her teasing smile faltered as his words sunk in. There was a sincerity in his voice that made her heart swell, a reminder of just how long they’d been dancing around this moment.

The nights spent apart while she worked late and he traveled for races, the quiet dinners in hidden corners of different cities, the whispered phone calls in hotel rooms where they’d talk about everything except the world waiting outside the door.

And yet, through it all, they had been steady. Solid.

“I want that too” she admitted quietly. “I want everyone to know I’m with you. That I’m happy with you.”

Lewis smiled; his thumb tracing circles on her hand. “And if people don’t get it, they don’t have to. I’m not looking for validation from anyone but you.”

She leaned in, pressing her lips to his in a slow, deliberate kiss. The kind that made everything else—the comments, the headlines, the opinions—fade away.

When she pulled back, there was a mischievous glint in her eye.

“You always know just what to say, don’t you?” she teased.

“I’ve had practice,” he replied with a grin. “But you’re going to have to get used to this. Especially if you keep dropping hints like that caption.”

She raised an eyebrow, her smirk deepening. “You mean ‘tie the knot’?”

Lewis laughed, shaking his head. “They’ve been asking me that since I started racing. At this point, I’ve got answers for every version of the question.”

“Do you?” she asked, her tone shifting, becoming more serious. Her gaze searched his face, looking for the truth behind his casual words.

His expression softened, the playful tone giving way to something more genuine. “You know I do. But only when you’re ready. We’ve got time, Y/n. I’m not in a rush.”

She let out a breath, feeling the tension ease out of her shoulders. “Good. Because I want it to be on our terms. Not anyone else’s.”

“It will” he promised, pulling her closer. His arm wrapped around her waist, warm and solid, the weight of it a comfort. “Everything we do, it will always be on our terms.”

They sat wrapped in each other for a while, the quiet of the night wrapping around them. The lights from the yachts flickered on the water, the city humming in the background, but it all felt distant—like the world could wait just a little longer.

Eventually, her phone buzzed again, the screen lighting up with notifications. Y/n glanced at it, her expression an amused smile.

“Yeah” she said, holding the phone out for him to see. “I too would be losing my mind if I found out you were taken”

Lewis took the phone, scrolling through the latest flood of comments. He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Good. They’ll figure out eventually that we’re not going anywhere.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder, her voice calm and certain. “They will.”

______________________________________________________________

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[atinystraynstay]

Double Take - Lee Chan

Synopsis: Dino was convinced dating was just swiping on a dating app, going out for a diner, and maybe getting further than that before being ghosted. It was just the perils of dating as a young adult. There was just something different about you though.

Pairing: Non-idol!Lee Chan x fem. reader

Genre: "her first everything" girl meets the "first nothing" boy

Inspired by @aaniag - thanks for tagging me in this post ♡

First Encounters Mini Series: #1: #2: #3: #4: Wonwoo #5: Jeonghan #6: #7: #8: Dino

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: does contain descriptions of anxiety - please make sure you are taking care of your mind, body, and soul. If you ever need someone to vent to, my DMs are always a safe space ��

Dating in your 20s is not as glamorous as they make it seem in the movies. First dates sometimes flourished into second dates but quickly fizzled out. Or it sometimes was someone you were interested in that just turned into a one night stand.

While sure, there times that Dino wished he had a more solid connection with someone. But he was in no rush to settle down and get married.

Going to college helped Dino not only helped him find his passions in life but also found confidence in himself.

Maybe that was one positive to come out of dating apps? It made Dino feel good when he could swipe on someone and it was an instant match. He hated the moments where he would swipe on someone he found attractive, but would be stuck waiting to see if there was a mutual attractive. And sometimes, he would forget about who he swiped on because there would no ping indicating they swiped on him.

He never thought of himself as the most attractive guy. Honestly, he thought was more average than anything else.

But the moment he found himself in the bed of someone, he felt more reassured in himself. The more that people wanted him, attempted to gain his attention, he felt better about who he was as a person. I mean, college is all about self growth anyways, right? Dino's learning just happened beyond the classroom.

"Trying to find another date?" Seungkwan teased. "More like he's trying to find someone to fuck since he's getting lonely at night," Jeonghan added in.

There were times Dino regretted signing a lease with Seungkwan and Jeonghan. This was one of those times. The two of them thought fondly of their younger roommate, so they often lurked over his shoulder.

"Oh! She's cute," Seungkwan commented.

Hearing his friend, his head turned and narrowed his eyes at the culprit. He suddenly moved his phone close to his chest to gain some sort of privacy. But that was a big ask in this house especially with how close the three friends were. Jeonghan, being the menace he is, moved his hand around to move the phone away from Dino's chest which caused Dino to jump.

"Can I never have anything to myself?" he whined. "She's normally not your type, but maybe we could use a change?" "We?!" Dino gasped.

The two guys laughed before they moved away from the younger boy to go elsewhere in the apartment. Now alone, Dino did take a moment to look at your pictures closer. There were a few photos just of you. He found himself smiling at the way your eyes nearly closed when you were smiling wide. You also had a few pictures with friends at different events.

His thumb then pushed upwards on his phone screen, so he could look deeper into your profile. I have to know who she is.

The first thing he noticed was your name, 'Y/n," he murmured under his breath. It rolled off this tongue so eloquently. He also noticed that you were only 2 miles away from him.

Part of him wanted to stop and just swipe. There was always an element of mystery that came to first dates. Dino's favorite part was when he got to ask questions, got to learn about the other person. Yet, there was something urging him to keep going. After all, looking over your profile could give good talking points.

What sold the deal was your bio - "looking to experience something new 👀"

Intrigued, Dino swiped right on your account. And automatically, fire emojis skyrocketed from the bottom of the app and covered the screen. It's a match! was written across the screen as it brought up your profile with the ability to message you now available.

His fingers typed at lightning speed. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face at the presented opportunity to get to know you.

"I've never done this before. Wanna grab dinner tonight?"

You were at home, binging the reunion of Love Is Blind with your roommates. It was a lazy Saturday afternoon which of course required getting snacks from the grocery store, doing face masks, and a bottle of wine. All of your phones were placed on the table to minimize distractions

While all your roommates and you had different schedules, binging reality TV seemed to be the way you were able to come together. Everyone's eyes were watching the confrontation between two of the contestants when suddenly all eyes shifted to the coffee table once someone's phone lit up.

Specifically, your phone.

"Oh my god, guys! Y/n matched with someone on Tinder," one of your roommates called out. "And they messaged her."

And just like that, Love is Blind was forgotten about. Your third roommate reached for the Amazon Fire Stick remote to pause the Netflix show. All eyes then flickered from the coffee table and you. Never before had you been glad for a face mask to cover your face to hide your rouging cheeks, knowing that will only result in further teasing.

"Relax, you hyenas," you called out. It was as if they were holding their breaths until you read the message.

You typed in your password since your Face ID was not able to recognizing your face with the sheet mask on. The extra stop practically caused your roommates to shake with anticipation. You couldn't deny. You shared the same excitement, as you have decided this year, you were intentionally investing more in dating.

It's not like you had chosen before to not date. It was just something that settled on the back burner. You had always hoped to meet someone more organically, like at the coffee shop or on public transportation. Something out of a Hallmark movie. But that's not how reality worked. When you did meet someone, it was always overwhelmingly flirty which made you instantly retreat from the situation.

Yet, you couldn't deny the happiness you saw from your own friends and roommates when it came to their dating life. Oddly, even if it were a bad date, you wanted to feel the rush of getting ready for someone. You knew that in order to date that would require you putting yourself out there and being vulnerable. Your own saving grace was knowing your morales and not falling victim to social pressures.

Even if it meant not matching with many people because you wanted to take things slow, you would be content as you search for your perfect person.

Dino sent you a message

And maybe that was Dino.

There was no denying the smile that curled onto your lips at the name. You found the name adoring, peaking your interest. Your clicked on the message to read it.

"I've never done this before. Wanna grab dinner tonight?"

Your eyes widened which caused your roommates to lean in closer. The two right by your side let out a gasp, as the other two were practically going to pounce on you. However, you were too preoccupied with looking through his profile.

It took everything within you to maintain your composure, even if you wanted to squeal and kick your feet at the potential date. There were a few photos taken when he's been out to dinner. One in particular that caught your eye was him in a black tee shirt with a silver chain around his neck. Hello big arms! He had a softer face with a sharp jawline. Something about him seemed so friendly, making you even more willing to take the leap of faith.

"Come on, y/n," your one roommate begged. "We want to take a peak on tonight's bachelor."

You rolled your eyes before giving in and showed them his profile. One by one, your phone was passed around. Yet, after each person, there was a wide smile which indicated a sign of approval from your roommates. They knew that it took someone special for you to say yes, but it seemed like Dino had unlocked it just by sending a simple message.

"So what's the verdict, y/n? Are you extending a rose to Dino?"

What can you say? You guys really do love reality TV shows.

Without responding, your fingers went to work on the keypad of the app.

"Yeah, that sounds great! What's your favorite type of food? You can pick the restaurant as long as you meet me there at 7pm."

6:55pm

Dino had a routine when it came to first dates. Of course, he would shower first. He then would pick out an outfit that looked good but also one that was comfortable. Sometimes, after sitting for a while, he disliked the way certain jeans felt and he didn't want to be too squirmy in the chair across from his date. But he didn't want to dress too casually that might give the impression he was putting in little effort into this date.

For tonight, he opted for a pair of baggy jeans, a white t-shirt, and a tri-color cardigan. It was approaching that time of year when it might be a bit warm when the sun comes out, but gets a bit chilly still when the sun sets. Plus, he suggested going to a Mexican restaurant in between the two of you, so he knew while it might be a laid back setting, that he still looked presentable.

He had driven to the restaurant, since taking public transportation would take a bit too long especially since the restaurant was not even 20 minutes away. It was still light out too, but he knew when it was dark, he also had the opportunity to drive you home in the event you opted not to drive.

With his wallet and keys in his pockets, he approached the front entrance of the restaurant. It was a bit crowded for a Sunday night, but honestly, Dino didn't mind either way. He was admittedly excited that he was going to go out with you. Before leaving, Jeonghan and Seungkwan hyped him up and warned "she seems like a good girl, don't scare her."

There, indeed, was something different about you. Dino just couldn't put a finger on it, but that also made this date exciting. He's never had this level of interest in someone before.

As he approached, he noticed you were standing up front waiting for him. He couldn't help but smile at the gesture but also pick up his pace, not wanting you to be left waiting for long. Your thumb double-tapped your home screen, showing the time. Your noticeably let out a sigh before picking up your head. With a slight turn of your head, you made direct eye contact with him.

Dino couldn't help but notice the way your shoulders relaxed. Was she nervous? That's adorable. He wouldn't be rude and comment on it. He was just meeting you after all, and he wouldn't be so mean to embarrass you. Talk about a bad first impression.

"Hey y/n," he said as he approached you. "And you must be Dino," you smiled.

Gosh, her voice sounds angelic.

He never knew of someone who's voice matched so well to who they are as a person, but that wasn't the case with you. You were dressed so elegantly. Nothing too outlandish - just a pair of jeans and a rainbow colored sweater that looked light enough to be worn in any type of climate. You looked cute and breathtaking at the same time. A real life angel.

"I'm sorry if I kept you waiting," Dino apologized.

He reached behind you to open the front door, nodding his head for you to step in first. Your cheeks flushed quickly which caused Dino to smile brighter. "Thank you," you said before walking in. Dino let you take a few steps ahead of him before he joined in behind you. He kept a respectful distance, so you didn't feel uncomfortable but enough to indicate to any patron you two were together.

"Hi! I called earlier for dinner for two? The name is under Lee Chan."

The hostess nodded before looking down at the booklet, her finger acting as if it was guided to her name. Once she spotted his name, she grabbed the sharpie and crossed it out. She then proceeded to grab two menus before turning towards the two of you. "If you will follow me."

You glanced behind him with a wider smile this time. "You made reservations?" "Of course! I wanted to play it on the safe side."

It was such a tiny gesture but one that surely made your heart flutter. You never knew of anyone calling this particular restaurant for reservations, let alone anyone make reservations for the two of you. Knowing that Dino had been that thoughtful made you feel special. That had to be a tell-tale sign of the type of person he was. It just reassured you that this indeed was a good decision, even if it was spur of the moment.

You two were led to a booth along the wall. You were able to people watch if you desired, one of your favorite things to do. But it also offered enough privacy for the two of you to really get to know each other.

"M'lady," Dino said jokingly.

And he's funny! You giggled before accepting the menu from him. Being a bit nervous, you did look over the menu online before the date. You weren't trying to put too much weight on this date and all that it could potentially lead to. However, you still wanted things to go well.

"So? I gotta ask, is your name Dino or Chan? Or is there some secret third option?"

Dino couldn't help but laugh at your question. It was a fair question, and he knew that he would have to provide some context eventually. Lowering his menu, he wanted to be able to make eye contact with you. He didn't want to be rude!

"So, my full name is Lee Chan, but my friends call me Dino." "Dino," you said to yourself, smiling. "Why do they call you that?"

He smiled fondly at the memory of how he gained his nickname.

The menu was fully resting on the table, not only because he had made his dinner selection but because ehe was now fully invested in the conversation with you.

On the receiving end, the attention was a bit overwhelming. You were not so accustom to someone you were interested in making such direct eye contact with you. It only intensified the butterflies you felt in your tummy by his conscious choice of body language.

Yet, it wasn't something Dino just knew to be good manners. Plus, after one date when he looked all over the restaurant instead of just focusing on his date, he learned that's one way how you don't secure a second date.

"Well, believe it or not, y/n, I was a shy guy. Especially when I first was starting college? I could barely say hi without feeling nervous. But I guess as I experienced what it means to be in college, put myself out there, I started to gain more and more confidence. Eventually, my friends started to notice and said I was like the T-Rex in Jurassic Park, just bursting into the room and getting everyone's attention with my loud energy."

You nodded gently as you listened to him, smiling. You wanted him to keep talking to you, about himself. It helped take some of the pressure off of yourself, but you also were genuinely interested in Dino.

"Well, it is a very fitting nickname. Cute, I like it." "Cute like me?" Dino winked.

Immediately, your cheeks turned bright red as you tried hiding behind your menu. Dino couldn't help but chuckle more which only made you want to sink further into the booth, to hide. Was it a pitiful laugh or did he find it attractive?

God, what have I gotten myself into?

The waitress was your saving grace. You didn't have to come to some lame excuse or be subject to Dino's line of questioning quite yet. The waitress also coming around to take your order allowed the blood to subside from your cheeks. You wanted to try to be this cool and mysterious, to leave a good first impression. But honestly? You felt like a fish out of water. This was a brand new experience for you, and you were beginning to think you were too over your head.

Were you even ready to date? How does one even know if they are ready or need more time?

Once your orders were placed, Dino and you handed your menus to the waitress before she left you two alone. Here we go.

"So, y/n, tell me about yourself," Dino asked before taking a sip out of his water.

Okay! An easy question! Perfect.

You sat up a bit straighter in the booth, becoming a bit self conscious of your posture. At least from everything you've heard and seen about dates, even the tiniest things can make or break the date.

You told Dino about how you recently graduated college in the winter. Recently, you took the leap to move the city as your job was switching from remote to a hybrid model. You also needed the change of scenery, which has helped you want to put more roots down in the city.

