#i'll come back to it some other time i hope

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Jade Leech - Shore Celebrant Vignette

"The light I had been continuously chasing"

[Ultramarine City – Part in Plaza]

Grim: Ooh, there's a ton of souvenirs being sold over there, too.

Rook: You're right. We should go take a look.

Jade: There is a fascinating store that isn't in an easily spotted location, as well. I can point it out as we near it.

Malleus: A fascinating store? I wonder if they carry more unusual items. How exciting.

Riddle: When Jade says "fascinating," I feel a little― no, very uneasy… However, I'm also interested.

1. I'm excited!

Jade: Oh my, I had no idea you were looking forward to it that much. I am elated, of course, but now I am feeling the pressure. Jade: I do hope it will strike your fancy as well, [Yuu]-san.

2. I'm nervous…

Jade: No need to be so frightened. This is just a lovely little town with such bright and cheerful people, no? Jade: I'm sure there aren't any items there with any kind of shady origins. Most likely…

Riddle: Have you gone to that shop with Azul or Floyd?

Jade: Not at all. Those two were not interested whatsoever, and passed by the store without stopping.

Jade: And that was merely because, according to the flyer plastered on the storefront, they source their wares directly from merfolk…

Jade: Some of their available merchandise include items such as fortune-telling seaweed, or instruments and accessory cases made out of shells.

Jade: I've heard they even raise seahorses with anemones on their heads.

Jade: None of that is all that unusual for us merfolk. So that is why they had no interest in going inside.

Jade: However, I'm sure it is filled to the brim with objects land-dwellers like yourselves would have never seen before. I do hope you will enjoy it.

Rook: Oui! Just hearing about it is quickening my pulse.

Grim: Hey, do they got anything to eat, though? I wanna eat all the delish stuff they got from under the sea!

Jade: It did seem like they sold what would be considered standard fare for merfolk, so I'm sure they'll have something of the like. For example…

???: Woah, hey… Is that you, Jade-kun!?

Jade: Oh my, if it isn't you…! I'm afraid it has been some time.

Jade: Yes, I'm Jade Leech. Thank you for everything you did for me back then.

1. Do you guys know each other?

Jade: Indeed. I had previously attended a training camp for merfolk who would come to the surface world… Jade: He was one of the people working there. He had his work cut out for him while looking after us.

2. Who is this guy…?

Jade: Are you aware of the training camp specifically created for merfolk who would come to the surface world? Jade: He was one of the people working there. He took very good care of us there.

Jade: I must say, I was not expecting to run into you here at Ultramarine City… Are you on vacation?

Training School Staff: Actually, I'm working. Well, I say that, but we've got no merfolk attending our little school right now.

Training School Staff: I'm just scouting out some new places in Ultramarine City to help in our walking course.

Jade: I see. If you were to showcase many beautiful locations, there may be more interest within the merfolk community to come to land.

Training School Staff: That's right. I'm gonna come up with a plan so amazing that it'll even get you from back then excited.

Rook: "From back then"…?

Training School Staff: Ah, whoops. I gotta get back to work.

Training School Staff: I'm glad you're enjoying yourself on land, Jade-kun. Tell the other two I say hi!

Jade: Of course, I'll let them know. Goodbye.

Jade: Sorry to keep you all waiting. The shop I'd like to show you is over this way. Let's head there now.

Grim: Yeah! Let's go already!!

[Ultramarine City – Sunshine Bay Restaurant]

[everyone chats away]

Jade: Oh also, we ran into one of the staff members from the land acculturation camp during our excursion at the Part in Plaza today.

Georgina: My, my, all the way in Ultramarine City? What an unexpected coincidence.

Jade: Indeed. He said he was glad I was enjoying myself on land.

Georgina: I see… It seems the staff there did so much to take care of you while you were there.

Georgina: Even when my husband and I would need to come to land for work, neither Jade-san nor Floyd-san would want to come with us at all…

Georgina: So there were times when we thought you would return to the sea without any interest of staying on land.

Jade: I had no idea you thought that way… This is the first I've heard of this.

Rook: The staff member we met earlier did allude to a little something from your past…

Rook: It seems to me like you didn't have much interest to the surface world when you were younger, Jade-kun.

Georgina: That's true. At the very least, it looked as if he could enjoy himself plenty under the sea without coming to the surface.

Jade: Yes, that is true. I was quite content there.

Georgina: Back then, even his teachers would report that he was doing well, with no issues.

Georgina: He would constantly be praised on his classroom etiquette, grades, and the way he presented himself…

Georgina: Which is why I was surprised one when his homeroom teacher relayed to me that "Jade-kun hasn't come to school" one day.

Jade: Ah, that was in middle school, yes.

Riddle: You mean to say you were absent from school without authorization?

Jade: That wasn't the case. I had no intention of missing classes whatsoever.

Jade: However, this situation was due to an unavoidable circumstance. That's because…

Jade: I had gone missing for three days straight.

Rook/Riddle: WHAT!?

[Ultramarine City – Sunshine Bay Restaurant]

Jade: However, this situation was due to an unavoidable circumstance. That's because…

Jade: I had gone missing for three days straight.

Rook/Riddle: WHAT!?

Riddle: Well, I assume since you're here with us now that you were able to make it home safely…

Rook: I can't just let you say that you went missing and not ask anything. …Were you caught up in some sort of incident?

Jade: …It happened a few years ago.

Jade: I went missing the day after a terrible storm. I do recall that I was quite excited that morning.

Riddle: Why's that?

Jade: Oftentimes after a rain or thunderstorm, it becomes much easier to find strange and unusual items milling about.

Jade: So while I was off wandering, I had finally found something interesting. There was an object floating in the cold, dark water.

Jade: It was giving off a faint light, shining red, blue, green in a continuous rhythmic pattern…

Jade: My younger self was completely taken in by it with one look… And so I chased after the light as it drifted further and further away from me.

Rook: To see little Jade-kun chasing after a small light within the dark depths of the ocean…

Rook: Ohh, how brave he must have been. Just imagining it brings a smile to my lips and a tug on my heartstrings.

Jade: Indeed. It's hard to say just how long my sweet, innocent baby self swam for…

Jade: My tailfin was starting to feel heavier and sluggish, and just as I was about to give up on the impossible task I had set myself…

Jade: The light I had been continuously chasing had finally appeared right before me!

Riddle: Finally, the story is getting somewhere. What happened next?

Jade: I reached out my arm as far as it would go, and just I grasped that light…

Jade: The world suddenly started spinning around me.

Jade: I had gotten caught in a whirlpool.

Jade: It was a location known to be dangerous waters that we were told not to go anywhere near…

Jade: But because I was so focused on capturing that strange light, I had ended up in such a dangerous place before I had realized it.

Jade: Goodness, how terrifying it is to possess such youthful impetuousness…

Riddle: That's not the point here, now, is it?

Riddle: For you to be caught in a whirlpool up in those northern seas… I've read in textbooks that those were the primary causes of shipwrecks in that area.

Riddle: And yet despite that you were able to find your way home unharmed… It seems you somehow have the devil's luck.

Jade: Oh no, I was not completely unharmed, not at all!

Jade: I ended up in a stretch of ocean in which I could not get even a single tiny fish to come near, and for three days and three nights, I wandered with an empty stomach…

Jade: By the time I finally made my way back to more familiar waters… I was completely despaired, thinking it was all over.

Rook: Le misérable! That must have been such a frightful experience.

Jade: Yes, I still cannot forget it to this day. When I think of the look on my mother's face as she waited for me out front of our home…

Rook: Your mother's face?

Rook: Do you mean... She looked completely worn out because you had disappeared?

Georgina: Yes, indeed. I had been so, so worried… Right, Jade-san?

Jade: …Back then, my mother simply smiled, saying, "You've finally come home…"

Jade: Before squeezing my whole body EXTREMELY TIGHTLY…

Jade: Her embrace was so tight that it would make even Floyd's squeezing taunts seem adorable.

Rook/Riddle: Well, that's…

Rook: It must have been a very warm embrace.

Jade: Absolutely. Every single bone in my body cracked.

Georgina: Mhmhm. I simply could not contain my joy when I saw my beloved son home safe for the first time in days.

Riddle: On top of breaking curfew without prior notification, he also hadn't come home for three days.

Riddle: If we consider those circumstances, it's only natural that he would have received such a severe punishment.

Georgina: Oh, it seems like things are a little more rigid in your household, Riddle-san.

Jade: Our family is fairly hands-off.

Jade: Not only have we never had a curfew, but neither have we been scolded for not coming home for a number of days.

Riddle: Eh? Then why did she… squeeze you, Jade?

Riddle: If there is no issue with you not coming home for a few days, then I can't imagine why you would have received that sort of punishment.

[Riddle comes to a realization as Georgina smiles]

Riddle: …Ah, my apologies. It wasn't a punishment, it was an embrace.

Georgina: Well, of course, it was because his school had contacted me.

Rook: I see. So that was all due to his disappearance not staying a family matter.

Georgina: That's right. I don't mind one bit if it inconveniences me. However, it is a completely different matter if it were to cause any other person trouble.

Georgina: I don't care how they spend their own time, but the onus is on them to take care of everything themselves.

Jade: In the end, after all that, just as was said, I was "squeezed" tightly…

Jade: Add onto the fact that I had been swimming for quite a long time, and my whole body was aching all over for the next few days. I ended up resting at home from school for the next week.

Jade: When I look back on it now, it truly was quite the blunder. I was severely laughed at by Floyd, as well.

Georgina: Which then led to the two of them into another big fight, so I had to hug the both of them then.

Georgina: The both of them were quite sulky for a little while after that, but by the time Jade-san was ready to go back to school, they'd completely made up…

Georgina: The next thing I knew, those two had gone off together somewhere. Children truly are a wonder.

Riddle: How utterly unrestrained… This sort of thing would never have come about in my home. Maybe that's why I'm so incompatible with you two.

Rook: I suppose this all comes from the fact that you value your children's independence.

Rook: It seems the upbringing of the Leech family is quite similar to my own family's.

Jade: Well now, that's fascinating to know. I would love to know more about your family as well, Rook-san.

Rook: Hehe, perhaps, if the opportunity unveils itself. By the way, Jade-kun…

Rook: In the end, what was that strange light that you had found?

Jade: Well…

[Ultramarine City – Sunshine Bay Restaurant]

Rook: In the end, what was that strange light that you had found?

Jade: Well…

Jade: It was a toy ring. It was the type that was battery-run and would light up…

Jade: Perhaps it was due to having been in the water for too long, but by the time I had come to, it had broken and stopped working.

Rook: Oh là là… What a shame.

Riddle: You wandered off during school hours, trespassed in a restricted location, and worst of all, you were absent from school without permission…

Riddle: THAT IS NOT NEARLY AS BIG OF A PENALTY AS YOU SHOULD HAVE RECEIVED FOR BREAKING SO MANY RULES!!

Jade: Is that so? What a harsh thing to say, Riddle-san.

Riddle: This falls nowhere near any levels of "harsh"! Besides, you fell into that dangerous situation merely because you weren't paying careful attention, right?

Riddle: So why is it that you couldn’t learn from what happened and try to fix your behavior?

Riddle: Even just the other day in alchemy class, you had to be stopped by the professor from mixing together a forbidden concoction.

Riddle: I truly cannot understand why you would do something you were told not to, despite having been given the proper warnings.

Jade: Perhaps it's because... it's simply human nature to want to do something especially after being told not to.

Riddle: DON'T SPLIT HAIRS! Good grief, this is why you're always…

Georgina: …...

Rook: Oh, is something the matter?

[They watch Riddle berate Jade]

Georgina: Hmhm, I'm just somewhat happy to see Jade-san with a friend who would be upfront and chide him like this.

Georgina: Thank you as well, Rook-san.

Georgina: It's not often that those around him understand him for who he is. I'm simply elated to have you look after him so kindly.

Rook: There's no need to thank me. I am just enjoying seeing how his mind works.

Georgina: Mhhm, to think he has such wonderful classmates and upperclassmen taking care of him… Jade-san is quite the lucky one.

Jade: Oh, my. Mother, you aren't trying to drag Rook-san into anything troublesome, are you?

Georgina: I was simply telling him how wonderful it was that you were able to become a student at Night Raven College.

Georgina: It seems that spending every single day like this with your fellow school mates has been quite a stimulating experience for you.

Jade: Yes, indeed.

Jade: A waylaid visitor from another world. A direbeast that was specially allowed to enroll as a student, despite his origins.

Jade: An upperclassman who is a world-renowned great mage.

Jade: A mysterious upperclassman with keen senses of observation and is quite receptable.

Jade: And finally, a hot-headed classmate who is not only at the top of our class, but also the Housewarden of Heartslabyul.

Jade: There are so many more individualistic personalities there as well that I never have the time to be bored.

Jade: There may come a day that I return to the ocean, yes…

Jade: But at the very least, I am certain that I still have a very enriching school life ahead of me, as well.

Jade: This experience will also be included among my school life memories… So, I must see tomorrow's Eternity Float be a success with everyone's help.

Jade: We will absolutely flip that boat as hard as we can, and recreate the tale.

Georgina: Well now, I am truly looking forward to tomorrow now.

Jade: Entrust it to me. I'm certain that this wedding will be one to remember.

Requested by @clove-noko.

[h66nki]

girl, can you do a smut pls? like, Sunghoon fingering the reader, at the point that she is overstimulted??

warnings; smut. pussy slapping. overstimulation. kinda forced orgasm? squirting.

sunghoon's arms hold you firmly by the waist while his fingers work between your legs. he's been playing with your pussy for a long time, making you squirm on his lap.

his cock presses hard and uncomfortably into your lower back, but he doesn't seem to mind. he's focused on playing with your soaked clit.

your legs are spread wide, propped up on the headrests of the front seats of the car.

"hoon... i can't take it anymore." you whimper, feeling the numbness in your legs. you've been in the same position for quite some time, and your body is taking its toll. "i've come twice, i don't think i can do it one more..."

"you can do it. i know you can." he states seriously, his middle finger moving slickly in a circular motion on your clit, forcing your body to begin generating another orgasm. "i'm toying your cunt so good, making it feel so good."

your eyes close and your legs shake, overexerted. you're not sure you can finish a third time, but sunghoon seems so confident that you can't help but doubt your ability.

"just a little more... for me," he begs. your head twists to rest against the crook of his shoulder. "come on, play with your tits. we know how useful it is for getting your hole wet."

your hands move to your chest and you begin pinching your nipples through the fabric, moaning against his lips as you obey.

sunghoon uses his other hand to caress the inside of your thighs, which are covered in sweat and moisture from your juices.

it's too much. too much.

"stop... i'm going to pee..." you ask, stopping playing with your nipples and slinging one leg off the seat.

sunghoon gets rougher, using more force to trace patterns on your clit while he holds your leg, two of his fingers inside of your warm walls fucking you open for him.

"sunghoon... i need to pee... please..." you moan, feeling a sharp pain in your lower abdomen... and that's when your orgasm finally unleashes. your cunt squirts everywhere, dirtying the seats and the floor of the car.

while you squirt, sunghoon slaps your pussy lightly, making you shake and cry on top of him. it's too much, much more than you can handle. your clit is soaked, swollen, and completely red.

"you've been so good... my good girl..." he praises, wrapping his arms around your waist as you cry into his lap. your entire body is on fire, dripping with sweat. "such a good cunt too," he murmurs, bringing his hand back to your crotch.

"no... no more..."

sunghoon looks at you, nodding his head. "no more," he affirms, caressing your sensitive pussy. "sore?" he asks in a whisper, caressing your thigh. you can't even speak from how tired you feel, simply nodding as you seek more physical contact.

"i'll kiss it better... i'll lick it all better."

hope this is nice :) thanks for your req 🩷

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

butterflygirl738 (5)

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, sickness, medical bills, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You love butterflies and your mother, but life isn’t that simple. As life gets complicated, and expensive, you find yourself in need and an unexpected miracle presents itself.

Characters: Steve Rogers (CEO/Sugar Daddy)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

This is what you wanted, isn't it? For things to get easier? For some godsend to come and save you from the deepening pit of debt and despair?

Is that what S is? Is he really going to save you? And your mother? Can his money do that? Or are you just dragging out the inevitable? Is this also just denial? False hope? What do you call it?

There's some things you can see clearly he isn't lying about. The money. It's already in your account like he said. And his car screams rich. Richer than you could ever hope to be. A rental but not the type they give to someone with nothing in the bank.

You look out at your apartment building. Those second thoughts already have you nervously picking at the edges of your nails. You take a deep breath and look straight to the windshield.

"You okay?" S asks, startling you from your doubt.

"Yeah, yeah, I... I've never lied to my mom before. Not as big as this. I mean yeah, I lied about losing her pearl earrings in grade school but that lasted all of two hours..." You frame your face and sit back in the seat. "I'm rambling. I'm sorry." You drop your arms. "And I've wasted enough of your time."

"Not wasted. Honest," He leans his hand on the steering wheel. "I'm headed to the hotel to eat room service alone." He scoffs and gives a sardonic smile. "Exciting stuff. But uh... it's a nice suite."

"Hah, yeah. Must be weird being away from home," you sniff.

"Not much different. Still empty." He shrugs.

"Uh huh," you hum thoughtfully.

"Well, you can tell your mom you went for an interview? Got something new? That could explain... things as they come up."

You pick at your lip and nod. "Makes sense."

"I could mock stuff up for you. I mean, I have letterhead," he chuckles and rubs his neck. "I'm not a great liar either, sorry."

You chuckle thinly. "It feels... hopeless." You shake your head. "Not you. Just... alright. Gotta face the music." You look at him. "S, thank you. For lunch and being patient with me. Sometimes I feel like a piece of my brain is not there." You exhale and grab the door.

"Uh, wait, before you go," he grabs your other arm then quickly lets go. You sit back and look at him. "I'm gonna be in town for a few days. So, I was hoping tomorrow we could... spend some more time together."

Your lips part. That's a surprise. You just assumed you'd have more time to adjust. To process. Time. It's precious and you don't know how much you truly have.

"Oh, right," you breathe.

"Unless... " he draws out.

"Oh, oh, I... I thought maybe you had to go back. For your business," you say as you wring your hands. Your skin is raw. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking and... you know, I have work but, I guess I'll be calling in."

"Sure, I didn't mean to blindside you. Sometimes I think things and just assume other people know," he clears his throat. "So, I'll pick you up tomorrow morning."

"Yeah," you agree and pull the handle, pushing the door out. "Please, go get some rest. You flew out here, it must've been a long day."

"It's sweet of you to think of me," he says.

"Good night," you smile and stand straight. You shut the door and turn to look up at the dingy apartment building.

You drag your feet forward. Your lips move silently as you rehearse your lies. You purse them and slant your mouth one way than the other.

You almost collide with someone else as they come out of the building. You step out of their way and wait. You glance back. S idles at the curb. You wave before you go inside.

You climb the stairs one at a time. You're wading through molasses. As you get to the apartment door, you hesitate. Stop. Get yourself together. This isn't against her, it's for her. This could save your mom.

You enter and the deja vu makes you feel out of place. Everything is as it should be yet it feels like it's all changed. Your mom is on the couch, reading, her head in her hand, her finger feeling the edge of her scarf. You shut the door gently.

"Hi mom," you say as you put your bag down. You sanitize your hands before you go any further. "How was your day?"

"Good," she sits up. "You were gone a while. I thought it was your day off."

"I'm sorry, I didn't... say." You linger by the entryway. "So, uh, I really didn't want to get my hopes up and... I thought I'd surprise you..." you let the words dangle. You watch her, waiting for her to challenge you. She looks tired. "I went for an interview and er, I got it."

"An interview?" She echoes.

"Yeah. It pays better, so I said yes... and... yeah."

"Another store?"

"Um... admin?" You say.

Her lashes flutter and she smiles. "Wow, that's great, pie. Very good." The book closes in her lap and she brings her hands up to her face. "Can you help me to bed? I'm feeling nauseous."

"Oh, of course, mom."

You near her and offer your arm. She gets up and you help her around the couch. She doesn't even have the energy to doubt you. She has bigger problems. She's staring down that abyss and you're worried about a little white lie. She doesn't need to know, she doesn't need to worry. She just needs to get better.

🦋

S arrives at nine. You're outside waiting. You're anxious, not excited. You feel bad enough leaving your mom for work, but this feels wrong. Not just that you're lying to her, but about what.

You get in the car as he smiles at you. "Good morning, I brought coffee," he announces proudly.

You look at the paper cups. You smile back. It feels strangely normal. This is what you see on TV. Real couples do this. This isn't real.

"Thanks, that's so nice," you say. You buckle in and peer around. You feel like you're being watched. Like one of the neighbours will tattle on you. "H--How was your night?"

"Not too bad. Watched a movie. Fell asleep before it ended," he snorts as he pulls away from the curb. "Old man hours."

"Ah," you nod. "I just read a bit. Checked on the butterflies."

"They getting close?" He asks.

"Yeah. Should be soon I think."

"Hm. Nice. You eat yet?" He asks.

"I had some toast." You answer.

"Cool. I hope you don't mind a bit of a road trip? I found this place in the next town. Has good reviews."

"Oh, it's totally up to you but... I don't want to be too much," you scratch your neck.

"This is the deal, right? Spending time together. So don't worry about being too much. Just try to enjoy yourself," he girds.

"Right, yes, I just... guess it's been a while since I did anything for fun. God, that sounds lame, doesn't it?" You ask.

"Lame or it means you've been working hard." He says.

"I guess so," you agree.

He drives on and you stare through the window. It's better that you leave town. It's not like you're well-known but you don't need to chance anyone seeing you with him. Out-of-towners always tend to inspire gossip. Mom doesn't go out much but...

Your mind won't stop. You try to calm it as the minutes tick by. Your worries are replaced by curiosity. Where exactly is he taking you?

Before you can assume the worst, you recognise the large stone behind the town sign. You haven't been around this way in years. He steers past the green park and through town square.

As he pulls in at the vaguely familiar yellow brick building, you can't help but pinch yourself. How could he know? Maybe just a lucky guess. You went to the conservatory once as a child. You realised later how expensive that birthday trip was.

"Here we are," S says. "I know it's nothing fancy."

"It's... it's great," you say. "I love this place."

"You've been here?"

"Not in ages but once," you answer.

"Ah, I should've figured."

He grabs his phone and wallet as the engine quiets. He gets out and slides them into his back pockets. You undo your belt and climb out as he comes around the car.

We waves you ahead of him toward the arched front doors. He pulls one open and lets you through first. He approaches the desk and takes out his phone. He has them scan his passes and puts it away again.

He turns to you and offers his hand. You stare for a moment before you accept. His skin is warm.

He takes you through the entryway to the first wing. Here they have all the antiquated inventions; funky looking glasses with stacked lenses and scientific tools you couldn't guess at the purpose of. You stop to read the placards as S leans in to admire the objects.

"Probably not your favourite part," he says.

"I don't mind. I like old things."

"Ah, me too. Maybe one day... well, who knows, I might take you to the museum in New York... but... who knows," he shrugs.

"Maybe," you say. You don't know about all that. That's a long way away.

You continue on around the winding exhibits and into the room with the live exhibits. Insects of all kinds. You let go of S and stop to watch the bees in the hive with a tunnel to the outside world. There's a little sign explaining that the conservatory houses the hive as a protective effort.

"They have a new part to it," S says. "I saw it on the website. Down that way."

"Oh," you back up. "Sure, whatever you want to do."

He leads you on. You admire the windows that look onto colonies and tunnels of different insects. You stop short at the next door. 'Butterfly Room.' You look at S. The last time you came, you remember there was one tiny little exhibit of unhatched chrysalis.

You rush through ahead of him in excitement. A blue flutter brushes over your forehead and another flap of yellow sweeps by. You spin as the lazy wings beat around you, others still as butterflies rest on petals or branches. It's a menagerie. A garden full of colours.

You turn and look all around. You're breathless and amazed. In that moment, there's nothing else but the beauty of those creatures.

You smile and tilt your head up. A monarch lands on your nose and you freeze. S laughs and you look over at him as he aims his phone at you. The butterfly flees.

He turns the screen to show you the picture. You blush and rock bashfully. "That's cute."

"It is," he agrees."

"S," you gasp, "this is amazing."

"It is." He looks around and lowers his phone. "It's nice to have someone to enjoy it with."

"It is," you cheep. You turn and follow the path of a white flutter.

You go to the bench and sit. It's bittersweet. It's nice to not be alone, but you wish it was your mom here with you. She's all you have but with her being sick, it only sinks in then, how lonely you've really been. She's there but not really. She's fighting a battle you can't understand.

S sits beside you. He's quiet. You blink away a glaze of tears.

"It's really beautiful," you say. "Thank you so much. I can't... I can't even begin to tell you how much..." You sniff. "How much I appreciate this."

"You don't have to say it," he assures you.

"But I should. There's so much I never say. So much to say. So much I might never have the chance..." you lower your head. "I'm really trying. I don't want to be sad. I don't want to ruin this day." You exhale. "You didn't pay to watch me mope."

"I did. I paid to be close to you. To be with you," he shifts closer. "And whatever that means, is fine with me." He puts his hand on yours, like the day before. It doesn't feel as strange anymore. "I don't want you to think about that. The money. I want you to have a nice day. With me."

You nod and gulp. You breathe out the emotion and look at him.

"Why?" You croak.

He stares at you. His cheek dimples. "I got lucky. I took a chance... and I met you."

He squeezes your hand and you look down. His hand wraps easily around yours. It makes you feel safe. It's been so long since you felt anything close to that.

[raytoebiter]

xvii. wut i liek abt u (written work)

Your phone blared, raucous sounds treading through the halls of airy tiles. For fuck’s sake, you are horrendously late for that 1:1 Meeting you were supposed to arrive five fucking minutes ago.

Reason for your current horrible tardiness, whatsoever?

Scaramouche.

You have no fucking idea why or how you once thought that it'd be all fucking sunshines and rainbows when the notion of being friends with him was presented to you like it was rain to drought. Perhaps, it was by the fact that you've seen him in such odious light for so long that the idea of even seeing him in anything but such gives you..hope?

Was it hope you felt—or relief that you could be somewhat of a semblance resembling that of a friend to him?

Well, whatever you felt three or fuck days ago doesn't matter the fuck now. Because, that Asshole obviously made the conscious and obnoxious decision to.. what? You ask?

Tie your goddamn shoe laces to one of the chairs. Which led you to stumble, face-first, into the scrumptious fucking floor.

Why.

You're so serious, why. At this point, this isn't even innocent rivalry anymore; this is just pure bullying.

(You disregard the numerous occurrences wherein you hung his earphones over the fan, sending it in a spiral as it did its job. Also that one time you tried sweeping him off the feet—not figuratively, shut the fuck up—with a broom, only to backfire and send the both of you to cleaning duty on lunch for three days.)

‘Either way, I'll make sure to put a good motherfucking word on that asshole’s name. Treat him like god, or something. Hell, even Keqing would be surprised. The others better be fucking ready for my goddamn praise for fuck’s sake—’

Okay, deep breaths. One, two, three, four—

“Mom, why is she breathing like that?”

Fucking hell.

–

“So,” Keqing curiously raises her brows, keen eyes flitting to the clock then to you with suspicion, “it's not like you to be late. Nearly 30 minutes at that, as well.”

A placating and apologetic smile rose to your lips, hoping to unease the seething aura that straightened equilibrium is radiating, ‘cause holy shit, I can literally feel how annoyed she is and she looks fucking normal, “I’m sorry. I didn't mean it, truly. It's just that.. you-know-who held me up.”

She blinks, said ‘seething aura’ ebbing away once the secret identity of ‘you-know-who’ dawns on her, and she snickers, “seriously? him again? for someone as brilliant as you, you sure have your short-comings with getting along with some certain people, huh?”

You shrink back in your seat, squirming in displeasure, “don't even mention it.”

An amused smile. Then, she reaches for the chair and pulls it back; all the while bringing the laptop closer, “well, I'm sure we can talk about your problems later. Please assist me on this. It's quite a struggle, if I must admit.

‘Thank fuck she didn't press on,’ you thought, squinting at the bold letters of the headline.

–

It's a good ol’ two hour study session about how The Great Depression fucked the entirety of US because of Donald Trump’s great predecessor; Herbert Fucking Hoover.

It was a great lesson, really. All about stuff like, “why we should always know the importance of having a budget”—which you should definitely lecture Hu tao about; because she sure loves spending money on those coffin keychains that's on sale this month.

Currently, the library is entrancingly washed in that afternoon light as rays of sunlight peeked through the gaps of curtains and painted those beneath it a golden color of stripes and spots. Said library in Teyvat High equated to the library in Sumeru Academy, which is an incredible achievement in itself considering that Sumeru is quite widely known for its adept scholars.

“Mhm, I'll be there soon,” Keqing hummed, stacking her papers as she shifted to maneuver the phone properly between her ear and shoulder, “probably around.. 5:00PM, Is that okay?”

A few more, “yeah,” “okay, okay,” and she hangs up.

An apologetic huff left her lips, “sorry to cut this off, [Name]. Ganyu really needs help with her research paper. Something about.. economics, was it?”

You smiled, “it's fine. I need to go to the café anyway, I have a shift in 30 minutes.”

“Great!” She perked, “I'll get going then.”

“Make sure to tell Ganyu to read newspapers. It'll help!”

Keqing and Ganyu. The proficient duo in the campus; some speculate they're dating, but really, they're just great friends. You wouldn't be surprised if they started dating though. Ms. Ningguang would definitely approve of their relationship.

Sighing, you checked the time before starting to arrange the horrible amount of papers scattered, and god, I still have that maths assignment due on Saturday—which is—fuck! tomorrow? fucking tomorrow!? God, I'm gonna kill myself, I shouldn't have eaten lunch today and finished it at that time instead—

“Wow, you really do mumble.”

You flinched, head haphazardly turning to the source of noise and, what the fuck, is that Childe?

“What are you doing here, Mister..” you subtly squinted, digging through your Long Ass memory collection of titles you memorized out of boredom, “Tartaglia, eleventh of the Role Model Council.”

He rolled his eyes, making a hand slash face gesture of, ‘don't call me by that name, it sounds stupid,’ before pulling out a chair from one of the tables (one wherein Keqing just sat; you narrowed your eyes), “sit down, let's have a talk, shall we?”

Then, as the words flows out of his mouth, a sneaky—akin to that of a fucking fox—grin creeps over to his face, painting the planes of his face into a sharp, eerie image. And, what the fuck. A buzz courses through you; a fucking sign of bad omen.

Tick fucking tock.

‘What the fuck is about to happen to me.’

–

“O..kay, you're telling me,” you exasperatedly pinched your nose, “you want me to go on another date in exchange for another hang-out with the Asshole.”

The Ginger Freak—a title you dubbed to him fifteen minutes ago—beams, illusory cherry flowers blooming at the sides of his bright face, “absolutely! You won't mind coffee, right?”

You mustered up the most blank and deadpanned look you could manage; hopefully radiating waves of hopelessness and what-the-fuck-ness.

He doesn't understand. He doesn't understand how earth-shattering it was for you to bow to the shittiest Asshole in school and lick his boots.

Re: the hang-out was an enormous smack-in-the-ass for your dignity that it stood on equal footing to giving a damn feet-job of your fucking cousin or whatever. It also unlocked a few epiphanies that constantly buzzed in the outer corners of your mind as you studied.

Though, the biggest fat fucking elephant standing in the damn room right now (as wide as the fucking shelves which goes over 15 meters, by the way) is the question that you decide to voice out loud: “Do you actually like me, or are you just setting me and the—..me and Scaramouche up?”

The Ginger Freak tensed, shoulders subtly squaring as the corner of his lips twitched. If you hadn't paid attention, you would've missed it.

A pregnant air settled over the atmosphere, sending chills on your back as you flashed him your customary customer-service smile, “well?”

Another imperceptible twitch in the muscles of his biceps. Then, a ‘damn, you caught me!’ huff.

“Ugh, busted,” he pouted, the sight childish.

An amused snicker, “acting all sly like that differs from the hearsay I've heard from you, you know.”

“‘s that so?”

“Uh huh,” you nodded, raising a brow, “now spill, hurry up.”

The table rattled as he frantically stood up, inadvertently making noise and therefore attracting fucking noise, and holy shit, you're going to duct-fucking-tape this Ginger’s mout—,“another hang-out! Please!”

You blinked, appeasement slowly washing over your face, “okay?”

Another blink, this time, it comes from bright ocean eyes, “yes!”

“Okay, first, sit down,” amusement tugged at the end of your lips; he really did look like a golden retriever, “okay, good. Now, listen to me: why do you want us two to hang out so badly? I mean, it's really coming off.. weird, you know?”

“Is that what it's coming off as?” He inquired innocently, with the tilt and whatnot, “I assure you it's not like that. I'm just worried for him, you know? Pooks is usually left alone in his home, so he often comes over to mine or Furina’s. But nowadays, we've both been busy and the others can't exactly…”

“Give the space he needs?” You finished, ignoring the pet name he casually referred to the biggest Asshole on earth.

“Yep,” he cheerfully snaps his fingers, popping off the ‘p’.

“So, in other words, you want me to be his caretaker.”

“Not like that..”

“Don't give me that look—it sounds exactly like it.”

His cheeriness is as quick to fade as it appeared and he deflates like a balloon, an apologetic pout crawling over his features, “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have burdened you with this.”

…Cute. Gah! Wait, no!

Then, in a fit of Cuteness Crisis, you clumsily sputter out, “No! it's fine, I can totally hang out with the Asshole anytime he wants to! Or.. if you want to—wait, what the fuck am I sayin—”

And before you could even spiral about the careless slip, the table stupidly fucking rattles again, this time; with more noise and more annoyed ‘hushes’ resonating in the air as Childe, the Motherfucking Cute Dickhead, hushedly squeals in a boyishness you find endearing, “great! so great. oh my god, that's so awesome, dude! seriously, thank you!”

There's practically sparkles swimming in the gleams of those lit-up eyes and, fffuuuccckkk, he's so cute and hot, I'm going to fucking scream. Hopefully by the universe above, the infuriating heat that's burning the fat of your cheeks isn't as visible as you think they fucking are because that's really fucking embarrassing.

A fleeting three-minutes passed of shared laughs and giggles, before Childe concerningly pauses.

Keyword: concerningly because the Ginger Freak never pauses like Satan, himself, slurped the soul out of his body for fucking breakfast.

It's only a 3-second warning before a nuclear hits you in the fucking face, all the while shouting, ‘fucking bull’s eye, motherfucker!’ because—

“Wait, are you doing this because you like, like Scaramouche? Serious mode, this time.”

It's also a 3-second moment of stoically staring at him. Point dead in the fucking eye, because, what the fuck did he just say. No, scratch that. What he says next is probably even worse.

“Ah, wait, no. It's okay, I get it. The last hang-out was a date, right?” he smugly winks at the mention of the D-word, probably for another teaspoon of stress to boiling crimson.

And, god. How many insufferable accusations of you having a silly little crush over him will it take before you fucking explode? Because, right now, exactly in this goddamn moment is this one shitty hell of an accusation that is so close to crossing over the gateway to hell.

Deep breaths, one.. two.. three.. “Childe.”

“Hm?”

“Serious mode, as well—please stop convincing yourself that I like him. I truly really,” you grit out a smile, strained and so clipped, “really don't like him.”

A smirk, undeterred despite your seething frame, “well, serious mode too, then. I suggest at least befriending him, ya know? Even though he's an asshole most of the ti—okay fine, he is an asshole, entirely, jeez.. don't look at me like that..”

He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, a genuine and fond smile tilting the slightest corner of his lips, “but you know, he's still kinda precious to me. If you get what I mean. I know I should've asked someone.. more compatible, but right now, what you two have... is like, more than just being compatible or close. It's something deeper and rare. And frankly, it’s the kind of connection most people spend their whole lives hoping to find, if you know what I mean?”

‘What you two have... is like, more than just being compatible or close. It's something deeper and rare. And frankly, it’s the kind of connection most people spend their whole lives hoping to find.’

Another of that fond, genuine smile as he leans back in his chair, the sound creaking, “we seriously thought that you were just some ordinary rival he’d piss off in a day and then ignore, back then, ya know? It was weird seeing him talk about you a week later when you told to..”

‘What you two have... is like, more than just being compatible or close. It's something deeper and rare. And frankly, it’s the kind of connection most people spend their whole lives hoping to find.’

“Ya know, what you said to him, and I quote, “I'll send your dismembered body to hell and back if you don't leave me the fuck alone. And he never really did leave you alone, did he?”

‘What you two have... is like, more than just being compatible or close. It's something deeper and rare. And frankly, it’s the kind of connection most people spend their whole lives hoping to find.’

Seriously, what the fuck is that supposed to mean!?

Disgust—or is it really?—burns the back of your throat, and an unusual wave of warmth slithers all the way from your neck to your throat. And, holy motherfuck, what is happening to me. The warmth that coursed through was not a blush. It definitely leaned more towards the side of embarrassment, shame and humiliation. Yeah, that's what it was. Nothing more, nothing less, stat.

An internal slap in the face was all it took to snap back to confusion swimming in the glimmer of ocean gaze and a vexatious smile that is probably about to part and ask, “are you okay?”

Yes, you are fucking peachy. Not okay, but fucking peachy.