Dino was impressed with your sheer perseverance. It's never easy to say goodbye to what you now and venture into the unknown, but you proved it was possible.

"Wow, that's really incredible. Good for you, y/n. I moved here with two of my best friends, so I cannot not imagine just making such a big move. Do you live alone?" "Oh no, I have like 5 roommates in our three floor apartment. It really helps." "So like a little family?" "Definitely feels like that sometimes," you laughed.

Truly, you held your roommates close to your heart. Not only did things work out for a good living situation, but they were the first friends you made in the city. They helped you through the homesickness you felt by letting you openly talk about life back home, or push for you to cook some of your favorite meals for them to try.

They also were big supporters in your venturing into dating. They offered many tips into how to date safely and allowed you to ask questions without judgement. They also were clearly very excited you took a chance of Dino rather than running in the opposite direction.

"So is that why you're on the dating apps? If you don't mind me asking, do you find yourself ready to date in a new palce?"

Well, he was half-right.

"Yeah, I think I'm ready to finally open myself up in that way. Moving and getting used to my surroundings really took a large chunk of my time." "No, that's completely understand. I've come to learn you need to be satisfied with yourself and other aspects of your life before being vulnerable with someone else because someone can really shake things up." "Well, for better and for worse."

He smiled at your optimism before nodding in agreement.

"So, if you don't mind me asking, when was your last relationship? It sounds like you have some past experience."

Dino couldn't help but chuckle. It wasn't really at the question himself, but the experiences he has had with dating were a bit comical. You frowned a bit, worrying that you asked the same question. He quickly stopped though to offer a gentle smile.

"Sorry, it's not you. Some memories of past dates came flooding in," he explained.

Well, that's more than I have, so you couldn't wait to hear them. Maybe they were just as funny as some are on the sitcoms you liked to rewatch?

Yet, you couldn't help but wonder if your very limited experience would be a deal breaker.

"What about you though? If you don't mind me asking," Dino said, restating the exact words you said to him.

It was meant to be comforting, but it made you all the more nervous. I guess it was the moment of truth.

"If we're being honest, I haven't been in a serious relationship before."

As you spoke, your tone was softer than from how you had previously carried it throughout the conversation. Dino couldn't help but frown and feel his heart chip a bit. Going on dates and then dating someone was always exciting, so he felt empathetic that you hadn't quite experienced that type of emotions yet. And he also felt sad that people had done you wrong.

"People suck," he murmured. "I'm sorry that you've been out with people who didn't take the time to realize how lucky they were for meeting you."

Your eyes widened at his words. You opened your mouth to clarify but you were so thrown off by his words. Luck? He thought it was a good thing meeting me? A complete stranger? You bit the inside of your cheek to try to rid of the creeping blush on your cheeks. This guy was too sweet to you.

"I mean, I felt like I was lucky when I found out you swiped on me," he confessed.

Now it was Dino's turn to blush. Your eyes widened but you couldn't help but smile wider. It was endearing to see him get a bit shy, almost like he was revealing the past version of himself. You were truly the lucky one that someone had just wanted to spend their Sunday evening with you.

"Trust me, I felt the same way. Even more so when you asked me. It was an easy yes."

Dino's ego came soaring back a bit. He knew the hardship of dating in college and trying to form authentic relationships. What he found himself wanting to do now was give you the best that he could offer to you.

"So is that what you meant in your bio when you put that you are looking for something new?"

It was as if in that moment you could hear glass shattering. Reality had come back into full swinging, shattering any sense of hope you had. There was no fighting the truth because it always finds a way to reveal itself. God, I just want to be eaten by the floor.

"Actually, yes and no?"

You sounded unsure of yourself. Yet, not wanting to jump to any conclusions, Dino kept a smile curled onto his lips. The way he sat was relaxed yet he was leaning in slightly, showing you that he was ready to listen to you. It was a silent way of encouraging you to speak, if you wanted to that is. Honestly, Dino just appreciated that he was with someone who seemed genuine rather than someone looking for a free meal or just to sneak off to the bedroom afterwards.

"So yes, this," you said, gesturing between the two of you. "is new to me. I've never gone on a date with a guy I matched from Tinder."

As if Dino's ego could grow anymore. You took a chance on him? You decided to try something new, to experience something different from your day-to-day all because you saw his profile? And that himself decided to take a risk and message you? Damn, he just won the damn lottery.

"But dating in general is new for me."

Woah, pause. You've never dated someone before? His eyes widened and jaw dropped slightly.

All you could do was sit there as began to panic. Oh no. Everything around you felt like it was coming tumbling down. And to make matters worse, the waitress showed up with your dinner plates. She set them down in front of the two of you respectful. The awkward tension literally being cut by the sound of sizzling meats from Dino's fajitas and the steam rising into the air.

"Let me know if you two need anything else!"

I need you to help me get out of this nightmare.

"Sorry," Dino said, clearing his throat. God, he felt awful. He could actually see the way your heart shattered at his reaction. And the thing was that he didn't even think it was a bad thing. He was just surprised because he was under the impression that everyone his age just dated around and that it was awful.

Time to do some damage control.

"I'm just surprised. I know it can't be because guys weren't throwing themselves at you. I mean, you are absolutely breathtaking," he vocalized. "But you really never have been on a first date? Ever?" "Never ever," you said, laughing nervously.

Now he felt the need just to get to know you, but also be protective of you. You truly were an angel in every sense to him.

The remainder of the date was smooth. It was as if disclosing your little secret helped you feel more relaxed. It also helped that Dino didn't come from a place of judgement. You did end up asking him what all he had experienced, and he admitted that it was quite a bit more.

But it seems like the thing you two were searching for was an authentic love connection. It was something Dino has gotten close to experiencing, but only scratched the surface of discovering.

Dino was the absolute gentleman during the date. He made sure you had enough water, that you were enjoying your meal, and that he even paid. That was something he wouldn't let you dispute. You weren't expecting it either, which also took Dino by surprised. He figured it was just first date etiquette that the man pays. Yet, you've heard too many horror stories from your roommates and TikToks were the guy doesn't even over to pay his half.

He even offered to drive you home. You were hesitant, for which Dino than at least offered to order you an Uber back to your apartment. But feeling guilty of him spending more money, you agreed to a ride back to your apartment. He allowed you to put in your address into the GPS before you relaxed in the passenger seat.

Never before did Dino think there was something special about a person riding passenger seat. Now, he wanted you always to be by his side in this sense. He loved glancing over whenever he rolled up to the stop sign or stopped at a red light that he could see you.

There indeed was something different about you, and Dino felt it. You were unlike any other woman he's been with as you seemed to want to invest in someone, to create something unique. You made him feel as though all those trials and tribulations of dating were all worth it if it meant it led all to you this whole time.

Coming up to your apartment, Dino parked the car. You raised an eyebrow as you watched him get out. It all clicked though when he walked around to open the passenger side door.

"You really are a gentleman, huh?" You said teasingly. "Hey, I'm just making sure you get to experience everything you've missed out on."

You smiled brightly at him before gently getting out of the passenger seat. And this time, you didn't hide your blushing cheeks. Dino loved knowing that he could elicit that type of reaction out of you, and he wanted to do it more often. Hopefully he's done enough to get you to consider a second date.

Once he made sure you were on the sidewalk and away from the door, he closed it. Slowly, he began walking you to the front door of your row house apartment. It was as if he didn't want the night to end. Neither did you.

"So," he began. "How was your very first date?" "It was everything I could have dreamed of and then some. Thank you for your kindness, Dino." "Anything for you, angel,' he confessed in a hushed tone.

Angel. I could get used to that.

Sooner than you two would like, you arrived at the steps of your apartment. Turning towards each other, you seemed like a lost for words. Especially you. What do you say to a guy that seems too good to be real? While you were hopeful he would want a second date, you wanted to be realistic. You couldn't fight the thoughts of your anxiety creeping in - what if he was only kind because he felt bad for you?

"I had a great time tonight, y/n," Dino began.

You were more than happy to let him take the lead on any sort of closing statement. Your racing heart and mind just was anticipating a 'but' to slip in.

"I don't want you to feel pressured to say yes to a second date. I know that there are a whirlwind of emotions that comes with any first date, let alone your very first one. All I'm saying is that I hope you consider seeing me again?"

The man in front of you was not the confident man you just had dinner with. He was biting his lip gently, his hands were in his pockets as he tried his damn best to keep eye contact with you. But, you could tell that he was anticipating a rejection.

Oh, how the tables have turned. Gently, you took a step towards Dino. His eyes widened slightly but he couldn't fight the smile on his face. Leaning up gently, you pressed your lips to his cheek lingeringly.

"And miss out on experiencing a second date? No way."

[papagrazza]

Hey welcome to the blogaria, my name’s Grazz and I’m an disassociated Australian who’s professionally and perpetually art blocked. Here you will find fanart, oc art & world building, doodles and Dragon Age. Lots of Dragon Age.

I enjoy reading, writing, digital and traditional art, RPG’s, watching birds & sitting in silence, awkward or otherwise.

At this stage in my life I am not prepared to take commissions or do requests (maybe one or two on the odd occasion) but I haven’t ruled it out entirely for the future, the moment anything begins to feel like a job I lose the love for it and I’ve only just managed to get back on the art grind after years so I’m trying to avoid that happening.

I’m most active here but I also have an Instagram under the same handle minus the ‘a’ at the end if you prefer that shitty app.

Feel free to reblog as u please of course but if you’re interested in posting any of my art elsewhere I’m happy to discuss that just shoot me a message. If you wish to reference any of my art that’s also fine, a lot of my stuff is referenced itself so I could even send you the original photo - don’t be scared to get in touch I’m more afraid of you than you are of me.

Thanks *kisses you passionately*

[atlasthegreatest]

Nobody Knows / Bae Joohyun x Female Reader

Everyone knew Bae Joohyun��� or more precisely— Irene. Known for her striking beauty and charming personality that enchanted both men and women alike. But there was something that nobody knew, not even her friends… is that she had a girlfriend.

Word count: 2650

A/n: Established relationship, soft angst, and fluff.

A/n: Once again… trying something out. I wrote this while listening to “Nobody Knows” by Kiss of Life. Hope you enjoy it!

The city lights flickered in the distance, a blurred sea of neon and concrete. From the 20th floor of her apartment, Bae Joohyun—known to the world as Irene, the adored leader of Red Velvet—stood in front of the large window, staring out into the night. Her phone vibrates on the table behind her, and the group chats alive with laughter and messages from her members. But tonight, her mind was elsewhere.

She glanced over her shoulder, watching the faint silhouette move quietly through the apartment. Y/n, her girlfriend, was unpacking groceries in the kitchen, humming softly to a song playing in her headphones. Joohyun smiled at the sight, a warmth spreading in her chest. There was a comfort in seeing Y/n in her space, in the quiet domesticity of it all, but beneath that comfort lay the unspoken reality that defined their lives. They existed in shadows.

The world loved Irene and adored her elegance and her pristine image. But Joohyun’s truth—her real truth—was something she couldn’t share. Not with the cameras, not with the fans, not with anyone outside these walls. And that truth was Jung Y/n.

“Hey,” Y/n’s voice broke the silence. She’d removed her headphones and approached Joohyun, wrapping her arms around her waist from behind. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

Joohyun leaned into her, savoring the moment. “Just… thinking.”

“About?” Y/n’s voice was soft, and patient. She knew. She always knew.

Joohyun turned, resting her hands on Y/n’s shoulders, their faces inches apart. “Do you ever think about what it would be like if we didn’t have to hide?”

Y/n’s expression softened, but there was sadness in her eyes. “All the time.”

They had been together for two years now. Two years of stolen moments, secret vacations, and late-night phone calls whispered into the early hours. To the world, Joohyun was single, an idol unattainable, mysterious. Y/n was her hidden treasure, the piece of her heart no one could ever see.

“It’s not fair,” Joohyun murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I hate that we have to do this.”

Y/n sighed, pulling Joohyun closer. “I know. But I also know that I’d rather have this, have you, even if it’s in secret, than not have you at all.”

Joohyun’s heart ached at the words, and she kissed Y/n’s forehead gently. They had this conversation more times than she could count, but it never got easier. The pressure of their hidden relationship weighed heavily on her every day. She’d catch herself daydreaming about a world where they could walk down the street hand in hand, post photos together, live openly and proudly. But that wasn’t their world. It was a fantasy.

“Do you regret it?” Joohyun asked suddenly, surprising herself with the question.

Y/n pulled back slightly, looking at her with wide eyes. “What? No. Joohyun, I could never regret us. Not for a second.”

The sincerity in her voice made Joohyun’s chest tighten. She had always been the one who struggled more with their secrecy. Y/n, ever patient, ever understanding, never wavered in her support. But Joohyun worried. She worried about how long they could keep this up, how long before it became too much.

“Sometimes I wish we could just… run away,” Joohyun admitted, her voice shaking with the weight of her words. “Forget about the cameras, the expectations, everything. Just be us.”

Y/n’s hand caressed Joohyun’s cheek, her touch grounding her. “Maybe one day, we can. But until then, we have this.” She gestured to the apartment around them, to the small but sacred space they shared. “We have us, here, now. And that’s enough for me.”

Joohyun smiled, though the sadness lingered. She leaned forward, capturing Y/n’s lips in a slow, tender kiss. It was moments like this—intimate, away from the world—where she felt the weight lift, even if just for a little while. Here, in Y/n’s arms, there was no pretense, no performance. She was just Joohyun, and that was enough.

They pulled away, foreheads resting together, breaths mingling in the quiet of the night. “I love you,” Joohyun whispered, the words slipping out as naturally as breathing.

“I love you too,” Y/n replied, her voice steady, reassuring.

Joohyun knew that their love was real, that it was worth the secrecy, the sacrifices. But as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the city lights blinking like distant stars, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had to change.

Because even though nobody knew, it didn’t mean that what they had was any less beautiful, any less real. And maybe one day, the world will see that too.

But for now, they remained hidden in the shadows, their love a secret, known only to them.

———————-

The next morning, Joohyun awoke to the smell of fresh coffee and the sound of quiet clattering in the kitchen. She stretched lazily in bed, the softness of the sheets tempting her to stay cocooned a little longer. But the sound of Y/n humming drew her out, pulling her into the small moments she cherished.

She padded into the kitchen, barefoot, wearing one of Y/n’s oversized shirts. There was a comfort in seeing her girlfriend there, looking so at home in her apartment. It was a sight Joohyun never got tired of, a secret privilege hidden from the rest of the world.

Y/n was making breakfast, her back turned to Joohyun. For a moment, Joohyun stood still, simply watching. The light filtering through the windows bathed Y/n in a soft glow, and Joohyun couldn’t help but marvel at how effortless her presence was, how she seemed to fit so perfectly into her life, even amid all the chaos.

Without a word, Joohyun wrapped her arms around Y/n’s waist from behind, burying her face in her back. Y/n laughed softly, leaning into the embrace.

“You’re up early,” Y/n teased. “I thought you’d sleep in after the schedule you had yesterday.”

Joohyun sighed against her skin, her voice muffled. “Couldn’t sleep without you next to me.”

Y/n turned in her arms, placing a kiss on Joohyun’s forehead. “Well, I’m here now.”