It doesn't come, though—because the second his lips parted, the annoying fuckass ringtone you've grown accustomed to shrieks in the fucking library, out of all places, and it dawns on you then that you completely forgot to mute Phone Calls.

The two of you turn to the noise; one flinching and swerving head left to right to gawk at other patrons who're clearly pissed off by the numerous times they caused unnecessary noise, whereas the other.. the other is fucking dead.

One look at your phone and the bright, “insufferable asshole whom i shall not dare interact.”

Also, the little note on your fuckass alarm which helpfully wrote, “clean up the damn tables in case of piss” kindly reminded you that the shift you spoke of was merely.. an hour ago? or, was it forty-minutes ago? In other words, you're late. Again.

You scramble to snatch the phone from your bag, quickly pressing the ‘decline’ button before asking the Ginger Freak to help organize the fucking clutter on the table–which he hectically agrees to, and he effortlessly swoops it all, stacking them as the papers caused repetitive little ‘thump’ against laminated wood.

Ugh. Ginger Freak with freaky long arms.

All it takes is one glance, and ‘the 99+ notifications’ manages to catch your eye first. Then, the, “do you want to fucking die where the fuck are you I know you're out there somewhere” message from you-know-who comes second.

A dull ache from your temple.

Shoving back the Token of Bad Luck (phone) in your bag, you hastily took the stack of papers, offering a small smile of gratitude, “uh, I didn't get to say this, but erm—you don't have to come to the date. Just tell me about it beforehand. And, admittedly, I also.. want to befriend the Asshole, so.. you're just doing me a favour here, and I appreciate it.”

Favour. In the name of Scaramouche. God, who would've thought?

The Ginger Freak lit up like someone had shined a flashlight through his nostrils, before smugly replying with a wink for dramatic flair, “well, I'm still going on that date. I’d like to get to know someone as fine as you are.”

“Right,” you stood up with a sound in-between a chuckle and a snort, already heading towards the exit, “whatever you say, I'll see you then?”

He grins mischievously, “yeah, see ya, babe.”

Lazy sunlight stuttered through gaps of trees that lined the start of the entrance road, rendering the pavement of constant light and dark shapes. It truly painted a pretty picture, which reminded you that winter is fucking coming and so is the quiz bee and examination.

Speaking of the quiz bee, the Mathematics Department hasn't decided on any pairs yet, and you kind of wonder when the choosing of the pairings will be. A niggling and annoying goblin nags at your nerves; prancing around and constantly mentioning a certain grape-haired asshole.

The familiar Scaramouche-Induced-Migraine that swelled behind your eyes was another massive fuck you! from the universe.

A subtle twitch in the neurons of your brain as you reeled back all the way to Childe’s words; words being: ‘what you two have... is like, more than just being compatible or close. It's something deeper and rare. And frankly, it’s the kind of connection most people spend their whole lives hoping to find.’

What the fuck is that supposed to mean!? And, hey, listen. Your mind absolutely blanked the fuck out at the mention of you two being more than rivals, because. Come on, these types of things? Playing ‘pulling pigtails’ with the asshole you've never directly interacted at all before you two were sent on the same hellscape? Doing the relentless jabs at each other thinking it was all friendly (friendly, my feet)? That's casual rivals. Seriously.

Are you in-denial? Certainly the fuck not. In textbook terms, something more than rivals is most likely to be acquaintances, friends—hell, even lovers (yuck).

Acquaintances is out of the fucking list, because you do know the fucker and are begrudgingly close with the asshole. So is friends because—a friend requires mutual care, and you do not give two fucks, two shits if the asshole had his dick cut off during circumcision and is in grief about it.

And—lovers? Yeah, no, might as well shoot yourself.

A noise of breath left your nose; brows furrowing and whatnot, a bubbling frustration emerging from the pit of your stomach. Feelings are a pain-in-the-ass, that's for sure. And so, you shoved the noxious notions far up your ass, and locked the fucking door.

Soon enough, the sign that read, “Rosis Café” all worn and weary entered your line of sight. You snuck a glance through the arched windows; and there in his mighty benevolence, the Asshole’s flashing a motherfucking pretty smile to the elderly. It's quite horrible how poorly stifled the old lady’s resistance to his “charm”, really.

You snorted, already treading up the cramped staircase. The bells jingled, the warmed-colored light seeped through an ajar of the door until it fully opened with a creak; and there, you met eyes with pale purple, blinking and blinking.

A cursory thought of Scaramouche, the asshole, potentially being possessed by an angel flashed through your mind, before the idea immediately gets dunked.

The bells jingled, gaze broken, as the door quietly shut. Few patrons you knew well greeted you with enthusiasm and light jest, and you persisted to ignore the little asshole’s gaze drilling to your frame all the while responding to said enthusiasm and light jest with reciprocity, until you reached the corridors, and then, the staff room.

The worn-out lock clicked, and a resigned sigh left your lips; body already slumping to the small bench as your bag slipped through your shoulders, dropping with a thump. And this. This is why being late fucking sucks.

Snapping away from your thoughts, you scurried to change out of your clothes, reaching for the work clothes. Then, out of the blue, a thrilling thought dawned on you; you could play the speakers now. Lightly grinning, you quickly changed, before making way to the shabby laptop tucked all the way in the corner.

Your grandmother had planned initially to buy a new one, but since the model of said shabby laptop could handle bluetooth and the necessities to handle a speaker, she shrugged the idea off. Begrudgingly, that is. She really wanted a new laptop.

(Cue your perfect idea for a Beloved Christmas Gift. Your leather wallet honestly feels really loaded with all the coins you saved up since nearly a week ago.)

The screen brightened to life, and you made swift work to connecting with the speakers and opening the playlist you had sent; albeit a bit slow, but boo fucking hoo, it's all you have and you can't really complain.

Not long, the speakers immediately made a noise; something akin to a radio glitching. Then, the familiar cadence of a male’s voice slithered through, and instantly, your mood sparked at the recognition.

Jeff buckley. Dream of you and I. An underrated classic, often overshadowed by his “Grace” album; which said album also managed to win a spot in the Rolling Stones list. It was an amazing time of music, your grandmother quoted. Either way, your personal favourite from Jeff Buckley had to be this song, and it's truly been a while since you've listened to it.

A smile tugged at your lips, nostalgic and all the sappy soft shit, then you stood up; reaching for the doorknob as it made a ‘click’ sound once again. Mild cinnamon and caffeine curled through the air, scent so thick that the taste of it lingered on the taste buds of your tongue like bees.

As you passed the corridor, a flick of a tongue resonated.

“Look who finally came. You're an hour late, by the way.”

Not for the first time, your eye twitched, “shut up, I got held up.”

A long, thoughtful look, before he strides over to you, immediately closing the distance and warmth rushes through your cheeks—then, a flick of the wrist and a sharp pain bloomed on the vast space of your forehead, “that's for being late, and for calling The Ginger Grinch hot.”

Your hand found itself hovering over the pain, as if it would offer consolation, “he is hot!”

Another tedious, agonizing look, “hot, my ass. That guy jerks off to sonadow.”

Oh. How morbid. Doesn't change the fact that the guy is hot, though. So, really, what the hell is his point?

Notable silence lingered, before another click of a tongue ushered you to the counter, all the while rubbing at the pain in hopes of easing the sharpness of it. Damn that asshole. You hope he crashes his Porsche sometime soon.

Ere long, the speakers played, “Easy lover by Philip Bailey”. And you hummed along the lines of the tune, sentimental and utterly oblivious of ivy fuckeyes looming over your form.

–

It's 6:00PM when the dark hours of nighttime seeps through the windows, and you take it as your cue to bring light to the entryway of the café. It's also 6:00PM when the last of the bustling customers walk out of the building with a satisfied glee to their face.

“You have dinner?” He mindedly asks, attention already drifting as he pops the portafilter to the holder. The sound of beep, beep chorusing in the empty café.

“Nope.” As usual. What's new, really.

Rolling his eyes, he flaccidly leans back into the counter sideways, both eyes now set on you, “of course. What do you want, onigiri or sushi?”

The fuck does he mean “of course”? Does he want to get kicked in the crotch, or something? And, no fucking way are you letting him buy you food again. You owe him nothing.

You sent him a glance, hopefully full of virulence and deadpan, “shut up, I can take care of myself just fine. Besides, I already went and grabbed food.. on the way here.”

“You do know that's called a fucking snack, right? Not dinner?”

“I still ate,” you retort, subtly pointing with your brow at the cheesecake category, “and it was.. barely five hours ago, I'll be fine.”

A grunt, an extremely irritated one, “that's called lunch, you fucking idiot.”

“Still—”

“No, shut up,” he clicks off the portafilter, swirling the cup as he effortlessly does a small heart on the Latte, “you're eating fuckass onigiri.”

Eyeing him, a frown twisted your face, utterly confused because why the fuck does he keep buying me food, “ugh, how much do I pay you?”

“Zero.''

“Shut your trap, how much?”

“I said, zero. Take it, or shove it up your ass. I don't care.”

“You're so crass,” you say, eyeing him as he throws the onigiri.

He flashes you a pseudo smile, “it's my charm. Now sit pretty, and eat there. It's our break, you damn fruitcake.”

Oh. Yeah, break. You haven't even noticed.

Circling around the counter, you pulled out a chair at one of the tables, and you sat on it like a Turk. For brief minutes, nothing was exchanged between the two of you, and god, numerous of obnoxious ideas in starting the conversation with—hey, you asshole, why'd you tie my shoes to the chair earlier—or—i told keqing i was late because of you, by the way— or—you shithole, what happened to you when i called you sweetheart—or—did you know childe thinks we're much more than just rivals—swam through your head, but all of them instantly melted at the fury that rose to your nerves at the thought of telling the former to the Asshole.

Fucking hell, you thought as you bit into the rice situated on your palms, why the fuck is it so awkward? why is he not talking. do I have to talk? I don't want to, though. Makes me look.. fucking needy, or whatever. Ugh, I still have to ask him to hang-out, but it's fucking night-time already. Should I just kill myself—

“Stop mumbling, you freak,” he snorts, the sound harsh and sharp.

At his remark, you discreetly diverted your gaze at the Asshole, who's currently perched in making fucking coffees or whatever, and absentmindedly wondered if someone shat on his breakfast. Probably seems to be the case though, considering how uptight he is right now.

‘Heh. Reminds me a lot of when he first arrived here. When was that? A month ago? Two months? God.’

“Fucking stingy asshole, yet he gives so many fucking onigiris like I'm some charity nutcase,” you inaudibly muttered with a frown, eyes roaming until all you could see was the damn tiled floor, “what the hell is up with him?”

–

The Fawkward Break passes by uneventfully. No words were exchanged, because being a Certified Pussy Conversationalist is a propensity you feel proud of having. And so, you continue your remaining shift in the staff room, because everyone is out in restaurants with proper foods and meals. And. Well. Take one guess and one look at what kind of an establishment you work at.

Mindlessly, you scrolled through the playlist, hopelessly torn between choosing, “(I Just) died in your arms,” or “What’s love got to do with it?”

Both are admittedly good to their bourne. And that's precisely why you're having a hard time. You pull at your bottom lip, squinting and squinting at the album covers, nitpicking all the colors within it as if that fucking helps.

Eventually, you tentatively decide on the former, and the male singer’s voice stretches as he sings out. Humming a satisfied noise, your feet leads you to the counter, only to find absolutely no customers in sight and for fuck’s sake, you're alone with him. Awesome shit.

The universe really does fucking hate you.

‘Oh I, I just died in your arms tonight It must've been something you said I just died in your arms tonight.’

“Did you know that dying is often used as like, a fucking euphemism for orgasm?”

A slow blink and frigid movement, startled by the sudden chance of conversation, “...um, uh, yeah? I mean, he was having sex with his girlfriend in this song, after all.”

You actually don't remember. Was it his girlfriend? or wife? Gulping, you swiftly passed by him, hoping by gods that he did not notice the quickening in your pace as you unceremoniously (or at least you tried) flopped on a beanbag.

His lips pursed into a thoughtful line, “there was.. a controversial theory circling around this guy, you know? Like some shit about him fucking a school girl, or whatever.”

What. You've never even heard about that, “what?”

“Yeah, fuckmunch,” a snicker, “a lot of the lyrics implies a shit ton of metaphors that involve children in it. And the dumbfucks in the 1980s thought that, “oh! fucking pedo that singer is!””

There's enthusiasm that's so distinguishable in the way the lilt of his voice rises just a tiny tad bit, and a fucking dangerous thought—that has completely nothing to do with how fucking cute the motherfucker’s voice is—crosses the roads of Dignity and Pride. Which is a whole level of fucking bad, and your brain fucking squeaks in motherfucking internal alert.

“Which is fuckin’ hilarious, by the way. But moving on, a lot of the lyrics actually suggested or implied him being guilty of having sex with a kid. Like, listen here–”

Listen to what? The fucking blarings in your brain, or the kicking of your rapid heartbeat beating the fuck out of your poor ribcage? Both of the options makes you wanna kill yourself. So, really, listen to what?

Scaramouche continues with boastful fervor–an actual! fucking! sincere! smile! on his! fucking! face!–and you burn toe-to-head, “and, then–a bunch of fuckassers decided that–[Name]? Are you fucking listening to me, or are you—are you imagining ten ways to fuck this portafilter to shitty Sunday, or something? Stop staring at me like I grew a dick from my mouth and say something, dipshit.”

Upon the second he uttered those words, dread quickly ran over you like a big fat ass truck, chasing away the fluttery bullshit haunting your ass prior, “shut up. That doesn't even make sense. Wouldn't that just mean you're doing a burgeoning blow job?”

“Burgeoning—are you fucking serious,” Absolutely, you want to say, but he, on the other hand, doesn't seem to be serious, considering the Asshole looks near constipated trying to stifle the amusement between his lips. Your heart slightly skips amidst its dying pace.

Sighing in a ‘done with your shit’ way, you narrowed your eyes suspiciously, “I will never get why you find dick jokes funny.”

Then, unbothered by the change of topic, he raises a brow, “yet you make one just as easily and effortlessly. ‘Sides the whole thing is just a damn spongy tissue, anyway. It's not like it's something so vile or vicious.”

“Yeah, sure,” you rolled your eyes, averting your gaze away from the shit-eating Asshole, “but once that thing gets near me, I'm cutting it off, and feeding it to the cats.”

A scoff, “Speaking of cats, remember the cat I stole from here a month and a half ago?”

Oh, right.

Shifting from your seat, a hum of curiosity and an affirmative invitation for him to talk left your lips.

“I have a name for her now. Went to get her to the vet a week ago, and she doesn't have any fucking diseases sucking her ass.

Your lips formed an appease ‘o’ and an inaudible, “that's nice” and he mischievously continued, leaning into the outer counter, laid-back and all that, “I'm naming her Missile Launcher Three Thousand One o’one.”

Missile Launcher Three Thousand One o’.. what?

“What did you just say?”

“Missile Launcher 3000-101; and her nickname? Missy.”

“What.. what is that name. Like, seriously,” you ghastly levelled the Asshole with the most disgruntled expression you could muster, “what is wrong with you.”

“Fuck off, you don't get to bash the name. You didn't even listen to my wonderful fucking rant about the Pedo Cutting Crew Theory.”

“...I'm sleepy, okay? Exams are coming,” it's not exactly wrong, but it's not entirely the reason why you've been drifting on and off.

A roll of his eyes, unconvinced, which—okay, reasonable, when have you ever let an excuse like that deter your focus? You indignantly huff, brows furrowing and determined to make your point, “hey, it is true! Maybe, it could be because your conspiracy theory is just so boring that it makes me yawn, you know?”

“Haah? It's not even my theory and I just wanted to—fucking, I don't know, share? Tch, fuck off. Whatever.”

A snort, “and for wh—”

Oh. Wait, is that why..

You deliberately shove down the fluttery pressure building in the guts of your chest.

“What true and profound conversational extraordinaire you are, huh?”

“..As if you're any better, choke on piss, fruitcake.”

You mildly scoff, this time leaning more towards the side of amusement, “at least I don't name my cat after literal bombs or jets. Who the hell names their cat like that?”

“Someone who can rub their two brain cells together, and you know who that fucking is?” He swiftly points a finger to himself, “me, of course, unlike your flimsy ass.”

Resisting the urge to shove a middle finger up his face, you rolled your eyes, leering all the while, “so cocky. No one would ever guess that a hotshot like you are would be so damn crass. I should ask for an autograph sometime, and maybe sell it to your future fans so I can get an extra 10 dollars and some shit.”

Scaramouche simply smirked smugly, “well this hotshot over here has great music taste.”

“What—”

“I'm changing the playlist, by the way. Guide me tomorrow on how to use the old ass laptop,” he flashed a smug look (eerily familiar except this one is tainted with all its vainglory), as he glanced to the right, precisely at the direction of the door, “80s songs in cafés are way too overrated anyway.”

Your eye shakily twitched at the remark, the Good Ol’ Scaramouche-Induced-Migraine sinking its teeth into the hypothalamus of your brain.

What the fuck is that supposed to fucking mean? Fucking overrated? In cafés? Is he calling your music taste.. bland? boring!?

Is he fucking serious?

You furiously rose up from your seat, mouth ajar to fucking argue because there's no fucking way is he calling your music taste bland when 80s songs are quite literally the Music of all time and—

“Welcome!”

Then, as if on fucking cue—a dazzling mother and her two kids enter the café with giddy smiles; excitement and the joy of childish wonder ebbing through the little skips of feet. The Asshole gracefully stood behind the counter, an easygoing pseudo-grin plastered on the shitty asshole’s doll-like face.

And, here you are in the scene; fists clenched, eyes bloodshot—with how fast the curious shine within the eyes of the children instantly drained out from their petite bodies the second they met your eyes—probably, body in a fighting stance, hair disheveled, expression bloody and borderline murderous, and a mind ready to gobble a whole fucking person.

“Mommy! A scary monster!”

“O-oh, I'm so sorry! Hush, dear!”

Fucking hell.

───────────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────────────────

|| previous episode - next episode. ||

───〃★tunes of your heartbeat masterlist

synopsis: in which your fate somehow gets entangled into a messy jumble between punk music in cozy cafés, intense rivalry, cherished yakults, parallelograms and quantum physics, competitions in contests and rainy days. or in other words; the universe seems to fucking hate your guts for whatever reason and decided to curse your love life with your awful crass emo twink-a-fuck rival. the question is; did the curse work?

taglist (50/50): @toekissers , @raineyun @localscarasimp , @potteraep , @shutingstar , @feiherp , @scaraenthusiast1 @dazqa , @wraithisd3adinside , @x-hihihi-x , @court-jester-stuff , @automaticpatroltragedy , @lalalaloveallmydays , @trulyylee , @jayzioxx , @featuredtofu @kazemiya @help-whatdoimakemyusername , @skyoverkill1 @phoenix-eclipses , @anqelkoz , @miyakomari @saechiro @franaby , @swivi , @vixialuvs , @heusalettle @kunikissr @yomishen @mywillt0live , @baldrapunzel @jiminscarmex @sushitushi, @liuaneee , @shynsgore , @mechanicalbeat1 , @marivaudages , @okukura , @azzumei @lucid1tty @iloveescara @usagiarchive @kyouzki @theunhingedmf @kangyeonie @mi2ukiss @bubblebellaz @eternallykira-143 @lumiicch

• featured song - kiss me now by pierce the veil

• notes - WOO NEW PTV SONG IM GOING TO KILL MYSELF

authors' notes - i was reading jane eyre (a classic book) while writing this and you know what? my brain is so damn fried because wdym you can fit so many fucking sentences in a fucking preposition or conjunction (i think u can tell where my motivation sparked in this chapter LMAO inconsistent, i know, but who gaf this is fanfiction).

p.s - next update might take a while because writing is a bitch that loves its victims and i unfortunately am one of those victims

(ask to be added or removed)

[vbecker10]

Hi Neighbor (Part 5)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 6 (in progress)

Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You offer to help Bucky plan his housewarming party then convince your friends they need to come so you don't spend any time alone with him on Saturday.

A/N: This is going to be a multi-part series with a bit of a slow burn between you and your hot new neighbor. I'm not sure how many parts yet but I already have the ending all figured out. I hope you all like it! 💚

"Thanks for letting me use the backyard for the party," Bucky says. He's standing at your front door with Alpine half asleep against his chest, Bucky's metal arm gently holding him in place. In his other hand is a small plastic bag with two full Tupperware containers he promised to return.

"No problem," you tell him with a smile and a light shrug. The duplex apartment you and Bucky live in has a fenced in backyard that's shared between both units. You can access it from your back door while Bucky has access through a gate in the fence. The apartment complex keeps it well maintained and you've always enjoyed spending time back there in the summer with your friends.

If anyone told me a few months ago I'd be helping a super soldier host Earth's Mightiest Heroes in my backyard, I'd say they were crazy, you think. Actually, this is still kind of crazy. "Besides," you smirk, "I don't think all of the Avengers will fit in your apartment. Some of you are pretty big."

He chuckles, "Ah, so you're just worried about us coming through your ceiling."

"Pretty much," you nod and giggle.

"Well I appreciate it anyways," he says when you open your front door. "I'll see you Wednesday, sweetheart," he winks when he steps out onto the stoop.

You roll your eyes dramatically, "Not if you keep that up buttercup." You hear him laughing at your new choice of pet name and empty threat as his key slides into his lock. Once it was decided that Bucky would throw a party like Sam insisted, you offered to meet him in a few days to help him plan it. Wednesday was cutting it closer than you'd like but you promised him it was doable and you both knew you'd never bail on him.

"Goodnight Y/N," Bucky tells you when he opens his door, you can't see his smile but you can hear it in his voice.

"Goodnight Bucky," you reply, closing your door quickly.

Once dinner was finished, Bucky helped you pack up the leftovers, most of which he took home, then he washed, dried and put away your dishes. You told him you could just throw them in the dishwasher and take care if it later but he wouldn't hear it. A part of you wondered if that was his way of getting you to let him stay longer, not that he needed an excuse. You would have gladly let him stay and hang out all night but that couldn't have been what he was doing. Guys from back then were supposed to be gentlemen right? you had tried to reason with yourself. It would have been rude if he didn't at least offer to help me clean up.

You shrug to yourself as you stand alone in your apartment. There's nothing left to do now but freak out over the upcoming party and you know exactly who you need to talk to. Grabbing your phone off the dining table, you head to the couch, your head falling in defeat on the pillow when you see your new lockscreen. The picture shows Apline asleep on your kitchen counter, a few small treats scattered around him. The white cat found the bag you completely forgot to hide and decided to snack until he passed out.

------------------------------------------------

"He's kinda cute when he's not clawing viscously at me isn't he?" Bucky says, looking at the picture on your phone over your shoulder.

You nearly drop the device when you suddenly feel his chest lightly press against your back. "He's absolutely adorable all the time," you force yourself not to look at Bucky when you talk. If you turn your head just a bit, you could easily kiss his cheek without even moving.

"If you say so sweetheart," he says, his lips close enough for you to feel his breath lightly on your neck. "What are you going to do with that?"

You feel him chuckle against your back after a moment of silence then blink as you focus on the fact that he said something after he called you sweetheart. "What?" you ask, taking a few steps a safe distance away from him before turning to face the super soldier.

He repeats his question but your original plan to ask for his phone number so you can send him the picture vanishes when you see his insanely cute smirk.

I have no doubt he'd give me his number if I ask but if I have it, what would I do with it? you think. I could send him memes when he complains about having a day full of boring meetings to see if it'll make him smile. I could call him so he can bring Alpine down and I'll have an excuse to see him during the week. I could text him in the middle of the night when I know he's still awake because I can hear his TV faintly.

"I'm gonna save it as my new lockscreen obviously," you tell him. That's the least complicated option, you think. No point having his number since I'd never be brave enough to reach out anyways.

"Aw, such a good aunt," he says with a laugh, remembering how you announced your title to him earlier.

"Yep," you force a smile to match his but it quickly becomes real when he leans in closer again to see the finished update. "Adorable right?" you hold your phone up for him to see better.

He grins at the image on your screen then looks at you, "Absolutely sweetheart."

------------------------------------------------

Y/N: HELPPPPPP!!!!

Soubi: What's going on?

Rose: Are you okay!?

Shivanie: What happened?

The three messages come back almost instantly in the group chat and you tuck the pillow under your elbows to be more comfortable, this could be a long conversation.

Y/N: Bucky and I were cooking dinner and he told me he's having a housewarming party next weekend. All the Avengers are going to be there and he wants me to come!

Rose: No way?! 🤯

Rose: So that means Steve Rogers is going to be there? 😏

Soubi: That's great! Why the panic??

Shivanie: I'm sorry, we're not skipping over you two making dinner together lol

Soubi: Oh right, what'd you guys make for dinner?

Shivanie: Not what I meant 🙄

Rose: OMG! Wait, was dinner a date!?

Shivanie: Did you cook at his place or did you finally get him into your apartment?

Y/N: It was NOT a date!

You sigh, rubbing your eyes and know you probably should have skipped over the dinner part.

Y/N: Can we focus on the problem??

Soubi: 🤷‍♀️ I have no idea what the problem is but sure

Y/N: I need you guys to come, it's next Saturday

Soubi: To the party?

Rose: I'll be there! I'm not missing a chance to see America's ass up close

You laugh, Rose has never hidden how big of a fangirl crush she has on the famous Captain America. The minute you told your friends Bucky moved in upstairs, she threatened to move into your apartment despite it only being a one bedroom unit. She probably would have followed through on it if Steve spent more time at Bucky's but they seemed to mostly still hang out at Stark Tower.

Shivanie: 🤦‍♀️ Are you sure Bucky didn't invite you so he could spend time with you?

Soubi: Good point, plus I don't like going places I didn't get invited

Soubi: Oh and I'd need to get him a gift cause it's a housewarming right? You bring gifts to those?

Soubi: Does he seem like a guy who likes candles? Or maybe something cute for his cat

Shivanie: The only gift he wants is Y/N 😏

Y/N: NOT HELPING

Rose: Lol idk I think Shivanie figured out the perfect gift

Soubi: We can get you a big bow to wear!

Shivanie: Yes!!

You groan loudly at their collective lack of sympathy and text back.

Y/N: I hate all of you

Soubi: Lies

Y/N: Please tell me you'll come Saturday. It'll be so awkward if I go alone, just me and a bunch of literal super heroes

Rose: Yeah, that sounds awful 🙄

Y/N: It will be, the only person I actually know is Bucky and I can't just follow him around the whole time. Please, you guys need to come

You plead with your friends, hoping they'll save you from the potential disaster that awaits Saturday.

Shivanie: Fine, but if Rose gets Steve's number before you get Bucky's I'm gonna be really disappointed in you

Soubi: You still didn't get his number!!? 😳😳😳

Soubi: How?! I thought you said you were gonna get it like a week ago

Y/N: 🫣

You cringe thinking about how you failed to get Bucky's number again tonight. It was the third time you've had an opportunity to ask and couldn't go through with it.

Rose: Ooh, I'm definitely getting Steve's number at the party 😉

Shivanie: Maybe Steve can get Y/N Bucky's number cause she is never gonna ask 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

Y/N: I'll ask him if you guys come

Shivanie: Really?

Y/N: I swear

You bite your lip when you type out the promise you're not sure you'll be able to keep based on your track record.

Y/N: Just get here at noon, you guys don't need to bring gifts or food or anything

You make one final plea to your friends and cross your fingers as you wait for them to respond.

Shivanie: Of course we're coming 😊

Soubi: See you Saturday

Rose: I'll be there! ❤️

You toss your phone gently onto the coffee table and roll over to stare at the ceiling, briefly wondering if Bucky is in the space directly above you before you realize you now need to let him know you've invited all of your friends without asking him. If I hadn't chickened out of getting his number I could just send him a text, you think as you cover your face with your hands and groan.

(Wednesday)

You close your front door and kick off your heels, both excited and a little nervous about heading up to Bucky's apartment. You spent your last meeting of the day making a list of things you two needed to figure out for the upcoming party and it was a long one. Hopefully planning will go smoothly so you can follow it up with telling him you invited your friends without asking him.

You can hear Bucky's footsteps above you when you walk into your bedroom to get changed. Throwing a t-shirt and jeans on in place of your blouse and dress pants, you instantly feel more comfortable. The outfit is finished off with a pair of sneakers and a quick check in the mirror to make sure you didn't mess your hair up while changing.

After grabbing your phone and the list from your bag, you go back outside and ring Bucky's doorbell. You bite your lip, trying to push down how excited you are to see him when you hear his heavy footsteps coming down the stairs quickly. Without thinking, you fold and unfold the list until he opens the door wearing a dark sweatshirt and that smile you can't get enough of.

"Thanks for coming sweetheart," he takes a step back to let you into the small entry way.

"No problem pookie," you tell him with a grin and he chuckles lightly, shaking his head. You can't see his face when he turns to go up the stairs but you know he's rolling his eyes at your random new pet name.

"What kind of friend would I be if I didn't make sure your first party this century isn't epic?" you ask. You force yourself not to cringe at how much you dislike what calling yourself his friend feels like. Friend is better than neighbor, you think as you follow him up the stairs, but girlfriend would be even better and also completely unrealistic. Yay for being delusional!

He laughs which brings you back to the conversation as you both reach the top of the stairs. "It'll still be a disaster for one reason or another I'm sure," Bucky says. "Trust me, you can't get everyone on the team together without something stupid happening."

You barely notice his left hand buried in his sweatshirt pocket while he bends to pet Alpine. Instead, your attention is on how the cat accepts only two brief strokes along his back before wandering away to find something more interesting.

"It's gonna be great," you insist although you're not sure you believe that.

He walks towards his bedroom, leaving you standing in his living area, watching Alpine attack a stuffed mouse with a bell in it. "I'm gonna grab something from my room. I'll be out in a second, you can grab a drink if you want," he suggests.

"Sounds good, thanks," you make your way to his kitchen, giving Alpine a wave that goes completely unnoticed. "Do you want a drink too?"

"I'm good," Bucky responds and when you hear a chuckle from down the hall you know he's going to say it. "Thanks sweetheart."

You roll your eyes and try to ignore him, opening the fridge to grab a pitcher of filtered water then open his cabinet.

"Oh, cups are clean but they're still in the dishwasher," he calls from his bedroom and you wonder if he heard the soft squeak of the door.

"So you do remember how to use the-" you scream loudly in surprise then your hand clamps over your mouth as you take quick steps back, nearly tripping over Alpine.

"What happened?" he asks, his voice much closer but there's no concern is his tone. If you weren't so freaked out, you might have noticed he was fighting to keep from laughing.

Your eyes are still glued to the open dishwasher, Bucky's freshly cleaned metal arm resting on the top rack. You take a small step closer to get a better look then yelp in surprise when the wrist lifts and the fingers wave at you.

Bucky laughs as your back slams into his chest when you try to back out of the kitchen. "Sorry about that," he says but you know that's not even a little true.

You turn to face him and hit his broad chest in annoyance, "What the hell?"

"I told you that's where I clean it," he reminds you.

"Yeah but-" the words die in your throat when you watch him move around you. For the first time, you notice one sleeve of his sweatshirt dangles loosely at his side. You assumed he was wearing it because it had been a bit chilly today but apparently it was to hide his missing arm. "You did this on purpose," you put your hands on your hips.

Bucky grabs the arm, placing it on the counter then hands you a glass with a smile. "Not sure what you're talking about sweetheart," he insists innocently.

You open your mouth to argue with him but every thought leaves your brain when he pulls the sweater off over his head and his white shirt comes off as well. You stare at his toned back, vaguely hearing Bucky say something as he turns to face you while he pulls his t-shirt back down.

"What?" you ask, forcing yourself to look him in the eyes even though you can feel your cheeks heating from a blush.

He smirks and picks up the arm, holding it close to his shoulder until both exposed ends glow faintly and make mechanical whirling sounds. He reattaches his left arm, the plates recalibrate then he rotates his arm in one sharp, quick motion to set it back in place.

"Wow," you mumble without meaning to and he chuckles at your reaction.

"You were saying," Bucky fills the empty glass you've been holding with water and turns to put the pitcher away.

"I..." you think and look down at the full glass, what the heck was I saying? Ooh right. "You freaking did that on purpose!"

"Why would I do that?" Bucky asks, closing the dishwasher and ignoring the rest of the clean dishes.

"To scare the crap out of me," you say obviously then add, "And it waved at me! What the hell? I didn't know you could do that."

He laughs, walking into the living room to sit on the couch and you follow him, "I would never scare you on purpose, but it was pretty funny."

"It was not," you fold your arms across your body, not wanting to admit it was a really good prank.

He leans towards you as you stand in front of him, "Then why are you smiling sweetheart?"

You blush again when you realize he's right, you can feel the smile on your face despite trying to hide it and decide to change the subject. "Okay seriously though, you can move your arm when it's not attached?"

He shrugs and sits back, making room for you on the couch. "Sometimes I can. I have to be pretty close to it but I'm getting better," he explains vaguely, looking at his vibranium fingers as they wiggle.

Without meaning to, you visualize Bucky's arm crawling across the floor, chasing Alpine like the Thing and shake your head to rid yourself of that image.

"So... you really think we can pull off this party?" he asks after a moment of silence between you both.

"Sure," you answer, pulling the long, detailed list out of your pocket and picking up a pen he had laying on the coffee table. "We've totally got this."

Bucky smiles at your determination and you decide to start off easy, suggesting he doesn't bother buying any decorations and he quickly agrees. Next you move onto food and you're surprised to learn just how much super soldiers and Asgardians can eat.

"Maybe we should just order like... an insane number of pizzas," you say with a giggle.

"That's not a bad idea sweetheart," he nods in agreement. You roll your eyes, continuing to act as if it annoys you when he calls you that although you both know it doesn't.

After a lengthy discussion about pizza toppings and how many pies should be ordered, you move on to music. "We can play music off my phone, connect it to my speakers," you suggest then realize you have no idea what type of music Bucky likes. "What do you listen to? I wanna make sure I put things you like on the playlist."

He shrugs and doesn't answer.

"You really don't listen to music?" you ask in disbelief.

"I like 40s music," Bucky admits after a moment.

"You're so old," you giggle but write 40s on the list next to music and circle it. I'll need to figure out what the heck 40s music even is, you think.

"Ouch, thanks sweetheart," he laughs. "You don't need to put that, whatever you want is fine," he says pointing to the note you made.

"Don't worry honey buns, I'll find some," you smile and when his head turns instantly to look at you, you know he doesn't like that pet name at all.

"Are you going to call me stuff like that at the party?" he asks.

You can't help but smile even wider at how concerned Bucky looks waiting for you to answer him. "You know the rules pumpkin," you try not to giggle, "You call me sweetheart, I call you something cute."

"Pumpkin and honey buns are not cute," he says but you can see he's fighting back a smile.

"What would you rather I call you then, boo bear?" you ask.

He lets out a laugh, "Bucky."

"Ducky?" you ask with a grin and now it's his turn to roll his eyes. "Aww, ducky is actually kinda adorable," you insist then add, "I could call you James?"

"Please don't," he shakes his head but he can't seem to lose his smile.

"You're no fun," you pout, folding your arms over your chest as you sit back on the couch.

He leans close to you and smirks, "I'm a lot of fun sweetheart."

His expression and closeness cause goosebumps to travel over your skin and you giggle nervously. "You worried Sam and Steve might catch on and help me give you fun nicknames?" you shift as far away as you can on the couch which isn't more than another inch or two.

"A little," he admits and you smile, figuring now is as good a time as any.

"I'll make you a deal," you say and he looks at you curiously, waiting for you to continue. "If I can invite my three best friends, I won't call you anything super cutesy in front of your super friends," you grin, hoping he'll buy it.

He thinks for barely a second before agreeing, "Deal sweetheart."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did ❤️❤️ Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

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[aureatescars]

Pulling himself out of bed, even without Leon's comforting warmth tucked close to his chest, is still a chore. It's not even particularly early anymore, and he does feel well rested because of it, but he's reluctant to get up nevertheless. The task ahead of them is no longer one they can just ignore by telling themselves there is still time.

So, Sasha makes his way to the bathroom, steps a little unsteady, but nowhere near enough to have him look for his cane. He brushes a hand affectionately along the line of Leon's now covered shoulders as he passes him on the way there, not really feeling up for conversation just yet. His rather curt responses to his secretary on the phone had paid testament to that, too. But other than her voice, he actually enjoys hearing Leon talk to him first thing in the morning.

After Sasha closes the door of the bathroom he tentatively stretches for a moment to unwind any kinks from his shoulders and back, and to take stock of how he is feeling, how he is really feeling. Once again he finds he's in a lot less pain than he is used to. He's aching in some places, but none of it leads his thoughts back to his injury and the artificial nature of his spine, but rather just back to the night before. At last, his lips curl up into a smile, no matter the uncertainties of the mission on the horizon.

He takes his time cleaning himself up and going through the rest of his morning routine, noting that the hotel provides just about everything to make himself presentable. At least the amount of money he paid for this room seems to be justified. However, he does steal a bit of Leon's spray on deodorant before thinking better of it and only realizes he's dragging his feet through getting ready when he hears a faint knock at the door and then a brief exchange of Leon accepting the things he ordered from room service.