For a while, they stood like that, wrapped in each other, content in the quiet. But even in the peace of the moment, Joohyun could feel the undercurrent of tension that had been building between them. It was subtle, almost invisible, but it was there—an invisible wall that neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

She pulled away, walking over to the kitchen table, her expression more serious now. “Y/n,” she started carefully, “I’ve been thinking…”

Y/n glanced at her, eyebrows raised, as she turned off the stove. “About what?”

Joohyun hesitated. She didn’t want to ruin the moment, but the thoughts that had been swirling in her mind since last night refused to stay silent.

“About us,” Joohyun admitted. “About… how long we can keep doing this.”

Y/n didn’t answer right away. Instead, she turned back to the stove, stirring the food in silence. Joohyun could feel her girlfriend’s energy shift, a heaviness settling between them. It was a conversation they had danced around for months now—one they both feared would change everything.

After a long pause, Y/n finally spoke, her voice quiet but steady. “Do you want to break up?”

The question hit Joohyun like a punch to the gut, even though she knew it was coming. The truth was, she didn’t want to break up. She couldn’t imagine her life without Y/n. But the weight of their secrecy, of constantly looking over her shoulder, was starting to suffocate her.

“No,” Joohyun said quickly, almost too quickly. “I don’t want to stop. But I don’t know how long we can keep living like this—hiding, pretending like none of this is real.”

Y/n nodded, her expression unreadable. She placed the pan on the counter and turned to face Joohyun fully, crossing her arms. “I know it’s hard, Joohyun. Believe me, I do. But I don’t know what else we can do. You’re an idol. Your life isn’t your own anymore, and neither is mine because I’m with you.”

Joohyun’s heart sank at the words. She knew Y/n was right. Their relationship didn’t just affect Joohyun—it affected Y/n too. She had given up so much for this love, for them, and Joohyun couldn’t help but feel guilty for dragging her into this world of hidden glances and whispered affection.

“I’m sorry,” Joohyun whispered, her voice cracking. “I hate that I’ve put you in this position.”

Y/n softened at the sight of Joohyun’s tears. She walked over, kneeling in front of her and taking her hands. “Hey, stop that. Don’t apologize. I chose this. I chose you. I knew what it would be like from the beginning.”

Joohyun wiped at her eyes, trying to hold back the flood of emotions. “But it’s not fair to you. You shouldn’t have to live like this—always in the shadows.”

Y/n smiled sadly, her thumb brushing over Joohyun’s knuckles. “I knew what I was getting into. I love you, Joohyun. That’s never going to change. But if this is too much for you… if we are too much for you, I need you to be honest with me.”

The weight of Y/n’s words hung in the air, and for the first time, Joohyun realized just how fragile they were. Their relationship had always felt like a balancing act, walking a tightrope between the public image she had to maintain and the private life she longed to protect. But now, standing at this crossroads, the tightrope felt thinner than ever.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Joohyun said softly, her voice breaking. “But I don’t know how to keep us safe anymore.”

Y/n pulled Joohyun into her arms, holding her tightly. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

For a moment, Joohyun allowed herself to believe it. She clung to Y/n, burying her face in her shoulder, letting the warmth of her embrace chase away the fears, if only for a moment. But deep down, Joohyun knew that something had to give. This life of secrets, of stolen moments and hidden love, couldn’t last forever.

And as much as they wanted to pretend otherwise, they both knew that the fractures beneath the surface were growing deeper.

————————

It was nearing midnight, and the streets of Seoul were quieter than usual, though still alive with the hum of passing cars and distant conversations. Joohyun and Y/n walked side by side, hands brushing occasionally, but never fully intertwining. Not here, not where someone could see them. Despite the dim streetlights and the darkened corners of the city, Joohyun’s instinct to protect them—to protect her—never wavered. The night air was crisp, and Y/n had borrowed one of Joohyun’s hoodies, the oversized fabric engulfing her tall frame.

They had been walking for almost an hour now, having decided to sneak away from Joohyun’s apartment for some fresh air. It was rare that they ventured out together, but tonight, there was a restless energy between them, something unspoken that drove them from the safety of four walls into the uncertain freedom of the outside world.

Joohyun glanced at Y/n, her heart tightening at the sight of her girlfriend’s content expression. Y/n had always been the braver one, the one who could find peace in the fleeting moments they stole from the world. Joohyun admired that about her, but it also terrified her. She knew that one wrong move, one careless mistake, could shatter the fragile world they had built.

“Do you think they’d understand?” Y/n’s voice cut through the silence, her words soft but deliberate.

Joohyun frowned, unsure of what she meant. “Who?”

“The fans,” Y/n clarified, her eyes still fixed ahead. “If they knew about us. Do you think they’d understand?”

The question lingered in the cool air, hanging between them like a heavy fog. Joohyun didn’t answer right away. It was something she had thought about countless times, something that haunted her every day. The fans—Red Velvet’s beloved ReVeluvs—had been with her through everything. They adored her and idolized her, but their love came with expectations. Expectations that she wasn’t sure she could meet if they knew the truth.

“I don’t know,” Joohyun admitted quietly. “Some of them might. But others… I don’t think they’d accept it. Not yet.”

Y/n nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line. “It’s scary, isn’t it? Loving someone and knowing that the world might not love them the way you do.”

Joohyun stopped walking, her breath catching in her throat at the raw honesty of Y/n’s words. She turned to face her, eyes searching Y/n’s face for any sign of fear or doubt. But Y/n wasn’t scared. She never was. Her gaze was steady and unwavering, and it made Joohyun feel both incredibly loved and deeply vulnerable.

“I hate that I can’t show you off,” Joohyun whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You deserve so much more than this. More than me.”

Y/n frowned, stepping closer and taking Joohyun’s hand, despite the risk. “Don’t say that. I don’t want more. I want you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Joohyun’s chest tightened, and she squeezed Y/n’s hand, her grip almost desperate. “But it’s not fair. I wish I could tell the world how much I love you.”

Y/n smiled sadly, her thumb brushing over Joohyun’s knuckles. “You tell me every day. That’s enough.”

They stood there, in the middle of the quiet street, the world around them fading into the background. For a brief moment, it felt like time had stopped, like the universe had paused just for them. In this small bubble of stolen time, Joohyun allowed herself to imagine what it would be like if they didn’t have to hide. If she could post photos of them together, laugh openly in public, hold Y/n’s hand without fear of judgment. But the reality was never that simple.

Y/n stepped closer, her free hand cupping Joohyun’s cheek. “I know this is hard. But we’re not alone in this. We have each other, and that’s what matters.”

Joohyun closed her eyes, leaning into Y/n’s touch. “I just want to give you the world.”

“You already do,” Y/n whispered, her lips brushing softly against Joohyun’s. “Every day.”

The kiss was gentle, tender—filled with the weight of all the things they couldn’t say, all the things they longed to express but never could. It was a promise, a silent vow that no matter what happened, they would face it together.

When they pulled away, Y/n smiled, that easy, reassuring smile that always made Joohyun’s heart skip. “Come on,” she said, her voice lightening as she tugged on Joohyun’s hand. “Let’s go get some ice cream. It’s not like anyone’s going to recognize us at this hour.”

Joohyun laughed, the sound bubbling up from her chest as the tension between them dissolved. It was moments like these that made everything worth it—the quiet walks, the late-night talks, the secret kisses. Even though their love was hidden, it was theirs. And for now, that was enough.

As they walked down the dimly lit street, hand in hand and laughing like teenagers sneaking out past curfew, Joohyun felt a sense of peace settle over her. Maybe one day, they could live openly. Maybe one day, the world will understand.

But until then, they had these fleeting moments—moments where nothing else mattered but them.

And in those moments, Joohyun realized, they were free.

[amazing-spiderling]

Hey everyone. How are we doing? If you stumbled on this post because you follow me on Tumblr, I'm guessing the answer is NOT GREAT. Me either. Hoof.

But something that makes me feel a little better is taking action, and turning bits of my skill and time to something productive, which is why I've decided to offer ongoing decorated toploader commissions to you, the fine folks of the internet. For the low (well, reasonable) price of a ten dollar or more donation to one of the listed organizations (or the vetted Palestinian fundraiser of your choice, there's too many for me to list, but you can certainly find some reblogged here and elsewhere) I will decorate a toploader holding a trading/photo card of the character/celebrity/pet/etc of your choice.

You may have seen some of my deco jobs here on my blog, but if not, here's an a few pieces of my work. (You can find more by searching my blog for "decorated toploader")

These are just a few I've done in recent months!

I currently have HUNDREDS of vintage Marvel and Sailor Moon trading cards in my possession, but if I don't have your favorite character, I am happy to make a custom card (like how I printed out Hannibal and low-poly Otacon above). I'm tagging the fandoms I know, but I'm more than willing to do whoever your favorite is. (I may just need a little context to get the vibe right.)

I will be mailing your card to you (domestic or international) in a standard envelope, this way I can use a regular stamp instead of fussing with postage/customs/etc. And you don't have to pay shipping (unless you really want to have me send it as a tracked package). I haven't had any issue with cards arriving this way thus far, especially within the US.

If you are interested (and I hope you are) send me a proof of your donation (dated 11/9/24 or after) of $10 or more to one of the following:

The Trevor Project

Trans Lifeline

National Network of Abortion Funds

ACLU

OR the personal fundraiser of any Palestinian in need!

I can usually knock these out fairly quickly (2-3 in an evening if I'm in the zone) but you can always check with me if you need them ASAP. (Say, maybe for a holiday gift for your fandom friends? Eh? EHH?)

I hope you'll consider helping out these organizations as we brace ourselves for a difficult time. Even if you can't donate at this time, a signal boost is ALWAYS welcome.

Thanks again for checking out this long long post- wishing the best for all of us. <3

[magics-neptunes-things]

I wish I was here

Hi guys!

This is a new Luna's story. I got the idea during the awards evening by seeing the different comments under the photos posted by the official accounts. It tires me to see people shouting at the separation as soon as Lucy is less than a meter from Keira so I dare not imagine what can think Lucy and Ona x)

Also I don't know if Coco is a boy or a girl, sorry if I misgender this poor dog?

Enjoy!

TW : Angst

______________________________________________________________

Staying in Barcelona while her girlfriend participates in one of the most prestigious ceremonies for women’s football is no doubt a bit frustrating, but Ona try to look not upset when it was time to say goodbye to Lucy before she leaves for the airport. With their relationship still not officially confirmed by anyone, it was in Lucy’s apartment that the two young women said goodbye. As Keira is also on the trip, Ona must guard Narla, the dog that Keira and Lucy took together, in addition to her own dog Coco. Fortunately, the two dogs get along wonderfully and had the time of their lives during their trip to Andorra.

After getting the two dogs out, Ona returned to Lucy’s apartment. Coco having already come several times in Lucy's apartment, he knows it better than what Narla knows Ona's. And even if Ona also knows this apartment very well, she can’t help but feel a little alone tonight. Without the presence of her girlfriend, everything seems a little more sad and less interesting.

Sitting on the sofa much too big, even for a person accompanied by two dogs, Ona turns on the television and takes her phone to scroll on the various social networks. She responds to some messages and takes the opportunity to order food. If she likes to cook for or with Lucy, when she’s alone it’s a little different. But her diet is supposed to stay wise and followed, so she opts for sushi.

A few minutes later, her face glows with a big smile when she sees Lucy’s picture on her phone screen. The fullback asks her for a FaceTime and Ona doesn't hesitate a fraction of seconds before answering. Lucy’s face appears, already ready for the ceremony.

"Holà bonita!" says the happy English.

"Hello. How’s it going?" asks Ona while sitting cross-legged on the couch.

"Good! I’m a little late to be honest but I wanted to show you my outfit before you see it on social networks"

"Oh, a sneak peak just for me? I appreciate it" smiled Ona.

Lucy smirk at her answer and backs up the screen so that the youngest can see her entire outfit. And Ona feels her jaw fall. Of course, she’s the first to know how stunning her girlfriend is. But she honestly didn’t expect that.

"Oh fuck me" whispers Ona, her eyes sweeping Lucy’s outfit and body.

"Do you like it?" smiled Lucy as she carried the phone up her face, so that she could look at Ona.

"When are you coming home again?" asks Ona, the mind a little elsewhere.

"During the night" Lucy chuckles as she rolls her eyes, then turns around. "By the way, my parents and brother are here."

Lucy’s laughter extends to seeing that Ona blushed violently when hearing that her in-laws and her brother-in-law are also present. Had she known, perhaps she would have chosen other words to express her admiration.

"Hello Ona!" made Jorge with an amused smile, sticking his head to his sister to appear on the screen.

Despite her embarrassment, Ona managed to exchange a few words with Jorge and her in-laws, before the Bronze had to hang up to get to the party. If a smile remains on Ona’s face after the call, it fades little by little by seeing the different comments on the videos and photos circulating on the evening. Again, Lucy’s name is attached to Keira's, despite the many clues that the four (with Laura) left on social networks.

Seeing the hate that Laura received during her last post of the year, Keira even had to delete the comments section. This is largely what caused Lucy to post nothing at all on her side. But reading comments certifying that the former couple formed by Lucy and Keira is still current is harder to bear tonight. Probably because Lucy’s not with her.

Ona has never complained about this to Lucy, the Spanish knows perfectly well that her girlfriend has nothing to do with it and that she is far from asking for this situation. Ona also knows that this situation is burdensome for everyone and doesn't want to add difficulties by taking things too seriously.

Aitana being also at the party, Ona finally decides to call Salma to change her mind. The young attacker is also a close friend of Ona, despite their age difference. If Salma realizes that Ona doesn't seem particularly on a great mood, she doesn't make comments and is content to talk to her constantly, about everything and nothing. And Ona is extremely grateful.

After the phone call and her sushis, Ona takes the dogs out one last time before going to the bathroom to change. She follows the ceremony with her phone and if she realized that Lucy tried not to position herself next to Keira for the official photos, they were sitted next to eachother. That, too, should not bother her. But in truth, the Catalan would have liked to be able to accompany Lucy. Even if she is far from comfortable in this kind of ceremony, to which she has never been invited. (We will talk about the fact that Ona is cruelly underrated by everyone another time)

After a quick shower and brushing her teeth, Ona returns to the couch to launch Netflix. She sent two messages to Lucy to inform her of the progress of her evening and a photo of Narla and Coco sleeping on top of each other, but nothing more, not wanting to look too needy either.

It's late when Lucy calls Ona, but she doesn't sleep yet, waiting for news of her girlfriend.

"I wondered if you would answer" state Lucy.

"Why wouldn’t I?" Ona asks, frowning. "It’s late, I thought you might sleep" "I wanted to hear your voice" Ona confesses in a timid tone. Lucy thinks that it probably shouldn’t make her so happy, but it does. The rest of the conversation goes through Lucy who explains that they are already on their way to the airport and back to Barcelona. With Fifa having awarded them a private jet, they will be in Barcelona in a few hours and at home just as quickly. But as the conversation progresses, Lucy realizes that something is off with the Catalan. Her answers are brief, her tone evasive and she has a hard time giving her some laughs. "What’s going on, Bonita?" ended up asking Lucy "Nothing... I’m just tired" mumbles Ona, her fingers playing with her dog’s hair. "Are you sure?" "Mhm" replies distractedly the brunette "That’s not how I feel" Lucy distinctly hears Ona sigh softly, making her frown. Ona doesn't hesitate to talk to her about what she usually feels, both having discussed at the beginning of their relationship about the importance of communication in a couple. "It’s nothing Luce, it’s really stupid" "If it bothers you, it’s not stupid Onita" Lucy points out. Despite the fact that the discussion between the two young women isn't made out loud, Lucy is in the car with Aitana, Keira and Cata. It's therefore almost impossible that they don't hear it, despite the fact that they are all three discussing together. But Lucy’s worry drives her to keep trying to find out more. "There are comments that I saw on social media that bothered me a little, that’s all" ended up answering Ona. "Comments about what?" Lucy already knows the answer, but she nevertheless prefers to ask the question rather than assume things.