At last, this is Sasha's cue to emerge from the bathroom, a towel slung around his hips, a few drops of water still clinging to his skin. Meeting Leon's eyes he can see the appreciation for his current state of undress, but there is something else there, too. A hint of regret, which Sasha hopes simply mirrors his own realization that there is simply no time left to indulge anymore, rather than anything more serious.

Sasha tests his luck by stepping into Leon's space just long enough to press a kiss to the side of his face, pleased when Leon doesn't immediately pull away but rather leans into his touch. They're still on the same page then. Good. But knowing what's ahead and that reality has caught up to them now, neither of them pushes for anything else. Sasha goes on to collect his clothes left in disarray on the floor, pulling them on. They're rumpled and no matter the effort he puts into tugging the shirt neatly into his pants, there is no denying he definitely has to change before the evening, especially since he'll have to take the motorcycle back to the office.

Speaking of...

"I'll have a few things to take care of before we leave." He says as he makes his way back over to the table where Leon set down their food. His tone of voice, low and near apologetic implies he won't be able to allow Leon to come with him this time. He trusts him, yes. But even to him he can't reveal every detail of his occupation, at least not when it doesn't concern him directly.

He folds his jacket over the back of a chair before sitting down. "It shouldn't take me more than a few hours and I'll be back to pick you up later since we're not expected until the evening." While he talks he reaches first for one and then for the other of the cups to pour himself and Leon some coffee. "If there is any specific piece of gear of yours you'd like access to within the facility you'll have to leave it with me now so it can be planted still. But I had arrangements made with your preferences in mind regardless." Sasha is certain he could hand Leon just about any firearm and he'd handle it with the same precision he recalls from back when they first met, but he figured it couldn't hurt to provide something similar to the gearset he saw Leon sport with such familiarity and ease back then.

Sasha shares that sentiment, his thumb caressing Leon's cheek as he closes his eyes. He can see the longing in bright blue when he blinks them back open, finds the same softness there that settled in his own chest a while ago. But he can see something else there too, the first sparks of an idea of a future, a shared one, one that might promise more of this, more peace...

His thoughts are cut off and Sasha gives a pleased little hum when Leon leans in for a kiss and then quickly surrenders into it when Leon pushes to deepen it. It's all so easy, getting lost in the feeling of Leon's body against his own, letting his mind empty beyond the mere thought of closer, deeper, more.

"Yes, but first..." He breathes heavily against Leon's lips and lets a hand settle on his hips to align their quickly firming lengths. "I want you." He pulls Leon back in, the kiss just as deep as before, still languid at first from lingering fatigue, but it doesn't take long becore their grasps become more firm and they give into their arousal once more. Sasha slides the bathrobe off of Leon's shoulders and lets his hands wander freely, no longer concerned with lingering aches or tension in his muscles and instead entirely preoccupied by Leon's lips against his throat and his hand around his length.

They get carried away again, leaving the sheets rumpled and blankets and pillows in part thrown to the floor in their wake, until they're both overcome by release and left fully entangled and breathless. Sasha uses an undone corner of the sheets to haphazardly wipe them both down before he fishes for the blanket that fell off the bed at some point. He maneuvers it back over their sweat-slicked bodies to ward off the chill of the room and then fits himself close against Leon once again, pressing a kiss into his hair.

They have a few more hours to enjoy this, a little longer to draw strength from the unexpected bond they now share and Sasha selfishly wants to enjoy this little moment in time as long as it lasts.

His hand wanders up and down Leon's back when his lover tucks his head beneath Sasha's chin and the weight of sleep slowly begins to settle over them again. He's already half asleep again, dozing in his bliss when he quietly mumbles something into the soft strands of Leon's hair, barely more than a half-formed thought. "Maybe we can find a bit more time after all this is over." He says in a low voice as he burries closer, already feeling Leon's weight settle heavier against him as well. "This doesn't have to end here."

[ultralightpoe]

What Is This Feeling? -Yelena Belova

Authors Note: Hate this but it's gotta escape my Drafts. I wrote this back in November when the soundtrack was released, and I hated it. Such a great concept I just couldn't make it work -Ultralightpoe

Warnings: Red room, torture, death.

Word Count: 5k words

Description: You and Yelena could never agree on anything while sharing a room in the red rooms.

Main Master List - - Marvel Master List

[Thank You For The Gif @ahumannamedmaddison ]

Enjoy!

x Song Inspo x

Dearest, darlingest Momsie and Popsical

My dear Father

There's been some confusion over rooming here at Shiz

But of course, I'll care for Nessa

But of course, I'll rise above it

For I know that's how you'd want me to respond

Yes

- 

“Dear father,” The words are scribbled in a haste, just as they had always been since Yelena had been brought back, torn between anger and a friend that a girl of her age wasn’t yet meant to feel. A few months ago she would never have had to have written these letters at all, a few months ago she would just now be waking up to the sound of her sister getting ready for school and their mother scrambling to collect their schoolwork. “There has been a bit of a change in my rooms.  I had been hoping they would send Nat in to be rooming with me, but that does not seem to be the case. I will keep my eye out for her though, I swear is papa. I know you would want us to keep an eye on each other and I will not let you down.”

She takes a deep breath in, trying to ignore the tight feeling in her throat as her hand shakes a bit, willing herself to calm down and try not to get too worked up. Once she is sure she would not ruin the page she pressed the pencil down once more. “My first test comes in less than a month. And even with the changes I will make sure to do good. I’m sure that this obstacle they have presented me is just another one of their hidden tests. I will not let her win.”

“Is Yelena writing to her papa again?” A teasing voice sounds out, drawing Yelena's attention to behind her where you currently stood, leaning on the doorframe of her room. Correction, your new shared room.  “Has he answered a single one of your letters so far?” 

“They said you would be coming in tomorrow morning.” She snipped out, eyes narrowing as she stood, her chair screeching against the floor of the room. 

“Had to move it up. Slight issues.” You huff, stepping into the room and pretending to look around, using this move to show the bruised knuckles you were holding. ‘Slight issues’ when spoken about you meant that you had taken the time to attack your former room mate. It was commonly known you enjoyed attacking your sisters. “You never answered my question. How is your papa these days, Lena?”

“Eat shit.” She responds, deciding she won’t feed into your current instigation, choosing to turn back to her desk and take her spot on the page once more. 

As she writes she can hear you toss your bag down before making a scene about moving your desk chair out and taking a spot yourself. Making sure she hears you open your own desk, slapping your paper upon the surface of the wood with a mocking whiny face. 

Don’t let her get to you, Lena. She could practically hear Tasha telling her. Be the bigger person. 

“DEAR PAPA,” You read out loud as your write, making your voice as whiny as possible. Yelena grips her pencil tight to keep calm. “PLEASE COME BACK AND SAVE ME! NO ONE LIKES ME AND I AM TERRIBLE AT ALL MY LESSONS! WAH WAH WAH-”

“Cука!” Yelena screams out, throwing her chair back to use it as a stepping stone in a higher launch at you. You catch her easily before knocking out her feet and trapping her in a head lock. 

The fight is messy, your are both all over the room throwing weak and chaotic punches that never hit their mark properly. By the time the guards manage to separate you the room is a disaster and there are bruises and scratches covering both your faces. 

You both get punished that night. Not for the fight or the room. But for not winning. 

Yelena vows she will never lose to you again. 

- 

There's been some confusion for, you see, my roommate is

Unusually and exceedingly peculiar

And altogether quite impossible to describe

Blonde

- 

It took 2 months to break the great Yelena Belova. Just 2 months before the two of you were standing before your instructor trying to bare out your sides of the story. Well….. She was. You couldn’t seem to give two shits which only seemed to aggravate her even more. 

“She is a reckless waste of space!” Yelena scoffs, eyes swinging to where you stood with your arms placed behind your back waiting for this to be over. “She ruins everything she touches-”

True, you had taken just about everything that crossed the border into your shared room and destroyed it. Soaking books, ripping blankets, breaking glass. This was a great way to build up her anger. 

“-She has no respect for my studies-” Once again true. But Yelena was insane with how much she worked. You would hear her wake up at 3 am just to stretch and workout before your morning lessons at 5. A fucking teachers pet. 

“-She is the worst. She has no cares of her grades or her standing in class. She is impossible. Impossible to describe. Impossible to deal with. IMPOSSIBLE.” Her words brought a smirk to your face as your shoulders lifted a bit more. True, true, true , true TRUE. Yelena was hitting every point. But she was missing the bigger picture. 

“She will never be able to work with another Widow.” And ring a ding ding. The Russian doll finally hit the nail on the head, hard enough that even your instructor's eyes seemed to widen. 

You would never be able to work well with anyone. You were a waste of potential. A future threat. Because as much as Yelena liked to talk about you not caring for your courses she couldn’t claim you weren’t a natural talent. Which you knew was a sore wound for the teacher's pet. 

But you also knew a bigger sore wound of hers. Alexei…. Natasha….. The good American family. 

You had a wound to match, not that anyone had ever bothered to ask or care. Not that anyone could see. You just moved on a little better then Yelena had. You swore to yourself the day you were hauled back that they would never want to send you out on another mission again. 

“What do you have to say to her words?” Your instructor asks, turning to you. “What do you think of her?”

You kept a bored look placed onto your face., turning to look at her with a light shrug. “Blonde.”

She yelled out “CYKA!” Once more, a word you now knew meant bitch in russian, before launching to attack you on the mat. You dodged easily, only to get struck down by your masters cane. 

“You will learn.” He seethes, some spit flying from his lip as he lifts the cane. 

By the time you got back to your room Yelena was in far less of a mood then when you both had been called in, choosing to organize her side of the room while you babied your broken bone on your side. 

“These things would not happen if you cared.” She mumbled out, tearing an eye roll from you. 

“Alexei would have come back for you if he cared.” You sneer out, turning to keep your back to her so that you wouldn’t have to see the look of devastation she was never able to hide. Yelena bared all her emotions on her face, she had yet to learn the trick of hiding them. And you had yet to learn not to react to tears springing from others eyes. 

These were not your sisters. You were taken from your sisters back in France, dragged into a van screaming and crying. You would not treat anyone in here as if they were your family. 

Your main mission was to be killed before you had to kill them. 

Before that the only thing that kept you from giving up was the thought of your family, that they would put up missing posters of you and go out searching. That they would find you one day and you would be able to go back home and this was all a bad dream. 5 years, and you had given that up. Now you kept the one goal. Be killed before you kill. 

If that meant Yelena was pissed about you ripping up her blanket then so be it. She would be real angry tomorrow when she found her pillow torn to shreds, broken wrist or not. 

- 

What is this feeling, so sudden and new

I felt the moment I laid eyes on you?

My pulse is rushing

My head is reeling

Yeah, well, my face is flushing

- 

“Yelena, you are taking well to your lessons.” Mistress Kusnetsov compliments, clapping her hands happily as her gaze follows Yelena across the room. She looked almost gleeful in watching the younger girl perform. Maybe it was because one of her students was learning so well, or maybe it was because she enjoyed watching people live a dream she was never able to after her ankle was snapped. 

You try not to flinch as you watch her limp to where Yelena now stood in her final pose from the dance, running a hand across her hair before clapping once more. Yelena turns to look at you, a gloating sort of look spread across her stupid face that sent you into a rage you never quite understood. You just wanted to do something to wipe that look off of her smug  face, something to ruin her mood like she always managed to ruin yours these days. 

A year, it had been a year since you became Yelena Belova’s roommate. The star pupil. Perfect marks in all her lessons, the grace of a gazelle when she danced. She had passed every single test she was given and her mission marks never went down. Blah blah blah fucking blah. 

She was a thorn in your side that was beginning to fester. 

You enjoyed it when she was out on missions because that meant the room to yourself, but everytime she came back you found yourself suffocating in that damn room. Every move she made had your pulse rushing. Every word sent your head reeling. 

She was a constant pain. 

And she was beginning to aggravate you more and more. 

“Find yourself a partner everyone. Run through your stretches.” Mistress calls out, clapping her hands together before moving to take her natural spot in the front of the room. You waste time watching her walk, nearly jumping forward to help her when she flinches a bit and you can see her leg shake a bit, the urge to help hitting you harder than you thought was normal. 

She turns once making it to her podium, narrowing her eyes when she catches you already looking before a slight gleam fills them when she takes in the room. “Yelena, you. Partners.”

“Shit.” You mumble as Yelena whirls on you. 

“No.” Yelena groans, but it was no use because while you wasted time seeing if the mistress needed help everyone else has paired up. 

“BEGIN!” She calls out and the room immediately fills with chatter as everyone begins working on their stretches. 

“Shall we actually work or are we going to waste time with you pretending you suck at everything?” She asks, circling around you as her accent sinks into your skin. 

“I just wouldn’t want to step into your spotlight.” You huff out, eyes tracking her as she glares, allowing her to circle so that you could try and trip her up. “Oh Yelena aren’t you so perfect. Yelena please sit by me at lunch-”

Your foot snaps out to catch her ankle, kicking her off balance with a swift move that makes her gasp out before stepping to the bar to begin your stretches. 

“You wouldn’t be so bad if you tried, no?” She asks, moving to stand behind you and follow your pattern. “Maybe you be worth something?”

“What is the big deal about being worth something?” You laugh. “So I can end up torturing girls when I grow up, limping on a hobbled foot and watching them like hawks for any mistake?”

“I’m sure Mistress had a wonderful career-”

“You’re a fool. Always have been Yelena.” You snap, turning to face her. “You feed into the propaganda, always so desperate to be needed-”

“You ruin everything, because deep down you know you can’t keep up.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” You snip, shoving her back before turning to the front. “Mistress, might I give my presentation now?”

It was a foolish thing, to let one teacher see you exel. To let her know that you were excellent in what you were being taught. But you would do anything to wipe the smug look off of Yelena’s face. And so you do, once everyone goes along the sides to watch and Mistress plays the music you allow yourself to blend with it the way your mind always loved to do. 

One Prose, a quad pirouette, ballotte on pointe. You manage all the moves as easily as the wind catching by a river. 

And when you hit the final pose you don’t bother to look to where your mistress is clapping ecstatically, you look right to where Yelena stood on the sidelines, the smug grin of hers now set into a scowl. 

And the feeling of pride from that look is far too addicting to never see again. 

- 

What is this feeling, fervid as a flame?

Does it have a name?

Yes

- 

The competition takes form then, catching like a flame on wick. Before you never played along, sure you did things to get yourself in trouble but that never worked anymore, you were just littered with scars that never got you anywhere. 

But pissing Yelena off? That made everything worth it. 

Sharp shooting? Yelena scored well, you scored better when you managed to shoot within the same wound 4 times. 

Sambo? You both made it to the final mat, which is when you brought her to the bat with a swift 3 moves. 

Over and over, every lesson, non stop. Everytime Yelena gave you that smug smile thinking she had won, you found ways to ruin it. 

- 

Loathing

Unadulterated loathing

For your face, your voice, your clothing

Let's just say, I loathe it all

Every little trait, however small

Makes my very flesh begin to crawl

- 

You know Yelena is up to something the second she enters your shared room without muttering any of her Russian curse words out, choosing to head to her side and begin organizing everything. You watch for a moment, trying to figure out her game before giving up and turning back to keep memorizing the words from your novel as she begins to hum out a tune you didn’t recognize. 

She begins getting louder and louder until you can’t even pretend to ignore her, slamming your book shut and turning to her with a sigh. “Why so cheery, Yelena?”

“Oh no reason.” She smiles, shrugging her shoulders, turning to look at you with yet another famed smug expression. “I was just packing for another mission.”

A thrill shoots through you for a moment at the idea of her not being in the room for a minute before you stop short, eyes narrowing as you try to figure out her game. “And why is that cause for gloating?”

Something in her expression snaps as her head tilts, and you realize that she was trying to figure out your game the same way you were trying to figure out hers. “I just figured you would be interested to know, even with all your brilliant marks you still weren’t chosen for the mission.”

“Good for you Yelena.” You had no want or need to ever go on a mission. None. 

“You’re not at all upset?” You loathed the way her head tilted like a cat when she was targeting you, the way your face would flush as you tried to think through arguments. 

“Not at all.”

“You’ve never wanted to go to Peru?” 

“Is that where they are sending you? How exciting.” You smile, moving back to pick up your book, showing that you didn’t care.

“America, Ireland, Romania?”

“This is going to be a long mission, would you mind if I pushed your bed over here to make a larger one?” 

“I’m only getting sent to France.” She bites out, shoulders dropping as she realized she had lost the fight, only hitting the mark at the very end. 

Your shoulders tighten and you sit up straight, by the time you realize you were showing all your emotion it was too late because she had already seen it and that gloating smile was back once more. 

“You wanted to go to France?”

“I’ve already been.”

“You’ve never been on a mission.”

“I’m from there.” You snip, the tears welling into your eyes as you shove past her, slamming the door shut loud enough the decoy frames in the hall rattle as you storm down to the training center. 

- 

With simple, utter loathing

There's a strange exhilaration

In such total detestation

It's so pure, so strong

Though I do admit it came on fast

Still I do believe that it can last

And I will be loathing, loathing you my whole life long

- 

The pain in your shoulder was extreme, every move sent a sharp pain up your arm that was harsh enough it had you seeing blind spots, knees nearly caving in as you struggled to keep upright. Blood was pouring from your nose and you were struggling to keep up with your partner on the mat today. 

“PAY ATTENTION!” Your master shouts, slapping the mat as he watches you both circle each other for the third time. She was going easy on you, she was babying you during a punishment. This was the perfect time to knock you out and take her prize but Malyra had always been a bit too into the sisterhood, always wanting to protect each other.

“Just do it.” You sneer, trying to crack your neck only to get another twinge of pain that had you gasping out. Her face morphs into guilt, but then she jumps out like a viper, wrapping around you and slipping you both enough to send you to the mat. 

You managed to pass out from the pain, the black void greeting you like an old friend. 

And you were at peace….. Until you woke up to the sight of Yelena Belova above you. 

“Hello old friend.” She smiles, tilting her head in that catlike way that had you groaning out. “Now now, is that anyway to greet your friend who moved you from the infirmary to our room?” “Eat shit, Lena.” You snap, closing your eyes. 

“You know, it was odd when I came back.” She begins, making herself comfortable by sitting by your thigh, patting you in what some would think was comforting and you knew to be condescending. “I come home from mission and no one greets me and I think maybe I did something wrong. Then I remember that I am Yelena and I do no wrong.”

“Lena please.”

“Then I find out that you try to escape and they break your shoulder. Cyka, stupid.” She snaps, growling out that last word. “You have gone months without punishment and you choose while I am gone to do so?” 

“Eat shit, Lena.” You sigh again, trying to turn away from her as she begins ranting all about how aggravating you were.  “Enough. ENOUGH. Okay.”

“No not enough. You let Malrya beat you.” She growls. “You beat me last mat and if she beat you then that puts her on top. Stupid!” “So let me get this straight….. You come back to find out I had been punished and lost a fight but you’re not mad cause I put myself in danger but you’re upset that I ruined a standing?”

“Yes.” She nods, yet when you look at her something in it just seems so…. Off. 

“Welcome back, Lena.” You sigh out, struggling to sit up. 

“Cyka.” She mutters, allowing you to pass by her with a brush of your shoulder before you stop and turn back. 

“How did the mission go?” You asked because something felt off, you asked because this wasn’t Yelena staring at you now. 

“It went fine.” And she tried to smile, and for the first time in a long time you felt a little bad for Yelena. 

- 

Dear Galinda, you are just too good

How do you stand it? I don't think I could

She's a terror, she's a tartar

We don't mean to show a bias

But, Galinda, you're a martyr

Well, these things are sent to try us

- 

“You don’t understand Yelena.” Someone whispers. “She never listens to orders.”

“She isn’t loyal to Hydra.”

“She will get you in trouble.” Over and over they all seem to whisper, and you try not to think too hard into it as you scarf food down, casting your eyes across the room anywhere you could. Something was off today and you were trying to figure it out. 

The headcount for lunch was off, at least 24 girls are not here when they should be, and the guard to girl ratio was off as well, 1 guard to every 5 girls when normally those numbers were reversed. Odd. 

Your thought process is cut off by Yelena plopping in the seat right in front of you. 

“Before you start I am only sitting here so I don’t have to talk about my mission, so do me a favor and eat shit. Yeah?” She snaps out, raising a hand to stop you from talking even though you hadn’t even opened your mouth. “Be grateful I am here. People are beginning to talk about you like you are a sore thumb.”

“A sore thumb?”

“You are danger. Risk. No good.”

“Is it me or is the accent getting thicker?” 

“Maybe. Maybe I push it more cause I know it annoys you.” She smiles and you roll your eyes, pretending like she wasn’t sitting right in front of you and choosing to look past to keep watching the guards pass back and forth.  “You need to actually eat, you just shovel it down and you never actually chew-”

“Do you see what I see?” 

“I’m not a lunatic,” She scoffs. “So no. I do n-”

“Look. The way the guards are moving around and the way there are less of them. And look how many grades we are missing.”  

“Grades?” 

“Other years. I need you to keep up.” You sigh, trying not to roll your eyes as she pulls a judgemental face. “Older years. Natashas age. They are all missing today.”

That seems to snap her to attention, the fork in her hand falling with a clatter against her tray. She looks around the room quickly, noting everything you just mentioned before turning back and looking at you intently. “How you see that?”

“Not all of us are pompous.” You mumble back, standing up with your tray when you see you only have about 3 minutes left for lunch.  You had a routine, get out before anyone else so that you could make it to your dorms without too much ridicule these days. 

But today  would not seem to work in your favor. 

A shout at  the end of the hall pulls your attention, and Yelena stops beside you to turn and see right as one of the guards summons you. 

“I think he means me.” Lena sighs out, moving to walk in front of you before the guard snaps out, “Not Belova. Just the other one.”

For the first time since you had moved into the same room Yelena looks downright shocked, and not in the competitive way she normally carried, but this time in a panicked sort of fear.  “Will you be alright?”

It’s spoken in a whisper, and you almost hadn’t heard it, but confusion takes hold because why would Yelena ever be worried about you? 

Choosing not to answer, instead walking past to follow the guard. Though if you knew that you would be getting your first mission you never would have followed. 

- 

Poor Galinda, forced to reside

With someone so disgusticified

We just want to tell you, we're all on your side!

We share your loathing

- 

There was blood on your hands now, you would never be able to go back. 

There was blood on your hands and no matter how hard you scrubbed it wouldn’t wash off. 

There was blood everywhere… everywhere…. Blood…. Blood…. Blood…. 

“She killed Malrya.” Someone whispers, catching your attention to the shadows that took place under the door of your rooms, feet that belonged to people trying to get a glimpse in the room to see the widow that had killed another. 

“Oh Yelena. You need to request a move -” The door swings open, the blonde that you had known for 5 years now coming into view before slamming it quickly.  Her glare is quick, immediately finding you in the room as she crosses it to stand at the edge of your bed. 

“You want to talk about it?”

“Red.” You blurt, keeping your gaze on your hands rather than looking at her. Looking at the wrapping that had been placed from the welts and sores you had formed with the amount of times you washed your hands. You had just wanted to get the blood off your hands, you just wanted to clean the stains off. 

“What’s red?” She asks, and you were going to be sick based on the way her tone softened in a way she had never used with you before. She reaches a hand out, grabbing one of yours to turn up and inspect your palms, thumbing at the wrapping.  

“That’s…. That’s all I saw.” You explain, pulling your hand away. “Lena, i’ve never had that happen before.”

“I don’t understand….”

“It was like a fog. Mentally I was begging her to kill me to just get it done and over with but I couldn’t say the words. It wasn’t me moving my body, I was merely watching from behind a red fog.” You sob, standing up to escape where Yelena was standing. “Everything I worked for. All the punishments and ways out of missions- I never w-wanted…..”

Any attempts of escape were mute because within a moment Yelena had you wrapped in her arms, pulling you in until you were both sitting on the floor, allowing you to cry as she held you close.  

- 

What is this feeling, so sudden and new (unadulterated loathing)

I felt the moment I laid eyes on you? (For her face, her voice, her clothing)

My pulse is rushing (let's just say)

My head is reeling (we loathe it all)

- 

“Tasha is gone.” Yelena whispers the next morning, laying beside you in your bed, staring up at the ceiling with her hand woven in between yours. She had kept a tight grip since you both landed in the bed last night, refusing to let go even when you got silent. Firmer in those moments actually. 

“What do you mean?’

“Dreykov. His daughter was killed and Tasha was a part of it. She got out. She escaped.” 

“What does this mean now?” Your voice doesn’t break over a whisper as you turn your head from the ceiling to look at her, feeling more broken than you ever have before. 

“I think it means you… have been right. And I hate to say it.” And damn it if that didn’t make you laugh even in the worst moment. 

- 

Oh, what is this feeling? (Every little trait, however small)

Does it have a name? (Makes our very flesh begin to crawl)

Yes, ah, ah

- 

You were out of breath as you hit the mat, back hitting with an extra thud as the pain laced through your body, Yelena standing above you with a quizzical look as she tries to process what exactly had gone wrong. 

The mat room was empty at this time of night, which is why Yelena and you always found yourselves here. Where no one could see you both and what you were trying to do. Trying to see what the red fog was, and every time you got your ass kicked without a hint of it coming out you found a festered sort of anger building up. 

Over and over, Yelena beating you to a pulp and you trying to see what you had seen the day of Malrya…. Malrya with her devastated look when you-

“Get up.” Yelena breathes out, stepping back. “We try again.”

“No. No more.” You complain, closing your eyes as your turn over to your side in attempt to lift yourself up, climbing to stand up.  “It’s useless and you know it.”

“No it isn’t. Let’s go again.” 

“What if I lied? Or what if I made something up to make myself feel better?”

“You didn’t.” She seethes. “You didn’t and we both know you didn’t. You used to instigate fights all the time, I always hit first and no matter what you said you did because you wanted to take the blame. You used to rip apart everything I owned but you never once touched my letters to Alexei.”

“Lena-”

“You would never kill Malrya. You gave Malrya extra biscuits at lunch when you thought no one noticed.”

“But on the mission-”

“I believe you.”  She seethes. “I know you. And I believe you.”

“Aren’t you afraid I might do the same thing to you one day?” It’s a question that has been heavy on your mind for a minute, a haunting presence looming behind your neck. 

“You want to know what I am afraid of?” Eyes filled with tears Yelena moves closer to you, hands coming up to your arms to keep you in place. “I’m scared that one day you will be sent out and I will never see you again.”

“But we hate each other.”

“We do.” Her hair bounces a bit as she nods, but then she leans forward and allows her lips to press into yours, the two of you melting into each other. And maybe the way you melted into each other so perfectly was the scariest thing of all. 

-

[Never finished this…… whoops?]

[angelltheninth]

Snowed In Together With Oliver Aiku

Pairing: Oliver Aiku x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, enemies to lovers, snowed in, only one bed, cuddling, teasing, warming up, neck kissing, sexual tension

Prompt: They hate each other. Of course they do. But now they’re snowed in at the same remote cabin. One bed. No signal. Nowhere to run from each other or their feelings. - List

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Saw these cute romance prompts and I wanted to write one for Oliver! Enjoy, comment, reblog, all that good stuff!

"Damn, it's still storming out there, doesn't look like it's stopping any time soon either." You looked out the window of the small, yet cozy cabin you found yourself stuck in. Actually this wouldn't be so bad if you weren't stuck with the most annoying man alive, Oliver Aiku. He wasn't annoying most of the time but today, in this situation? Yes, he was annoying. "Can't you call one of your teammates and at least let them know we're here?"

Oliver was completely calm, as opposed to you, he took many things as they came, he learned to. "I would but the blizzard is getting in the way of my signal. Either way someone will come looking for us by tomorrow. And the snow storm should settle." He smirked as he discarded his fluffy jacket onto the chair.

He wasn't panicking about this at all. How? You were supposed to meet up with everyone else further up the mountain, at the resort. Instead you got caught in an untimely snow storm and were forced to park the car and take shelter together. Good thing the power was still one, and if not there was enough wood to keep you warm for the night.

That wasn't your biggest problem. The biggest problem was that there was only one bed in the cabin. Barely big enough for two, and only one blanket. No sleeping bag or extra clothes.

"Do you really hate being stuck with me that badly? You're not my favorite person either you know, Miss Manager." Oliver poked you in your lower back, causing you to flinch at his touch. "Weren't you supposed to watch for the forecast today?" You blushed from the embarrassment of his words, it was true. 'So this is actually your fault. Unless this was all part of your plan to me alone with you?"

Before you could deny that absurd claim Oliver was already getting into bed. When did he take his shirt off?!

"What? You think I'm gonna stay up all night waiting, hoping for this to pass? I'm on vacation, I'm gonna sleep through all of this. Feel free to join me or don't?" He lifted the covers and waited for a few moments. When you didn't approach, just glared at him he rolled his eyes and turned to his side. "Okay, fine."

You went over your options, of which there weren't many. You could stay up all night and leave as soon as morning breaks, you could take the somewhat comfy armchair close to the fireplace, or you could get into bed with Oliver.

The last one was something you swore you would never do.

You were his team manager, it would look bad, for both of you. But... it was bound to get colder in here. Just for tonight you could take a hit to your pride.

After taking off most of your clothes, leaving only your underwear on, being in the same state of undress as Oliver, you lifted the covers and got under them quickly.

"Changed your mind, Miss Manager?" You could hear the confidence in his voice, dripping like sweet honey. "God, you have some soft boobs."

You were blushing again but for an entirely different reason that wasn't anger. "Is that all you can think about?"

"Well no but kind of hard not to when they're pressed right against my back." That back flexed just for you. You couldn't sleep like this, so you turned your back to him, hogging some of the blanket as you did. "Fine, I'll be the big spoon."

His arm draped itself over your middle and pulled you against his body, your legs tangling together. "Your feet are cold."

"Mhm, I'll get warmed up in no time." You glanced behind briefly, his mismatched green and black eyes slightly hooded, accompanied by a lazy smirk. "If you're so worried you could give me a hand."

"Keep talking and I'll kick you out of this cabin." The perv, the nerve of him to even suggest...!

"I don't think you will." That confidence was back full force as you felt his stubble scratching the back of your neck. "You know Miss Manager... if I'm stuck here for the night I'm glad it was with you. You're good good company like this."

"Good company?" You asked, not quite sure what he meant by that.

"Yup. Nice to cuddle with an all that. I prefer a pretty woman in my bed than one of my teammates. You're much better company." A shiver bolted through your body when Oliver's lips pressed against the back of your neck, then at the side of it, then your shoulder, then the strap of your bra.

You gulped, tensing at the sensation his kisses sent through your body. "You're such a womanizer, Oliver."

"You don't seem to hate it right now. But I won't overstep, just keep you warm, deal?" He asked as he backed away slightly, his warm breath tickling the now wet patches of your skin.

"Y-Yeah." You didn't want to turn around and let him see how much you were blushing. He might be annoying sometimes but in this moment he cared about you, so you let him.

Even though you fell asleep with your back turned to him you still woke up snuggled up against him, your face close to his neck. "Well, morning." Oliver beamed, his face framed with the morning Sun shining through the window, no sign of a snow storm. "Care to give me a hand now?"

It took you a few moments to understand, or rather feel what he meant by that. "Pervert! Get your grabby hands off!" You pushed yourself away from him and fell off the bed, head down, legs dangling over the edge. Slightly spread. "Ow."

"That's quite the open invitation, very forward of you, Miss Manager." Oliver reached out and traced his finger across your thigh.

"Oh, shut up." You gathered yourself, your clothes and what was left of your dignity and stormed outside. "If you're not outside in 5 minutes I'm leaving without you!"

Oliver sighed but kept on smiling, "Gotta make this one quick then."

[juliet-017]

Reprisal - A.M.

Abraxas Malfoy x Fem!Gryffindor!reader

Minors DNI!

Warnings: cheating!! both parties, slight misogyny, semi-public sex, risk of being caught, Abraxas is like super arrogant (Draco on steroids), marking, choking, implied size kink, oral (both ways), unprotected p in v, creampie (+contraceptive charm)

Synopsis: After your boyfriend, Arcturus Black, cheats on you more times than the hairs you have on your head you decide that you're finally done with him. And what better way to signify that than sleeping with his best friend?

a/n: I needed a fic for the loml Abraxas Malfoy so bad guys so here we are. Thank you @viperify and @neptunemma for helping fuel my Abraxas addiction and for the Malfoy family in general. Anyways I hope you guys enjoy bc if you do I'll write for him more in the future !!

wc: 2.4k

Arcturus Black has pissed you off for the last time. Sure, he’s rich, his family well known but you can't bring yourself to put up with his bullshit anymore after seeing him kissing a girl whilst fully sober for the… what time is it?

It doesn't matter, she's just some no-name a year younger than the both of you, probably just some stage where he'd get bored and come running back to you. Or were you the stage? A middle finger to his family? A rebellious phase? You weren't thinking black and white on this fine evening, deciding to find a way to get under his skin, finally get back at him after being so submissive to him for so long.

Abraxas Septimus Malfoy. One of the only boys who could even try to match up with any of the Blacks, and the best option too. After all, you heard him run his mouth about all the Gryffindor pussy he's gotten countless times, and whether it was talk or not, it intrigued you enough to force a pursuit.

It doesn't take long to find him in the library, conversing with Riddle. Hovering around a bookshelf you peer at them, trying to find the right timing. Biting the inside of your cheek you retract, tidying your appearance before rounding the corner with a clearing of your throat.

They both silence themselves quickly, Riddle glaring while Abraxas holds a curious gaze. “Abraxas, may I have a word?” You ask, being sure to hold a certain level of poise.

The two look between each other, some sort of silent communication before Tom seemingly dismisses Abraxas, a smug expression on the latters face as he approaches you. He looms over you, causing you to look up at him. “Need something that your little prince can't provide?” He drawls mockingly.

“Fuck off.” You hiss, crossing your arms to pout.

He shakes his head, leaning up against the bookcase with his hands in his pockets. “Careful, sweetheart, don't you know about playing nice?” He purrs, reaching out with a hand to play with a strand of your hair.

You huff, glancing around before speaking up. “I'm done with Black.” The words come suddenly, even shocking yourself. “I've put up with far too much from him.”

He nods, appraising you. “Soo, what does that have to do with me?”

Running your tongue over your teeth, you plan your next word. Mirroring him slightly you tilt your head to the side. “I want to give him a taste of his own medicine.”

“Oh? And by that you mean?” Abraxas asks, his tone haughty as he raises a brow.

“Don't act like you haven't been begging to get into my knickers for months now.” You snap. “Talking about all the Gryffindor girls you bed and how adventurous they are. I'm not stupid.”

“So you aren't as dumb as I thought.”

You open your mouth, agape and about to retort before he cracks one of his rare grins. “I'm only having some fun.”

“Well, I don't appreciate being the butt of a joke. I mean I knew you were an arrogant twat but Merlin-.” Abraxas moves quickly, putting a hand against your neck and running a thumb over your carotid artery.

“Your heart is racing, love.” He states bluntly before reaching down to take your forearm into his grip. “Let's get somewhere a bit more private, hm?” He starts to guide you before you rip your arm free.

“Rumors will be bad enough if I get seen simply walking grounds with you, I'm not letting you guide me around like some pet.” You spat, taking walking beside him.

“You sure you wouldn't like that? You look rather like a meek little kitten on Black’s arm.” He taunts, his signature smirk taking over his face. “Rather pretty when you don't run your mouth.”

“Bastard.” You retort, slowing to a stop.

“At least I know what I'm doing with my cock.” He muses. “You looked ever so disappointed whenever leaving Arcturus’ dorm, was a bloody shame I couldn't have ravished you after every single time.” Crowding you, Abraxas traps you up against a corridor wall. “Your boyfriend on the other hand only has money and his name, nothing that'll make his future wife too fascinated.”

Before you can respond you lurch, feeling yourself be yanked and pulled into the closet room. You gather your surroundings in a bewildered state before Abraxas locks the door, finding yourself in an office.. Dumbledore's office. “What the hell, Malfoy?” You ask abruptly, stumbling back from him.

“You said yourself that you didn't want to be seen with me so I had to think of something quick.” Abraxas responds, taking a hand and running it through your hair. “Gryffindor idiocy will never fail to amuse me.” He hums before closing the small distance. “Now let's put that mouth to better use, huh?”

His other hand cups your jaw, running a thumb over your lips before prompting with his thumb. You comply, letting him slip his thumb into your mouth as you swirl your tongue around it teasingly, looking up at him doe-eyed.

He hums, allowing you to continue before backing you up against the closest wall, his knee finding a place between your thighs. The friction makes you moan, Abraxas takes the opportunity to withdraw his thumb, a small string of saliva connecting the two.

He starts working on your neck, leaving light pecks and nips as he unclasps your cloak before moving to undo your tie.

You roll your hips, lost in the simple sensation of his knee against your clit, falling prey to his simple actions.

He works on the buttons of your blouse whilst continuing the assault on your neck, his hands moving to work on your skirt next, heavy breaths intertwining.

Abraxas undoes the small clasp with ease before helping you out of it, guiding you to kneel without second thought. You comply, sitting back on your heels whilst still in your Mary Jane's alongside your undergarments. Abraxas undoes his belt, letting it hit the floor followed by his trousers.