"You. And Keira. Your relationship, all that. There are those who say that if you were sitting next to Keira it’s because you’re together and if you stood away from her in the photos it’s to not attract attention. Those kind of things."

Lucy remains silent for a few moments, not really knowing what to answer. What she does know, however, is that she doesn't particularly like the turn this discussion is taking.

"Maybe you were right after all, it’s a bit stupid"

Lucy’s answer may be a little too abrupt, drawing Aitana’s curious gaze on her at the same time. Ona, meanwhile, answers nothing.

"You know very well that it's not true, Ona. I thought you were a little more mature and able to ignore these comments"

"I’m sorry" mumbles the Spanish woman rubbing her forehead, thinking that she shouldn't have talked about it and kept these confessions to herself.

A new silence is born between the two young women, however very different from those, comfortable, that they share while cuddling in front of the television or when they are in the car for the training.

"We are at the airport. I’ll write you when we take off" Lucy says.

"Ok. Have a safe flight" mumbles Ona, before hanging up.

Lucy remains silent after the phone call, not realizing that her three teammates exchange looks and communicate in this way. Unlike their arrival, their return isn't filmed and the different photographers or representatives aren't with them. There are only a few security guards in the van, but they are installed in front of and behind them. Jona and others members from the staff are in their own conversation behind them.

The Englishwoman still hasn’t said a word when she settles in the jet, with Aitana sitting beside her, Keira and Cata facing them.

"Everything's okay?" ended up asking Aitana.

"Yeah" Lucy groans as she looks out the window.

Deciding not to beat around the bush and waste their time in this conversation, Aitana decides to go straight to the point.

"I heard your conversation with Ona" begins the Ballon d'Or winner, attracting a new grunt from Lucy. "Did you argue?"

"Not really" ended up sighing Lucy leaving the window with her eyes to shift her attention to Aitana. "She mentioned comments from stupid fans"

When Aitana nods and the other two remain silent, it catches Lucy’s attention again. If she looks at the other two with a suspicious look, it's to Aitana that Lucy talks when she resumes speaking.

"What? Did she talk to you about it?"

"No" sincerely answers Aitana shaking her head. "But I know if she told you about it, it’s because it’s been working on her for a while, Lucy. I’ve known this girl since we started kicking a ball. She’s neither jealous nor possessive. If she told you, it must have been really hard for her at the time."

"You know how she is" adds Cata, sitting in front of Aitana. "She’s the kind of person who wants to deal with things on her own. She even tried to end a match with a concussion a few years ago."

Lucy makes a grimace, remembering the reflections she saw at the time. This dates back to a few years ago, when Ona played with Manchester United.

"I know" Lucy replies, not necessarily a fan of friends knowing more about her girlfriend than she does. "It’s just frustrating. These people don’t stop with these comments and I don’t know what to do to do well. If you post, there are hate comments. If you don’t post either."

With a compassionate smile, Aitana gently taps her on the knee, secretly happy not to be in this kind of situation.

"Weren’t you supposed to send her a message?" asks Cata

"Shit"

Lucy quickly grabs her phone to unlock it and write to Ona, while the flight crew seems to make the final preparations. The plane is already launched on the runway when she finishes.

"You know" said Keira after they took off "I don’t know if I could handle that, if I were in Ona’s place."

Interrupted again in her thoughts, Lucy reports a surprised look on her ex-girlfriend.

"What do you mean?"

"Every day she sees her girlfriend, you, talking to her ex, me. She herself has to bond with this ex, always me, and she does it very well. She has truly never been anything but adorable to me. She sees us talking everyday, because we still friends. And she must be constantly subjected to the headless theories of people who continue to hope for some reason that you and I are still together."

Lucy remains silent for a few seconds. She is obviously clear with all of this, but hearing it out loud and added side by side is different. Her eyebrows are frowned when Aitana speaks one last time.

"Would you see yourself playing on the same team as her ex? Watching her chat and laugh with Ona almost every day?"

"No" Lucy immediately says.

"You half murdered Feli when we played her and her team, and your relationship with Ona wasn’t even a few months old yet" smile Cata.

Lucy rolls with her eyes as she hears Cata’s amused tone, but her gaze shifts to the window once again. Cata is right, all she was able to think at this time is that Feli had Ona at one point in their life. Before her eyes there is only dark, the lights of London having disappeared long ago. She doesn't need more to realize that the other three are right and an intense sense of guilt seizes her. She should never have spoken to Ona the way she did. And her throat gets a little knotted thinking of the Catalan, alone in her apartment.

A few hours later, Lucy delicately opens the door of her apartment. Ona responded to her message saying that they were taking off, but didn't respond when she told her that they had landed. Lucy’s rational side makes her say that the Catalan is just asleep, but her brain hasn’t stopped working for three seconds since her conversation with her teammates and she can’t help but wonder if Ona is just mad at her.

After dropping off her things at the entrance, Lucy goes into the living room and feels her heart melt in front of the scene that takes place in front of her. Ona is lying on her tummy under a blanket on the couch, deeply asleep. Her long hair obscures part of her face and a very slight snoring escapes from her lips with each breath. Her face is illuminated by the lights of the television screen. Coco is tightly hugged, Ona’s face buried in the dog’s hair. Narla is lying on Ona’s legs.

Lucy laughs softly when she sees that new stones are on the coffee table, adding to the great collection of her dog. The sound wakes up Narla who stretches on Ona’s legs before rolling and changing sides to fall asleep again. The movement makes Ona moan gently in her sleep and pushes her to bury her face even more in Coco’s hair.

Delicately freeing Coco from Ona’s embrace, Lucy rests him on the couch alongside Narla before passing her two arms under Ona’s body to lift her from the couch.

"What’s going on?" mumbles the Spanish in a sleepy voice when Lucy puts her on her bed.

"Nothing Princesa, everything's fine" Lucy replies in return, kissing her forehead before gently covering her.

But when Lucy gets up to go to the bathroom, Ona gently grabs her arm.

"Can I have a hug please?"

Sleepy or tired Ona is particularly cuddly, which Lucy has always found adorable. But tonight, the English girl has the impression that there is a little more than that. The guilt at the memory of the tone she talked to her coming back in her mind, she hurries to lie beside Ona and wrap her arms around her.

She lays kisses on the head and the sleeping face of Ona, who smiles softly at this surge of affection. Ona closes her eyes and start to fall asleep again.

"I am so sorry" whispers Lucy, her lips pressed against Ona's temple after having observed the young woman for a long time.

Surprised in her phase of falling asleep, Ona opens her eyes again and slightly turns her head in Lucy's direction to observe her. She doesn't move an inch, keeping her face as close as possible to Ona’s.

"What are you talking about?"

A slight worry is audible in Ona’s tone and Lucy prefers not to wonder where the younger’s mind is running away. Instead, she responds directly, the things she wishes to tell her prepared for tens of minutes in her head.

"About what I told you on the phone and especially the way I told you"

"Oh" just mumbles Ona before shrugging her shoulders "It doesn’t matter. You’re right anyway"

"No Ona, I’m serious"

Lucy takes off from the Latin, causing her to pout and frown. Passing a finger between her eyebrows, Lucy applies herself to relax her skin before resuming speech.

"I shouldn’t have said that"

"It doesn’t matter, Luce, I swear-"

But Lucy interrupts her, putting a finger on her lips. Ona rolls on her back, still frowning.

"Let me speak" says the English woman "I should never have said that to you and told you like that. You have the right to have insecurities and even more need to talk about them. And if you need to talk about it, I want you to do it with me because I want to be there for you. I’m sorry I was so hard to you when you brought it up"

Still driven to silence by Lucy’s index finger on her lips, Ona listens wisely to what her girlfriend is saying to her. Yes, the dry tone that Lucy replied to her briefly squeezed her heart, before she tried to become rational again. Ona thought Lucy might be tired from her evening.

"I’m annoyed by these kinds of comments, and I think I reacted that way because I liked the idea that it doesn’t affect you. You’re important to me, Ona, you’re the most important. And I hate the idea that someone or something might hurt you."

Ona remains silent, always, eyes plunged into those of Lucy. She still remembers perfectly the first time their looks crossed, at the wedding of their common friend.

"But I thought a lot about what Keira and the girls told me on the way back and…"

"You talked about our relationship with Keira?"

The emotions on Ona’s face are hard to decipher, but the fact that she reacts about that before everything else catches Lucy’s attention.

"They more or less heard the conversation we had, I was in the car with them"

Ona groan softly, not really appreciating the idea that their couple problems can be discussed among other people. Even though she knows she can trust their discretion at least from Cata and Aitana. She wouldn't say that she's close to Keira, but she gets along well with her and has always managed to talk to her without any prejudice.

"The three of them defended you" Lucy quickly informs her, pressing her head on her hand, now that she is on her side while Ona is lying on her back. "And they were right. You seem to be living through this situation so well that I sometimes forget that it must not be easy every day for you. If there was one stupid thing tonight it was my behavior."

Rolling on her side, Ona thoughtfully bites her lip before answering her.

"I just want everything to be as easy as possible for everyone."

"I understand. But you must not forget yourself in the process"

Ona makes a famous pout of her composition for simple answer. And Lucy knows perfectly well what the brunette who faces her thinks. Sighing softly, she begins to draw the freckles on Ona’s face with her finger.

"This tendency to sacrifice yourself for others can be worrying, you know?"

"Only for those who deserve it" Ona replies, closing her eyes under Lucy’s caresses on her face. "The ones I love"

Her closed eyes prevent her from seeing Lucy break the existing centimeters between their faces to put her lips on hers, but this doesn't prevent her from smiling against her lips. A sigh of well-being escapes her and her hands attach to the fabric of the clothes that Lucy still wears, the same ones she wore for the ceremony.

"You’re the strongest person I know" Lucy whispers a few minutes later, her forehead leaning against her girlfriend’s.

"Let’s not exaggerate" laughs Ona gently, mixing her legs with Lucy’s.

"I’m serious. Do you know many people who would play on the same team as their girlfriend and ex at the same time? I wouldn’t be able to."

Surprised by this statement, the question can now be read in the chocolate eyes of Ona.

"If you kept talking to your ex, I’d have a hard time, but just imagine that you have to live next to her and talk to her every day… I think I would want to kill her, honestly."

"Are you jealous, Lucy Bronze?"

The surprise gradually gave way to the fun on Ona’s face and voice. This makes Lucy roll her eyes, even if she cannot retain a smile.

"Maybe" simply answers the English.

This seems to suit Ona, since she gets even closer to Lucy, sticking her entire body against the English’s. A silence passes, during which Ona takes the opportunity to soak up the smell and sensation of Lucy’s skin against hers.

"It’s easy because I trust you" Ona says. "You make me feel safe and cared. Tonight was a little more difficult because you were far from me. And I wish I had been with you"

"I wish you was here too" mumble Lucy before adding "At least you can admire me in my outfit anyway"

Ona laughs softly, running her hands over the fabric, soft and light under her fingers. She would have liked to see her put on these clothes, but to have her lying in front of her is not so bad.

"It’s even better in real life"

Lucy smiles again before pressing her lips against Ona's, holding her against her during the kiss that extends a little. Then, she gets up from the bed, causing the surprise of the youngest.

"Where are you going?" Ona asks while sitting on the bed.

"Undress and shower. Want to come help me?"

"We’re supposed to get up in four hours for training" Ona replies, looking at the time on her phone

"Your choice"

Shrugging, Lucy turns her heels to go to the bathroom. It doesn't take more to Ona to throw herself out of bed and almost run after her girlfriend.

"Coming!"

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter XX.

GIF by bestintheparsec

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: The night of the ritual.

WORD COUNT: ~9.1k

RATING: 18+ Explicit topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: dead dove: do not eat!, kidnapping, mc is held hostage, allusions to SA (nothing explicit. will be explained later on), hallucinations, humiliation, wound care, hurt/no comfort, crime thriller vibes are vibing, demon worship, cult ritual, supernatural elements, non-consensual drug use, angst, whump, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i'm missing any other tags please let me know.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized.

A/N: i’m going to hold y’all’s hand when i say this... i am putting paloma through it 😓 i was initially going to just bang everything out and post it in one big chapter, but as i was writing... i just felt like it would be better if we let the suspense of it all do its thing and end with a cliffhanger. i am a sucker for ‘em, even if they’re so frustrating (in the best way possible) 😭 i hope that all the lore revolving the cult has been concise and strong enough to hold up during the ending bit of this. i wish i could say things are going to get better from here but they’re not… they’re actually going to get worse 🤠 as always, feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or on ao3. i'd really appreciate it 🖤

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When ten minutes pass, Javier brushes it off. She’s probably just caught up in something. It’s nothing to worry about.

But when twenty minutes roll by, that’s when the unease creeps in. He starts pacing the living room, fighting the urge for a cigarette, glancing at the clock.

Where is she?

By the time half an hour has come and gone, he’s dialing the library, wondering why Paloma hasn’t come home yet. The phone rings and rings, but no one picks up. His stomach tightens, and he wills himself to remain calm. She’s probably fine.

At the hour mark, Javier’s behind the wheel, speeding into town. Maybe she’s still upset from the argument they had earlier, and instead of coming home, she went to Tammy’s.

But when Tammy tells him she hasn’t heard from Paloma for a few days now, a knot twists in his chest.

Panic threatens to take hold, but he pushes it down. He can’t let it consume him—not yet. Not until he has a real reason to worry.

But she has that damn habit of disappearing to sulk in random places when she’s upset. And that habit is gnawing at him now.

He drives to every spot he can think of, the abandoned tracks, the clearing behind the cemetery, the creek—but there’s no sign of her.

That terrible feeling grows, heavy and unshakable. He marches into the sheriff’s department, jaw set, not caring who sees the frantic look in his eyes.

He storms the file room, ripping through boxes. His hands tremble as he plucks out the file he’s searching for.

“Fuck!” He curses under his breath, jaw tightening as the photo of Paloma’s mother stares back at him.

Now, he has a reason to panic.

He should have known when he first laid eyes on it. The familiarity of her features—her eyes, her hair, her smile; it was all too close to Paloma. Too close to ignore. But he had, all because his mind was completely elsewhere at the time. Now look where that got him.

It’s like a scene from a horror film, where everything snaps into place too late.

The recent victims; brunettes in their mid-twenties with similar features, similar backgrounds—they resembled her.

The staged chamber, the gore, the man who killed himself.

All of it was leading to this, tying up the gruesome mystery with a neat little bow, like a gift Javier wishes he could burn. They had been played—manipulated, distracted from seeing the bigger picture.

Whoever orchestrated this whole thing has been after his girl from the very beginning.

He fights the urge to smash his fist into the nearest wall, to tear down every shelf in the room in a fit of blind rage.

But what would that solve? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Rage won’t lead him to her. Fear won’t undo what’s already been set in motion. All he can do is cling to hope, even if it’s slipping through his fingers.

The ultimate goal of this fucked-up cult—their twisted mission—is to birth the flesh reincarnate of their so-called, bullshit deity.

His blood runs cold at the thought of Paloma being used in some horrific ritual, being touched, violated, forced into madness.

He’s shaking, on the verge of a panic attack, his heart slamming against his ribcage like it’s trying to escape. But he forces himself to breathe—slow, deep, steady breaths, locking the perturbation away. 

Javier puts out an APB, his voice tight as he details her car, her appearance. Every word feels surreal, like it’s not really him saying it, like he’s watching someone else’s nightmare play out.

Romeo’s going to hear this, and he’s going to have to explain how they missed all the signs, how Paloma has been in danger this whole time.

The weight of it presses down on him like a thousand pounds of guilt.

Gathering what he needs and delegating some of the overnight officers at the station, he frantically drives to the Leighton house.

He’s already chain-smoked half a pack. That nasty habit he’s been trying to shake is clinging to him. The file in his hands feels too light for the bomb he’s about to drop.

How the fuck is he supposed to do this? How do you tell someone their wife’s past is tangled in a nightmare, and that their daughter—a woman they both love—is at the heart of it? How do you stay composed when you’re barely holding yourself together?

“Where the fuck is my daughter?”

Javier’s barely set foot out of his truck when Romeo’s fists twist in his shirt, shoving him hard against the vehicle.

The impact rattles through him, but all he can see is the wild, desperate look in the sheriff’s eyes—a terror that matches his own but runs even deeper, cutting into every line on his face.

“Romeo, listen to me!” Javier’s voice is authoritative, that familiar guarded wall of stoicism building as his trademark defense mechanism to the absolute anxiety that’s gnawing away at his body. “This is gonna be hard to hear—I’m barely making sense of it myself—but I need you to listen if we’re going to figure this shit out.”

Romeo’s grip tightens, then slowly loosens, and Javier seizes the moment, shoving the older man back, no longer giving a fuck about keeping the peace.

He yanks the folded photo from his jacket pocket and holds it up, letting him get a clear look. “Tell me. Is this Paloma’s mother?”

Romeo’s gaze flits to the photograph, and the recognition that floods his face is immediate.

His fingers snatch the photo from Javier, and his expression cracks, aging him in just a matter of seconds. “Where did you get this?” His voice is barely a whisper, “What the fuck is going on?”

Javier’s own dread deepens. “From the old files,” he says, voice hollow. “The ones from the original group. She’s connected to all of this. They both are.”

He takes a breath, then begins to explain everything he knows. He lays it out, bit by bit—the tangled web of what Paloma had uncovered, the twisted threads that pointed to this cult, the fake leads that had kept them chasing shadows. Every word feels like glass in his throat.

Confusion, fear, anger—every emotion etched on Romeo’s face makes Javier feel like he’s the one who has failed. 

“Did you know about any of this?” he asks, though he already knows the answer from the lost look in Romeo’s eyes.

His mouth opens, then closes. He seems to gather himself, shoulders dropping under a weight he’s only just begun to grasp. “None. When I met Abby… she was just a woman startin’ over. She’d moved into a small house near the church. Said her parents had passed and she needed a fresh start. Picked a random town—that’s how she ended up here.” The sheriff’s gaze drifts to a place Javier can’t reach, caught in the bittersweet memory of his late wife. 

“Paloma said she found this out by going through her mom’s things,” he says carefully, each word a stone dropping into his gut. “But I don’t think she was telling me everything.”

Silence stretches between them, heavy and loaded as they lock eyes in an unspoken understanding.

They need answers, and every second they waste is another second Paloma could be slipping further away.

“Before we make accusations,” Javier says, forcing himself to stay grounded, “we need to dig through their belongings. There has to be something there—a lead, a hint—something that’ll tell us who’s behind this.”

“But you already know who it is, don’t you?”

Javier’s eyes darken, and his jaw locks as one name barrels into his mind, clear and hateful: August.

The red flags he had dismissed, convinced they were just a byproduct of his hate for the guy, now stand out like beacons.

He meets Romeo’s gaze, a grim certainty settling into his features. “I believe it’s Augustus Dixon and his group.”

Romeo’s face twists with anger, and he grits out, “Motherfucker—” His fists clench, his whole body radiating fury.

“Be pissed off later. We’ve got a job to do.”

They stalk up the stairs, both men moving with purpose—Romeo heads for his wife’s things while Javier makes his way into Paloma’s room.

It feels surreal, even wrong, to be rummaging through her life like this. The last time he’d been in this position, it was in Jessica’s room, and even then he could see the resemblance her space shared with Paloma’s—but he’d never thought he’d be here, seeing his girl as a victim.

His fingers skim over a leather-bound book tucked away on the top shelf in her closet, hidden behind a jewelry box. It’s as if she’d placed it there purposefully, stowed away out of reach.

When he pulls it down, he realizes it’s a scrapbook brimming with photographs and clippings.

Inside, he finds images of Calmana, surrounded by groups of men and women, all dressed in matching, traditional attire. A towering cathedral looms in the background, religious iconography scattered throughout—symbols he now recognizes from his research.

Maps, faded with time, span several pages, and in the center lies an intricate, sprawling family tree with Paloma’s name written at the bottom.

He spots envelopes tucked between the pages, each one addressed to her in cursive hand.

He calls out for Romeo, and the sheriff is by his side almost instantly, his expression a twisted mix of hope and dread.

“What’d you find?” 

Javier silently hands him the scrapbook, keeping the envelopes for himself. 

One by one, he opens them, unfolding each paper. His breaths come out ragged, and he feels his stomach drop as he reads.

They’re love poems—explicit, filthy in their adoration. Line after line, they detail all the things August wants to do to her, each word penned with obsession.

The praises he lavishes on her, how he calls her a spectacle, the power he insists she wields—it’s like poison seeping into Javier’s mind. 

His hands start trembling, and the implications tighten around him like a noose.

Romeo, sensing his agitation, reaches out, his voice rough. “What’s that—what did you find?” 

Javier jerks the papers away, swallowing hard. “Trust me. You don’t want to see these—not now.”

“Let me see them, Javier! Goddammit, my daughter is in danger!”

Before their back-and-forth can spiral any further, Javier’s walkie talkie crackles sharply, an officer’s voice coming through:

“A dark green, 1970 Buick Electra matching the APB put out an hour ago has been found in Lake Fraiser alongside an unidentified female body.”

The air thickens and shatters as Javier and Romeo lock eyes, both of them wearing the same look of wide-eyed horror. 

“Romeo—” Javier tries, reaching out, but the man is already out the door, the scrapbook falling from his hands and hitting the hardwood floor with a hollow thud that reverberates in Javier’s chest.

He mutters a quick fuck and scoops it up, rushing after him, yet the sheriff is a blur, tearing down the driveway with the kind of desperation only a father can muster when everything he loves is on the line.

Now that he’s left alone, Javier grips the railing, and the weight of it all—of losing her—comes crashing down. His heart’s splintering, his chest tight, mind skidding out of control.

This is what he’s been running from all along—failure… loss… grief. Now it is all coming back, circling like vultures, ready to take the one thing that’s ever brought him true happiness.

But he forces himself to breathe, to anchor his mind to the one cold comfort he has left. “He wouldn’t kill her. He needs her.” The words taste bitter, chilling him, but they hold him steady.

Paloma is at the center of this plan—there’d be no sense in taking her, just to end it so abruptly.

Despite everything, he finds a sliver of reassurance in that cruel logic. He clings to it with everything he has, because right now, it’s the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

Javier pulls up to Lake Fraiser, where the scene is a flurry of first responders, flashing lights reflecting off the water’s dark surface in sharp reds and blues.

He parks haphazardly, barely cutting the engine before he’s out of the truck, heading straight toward the area cordoned off by yellow crime scene tape.

His heart slams against his ribs as he spots Romeo, kneeling by the edge of the lake beside a body draped in a white cloth, his face blank, almost empty.

Javier’s eyes dart to the surrounding officers, scanning each one, trying to get a read on the situation before he speaks.

“Is it her?” His voice breaks the stillness.

Romeo doesn’t look up, his gaze locked on the covered body. “…No.”

Relief floods through him, dizzying him for a moment before his gaze lands on a tow truck pulling Paloma’s car away from the scene. 

He clenches his jaw, forcing himself to swallow back the bitter uncertainty rising in his throat.

Romeo stands slowly, brushing the dirt off his hands, his expression hardening as he relays, “Just got a call from the hospital. Our girl from the woods finally woke up. Tonight of all nights.” He chuckles dryly. “Asked to speak with me specifically. So I’ll head that way tomorrow after she’s been stabilized properly… which means you’ll be in charge of all this.” He gestures around them vaguely.

The pulsing emergency lights cast fractured shadows over their faces.

“It’s best for you to step back momentarily. Clear your head. You’re too close to this,” Javier adds quietly, “She’s your daughter.” And while Javier is her lover and every inch of him is fraying at the edges for her, he understands that his pain won’t amount to the agony that Romeo is drowning in.

The sheriff’s silence stretches, words hesitating on his tongue, until finally, with a quiet confession, he murmurs, “I was too harsh on her. On you. I was an asshole, and if it’s any reconciliation—thank you for tryin’ to get her out of this shitty town.”

Javier’s caught off-guard but doesn’t show it, the self awareness on his behalf is appreciated. “I’d do anything for her.”

Romeo studies him for a moment, as if measuring the resolve behind his words, then he nods, his expression taut, “Gonna start combing through everythin’ back at the station. Probably call Olsen, see if he’s got any cameras ‘round the library so we can get a timeline goin’.”

These two men are similar in that regard, backing themselves into their jobs to mask the turmoil inside. They talk through some of the procedures before Romeo is pulled away by other officers, leaving Javier to handle things here.

He forces himself to switch gears, to summon every bit of authority he has left to do his job. He’s got a dead body to assess, a team to command, and then—then he’ll focus everything he’s got on finding Paloma.

Paloma stirs awake, the pitch darkness of the early morning pressing in from all sides.

She’s disoriented—a dull ache in her head and the sting of thick, abrasive rope biting into her wrists.

Her hands are suspended and bound above her, tethered tightly to an old, rusted pipe overhead, which creaks slightly as she shifts her weight.

She can feel the grit of dried blood matting her hair against her temple, the aftershock of Sloane’s vicious hit with the bat ringing sharp behind her eyes. Her boots are missing, leaving her barefoot against the cool concrete ground.

As reality sharpens around her, she realizes this isn’t a dream and it nauseates her, instilling panic in her heart.

She barely remembers the car ride or the way they dragged her down here, everything muddled from the hit she’d taken until she’d finally succumbed to unconsciousness.

Now, the throbbing intensifies as she tugs instinctively at the ropes, her wrists burning, but no amount of pulling loosens her bonds.

Frustration and terror mix, unwieldy coiling in her chest and tears sting at her eyes despite her attempts to fight them back. She doesn’t want to imagine what they plan to do to her.

She knows Javier and her father have to be looking for her. They must be tearing themselves apart with worry. She can almost hear her father’s harsh reprimands and Javier’s quiet, determined rage—they’re relentless when it comes to protecting her. 

They’ll find her. They have to.

The cellar door creaks open and she freezes, her pulse skittering as August, Sloane, and Gabriel descend the stairs.

The dim light barely touches their faces, but she doesn’t need to see them clearly to know what they’re capable of.

She tries to hold her head high, pushing back the tears, refusing to let them see the fear that’s boiling inside. She won’t give them that satisfaction, not if she can help it.

Their footsteps echo against the walls of the basement. August stops just close enough that she can feel his presence invading her senses, suffocating, his familiar smirk tugging at his lips.

“Good morning, P,” he drawls, voice dripping with the charm that managed to slither its way into her heart.

What she once found magnetic in him is now hollow, a mask that hides something so unfathomable. 

“Pretty nasty cut ya got there.” Sloane’s voice drips with fake sympathy. Her eyes glint with that special brand of cruelty she’d always kept hidden behind a guise of friendship.

The satisfaction in her tone is unmistakable, like she’s savoring every moment of seeing Paloma in such a vulnerable state.

The urge to spit in their faces, to lash out, is almost unbearable, but she remembers her daddy’s lessons, advising her to stay calm, to never let them know how afraid she really is.

Every word of advice he’d ever given her about self-preservation hangs heavy in her mind. 

She keeps her face blank, her mouth a hard line.

“Silent treatment, huh?” August steps closer, his hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. His fingers are inches from her forehead when she sees the sick satisfaction in his eyes, and she can’t suppress the involuntary grimace as his fingers hover over the gash near her forehead.

The moment of weakness feels like a win for him, his smile widening as he grazes her wound, pressing just enough to send a wave of pain radiating through her skull and a fresh stream of blood to trickle out.

Sloane watches her reaction, faux innocence weaving through her sneer. “You make for a pretty damn good damsel in distress. Thought you’d put up more of a fight, if I’m bein’ honest. You really disappointed me, doll face.”

Paloma’s grip tightens around the rope until her knuckles ache. She wants to tell her off, to fight and scream—but instead she just turns away, refusing to even look at them.

August’s hand cups her chin as he forces her to meet his eyes, eyes that once held promises of affection and loyalty now filled with something so dark and consuming.

His fingers dig into her soft skin. “I need you to look perfect, little dove. All stitched up and pretty.” His thumb trails along her chapped bottom lip. “Gabriel,” he calls, not even glancing back at the other man, “Tend to that. Tonight’s a big night, after all. Lots to prepare for.”

There goes that trepidation again. Her mouth twitches, half-ready to break her silence and demand to know just what the hell he’s talking about. But she’s already committed to keeping quiet.

Gabriel lingers behind them, shifting uncomfortably, the first aid kit clutched tight in his hand.

He doesn’t say anything, just stands there as usual, eyes flicking from Paloma to his partners, some part of him clearly unsettled yet too cowardly to intervene.

He’s her best shot of getting out of here, she just knows it.

“‘S’okay, you ain’t gotta talk,” August’s coos. “I actually prefer you like this—makes things a hell of a lot easier. The others…” He snorts, shaking his head.

How many other unfortunate women had been dragged down here, suffering at his hands?

“Too squirmy, too squeamish—like fuckin’ pigs.” His laughter is mirthless and Sloane joins in with loud, exaggerated snorts that mimic a pig’s squeal. The sound claws at Paloma’s ears.

There’s this twisted admiration in his stare as he studies her. “That’s why I knew I needed to have you. No one else on this planet holds a candle to the magic you have, Paloma. You should stop bein’ so scared and embrace it.” He murmurs, dropping his voice to a whisper.

His hand snakes down from her jaw, tracing her neck, lingering in an unsettling crawl between her breasts before settling at her hip.

His fingers dig in, and she flinches, her body stiffening in revulsion. He smirks at her reaction, savoring her discomfort like a fine wine.

“I’ll be back to check on you later, alright?” His tone is falsely tender. "Gotta make sure everythin’ is perfect. Can’t afford any fuck ups now—I’ve been way too patient for this."

He steps back at last, allowing Gabriel to shuffle forward with the kit in hand.