You can already see him through his boxers, your eyes only growing a tad bit wider as he frees himself, already semi-hard. His hand appears in your face, “Spit.”, he commands firmly. You do so, watching him stroke his length as he continues to harden.

He taps his tip against your throat, having you open your mouth as he slowly pushes himself down your throat. “C’mon, you can take more than that, just relax.” He purrs as he practically pets you, pulling your hair into a makeshift pony as he pulls you back, allowing you to breathe before pushing his length back down your throat.

Being more prepared this time, you're able to relax your jaw alongside your throat and let him practically bottom out. He drags himself in and out of your mouth, using your hair as a guide whilst making you match him, his other hand bracing himself against the wall as he looks down and watches.

You moan around him, gagging slightly as you try to take him deeper even with your lack of control in the situation.

“Merlin, it's like you were made to suck cock.” He moans, stuttering a bit in his thrusts as you run your tongue over his cock the best you can. Buried deep inside you he stills, twitching and grinding slightly before he explodes.

Abraxas pulls out slightly, enough so you can swallow, looking up at him with watery eyes as you cough and catch your breath.

Next thing you know he takes your hands, helping you up, enjoying the sight as you rush to finish stripping. Abraxas follows suit, laying himself bare before commanding you to jump, supporting you with your legs and arms wrapped around him.

He pushes you against the wall for starts, working on marking up the other side of your neck, humming. “How about Dumble’s desk? Most action old man's probably going to get, huh?”

Barely waiting for your nod, Abraxas carries you over to the desk, his muscles from Quidditch on full display. And you find yourself unable to tear your eyes away, trying to ignore how the sight alone makes you even more wet. He sets you on the edge of the Deputy headmaster's desk, just enough for some extra support.

Digging your nails into his bare shoulder blades, trusting him and Dumbledore’s desk to hold you up whilst your legs are wrapped around his waist as he teases your drenched cunt. Running himself between your folds a few times, he pushes in slowly, taking his time as if he had waited for this for ages.

“I wish I could've taken you in my dorm.” He pants, almost animalistic as he pounds into you. “Imagine all the things I could've done to you there.”

He wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing enough to make you already feel hazy. “Can't believe Arc gave you up,” he growls into your ear. “Best pussy I've had in ages.”

You let out a moan, your back arching in pleasure as your eyes flutter in pleasure. “Really? That's pathetic.” You spat out, clinging onto any fight you have despite being fucked out of your mind.

“Still running that mouth, are you?” Abraxas retorts the rhetorical question, taking his free hand to draw circles on your clit. “I guess I didn't fuck it hard enough.” He growls, thrusting harder as if to emphasize his point.

You make a guttural sound, scratching at his back as if searching for something to anchor yourself on. “There ya go, that's a good slut.” He groans into your ear, lashes fluttering in pleasure.

You rock your hips, trying to match his pace, silent moans leaving you as you feel your climax approaching.

“Fuck, I'm so close-” You whimper, digging your nails in even deeper.

“Come on, just let go.” He mutters, thrusting into you faster.

You wrap your legs around him further, biting into his shoulder to silence your moans as you fall apart, eyes rolling back slightly as you let go. You slump against him after letting out a loud moan, your forehead falling against his shoulder.

You feel him fuck you through your orgasm, overstimulating you slightly before he stills, spilling inside of you. The two of you stay semi-intertwined for a few minutes, catching breaths and cooling down. Part of you wants to chastise him for cumming inside of you, watching him slowly pull out.

Abraxas gathers the pile of clothing the two of you discarded, setting it right next to you before he pulls out his boxers in order to start dressing. In the midst of it, he picks up his wand, murmuring a contraceptive charm.

You stay sat on the desk, a bit surprised at his actions but hiding it as you start to dress yourself, clasping your bra and starting to button up your blouse, Abraxas working on his own dressing.

“Can't wait to tell everyone how I stole Black’s bitch.”

You let out a laugh, pausing in your rush to get dressed to look over at him. “You did not just say that.”

“What? It's true.” He replies, his words laced with arrogance.

“No, it's not you pussywhipped twat. I pursued you after I was done with his shit.”

“You still picked up on the clues.” He continues to taunt.

You raise your hand to slap him but he catches your wrist. “See this is why I tolerate Gryffindors.. so feisty.” He hums, allowing you to free your wrist. “Now you see I might actually be tempted to fuck you again, unlike half your housemates.. they're not so up to par.”

“Oh really?”

“Mhmmm, and trust me, I don't do charity.”

“Oh fuck you.”

“Just did.” He replies cockily.

“Let's put that mouth to better use, yeah?” You retort mocking his earlier words with a roll of your eyes as you grab his half-done tie, pulling him down as far as he allows.

He smirks, ripping your blouse open before kneeling at the edge of the desk. He pushes you to lean back on your elbows, hooking your knees over his shoulder as he leaves small kisses and nips up your inner thigh.

He teases you, stopping right before where you need him most, letting out slow and labored breaths as you whine in desperation.

Starting with one lick between your folds, Abraxas buried his face, lapping at your pussy like a starved man.

You quickly dig a hand into his scalp, pulling at his hair as you moan loudly. You didn't actually expect him to do this, from what you were told no ‘respectable man’ would ever be willing to do this. Your thoughts were cut off when he hummed around your clit.

He went back to licking, rutting his nose against your clit before deciding to alternate between the two, making the experience drag on in the most pleasurable way.

“You taste divine.” Abraxas mutters against your soaked folds. You groan, trying to rut against his nose slightly as you feel heat cook in the bottom of your stomach once more. Reaching a hand under your bra; Abraxas fiddles with a nipple, squeezing your tit before pinching your nipple.

He does the same with the other, taking his free hand now to fiddle with your clit. You pull at his hair once more before your loud moan echoes around the office, causing you to slack on the desk as you catch your breath.

“I think the scores are pretty even now, don't you, darling?” He taunts as he pulls back, catching his breath as well before he gets up to his feet, helping you stand and sluggishly getting dressed.

He helps you off the desk once both of you are dressed, utterly spent as you two make it to the office door. Abraxas peers around the edges before slipping out and pulling you behind him by the hand.

“That was..” You start, a small giggle escaping you.

“Outstanding? Mind-blowing? Earth-shattering?” Abraxas replies, arrogance already back on his tongue.

“Well, I was going to say nice. It was.. good.” You decide with a small nod.

“Well if you ever need a nice time again, you know where to find me.” He replies, bringing your hand to his lips and leaving a light peck on your knuckles before going his own way.

[invis-o-william]

Dannymay 2025 - Day 10: Family

It had been a month since the doctors Fenton were told the truth that their son, Danny, was in fact half ghost. They had spent much needed time dealing with it all; the realization of their own negligence, how they had tried to hunt down their own child, how alone Danny must have felt all these years. 

It had taken time. Time and work to get to where they were now, and they were happy. Maddie and Jack helped Danny keep his identity secret from the wider world, and gave excuses to his teachers for tardiness. They had even listened to their son's expertise on ghosts and had changed their approach to their scientific endeavors. In doing so, they had been able to help lighten the load for Danny, taking on ghost-fighting when he couldn't.

So when Danny told them that he needed to share another secret, Jack and Maddie were patient and calm. For the most part, anyway.

“So, you remember how I told you about Vlad, and that he wanted me to be his son?” 

Jack nodded, while Maddie clenched her jaw at the reminder of their friend's betrayal. Learning of Vlad’s obsessiveness still haunted her.

“Well…when he couldn't convince me to be adopted, he tried some, uh,” he stuttered, trying to find the right words. “other ideas?”

“Like what, Dan-o?” Jack asked. Danny fidgeted for a moment.

“Maybe I should just show you, I'll be right back.” He ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time to his room.

“Do you think Vlad adopted some poor child?” Jack asked his wife. He had long since stopped calling the man by his college nickname, too horrified by Vlad's actions to call him a friend anymore. 

“I don't know. I can't imagine that he wouldn't try and turn them half-ghost as well if he did though,” Maddie whispered back, aware of the footsteps near the top of the stairs.

Danny came down the stairs first and entered the living room, a small figure barely visible was hiding behind him.

“Mom, Dad? This is Ellie.” He stepped to the side, allowing the girl to peek out, but still hold on to his arm.

“Hi,” She said, giving a small wave with her free hand. 

“She's, uh, well she's my clone.”

Jack's mouth dropped open in shock, but he quickly shook it off and thought for a moment, brow furrowing before coming to a realization.

“Ellie, do you still live at Vlad's?” He asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft. Ellie shook her head no. 

“That's kind of the problem right now,” Danny said while scratching his neck nervously. “She kind of needs someplace to stay?”

“Just for a little while! If it's ok, I mean,” Ellie chimed in, just as nervous as her original. 

Jack looked at Maddie, his expression gentle, and was met by a small smile and a nod.

“You're telling me I get to have another little princess around?” Jack's bombastic tone was back, and the man was all smiles, though if one looked closely they could see concern in his eyes. Concern for the girl who had been created by his former friend. For the girl who so much like his own son, had been let down by the adult in her life. 

A small smile appeared on Ellie's face, and Maddie knelt down to her level.

“Of course you can stay for as long as you need, dear.”

Ellie looked from Maddie to Danny, hope gleaming in her eyes. 

“I told you they'd like you!” Danny said with a smile.

From where she stood on the second floor landing, Jazz smiled at the scene below her. It seemed that her family was growing, and Danny was learning to trust their parents more nowadays.

“Good job little brother,” She whispered proudly before joining the rest of the family in welcoming Ellie to Fentonworks.

[kawhh]

To anyone who was affected or reached by Brynn's (sweetestdesire's) actions who might see this and any of her anons - if you're comfortable to read a direct apology from her and think it'll help you heal or at least understand her actions, or if you were an anon wanting to still be in contact with her and also read the apology, she's coming back tomorrow. She's coming back as @angelichughes and I wanted to take the time to let people know but to also explain why I think she should be heard out and why I believe she's learnt the lesson, has grown as a human being and understands how things went wrong and what she can do to make sure she never falls into the hole she did again.

Everyone who was hurt by her actions doesn't ever deserve to go through it again in any shape or form - her actions were wrong, it shouldn't have happened and shouldn't have dragged on long as it did. I've always understood the frustration from anyone who was hurt and especially those who had reached out and talked with her in the past - I still don't agree with how it was handled and I never have and I don't agree with anyone who was using the situation for drama points or dragging it on.

I'm not saying that was everyone, but this is also tumblr and we're all responsible for being better role models with how we handle drama and conflict. There are children here and they deserve the best from people.

But I do understand how some people felt trapped and felt like they had no other option but to deliver the initial message in the way that they did.

I'm not here to apologise for her actions. I'll be perfectly clear in that. This is NOT what this is and I'm saying all of this because I can see a real change in her and want to help people get what they need or want.

I'm not going to sit here and discuss all of the reasons and explanations and any other details - people deserve that to come from her and I also understand how some people will never want to even hear another word from her and you have no responsibility to hear her out or see her name again.

When I've been hurt in the past, it's helped me often to have an explanation for the actions even if I haven't ended up fully agreeing or understanding or wanting to change my opinion or view after reading it.

I've also had situations where I've blocked any mention of their name because I just don't want to see anything and I'm hoping by mentioning the username that I can also help with that part for people.

I'm not in her brain and I've never pretended to be in her brain, but I can see a full, genuine difference and understanding in her behaviour and her mindset after it's happened. I want to be clear about that - if I didn't see a difference and thought she was the same person with the same understanding, I would not be supporting her like this and I would not be typing this.

I do believe that she needed the shock and needed the blow for it to fully sink in for her, to drag her out. A way her brain couldn't skip over as she fell deeper into the hole.

After spending a month talking to her, I fully understand how everything happened for her and how it did happen, but there's no illusions about how she should've dealt with it and reached out. It's not an excuse coming from me or coming from her, but it'll be the honest explanation and reasons why she did it and I hope that can help people in some way.

I fully believe she understands the hurt she caused and how it went wrong at each turn and how she needs to be better for both everyone else and also herself. I believe she's honestly regretful and not just for being caught out - but for her actions as they were.

That can mean nothing to you and that's also fine, but if that does mean something to you, I'm 100% confident in every word I say.

I'm thankful for the anons of hers who have continued to send asks my way to send to her - she hasn't taken any of this lightly and hasn't avoided any of the emotional damage to both herself and everyone she hurt and interacted with and seeing some of you still wanting to understand and wanting her to heal and be a better person has meant a lot to her and myself.

I understand if any of you would be nervous about interacting with her again, but if you would still like to interact with her and give her a chance to show you how she's developed and how she wants to continue to grow with you, I would be grateful.

I also understand that there's anons who have been hurt by her actions and have distrust in all of her previous actions and interactions with you and I repeat that if you're comfortable with it, I think hearing her apology is the least you deserve.

As a final piece, I'm going to make it very clear that I'm not going to tolerate hate sent my way or sent to anyone who does interact with her. Like I said earlier, we all have a responsibility to be better on this platform and any other platform online.

I understand being hurt, but there's a difference between being hurt and asking for an explanation and being hateful. Asking her for answers and expressing hurt is always going to be fine, but we're also all humans who make mistakes and nobody deserves the kind of hateful messages some people on here send with no regard for any human being on the other side of the screen. Some people would do well to ask themselves how they would feel if it was them or someone they cared about getting some of the pure hate some of you send. Not just even this - even simple things like someone not liking a player you like.

I don't tolerate it when people send me hate. I will not tolerate it being sent to her friends.

Being actually hateful towards someone will not help you. It will not help you heal. It will not bring you comfort or satisfaction. It will not make the situation better for anyone. That's my stance on any behaviour like that on this website.

I'm also not going to be doing a personal Q&A. This is my statement and she'll make hers.

I will also understand if I'm blocked for my stance on this by anyone who was hurt - I will be interacting with my friend and I will be doing it publicly. I believe in her and the changes she's made and I'm very proud of all her development. I see someone who understands the situation and genuinely wants to be better for herself and everyone on this app daily.

I'm tagging a few of you - but I also have no expectations and have no right to ask anyone to read or forgive or be friends with her again. Everyone needs to do the right thing for themselves.

@hughesinthebox @zzbubblegumbitchzz @ruinix @rowdyluv

[overnightheartbeats]

Ivette covered her mouth for a moment, in a playful gesture to show her commitment to keeping that secret between them. "Promise, I'll say nothing. That's really nice though, he did look very protective of you." She hadn't properly met the guy or anything, but she could feel his gaze on her at that party. Quietly observing, as if waiting for her to ruin his best friend once more. "Don't say it like that, how could you not deserve a friendship like that?" That, she could relate to, her smile widened a bit. "Fair. Siblings do have lots of pros," thinking back to her own sister. "For what it's worth, your friend does have a similar vibe to my sister. You have a brother now."

Hearing him chuckle made her heart skip a tiny, hopeful beat. How long it had been that she had been the reason behind these fleeting displays of joy. It was addicting, seeing it once had her wanting to do cartwheels and terrible improv performances, just to see him smile once more. "You make these pancakes or just go around the island being the pancake connoisseur? Either way, I'm intrigued, and will happily take all the pictures."

The mention of his mom had her bite her tongue. It took a lot in her to not point out that his mother was heavily disliked for other reasons besides the helicopter boss traits. But, what was the point of beating a dead horse? He probably already knew this, and on the off chance he didn't, it wouldn't change anything. She still had so many pent up feelings about the woman, but she didn't want to hurt him further. "Well, you're not. I was talking to some of the people back at the hacienda, that word wasn't even remotely close to what they thought of you." She wasn't sure what to focus on first - he trusted her, or the nickname he gave her long ago. Both were making her head spin, her dazed smile in plain view - like a little kid receiving a stamp of approval. "If you trust me, then okay. I'll probably still be checking in, just as I ease in. I hope you're not disappointed." For a moment, their gaze lingered. She locked eyes with him, and she could've stayed there for hours, just losing herself in those beautiful blue hues. Ivette was still in her daze as he tugged on her hand and pulled her out the door. "For our inner children, and for me too," she added. Ivette wasn't ready to admit the last time she did something for the sake of doing it, or having fun. It only took the right person to guide her.

"What? No way! That place was the best! You remember? They always had a special, flavor of the month, it was so much fun." She was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, excitement pouring out. "I love that it's still around. I didn't have requests, but hm, okay yes please. If we could get a cone there." One of her favorite places in town, and one they had definitely visited back in the day. Treasure hunt? Ivette almost hesitated, but that glimpse of his blue eyes and beautiful smile made it impossible to deny any request. It didn't matter what he asked, she wanted to say yes to it all - to continue seeing that smile on his lips. "That sounds like it's right up our alley, for our inner children. Did they mention what some of the prizes would be?"

Walking to the nieves' awning come into view had her excitement grow, the same feeling she experienced when she was a kid. He was right - doing this for their inner children. When they reached the counter, she could only stare at all the options. How to choose? "What flavor are you thinking? Maybe I can steal just a tiny bit. I'll let you steal some of mine too, of course."

"We're very close. Almost like a brother. Don't tell him that," he smiled softly. "But, he's been a really good friend to me. Even when I didn't deserve it." Would he ever forget the times Zeke picked him up after his benders. Never. He was still trying to repay all he did back then. "He makes me want to have had a younger brother growing up. Would have been nice to share the burden of family with one."

That made him chuckle. "Hopeful friends being the group chat. Gotta love it. I hope you enjoy pancake pictures. I do those a lot." Javi teased right back just wanting to see that sunshine smile of hers. Maybe if he saw it a couple more times it'd hold him over for the next century. Add this to their one night together.

"I know but I don't want to be one. My mom was and look at how many people hated her. I don't want to be seen as the type of boss that doesn't trust his employees. Trust me when I say this but I trust you Ivy. I can check in but don't use me as a crutch. I believe in you please believe in yourself." Staring at her beautiful brown eyes had him hold his breath. She was breathtaking. "We're about to fix that," he squeezed her hand and smiled. Essentially pulling her out the door. "This is gonna be a treat for our inner children. Come on, adventure is on the horizon."

"Yes! That a first stop request?" His smile was wide and contagious. Making his blue eyes shine brighter than the sun. "We should also get all the colors. Do you know there's a treasure hunt going on today? Want to go see if we can find some in the brick walls?"

[cccakessslicemeee]

Spoilers!!!!!! For fantasy high !!!!!!!

Thinking about Riz and Kristen at the end of junior year past Kipperlily and the bullshit and everyone is chilling the fuck out.

Maybe they have a party. They call it a "party" but it's just a little get together and there's some alcohol sure but nothing too crazy. Riz is in his feelings and a lotta alcohol. He's drinking a lil stupid but hey he's earned it.