With a jerk of his chin, August motions for Sloane to follow him. She blows Paloma a mocking kiss and winks with a saccharine sweetness that really piles on the hatred that burns a little hotter for her specifically.

The heavy cellar door slams shut, casting them back into dim silence as the first pale light of dawn begins to creep through the basement windows.

Paloma’s heart pounds as their shadows disappear, leaving her helpless in the creeping morning light.

“What are you goin’ to do to me?” Her voice is hoarse, each word scraping her dry throat like sandpaper, but she can’t keep quiet now that they’re alone.

Gabriel wordlessly drags over a stool, placing the first-aid kit on top. He opens it, sorting through supplies as though she isn’t even there.

Paloma yanks at her restraints, the old pipe groaning in protest. “Fuckin’ say somethin’,” she snaps, anger edging her desperation. “It’s the least you could do—just… tell me.” She hates the pleading tone that slips through, the last thread of her control unraveling as she imagines what fate awaits her.

His gloved hands move to clean her wound, and she clenches her jaw against the sting, glaring at him as if she could force him to talk through sheer will. He’s careful and practiced, clearly having done this before.

“The Crimson Rite,” he mutters, brows furrowing as he concentrates, his voice a barely audible murmur. “It’s where the conception will happen… on the altar of incarnation.”

Paloma’s heart stumbles, her mind racing to piece together the fragments. “What the fuck are you even sayin’?” Her voice wavers, but there’s no denying the chill in her spine.

She knows what those words mean on their own, but together, they paint a picture she’d rather not face—the harrowing reality of how August truly plans on using her.

“August’ll explain,” he replies, brushing her off with the indifference of a man following orders. “He’s better at that shit than I am. I just do what he asks and stay outta the way.”

“Like a fuckin’ coward,” she spits.

The needle pauses, its sharp tip hovering an inch from her skin, and he raises his eyes. “You get all lippy with me, but keep your mouth shut around them? What, I ain’t intimidatin’ enough for you?” 

She holds his gaze, defiance simmering behind the exhaustion in her stare. “Nothing about you’s intimidatin’ enough to keep me from tellin’ you exactly what I think.”

His lips twist downward, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he resumes stitching, each tug at her skin rougher than the last. 

“At church that day, you were warnin’ me, weren’t you?” Her voice is barely a whisper, the memory of that awkward conversation rattling in her mind. “S’not too late, Gabe. You can still help me outta this… We both can be outta here ‘fore the sun comes up.”

There’s a lapse, just for a second, in his eyes—something she wants to believe is regret, a part of him she hopes she can reach.

The sliver of optimism she’s mustered might awaken that dormant part of him buried under layers of August’s bullshit and the bitterness life has forced him to swallow.

But he shakes his head slowly, avoiding her gaze as he finishes stitching her wound, his hands deft. “You don’t get it. Don’t matter if I do the right thing. He’d find us—he always does.” He sprays her wound with a numbing mist then covers it with a small gauze.

“He wouldn’t find us,” she insists, her voice fraying. “Daddy would protect us. He’d make sure we’re safe.”

He lets out a low, humorless chuckle. “Yeah? He promise you that or somethin’? ‘Cause from where I’m standin’, you don’t look all that safe.”

A bitter, frustrated cry escapes her as he begins to pack up his kit, her pleas bouncing off him like stones against steel.

“Please, Gabe, don’t leave me down here alone,” she chokes out, and the words twist something deep inside her, pulling her further into a desperation she’s been trying to keep at bay.

“Breakfast’ll be down in a few hours,” he mutters, almost as if talking to himself, keeping his voice low and detached. “Probably get you a shower at sundown so you ain’t all sweaty and grimy. Needs you all fuckin’ pristine.” The last words slip out like a hiss, a disgusted edge in his tone. “S’gonna be a long day for you down here. Scream all you want; ain’t nobody around worth a damn to hear it. You got a better shot at rubbin’ the skin off your wrists than gettin’ out of that rope.”

Paloma snaps, her control breaking in a flood of panic and fury as she yanks at her restraint, her wrists burning as she curses him, calling him every name her mind can summon.

The words pour out in a desperate torrent, trying to cut him, to provoke something human out of him, anything.

But he stays silent, barely flinching, his face a mask as he gathers his things, turning his back on her without a word. 

When the cellar door finally slams shut, it echoes through the basement, and her last shreds of resolve crumble as she sinks into sobs.

The thoughts come in fragments, jagged and bitter, cutting her deeper than any wound.

The way things were left with her father—how they’d argued and he looked at her with that final, dismissive silence, like she’d become a stranger for daring to chase her own life beyond their town.

The love that took root so unexpectedly, so completely with Javier. He came into her life at the perfect time, pouring a rare, tender kind of intimacy into her soul; the kind that made her feel seen for the first time in her life.

He was a good man who’d endured his own share of hardships —and she let their last conversation end in anger and frustration. She’s just like her father.

Perhaps if she had told him the full truth about how she came across her mother’s past, she wouldn’t be in this mess at all.

This mess—it’s her inheritance. Not a blessing like August wants her to believe, but a curse Calmana left behind, the forced sins of her mother she didn’t choose but can’t escape.

Her suicide is starting to make more sense.

It all makes her feel like a lamb at slaughter, her life never really hers, and now her blood and body are an offering to feed whatever he believes she’s meant to bring to life. 

The promise of an explanation later on hangs over her like a guillotine. Does she even want to know? Will it make a difference?

She got herself kidnapped by trusting them all, falling for August’s romantic words and impressive knowledge. All of his lies. She’d thought she was smart enough to see through him, to keep a grip on her own heart, and instead, she’d unknowingly let him manipulate her.

Sloane was right—she is the helpless damsel she always denied being, someone who hadn’t fought hard enough to save herself. 

Paloma has to believe she’s got people searching for her, that they’re smart enough, relentless enough to find her before night falls. She has to cling to that hope, however fragile, because right now it’s all she has.

Her cries fill the empty space around her until exhaustion claims her in silence.

The basement is her prison as the sun traces its lazy arc above.

The day drags on in a haze of stale air and the natural sounds of bugs chittering about. On occasion, she’ll hear people walk by or see their shadows through the small windows.

She's trapped here, the only visits marking the hours coming when Gabriel brings a bucket for her to relieve herself—like she’s some kind of animal—or sets down a tray of food she refuses to touch.

“You need to eat,” he says, setting the tray with her dinner on the floor. His hands working on cutting the thick rope binding her wrists, each tug and scrape freeing her a fraction at a time.

“What’s the point? M’gonna die anyway,” she mutters, exhausted but still pissed. “Won’t matter if I’ve got a full stomach or not.”

He shakes his head. “You’re not goin’ to die, Paloma. You’re too important to all this. How haven’t you realized that yet?”

“Oh, forgive me if I haven’t picked up on all your twisted bullshit,” she snaps. “You all speak in fuckin’ tongues and riddles. No one’s told me a damn thing that makes any sense.”

At last, the final fiber of rope snaps, and the weight drops from her wrists. She lets out a low, relieved sigh as her arms fall to her sides, stiff from the hours of suspension.

The ache in her shoulders is intense, and her wrists are lined with red from the coarse bondage.

“Don’t try anythin’ stupid,” he warns, his voice low. “They might not kill ya but they’ll hurt you in ways that’ll make you wish you were dead.”

She doesn’t doubt it, so she reins in her impulses and instead glances at the food, the bitterness slowly giving way to resignation.

If the chance to escape comes, she’ll need her strength. She takes the cup, drinking greedily, barely noticing the water spilling down her chin—it’s just a relief to feel the dryness ease, something grounding in a nightmare that feels endless.

The meal tastes dull, but she swallows it down anyway, each bite a fight to hold onto her sense of self, to stay sharp.

Gabriel watches her with that quiet, unreadable expression.

“I tried leavin’ years ago, when August first started buildin’ the group.” He looks down, his mouth pressing into a grim line. “But he caught me at the train station. Gave me the ass-beatin’ of my life. Locked me up in a shed in the middle of the woods for days, left me there until I learned my lesson. I swear, I lost every bit of myself in that dark place.” His voice lowers to a whisper. “After that, I never thought ‘bout leavin’ again... not until he got his sights set on you.”

Paloma’s chewing slows, her eyes flitting over to him, reading the conflict etched in his expression.

For August to treat Gabriel, his so-called “brother,” with such brutality to keep him in line... it makes all too much sense now, why he is August’s silent shadow, obeying every command.

“His obsession with you is different. Everythin’ suddenly became different. He has this way of makin’ you submit to him that gets me wonderin’ if all this Eurynomos shit is actually real.”

The twisted loyalty, the deep-seated fear that’s tangled around them like shackles, intertwined with stories of divinity.

She’s barely scratched the surface of what August is capable of.

“That’s terrible,” she whispers, sympathetic to what he’s been through. “I’m sorry... ‘n I get why you’re scared, but there’s two of us now. We could make a run for it, slip away while we have the chance.”

Her food is forgotten as Paloma edges closer, her gaze steady and imploring. For a moment, he genuinely considers their escape.

But the heavy, thunderous creak of the cellar doors breaks through the moment, both of them jerking apart.

She scrambles backward until her back presses against the cold, damp wall, her heartbeat racing as Gabriel stands abruptly from his stool, his face hardening again. 

It’s only August this time, his usual shadow—Sloane with her biting sneers—thankfully absent.

He strides down with a bag in one hand and shower supplies in the other, eyeing her like she’s some prized possession he’s been itching to inspect. 

“Unrestrained, ate her dinner, and didn’t even try to run? My, my. Little dove, you’re such a good girl.” He passes the items to Gabriel as he steps closer, and she hates the way she’s wedged in a corner, wishing she could melt into the wall or skitter away like a mouse.

He crouches, gently moving the gauze out of the way, his sharp gaze examining the stitches worked into her head wound. “S’lookin’ better already. Now, let’s get you a shower. I can smell you from here, and, sweetheart, it’s not exactly appealin’.”

“Fuck you.”

He smirks, the cruel curve of his lips almost congratulatory. “There she is. Glad to see that fire hasn’t died just yet, my love.”

With a vice-like grip, his hand latches onto her arm, dragging her up to her feet and across the basement to a sad excuse for a shower—no curtain, nothing remotely resembling privacy, just exposed plumbing and mildewed tile. He shoves her into the cramped space, gesturing at her with a command that chills her: “Strip.”

Her stomach tightens, and she squares her jaw. “Turn around.”

A laugh bursts from him, sharp and mocking. “You think you’re in any position to make demands? You may be special, darlin’, but that don’t mean you’re runnin’ shit. Now strip, or I’ll tie you up and rip that little outfit off myself.”

She grits her teeth, fists clenched. “No.”

His smile vanishes, replaced by a darker, crueler expression.

In a flash, his hand is around her throat, shoving her harshly against the slimy tile, the back of her head meeting the hard surface making her cry out in pain.

Her breath snags as his grip tightens around her neck, the cool press of a switchblade grazing the scar on her hip, making her pulse hammer in her ears. “Don’t push me,” he growls, the blade’s edge nicking her skin just enough to sting. He knows exactly where she’s sensitive, and he revels in her flinch. “I’ve told you—I don’t like hurtin’ you, but I will if I have to. Strip. Now.”

He releases her, the air rushing back into her lungs, making her cough.

Her hands tremble as she peels away her clothes, starting with the long, flowing skirt that puddles around her ankles, leaving her in just her underwear and camisole.

August’s eyes rake over her, and his silent demand pulls at her last nerve.

She swallows back her tears, fingers shaking as she slides the straps off her shoulders, letting the fabric fall to the floor and then stepping out of her underwear, kicking the pile aside.

Now entirely naked, her arms wrap protectively around herself to shield what she can. She looks away, the sting of indignity making her skin crawl, willing herself not to cry.

August steps forward, adjusting the shower’s dial, and the pipes clank and groan as water finally bursts out of the rusted shower head, icy at first. She shivers, her teeth clattering, and only once the water turns warm does the chill ease up.

A snap of his fingers brings Gabriel closer, setting the shower supplies within reach. August then places them at her feet, his mocking gaze never leaving her as he drags a worn wooden chair up, seating himself like a perverse audience settling in for a show. 

Paloma doesn’t move, clinging harder to her body, her nails digging into her own skin, praying he’ll lose interest and turn away. But he just smirks. “Don’t be shy, P. Not like I haven’t seen you naked before.” His tongue drags over his lips, blue eyes glittering darkly, drinking in her discomfort.

She would rather die where she stands than have him touch her, lingering his hands over her body like a wolf savoring his meal. Slowly, reluctantly, her arms fall to her sides, shoulders curling inward, as she begins to wash herself.

The hot tears mix with the water streaming down her cheeks, each drop hiding the sobs she’s swallowing.

August’s stare trails over her figure, his smirk deepening every time she flinches under the weight of it.

He doesn’t hide his hunger, watching her every movement—the rise and fall of her breasts, the curve of her hips, the sway of her shoulders as she soaps herself in silence.

Gabriel’s eyes stay firmly on his boots, shame evident in his posture. 

Finally, she shuts off the water, chest heaving as she swallows down the humiliation, covering herself again and feeling his satisfaction lingering in the room like a toxic cloud.

A towel lands at her feet, and she grabs it, pulling it around her trembling frame, feeling like her skin might crawl right off her bones. 

“Got this dress made just for you,” August says casually, standing then pulling out a white dress and red flats from a worn bag. He tosses them onto the chair he’d just been sitting in, not making any effort to move or look away, and she swallows back the lump in her throat.

She’s barely holding herself together, her fingers fumbling with the towel as she dries off, eyes darting between the two men.

One won’t meet her gaze, too timorous, and the other stares at her with lecherous eyes.

She slips on the dress, it’s something she would’ve picked for herself under different circumstances; calf-length, delicate ladder lace along the trim, cap sleeves, and three charmeuse red ribbons that match the shoes.

But the beauty of it feels like a cruel mockery against the ugliness of this moment. 

“You look so beautiful,” August purrs, “Get a good look at yourself.” 

She’s forced in front of an antique mirror, the glass warped and cracked, but she can still make out her reflection. 

The dark circles beneath her eyes, bruised skin, the way her hair clings to her damp skin, the faded pallor of her face against her outfit—she looks like a ghost.

His hand slides to her shoulder, pushing her hair aside as he leans in, trailing his nose against her skin and inhaling deeply. “You smell like summertime.” He presses his lips to her neck, and bile rises in her throat.

Then, he pulls back, her mother’s cross pendant in hand, fastening it around her neck with a satisfied smile.

Her heart clenches once she sees it. She’d left that at Javier’s, tucked away safely with all the other things she moved out of her childhood home in preparation for their big trip.

The thought of August being in his space, doing God knows what, gets her alarmed. “What did you do to him?”

August looks momentarily confused by her query, but then his smirk grows as he eyes the pendent and sees that look in her eyes. “Don’t worry, I didn’t touch your precious narc. He ain’t been home all day. He’s out there, sniffin’ around for you like a lost dog. Thought about killin’ him, but… I think he’d suffer more thinkin’ he failed you. Just another life he couldn’t save, huh?”

The words press against those bruising, sore spots on her heart. She scowls, throwing back as much defiance as she can muster. “You wouldn’t get close enough to try.” Her voice trembles, but she knows Javier and what he’s capable of. 

He just shrugs, the malicious glint in his eyes unwavering. “Maybe not. But Sloane?” He grins, knowing how even mentioning her gets under Paloma’s skin. “Now, I think she could.”

He doesn’t give her time to respond, moving to bind her hands again, this time in smooth silk restraints that feel uncharacteristically gentle against her wrists.

Time moves in slow motion, she becomes unresponsive, like a melancholic statue, as he brushes her hair, fussing over her appearance as if she were some doll, changing the gauze over her stitches.

Her hope of getting out of this has diminished. Gabriel won’t help her and August has run the two men competent enough to figure this out in circles, so tangled up in deceit to find her.

The evening melts into night, shadows deepening when he finally leaves, just to return moments later with a steaming cup of tea that smells rancid and earthy, like decay.

“Drink up.”

She shakes her head, refusing it, but he pries her mouth open, forcing her to swallow the scalding liquid. It’s bitter and burns her throat, her tongue singed as she swallows unwillingly. 

“See? Wasn’t so bad,” he taunts her, wiping away some of the remnants that spilled from the corner of her mouth.

The effect is immediate; her mind hazes, thoughts swirling, until her body feels sluggish, as if it is no longer tethered to her.

Just as her vision starts to fade, a red, body-length veil is draped over her, the fabric casting her world into blood-hued darkness.

“I need to see it again.” 

Javier pinches the bridge of his nose at Romeo’s request, fingers then pressing hard against his closed eyes as the footage gets rewound. 

It’s the only evidence they have—a single security camera capturing what transpired. The grainy video shows her crossing the street, pausing, and then August and his accomplices stepping into view. She runs, disappearing off-camera for what feels like a lifetime, before being dragged back and shoved into the bed of the truck.

Each time Javier watches, another shard of him breaks away.

Romeo shifts beside him, watching the screen with unrelenting focus. He’s insistent, searching for anything, some small clue to pinpoint where they went.

Javier, though, is at his limit, fighting the urge to hurl the screen across the room.

“Romeo,” he begins, a little strained, “we’re not going to find anything new here.”

“We missed shit before. Can’t afford to miss anythin’ now.”

They’d spent the whole damn day combing through the trio’s hometown, hoping for any piece of intel, some breadcrumb that would lead them to the group’s hideout.

The search had been maddeningly fruitless. Fayette’s local authorities helped spread the word, but there was nothing, no tracks, no whispers, no real leads to follow.

Every registered address tied to the three was a dead end. Their only childhood homes, a trailer park, had burned down over a decade ago, leaving no trace, no history to sift through.

Everyone close to them—parents, guardians—were either dead, in prison, or admitted. The few family members with any sense had cut ties long ago.

“They were hellraisers,” the retired sheriff had muttered. That’s all the town could say, the simple acknowledgment that the trio had always left destruction in their wake.

The only useful piece of information they dug up was that August had left his job at a local grocery store to work for some woman, an outsider no one really knew.

She’d shown up, taken August with her, and he’d returned a few years later with a more hardened resolve, recruiting Sloane and Gabriel.

After torching some local acreage and serving time for arson, they’d vanished from Fayette until the recent spree of murders started.

“He’s been planning this for a long time, Romeo. They knew how to hide; they’ve done this before.” Javier mutters, frustration simmering in his tone.

They’d tried running a partial plate of the truck, only to come up short once again.

Javier moves near the blinds, unable to keep watching her kidnapping, glimpsing the sea of people that make up their search parties gathered in their too small department.

The faces blur together, civilians and first responders alike, all waiting for direction.

“It’s probably best if you go to the hospital and get Harper’s statement. She’s cleared to talk, right?” 

Romeo takes a beat longer to respond, clearly grappling with his own anguish. “Yeah. Got the official call ‘bout ten minutes ago.” 

“If anyone’s got something to give us that can break this open, it’s her.”

The room is quiet except for the low murmur of voices spilling in. The tape finally ends and Romeo’s gaze falls to the corner of his desk, where a lone photo of Paloma sits; she’s grinning with his cowboy hat perched high on her head, radiating joy.

He stares at it like he’s trying to draw strength from that moment, then he slowly picks it up, pressing his lips together in thought, handing it over to Javier.

“Here. This is the one I used for the flyers.”

Javier swallows hard, taking it, his thumb grazing over the image, his own heart sinking. This is the Paloma he can’t let slip through his fingers, the one who belongs right here, laughing and safe. Not wherever she was now. 

Romeo’s tone holds firm determination. “Do what you gotta do. For her. You understand me?”

Javier just nods, no words left to offer in the face of everything unsaid.

The sheriff lets out a long, heavy sigh, the kind that speaks of too many hours awake, too many close calls, too many second chances lost to bad luck or timing or whatever fate is left to them.

He grabs his jacket, slinging it over his shoulders, steeling his expression as he leaves the office, moving through the throng that instantly swells around him.

They close in with questions, worry, and hope—all of it colliding in one tense space.

Seeing them converge on Romeo, Javier takes a steadying breath and steps out right behind him, his presence commanding even in his silence.

He straightens, letting the authority in his stance speak for him, his gaze hard as he begins relaying their plan with swift, unyielding precision.

The world tilts and sways as Paloma returns to half-consciousness, vision still muddled from the drugged tea that has her head feeling like it’s filled with lead and limbs sluggish.

She’s seated upright in an ornate, over-decorated chair with her hands still bound in front of her. She tries to blink away the fog clouding her mind, but the red veil over her face continues to shroud her vision.

Her stitched wound throbs faintly, then suddenly, she’s being lifted and carried by four indistinct figures.

The swaying motion makes her sick, but she’s too weak to cry out, her voice nothing more than a ghost lodged in her throat.

She starts to feel the dampness of the humid Texas night pressing into her skin, the scent of flowers floating in the air, sickly sweet as it mixes with the distant smell of incense.

She’s paraded down a candlelit path where kneeling figures line the walkway, bowing in silent reverence. The sound of murmuring voices hums around her like a distant, dreadful lullaby. 

Finally, the procession stops, and her chair is lowered to the ground.

Her surroundings feel unreal, like a fever dream she’s trapped inside. A dark shadow moves in front of her, reaching to pull her to her feet. She tries to make out their face, but it’s just a dark, hollow blur.

Her legs tremble as she takes a few shaky steps, guided by an iron grip that steers her from the soft earth to a hard surface. Somewhere to her right, she hears a voice—August's—so sharp that it almost makes her ears bleed.

“We have to capture this moment.”

Paloma’s body is positioned, hands adjusting her like she’s an ornament rather than a person. She can barely keep her knees from buckling, her body swaying as they try to hold her up.

Her mind is a mess, every thought tangled, every movement slow, as if she’s moving underwater.

She falls, just as she hears the flash of a camera, her legs finally giving way, but hands grip her before she hits the ground, lifting her, steadying her as her head lolls to the side.

Then, in one swift motion, the veil lifted from her face.

August stands there, close enough that she can see every cold line in his face, conforming into possessive delight. 

He’s dressed to match her, red bows on his collared shirt, the same lace design on his pants.

Her skin crawls as his fingers trace the side of her face, his voice a leering purr. “My special little dove.”

He pulls her close, spinning her so that she faces their creation in her honor. The white marble gleams in the halo of the candlelight, surrounded by a sea of blood-red spider lilies, their spindly petals stretching out like claws.

Candles of every size and shape cast their shadows over the altar, illuminating the intricate carving of their emblem, miniatures and other offerings strewn about.

“All for you,” his lips brush against her ear.

The hands surrounding her are unyielding as she’s lifted and maneuvered onto the cold slab, the hard surface unforgiving beneath her back.

Her wrists are freed only to be tied again, the silk binding each one to a small stone pillar at each side.

Her ankles follow, strapped to the pillars near the end of the altar, legs bent slightly and spread, leaving her trapped and exposed.

Her breath quickens, each ragged inhale catching in her throat as the reality of her fate crashes down with brutal clarity. The red veil is drawn back over her face.

Tears blur her sight, mixing with the snot and sweat as she starts to sob, desperate cries spilling from her lips, pleas tumbling out in a desperate stream that echo out into the vastness of the field.

“Please… please, let me go. You don’t have to do this, please.” Her words come out strangled and slurred but she’s ignored. She jerks against her restraints, each movement growing weaker as the drug saps her strength.

August stands before his followers, his voice low yet electrifying, every declaration steeped in reverence and simmering triumph. 

“For centuries, we have waited in the shadows, prayed in whispers, bound by oaths that our forebears swore. Those before us dreamed of this moment, yet they were weak, too fearful to claim what was rightfully theirs. We will not repeat their mistakes. The bloodline of the first, the birthing bloodline, flows through her veins, and she is ours. Eurynomos will have a body made of flesh and bone, a place in this realm, because of us.”

Paloma shakes her head side to side, desperate to block out August’s devious words. Just as a surge of strength flares within her, sharp fingers dig into her shoulders from behind, pressing her back down, anchoring her in place.

Through the haze of drowsiness, her blurred vision lands on Sloane, looming over her with a short, black veil shrouding her face. Beneath it, Paloma can make out an expression as evil as it is watchful.

“No more dreams. No more consuming or offering flesh that rots before dawn. Our devotion, our patience, has led us here. We are the last of our kind—the ones who bring forth the new age. Now is the time for fulfillment. Now is the time to step into the eternal night and bring our deity home.” 

His gaze sweeps over the bowed heads, the flicker of candlelight dancing in his eyes as his words coil around them like a vow.

Sloane relinquishes her hold, seemingly fading away.

He approaches her slowly, each step deliberate, his hand drifting up the length of her body. His fingers come to rest on her cheek, stroking gently, almost reverently.

August leans in, his nose brushing against hers, and without a word, he presses his lips to hers, a slow, possessive kiss over the sheer material of the veil.

She wants to pull away, to resist, but she’s trapped within herself, her will slipping as though he’s holding the reins to her very soul.

When he pulls away, his voice lowers to a rhythmic timbre, the words twisting together in an incantation she can’t understand.

Each syllable makes her sink further into delusion, the compromising position heightening her vulnerability. 

The weight of her own helplessness crushes her as she lies there.

Suddenly, the speaking stops. An unnatural silence blankets the moment, thieving sound until it’s just her shaky, pitiful cries. Even the cicadas quit their insistent chirping.

Paloma blinks, barely able to see through the veil, but she watches August step back until his figure is swallowed by the darkness beyond the altar. 

She shivers as a chill wind flows over her body, extinguishing the flames around her and plunging her into the night, save for the heavy, luminous moon hanging full and merciless above.

Two glowing eyes flicker into view at the far end of the clearing. They hover, eerie and inhuman, watching her with a predatory patience.

A twig snaps in the shadows. Her breath catches. Another snap, closer this time.

Blood rushes in her ears, but above the pounding, she hears something else—labored breaths, thick and wet, the sound too guttural to be human. 

Her body locks up and quivers as a shadow casts up to the very heavens, emerging from the backdrop of trees, its form towering and monstrous. It seems to stretch endlessly, merging with the dark sky above, as if it could reach out and seize the lunar sphere.

Paloma tries to scream, but her body is frozen, paralyzed in a state of unholy dread.

Her eyes widen, tears leaking silently, her throat closing tight as the figure moves forward.

The dark, hulking mass leans over her, and she feels something press down on her belly, then sharp claws caress her bare legs, creeping upwards, scratching at the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. 

Her chest tightens as if she’s having a heart attack, fright coursing through her like poison. She can’t breathe, feeling herself teeter on the edge of consciousness.

Black spots swallow her field of view as her eyes roll to the back of her head, and in that instant, she’s slipping away, her mind yanking her away from this horror, casting her into the darkness of her own making as she loses herself, the terror too great to bear.

[deadricslover]

little admirer

here's my masterlist!

a/n: I've been stuck for ideas I'm sorry I've been gone :/ but hopefully I will get back into the routine of posting! this is also shorter than usual but I didn't want to drag it out lol

summary: you always hated getting bombarded by 'fans' of Bruce and the paparazzi. You didn't think this encounter would be any different but you were wrong. It was actually one of the most wholesome ones and definitely your favourite.

warnings: this really isn't about Bruce but he's the boyfriend ok? so...ya. and scars I guess NOT PROOFREAD

pairings: bale!Bruce Wayne x gn!musician!eader

-------------------------------------------------

When you looked out the window and saw the crowds of people outside, your fear reached its pinnacle. The only thing you wanted was to spend your anniversary with Bruce alone, free from intrusions other than kisses, of course. Yet that was all wishful thinking. It was obvious that it would not occur. Given your animosity for the paparazzi, Bruce had made an effort to ease your fears, but in reality, you both knew you would just have to get through it. You might have thought you would get used to it since you were also a fairly well-known musician, but not as much as Bruce, the prince of Gotham. However, Bruce took your hand and urged you to break the habit of chewing your nails while staring at the crowd.

"how do they even know you're here?" to ask turning to him

he huffs and shakes his head in thought. "I don't know. maybe someone saw us walking in"

"can we not go to dinner in peace? I mean.." you were at a loss for words, you didn't know how people could be so invasive and inconsiderate.

"I know. I know" he soothes gently kissing your hand and stroking your opposite shoulder whilst his arm is around your back.

"do you want to just get it done?" he inquires and you knew it was the smart thing to do even though you didnt want to. at all.

"yeah sure" you reply turning away and grabbing some last minute things off the bed. On the way out of the elevator, Bruce gently yet firmly places his hand on your waist in order to keep you close. Cameras flash, questions are thrown as you try to make your way through the flood of people. Bruce usually liked to put away a minute or two for some real fans who just wanted a high five off of Bruce Wayne, but he wasn't so sure about right now. You encouraged him to do it, not to break tradition and said you would wait elsewhere. Usually people would recognise you, but Bruce Wayne was right there so of course nobody would pay attention to you...not that you were complaining. A couple people did ak for a photo and you kindly obliged as long as they were sincere about it. As you stood watching Bruce interact with kids and their parents, not paying any mind to reporters, you feel a little tap on your arm. You look around and notice a little girl standing next to you with loving eyes. You crouch down to the little girl thinking maybe she was lost.

"hi sweetie. Are you ok?" you ask the child glancing around to see if her parents were anywhere to be found.

"I'm very good." she replies cheerfully

"awh that's good. where are your parents?" you ask

"getting a photo with Bruce Wayne."

"ooohh. everyone wants to don't they? he's really famous" you emphasize trying to make conversation with the girl

"not as famous as you, though"

she knew who you were? that's so sweet "no no. Bruce is way way more famous than me. but thank you! what's your name?"

"Camilla. You're my favourite person, ever!" she jumps lightly squealing.

oh my- of your heart wasn't throbbing before. it sure is now. the smile on your face couldn't be bigger.

"awh that's so sweet! you're my favourite person too, Camilla!"

"can I tell you a secret" she whispers after a couple moments of silence

"of course you can" you tell her pretending to zip your lips and lock them. She rolls up her t-shirt a little to show you a scar on her tummy. Whatever caused that scar, you felt horrible, especially because she said it was a secret. your eyebrows draw together as a reaction to your reaction.

"I used to hate it and cry all the time because I thought it was weird. but then I found out that you had one too, and now I love it, because my favourite person in the whole wide world has the same thing as me!" she tells. you honestly could cry. A little girl hating something about her body ay such a young age is bad enough but also the fact that she grew to love it because you had one too?! your heart throbbed.

"I do have one. it's on my arm. But yours is so much more beautiful"

"I got mine from an operation when I was a baby" she informs you butchering the word operation as any child would.

"ooh interesting. see all those people asking Bruce for a photo? with all the cameras? well I got mine from them. one time I finished a show and was going home and they hurt me" you recall in simple terms

"my mommy and daddy hurt you?" she asks shocked

"no! not your parents. some others that don't work there anymore."

"that's sad" she replies

she looks off into the crowd for a second and waves to her parents before telling you she has to go now-- not before asking for a hugh though. you kindly oblige without a second thought and embrace the girl smiling. her parents walk over and thank you for being kind to her and watching her. you tell them it was no problem as they leave and you wave to the little girl. Right on queue the famous Bruce wayne walks over without you noticing

"she seemed to love you"

"tell me about it. I'm her favourite person ever in the whole wide world" you recall

"she's not the only one" he adds to taking your hand in his and starts walking

you smile lightly and nudge Bruce slightly "she showed me something too. she had this scar on her stomach from a surgery when she born and she used to always be insecure about it" you start

"that's horrible, she's only young" he butts in genuinely sorry for the girl

"yeah, but the nice part that she found out that I also had a scar the same shape as hers and because of that she grew to love it...all because I had one too!" you exclaim still in disbelief

"you're such an influence. that's so sweet" he responds continuing to walk. "it is isn't it?" you reply placing your head on his shoulder while strolling to the restaurant. Usually you hate the paparazzi, but this time was different, it was sincere and sweet. definitely your favourite so far.

[yandere-romanticaa]

Continuation of this post here.

ENDING ONE - you left the ADA.

With a heavy heart you chose to leave the Agency.

Chuuya was beyond thrilled and he was extremely vocal with his joy. In almost no time everything you owned was transferred elsewhere, far away from any prying eyes and possibly bothersome individuals. All that was left of you was the single resignation letter you wrote in a hurry and left in on the president's desk late into the evening when no one else was in the office.

You sit in a comfortable couch and gaze downwards into the city, a glass of fine wine in your hand but your mind is elsewhere. You see Dazai and Atsushi questioning the nearby civilians on your possible whereabouts, even going as far by showing them several photos of you to them.

It was all in vain though. Absolutely everything was wiped away about you, everything, the Port Mafia made it so.

Chuuya made it so.

Feeling his presence behind you was odd, it was so hard to get used to. The scent of fine cologne and cigarette smoke always clung to him but it was addicting in its own little way. You often found yourself laying awake in the middle of the night, thinking about Chuuya as the other side of the bed was empty and vacant mostly due to the fact that Chuuya was often beyond busy. You thought about him and his actions, how good he was to you despite his shortcomings, despite the lack of freedom and autonomy you were basically royalty in the criminal underworld.

Say the word and Chuuya would even buy you a crown if you so wished.

"What's got you so worked up sugar?" said Chuuya as he pressed his lips onto your soft neck, leaving a trail of gentle kisses anywhere he could manage to reach. As he did so he managed to catch a glimpse of the Agency members all gathering up in one place, most likely trying to figure out a new strategy of how to bring you back.

He tsked, his teeth suddenly sinking deeper into your neck, leaving a big purple bruise without a doubt. He quickly shut the blinds and wrapped his arms around your waist, engulfing you in his presence completely now.

There was no way you could move. You could feel him scowling against you. "You don't need those bastards." Another kiss, another quiet little tsk.

"Not when you have me."

He was right. You did have him. He was your whole world now.

Chuuya never did figure out just who was harassing you so much and that still made him a little mad. But beggars can't be choosers and after all this time he could finally hold you, he could finally be with you without any worries.

His fantasy was finally a reality.

🕊️ TAGS: @yanroma, @oneoftheprettynerds, @sxy0ung, @misdollface, @rosemary108233, @itssara-chan

Oh my, just who is the the stalker? Well, guess we'll have to see in the ADA ending but I won't stop you from trying to guess. Stay tuned everyone!

[ww2yaoi]

Webgrantgott & the breeding kink one obviously <3 God knows I'm waiting for chuck/web/joe like it's the second coming of Christ

webgrantgott snippet ❤️

“Hey, Lieb, you in there?” It’s a recognizable voice, probably the only one in the company that isn’t cause for alarm. Joe rolls his eyes and some of the tension deflates. He scoots out of David’s lap, but David grabs his wrist before he can get to his feet. “Don’t answer it,” David says, hushed. “Why not?” Joe asks, at a normal volume. He tugs his wrist away. “It’s just Chuck.” He gets off the bed and goes to the door. Meanwhile, David’s gaze drops to his lap where the beginnings of an erection is tenting the front of his pants. He considers grabbing a pillow to cover himself, but he doesn’t know what would be worse: Chuck seeing his hard-on, or Chuck being able to tell he was trying to hide it. He inches over to the edge of the bed and plants his feet on the floor, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees in an attempt to look casual, like he wasn’t just flat on his back against the mattress. Joe tugs the door open, but only enough to poke his head through. “What do you want?” “Jesus, Joe, nice to see you too,” Chuck says.

the concept of this one is basically 1. joe and chuck used to fuck around. joe had feelings, chuck was just fucking him out of convenience (still cares about him deeply though) 2. joe is with web now 3. they're in love but won't say it so naturally 4. they play threesome chicken

tasteful breeding kink <3

Web goes over to the fridge and sticks the photo onto the door with a magnet. He’s still smiling slightly, fond and somewhat wistful, reminiscent of when he met that family in Civic Park and was borderline giddy about it. He had that same expression on his face then. Joe has seen it before on other people, mostly women. Suddenly, he realizes something. “Oh, I know that look.” “Huh?” Web glances over at Joe from the fridge. “What look?” “That look.” Joe gestures vaguely in the general direction of Web’s face. “My sister Mary used to get like that before Jim knocked her up with their first kid. Right after the wedding when they were trying at it. Whenever a baby smiled at her on the street or she saw a toddler with fat legs she’d just go crazy.” “What?” Web says. “What are you talking about?” Joe can see colour rising on his cheeks. “You’re being stupid, Joe.” “Am I?” Joe raises his eyebrows at him, then beckons him over with an upward motion of his head. “Come here, Schatz.” “Why?” “I wanna talk to you.” Web looks at him begrudgingly but does as he’s told, crowding into Joe’s space against the counter but not coming close enough to touch him. Joe slides his hands over Web’s waist, fitting them against his hips. “I know what this is all about,” he says. “You want a baby.” Web’s face flushes immediately, a bright bloom of blood in the apples of his cheeks. The last time Joe saw him this flustered he was fucking him for the first time. “Joe, don’t be ridiculous—” “You’ll have to put me in soon, coach,” Joe says with a sly smile. “You’re nearly thirty, Web. Your prime child-bearing years are almost over.” Web huffs. “Joe, stop fucking around.” “What? I’m just saying we better get busy.”

basically this whole fic was inspired by that scene with web and the little dutch boy. web is baby crazy in this and joe wishes he could give that to him so badly but society 👎 the post-war baby boom 1950s 👎 homophobia 👎 and so joe is deathly afraid web is going to leave him to find that life elsewhere 👍

thanks for the ask <3

[shadyufo]

How much do you like selling on Etsy? I've been thinking about opening up a shop to sell my own taxidermy art on there. It's just that I've heard Etsy is known for shutting down shops randomly and people keep saying that Etsy's "dying"/on a downward slope. I also heard there are a lot of scammers... What are your thoughts?

Hi Anon!

My feelings about Etsy have definitely gotten sorta complicated over the last few years.

First of all, I love my little shop. I love getting to interact with so many sweet and lovely folks and I love getting to send my art and oddities all over the country. I’ve sold pieces through Etsy that have ended up in museums and classrooms, as props in movies and television shows, that have been centerpieces in peoples’ weddings, that were birthday gifts for little kids just getting into nature and science, and so many other neat and wonderful places with some really awesome people who I am forever grateful to for supporting my shop.

That said, in my opinion, Etsy is definitely not what it used to be and there are plenty of things I wish they would do differently to make the site better for sellers and buyers. I think their search feature needs a total revamp and they also need to crack down on all the sellers flooding the site with mass-produced merchandise. Their recent decision that AI-made content is totally fine by them is another serious bummer and a slap in the face to the real artists using their platform. The list goes on.

In spite of all that, if you want to open an online shop, then Etsy is still probably the best site to do it on, at least starting out. It’s a trusted, household name and they have millions of users from all around the world so you are going to be getting much more traffic than if you were just starting your own site from scratch without any sort of social media following.

You'll still likely want to grow a social media presence (if you haven't already) to help drive traffic to your site rather than rely on Etsy alone for this. A great deal of my own shop's traffic comes from Tumblr and what little I post on other social media. This is something I really should be better about as I've kinda shot myself in the foot by not utilizing them more over the years...but I just really don't like using TikTok or Instagram haha.

From what I’ve seen, vulture culture stuff-wise, Etsy mostly gets mad at folks who sell wet specimens or other more “gruesome” type of oddities and don’t blur the main listing photo or do something similar to warn folks that it could be something they might find upsetting. They also prohibit the sale of some animal parts that are perfectly legal to buy and sell provided you follow the laws around them. So if a seller was listing some of those items, while legal elsewhere, that might have gotten them in trouble with Etsy. Here's a list of what they don't allow. And here's a more specific list of their prohibited animal parts. Note bear, wolf, and zebra are on the list—it's perfectly legal to sell parts from some of these animals in some places provided you follow the laws around doing so, but Etsy doesn't allow it at all. I've had them remove listings for domestic dog and cat skulls in the past as well—the law there is in regards to selling dog and cat fur (which is illegal in the US) but Etsy seemed to think it covers bones as well which it does not.

As for scammers, don't click on suspicious links anyone sends you and watch out for people wanting to contact you outside of Etsy. Don’t swap phone numbers, email addresses, etc with people. Etsy has guides on their site on what to watch out for that it’d be good to read through.

So all of that to say that if you want to start selling your work online then I think Etsy is most likely going to be the best place to do it, at least starting out. If you want to just dip your toes in the market before opening an Etsy shop though you can always try posting a few items here or there on Instagram or one of the oddities selling groups on Facebook but in my experience at least, Etsy is still the best way to go. Then, once you build up a following, you can always start your own site or branch out beyond Etsy if you want to.

I wish you all the best, Anon! Hope you find wild success selling your work wherever you decide to do it <3

[sgiandubh]

An honest ask

Dear @outlander-online,

I have read the following endorsement on your page:

Would you be so kind and clarify which photos are old, according to you? The photos @brian-in-finance posted to refute me and other bloggers, or all the pictures related to these two events I did post in good faith, believing they were newly released by Getty?

Being understood that the 2019 Scottish BAFTA Gala was reflected on your site by this series of photos, NEW HQ Pics of The Cast of The Cast of Outlander at The Scottish BAFTA Awards - Outlander OnlineOutlander Online (outlander-online.com), I have to say I do not see these 4 black and white images, apparently released by Getty on January 29th:

Same goes for the last two BTS pictures in the series I posted here....

I simply do not see them in the series you posted at the time and to which the user @brian-in-finance refers to.

Perhaps they were posted elsewhere. In that case, I wouldn't know: it would take forever to do a Google Image search and the Lens option is not any better:

I simply went with what Getty was showing.

All the pictures posted by me and dealing with the 2017 Scottish BAFTA Awards, here

are on your website, at this link:

I had no intention to mislead or overlook anyone.

I do not wish to drag you into a conversation that you probably do not want or need to be a part of. I would simply very much appreciate an answer to a simple question related to the content posted on your website.

Sincerely yours,

Me

[beazt]

I swear I will post more updates soon. I wish I could be a pillar of information tonight or sooner. But I have barely slept in the past extremely traumatic 5 days. If you are willing to help spread information elsewhere about my area’s impacts, please DM me on here or discord (@ leehavit) and I will send you all of the places I know of that are becoming huge collections of photos, videos, disaster relief resources, emergency management updates, etc on facebook. Facebook is almost entirely the only place we are able to communicate and receive updates from emergency management and disaster relief workers and utility companies right now. I will even send a friend request and doxx myself in that way to most people who’d ask because when I do have signal I am sharing everything I can there.

The biggest hurdle right now is we can barely get information to the media. There is so much devastation and most of us are working endlessly to stay alive and safe and keep others the same, and regaining contact with the hundreds of people that cannot even be accessed by ATV, boat, air, horse, or foot.

We need people screaming from the rooftops about our situation but we are struggling greatly to share even the tip of the iceberg beyond updating our neighbors and families right now.

Some of the most important Facebook pages/groups to check currently for my county and towns:

- group: Hurricane Helene — Ashe County (public, does not require joining)

- page: Ashe County Emergency Management (they are too swamped to provide too many updates on conditions but are sharing resources as frequently as possible)

- page: Blue Ridge Energy

- page: Ashe County Sheriff’s Office

- page: North Carolina Weather Authority (not limited to my county at all but provides verified information and weather analysis)

- page: Scannerfood (politically biased recounts of what a man hears on the emergency frequencies, but a major source of local emergency updates across the region nonetheless, we are barely inside their coverage so we aren’t on their updates too often)

- page: FirstWarn Tri-Cities (same as above but a different page more focused about weather)

[fuck-customers]

I hate this place!! A monkey with half its brain rotted could do a better job of managing the store!!

So I needed the 15th through the 20th off. I filled out a request form and turned it into the request form folder, as that was the only system for getting time off in my 5+ years of employment. Turned it in, manager will look at it and not schedule me, everything should be cool, right? Wrong.

I look at the new schedule and see that my manager has scheduled me to work on the days that I requested off. I also check and see that my request is sitting in the turned in folder, along with 20+ other requests, clearly not even glanced at. Irritated, I write a note and pin it to the schedule [☆top photo☆] and hope that's the end of it.

During my next scheduled shift before leaving for my requested days off, Lead A informs me that our boss apparently doesn't ever look at time off requests and if you need time off, you have to go talk with her in person and ask for it off. That is absolutely ridiculous. 1. I work afternoons/evenings and she works early mornings. Our shifts rarely overlap, so I'd have to come into work 4+ hours before my scheduled shift (unpaid!!) just to ask for time off, when all I SHOULD have to do is fill out a request. And 2. THAT'S WHAT THE TIME OFF REQUEST FORMS ARE FOR!!

Whatever. That's a problem for a different day. The important thing is that during the conversation where my lead informed me that our boss doesn't look at time off requests, she also informed me that they DID already get coverage for my shifts. I also had Lead B confirm my days off [☆bottom left photo☆] Awesome. Nothing for me to worry about, right?

Wrong.

Today (9/18) I get a missed call and voicemail [☆ bottom right photo☆] from Lead B asking me to come into work to cover a shift. Hello? Didn't we already go over this? I hate this place!

I wish I could go to every person who even so much as considers working at Green Fabric Hell to LOOK ELSEWHERE. This is just ONE of the types of bullshit you'll encounter while working there. Not to mention the abysmal hours (we're talking single digit amounts of hours) the poor management, lack of training, lack of communication, lack of raises or promotions, lack of organization, just basically lack of anything that would typically be needed to have a functional store + workplace.

Posted by admin Rodney.