Kristen and Riz are on the roof looking at the stars. Kinda dumb considering Kristen's -4 dex but what's life without the risk? Anyway they are up there and it's kinda chilli. A soft breeze and Riz looks at Kristen but he can't ask the question.

She knows what he's looking for.

".....I can try-no I'd like to try. For you I'd try."

"It's been years..."

"yeah... I know it's been awhile. I can still try right? What's the worst that happens? Nothing happens"

"we don't have a body."

"it'll make things harder for sure....no bones? Nothing?"

"nothing....although....maybe we shouldn't? He's doing work up there. Or down there? Somewhere he's working on stuff."

"why not just ask him? You have that wrist thing right?"

"I don't have the coins for it."

"Fabian does. "

"...I don't want to bother him for stuff like that-"

"Hey can I be serious for a second? Like for five minutes I just wanna be real with you. If it wasn't for you I wouldn't have been class president. We wouldn't have had a chance against Kipperlilly and her bullshit if you weren't painting the prettiest of pictures about me and my campaign. By rights you should have been class president you're so much smarter than I'll ever be. You believed in me when the teacher didn't and you helped me study on top of attending so much shit. I feel like you've done way more for me than whatever stupid amount of coins it is. We'll get the coins. Promise. And I *want* to try. Okay? It's the least I can do."

They pass out on the roof.

Kristen does want to try and bring Pok back to life but she doesn't want to get Riz's hopes up so she doesn't tell him about it. She does have the other bad kids with her. Fabian for coins and Fig for moral support.

The first attempt fails. Of course it does. Fig says something about "oh it's like a knock at the door from an uninvited guest right? He don't know us." Which kinda makes sense.

Kristen introduces herself. All the bad kids do, to Pok's grave. Her grandmaster plan is to try and bring him back to life in time for graduation but that only leaves so much time. They spend so much time on this, tweaking little things and studying up on how to do a true resurrection. Good news, Pok hasn't been dead for 200+ plus years and there doesn't seem to be any force controlling or hell bent on keeping his soul so it should work. Cassandra and Ankarna are absolutely willing and able to lend a hand.

Riz is invested in his clue board because he's got another case, something less intense than murder but he's shuffling pictures and yarn around while he tries to figure out who has the better motive to steal the deed to some outdated historical building in Bastion city. The door to the apartment jiggles but Riz doesn't pay it any mind. It's Fig or Kristen or maybe mom came home early. Anyway he's just hyper focused on his board, eager to solve this low stakes case.

Pok comes into the apartment. It's different and yet so familiar. It's nicer now than he remembers it and there are so many more pictures on the walls. He says something to Riz who probably responds with something dismissive but not super rude. He's busy with his work. Pok comes close enough to see how his son goes about putting the pieces together. Focused and entirely calculating.

"I don't suppose you'd like a hand?"

"I think....that I've got....this one almost figured out. Petty theft. Family heirloom."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. The family is insufferable."

"Oh? That's a shame. It's safe to assume then they are a wealthy lot?"

"Loaded....the guy here sells engagement rings-well all sorts of rings but he's known for engagement and wedding rings."

They chat loosely back and forth but it's Pok just asking questions about his son's current project until Riz realizes who he's been talking to. It's a little silly to see how long it takes Riz to pull himself away from his clue board but when he dies there's a moment of solid, unbreakable silence as he realizes his father is right there. Completely corporal. They embrace and they both go to tears. He's fucking here! And he's home!

Kristen did it!

[mikilandzzz]

♥︎‹ 𖤩 ¡𝐏𝐈𝐙𝐙𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄!

TW: none, except a bad joke about Dante's hair and a much pizza hahaha

Dante x fem!reader. Don't worry if you don't like the pronouns used here; you can change them to your preference or however you find most comfortable.

a/n: HELLO EVERYONE!!! sorry if I've been gone for so long. Life hasn't been kind to me these past few months, honestly… It may be late for this but I think it doesn't hurt. Also, because i've just finished watching the Netflix series, i'm obsessed with this guy. I'll watch the 2007 series later. (I swear...)

Dante always had a preference for pizza. If strawberry ice cream was one of his favorite things, pizza was even more so. But he didn't have many things he called "favorites." The only ones he considered "favorites" were pizza, strawberry ice cream, and demon hunting. However, there weren't many things that were compelling enough to pay attention to. He was a fairly simple man. He enjoyed life in a fairly simple way. Well, if we're talking about very simple and unimportant aspects like his lifestyle, he liked to let himself go because he wasn't a man who cared about anything else, no one knows exactly. And that was his charm.

While enjoying he pizza as he took a bite, the opening of the restaurant door caught her attention but it was only for a brief moment to see a girl with (h/c) hair come in. Her appearance was a coat that covered her almost completely, making it seem as if she was wearing nothing but the coat, although she was only wearing shorts and a black blouse but they weren't noticeable because of the coat. When she took a seat next to him, he only looked at her for a few moments before turning his attention back to his food and continuing to enjoy it, at least that was the case until she spoke.

—"Excuse me, ¿Can you give me the same order as the gray-haired man?" —Said the girl in a somewhat comical tone of voice, pointing as she looked at what else was offered on the menu in front of her.

¿A man with gray hair? ¡But that was his natural hair color! ¿How could she not know? Did he really look that old?

He's struggling internally to argue with her or let it go. People always commented on his hair or his age, but he felt the girl had meant it with bad intentions. Before he could even say anything, she spoke again.

—"Nice gray hair." —She said. He looked in her direction with mild amusement, but I could also sense that "honesty" in her voice.

—"I know" —He replied somewhat self-centeredly.— "Thanks, but it's my hair color. It's always been that way" —He added.

Neither of them said a word beyond what they had just said to each other, at least that was at first, but after a few moments (n) he dared to talk more with that man, deciding to engage him in some conversation to get to know him a little better.

—"By the way, ¿what's your name? You don't look like someone from around here" —She asks as takes she order and begins to take a bite of a food.

He just laughs lightly and then watches her eat her pizza for a few moments, then focuses on his own food. He introduces himself as Dante while the girl reveals herself as (n). (N) found his name strange, but he had to admit that it was a pretty cool name. Even he had to admit that her name wasn't a very common one to hear or see a girl with that name.

—"I have to admit you gratify me, what do you think if i treat you to the next slice of pizza this time?" —She proposes with a smile, although it seemed more like a somewhat mocking smile instead.

—"¿How could I refuse a tempting offer that includes pizza?" —He joked, returning the same smile she gave him.

Time passed, and the two chatted; sometimes it was he who talked more, or even she. It didn't really matter who talked more; they were both having a great time, and like any good time, it had to end. She asked for the check to pay but not before seeing him leave a napkin with something written on it next to it.

"I hope to see you again (n). May this place be the place of our next meetings."

That made her face turn blush red, but she didn't mind the idea of ​​seeing him again. She was already excited to see him again.

I hope you liked it!! Remember to like and follow me so I can keep publishing more content. In case you're wondering, i'll keep writing about Mortal Kombat. It's just that I have to resume some abandoned drafts there.

If you have a question for my absence (although i doubt anyone would be interested) you can ask privately and i will gladly answer. :) ps: if something is not written correctly, ¡please let me know!

[4drianaaaa]

“i think i like u”

Hamzahthefantastic x influencerreader! ⚠: fluff, male erection, slightly suggestive, & smoking wrd count: 1.9k

part 3 | navi

-

yourusername

: sandwich, matcha, and @heavn?....

_

hamzahthefantastic: girlll got me nervous and shi 😅 ↳ yourusername: shhh, don't rat yourself out.

user69: YES HEAVN COLLAB!!! ↳ heavn: would have never saw it coming...(we did) ↳ hamzahthefantastic: me neither

mandys_iphone: boyfriend im nervous

clairedrakee: girlll marry meeeeewewww

user223432: again with this mysterious boy ↳ yourusername: can't get enough of him, truly 😔

-

You woke up to your phone's alarm going off right next to your ear. You groaned looking for the phone next to you as you read the time, 10:40 a.m. . A while ago you were sent an email from 'heavn' by Marc Jacobs about a shoot they wanted you for. You also found out Hamzah was also sent an email . With that you were 100% going to do it.

You yawned one last time and shot up from your bed as you looked at the view from your huge balcony. You fixed your bed, used the bathroom, and took a shower. The cold water cooled your nerves down a little. Regardless being a model, you still got very anxious during the shoots. You hoped out the shower scrubbing your worries away and applied a soft makeup look. You added lip liner and blow dried your hair. You gave your face a couple more touches after slipping on to some jeans and a small white tank. You grabbed your bag and made your way out the door. Suddenly you got a notification from the one and only, Hamzah.

Hamzah -> Got you matchaaaa 😆😻

You hated how much he knew you already. You drove yourself to Martin and Hamzah's studio which was a couple minutes away. You nervously grabbed your bag from the passengers as you walked to the entrance of the huge building. As you were walking to the door you felt a pair of hands grab your shoulders as you whipped your head back as quick as lighting. "Fuck! Hamzah!" You yelled slightly pushing him as he giggled. You crossed your arms laughing with him too. "Just thought you may have needed someone to wake you up, After you." He said swinging the door open for you. You walked into the cold hallways of the building making it to the third floor.

"Taa-daa! Welcome to the Slushynoobz office! Aka, my second home!" He grinned as you walked into a huge office with a lot of space and random displays everywhere. He closed the door behind you giving you your matcha he had bought you. "Aww thanks!" You gave him a quick side hug as he waved his hands towards their green screen. You followed behind him as you saw Martin, Chase, and a couple of their other assistants.

"Hello everyone!" You waved as you walked up to everyone individually giving everyone hugs. "Hello, I'm Liam. I'm with Heaven and I'll be shooting you and Hamzah today!" A guy smiled with a heavy camera in his hand. "Perfect! Y/n, nice to meet you!" You grinned sitting down on the couch next to Hamzah.

"Well let's get started! Hamzah and Y/n, here are the patches for you two." He handed a small starface compacts to you and Hamzah, "Feel free to just apply them anywhere on your face and let me know when you two are ready!" You opened the compact mirror and saw the many cool deigns on each sticker.

"Ooo, I want this one. I just don't know where to put it!" he shoved a heart sticker in your face, "Okay, okay! let me see!" you giggled as you took it from his hands. He was face to face with you as you slowly felt him get closer to you. You analyzed his whole face. The closest you've been. You looked at his smooth lips, his neat eyebrows, and his perfect blemish's around his cheeks. You tried your hardest not to look into his deep brown eyes knowing you'd get lost in them. He slowly smiled softly looking all over face too.

Chase, the person who records 90% of the behind the scene's captured the two of you giggling in each others faces. He giggled behind the camera.

"Okay, here..." You smiled applying the sticker on the apple of his cheek. "Okay do me now!" You handed him a star sticker. Your face a couple inches from his. He hummed scanning through your face. He'd do so for hours. He couldn't help getting a little red. He took his hand putting your hair behind your ear giving him more exposure. "Uhh, there!" He hesitated pressing against your forehead. You giggled as his lips curled. You both decided to have matching stickers in the same place right under your eyes.

"Alright I'm done here" you said closing your compact mirror, "Same" Hamzah followed you to the green screen. You hoped in front of the green screen first as you confidently looked straight into the camera. You striked many silly poses just for fun as you were able to catch Hamzah through the corner of your eye. Eyes glued to you. You still had sudden thought crash into your mind, what if he was just giving you the same energy back and doesn't actually like you? Ouch. You were embarrassed to even admit to yourself you do like him.

"So glad we got you, y/n." Liam clicked the camera as you smiled. You blew a kiss to the camera as you giggled.

"perfect! Your so good y/n, I'll have you switch out with Hamzah now!" Liam gave you a quick smirk as he held his thumb up to you as you nodded. You switched out with Hamzah as he was in front of the green screen now. His hands behind his back nervously looking into the camera.

"You guys did great! Thank you so much again!" Liam said reaching for a hug, "Thank you!" You replied patting his back softly, "An honor by the way, I've seen your shoot for Margiela and it was dope" he smiled as he dabbed up Hamzah not taking his eyes off you. Hamzah grew a growing jealousy in his head as he noticed how much he had been complimenting you. Saying how 'good you were'? Liam packed up as he was now out the door. You plopped onto the couch as Hamzah followed you. "An honor?" Hamzah tsk'd as you furrowed your eyebrows at you. "What?" You laughed setting your drink down, "Was I not good enough!? Not a single word came out of his mouth when I was up there! Oh but when he was taking pictures of you he was saying all this stuff! God does that guy not have any respect or equality!?" Hamzah said sassy. "Maybe because he liked y/n more than you Hamzah...?" Chase added. "He was kissing your feet dude! He wanted somethin'!" Hamzah looked towards you as you smirked in response. "Your Jealous! Hamzah's Jelly!" You teased as Chase laughed. "Dude! I'm not!" Hamzah fought in response "It's just...Ugh!" Hamzah laughed to cover his jealousy. "It's okay Hamzah, we already know!" Chase instigated.

You hung out with Chase, Martin, and Hamzah until night at their office talking about future Collab's or brainstorming in general. You laid beside Hamzah leaning towards him as the warm laptop sat on his lap. He scrolled through emails as he noticed you dozing off. He looked towards you as he shook your thigh, "You alright?" He questioned as you nodded back, "Just tired." You sat up straight. Hamzah's face seemed like if a bulb went off in his head as he shut the laptop closed. "you smoke?" He questioned as you nodded. "I got a pre-roll in my car. Wanna?" He said placing the laptop on the small table as you grinned and smiled. "My place." You said lowly as he turned to stone.

You both drove to your place as you said your 'Goodbye's' to everyone in the office. His car parked right next to your extra parking place as you shut the car door. He pulled out the small bag he had the pre-roll in, "Hamzah, I said my place. MY place." You tilted your head towards the elevator. "Uh, you sure?" He stuffed the bag into his pocket as you grabbed his hand dragging him to the elevator. You creaked open your door as all the lights were off except the small lamp in your living room and the huge windows seeping in the busy lights of Toronto into your apartment. You kicked your shoes off as you Hamzah did too. "I have a balcony, we can go there! Or unless you prefer inside?" You said pulling a hoodie over your head as he pointed to the Balcony.

The lighter brightened his face as he sparked up the blunt. He pressed gently on an ash tray you had between the two chairs you had outside your balcony. "So, you live by yourself?" He questioned lowly blowing a cloud of smoke from his mouth. "Mhm, I prefer It like this." You grabbed the blunt from in between his fingers. His mind was quickly sent into a small blur as he laid back. Although the blunt had the strongest strand, he still was bugged by the Liam guy. "Do they always do that?" he hummed looking towards you as you lightly pressed the blunt against your chair passing it to him. "Do what?" you questioned as he huffed, "D'they always bother you like that. Like Liam?" He said lowly as you giggled. "It was way worse In Cali. That's why I moved here, hey at least he was tame. I've heard worse." You looked at Hamzah who's eyes were glued to you. "I got a little carried away, sorry" he licked his lips as you chuckled, "It's okay." You replied. Smoke blew from each others mouths for about 30 more minutes as you both went inside.

"fuck, I should have let you know..." Hamzah sighed as you laughed from how high the two of you were. "You need to stop apologizing so much Hamzah" You giggled as he chuckled smirking, "I just get nervous..." He said sparking the blunt out as you raised your eyebrow. "Nervous?" You questioned as he felt himself get red. "Yeah.." He admitted as he placed the blunt back into the bag. He avoided looking at you for now. You sat next to him on the couch. You looked at his red, glossy eyes as he looked at yours. His eyes traced down to your lips. He could die. Your beauty marks that scattered all over your face. "I'm starting to think it's not the weed that gets you nervous..." You said softly as you placed your legs on top of his lap as his hand was quick to lay on top of them. His face grew red as you felt his heat from his body radiate to his. Licking his lips on last time as he tilted his head softly placing your lips on yours. His hands crawling to your waist as you pushed harder to the kiss. Your hand seeped to the back of his curls, untangling them softly. “Do…I make you nervous?” You hummed in between kisses. His tongue seeped into your mouth as he restrained him self from you. His lips parted suddenly from yours as his eyes were wide open. His lips were a glossy pink from your lip gloss. "Hamzah your lips!" You laughed as he was flustered from what just happened. His palm dragged across his lips as a streak of glittery gloss was streaked onto his hand. "Y/n!" He groaned, "Where's your bathroom?" He questioned as he lifted your legs off him lightly as you pointed across the living room. He slammed the door as he felt the growing pain in between his legs. His jeans were definitely not doing him justice. He washed your lip gloss off his lips as pulled his hoodie down. He didn't know how he'd walk out like this.

-

adri's note: yes you guys are able to throw tomato's at me for lying to yall </3. For the record, I come here for fun and on my free time 😔

[theredcuyo]

So, i remembered things i have yet to address in the au (The horrors in tgcf, Jun wu, the rest of the cultivation world from mdzs, Nie Huaisang and Jin Guangyao, Sqq's corpse, Cang Qiong, Tianlang-Jun-) so i'll start by svsss'

After meeting Wen Ning, Sqq remembered "Ah, right, Binghe has the original goods corpse" and that kind of thing, isn't it lowkey important for the sects? They probably haven't even been able to have their mandatory mourning time without it... Ah, really, should he tell Binghe to just give it back? (Shen Jiu said he didn't care about it anymore, he asked if he didn't want to go back, he said the same again, so it is as it is)

Convincing Binghe was another whole deal "But Shizun!"

"Your Shizun is right here, what do you want that for?"

"But... But this is the face of the person who was so kind to this disciple..."

Sqq had a lot of conflicted feelings about that, but he had also learned a thing or two from his in laws "Ah, then Binghe only cares for the face? This one should have guessed as much and just go away"

"No! I... This lowly one didn't mean it like that..." Sqq hitted him with his fan "What lowly one? If it truly doesn't matter then Binghe can let it go"

"But..."

"No buts"

"Yes Shizun..." Sqq sighed again "And i've told you before, i'm not a teacher anymore, haven't i?"

At that, Binghe brightned up "Yes, husband!"

Binghe allowed Liu Qingge to "steal" the corpse and they hoped that was the end of it. Except that he came back a few days later claiming that Binghe had taken it back. He didn't, Shen Yuan not only trusted his husband not to do something against his wishes, but he had been with him all those past days, trying to cheer him up for it, Liu-shidi he sacrificed his ass for days for this, really!

Binghe, of course, beat him up sent him off back to Cang Qiong without an explanation, and when they were going back, perhaps to ask Wuxian is he knew a way to track down corpses, Sqq colapsed

When he woke up, it was to a crying Binghe with haunted eyes that he knew the reason for (Ptsd) and Wuxian explained that someone tried to pull his soul out, if it weren't for him having experience with keeping souls into bodies (Wen Ning), he might've been gone for good

It didn't take a genius to connect the lost body and someone pulling his soul out, and when Sy ran off to try and find Sj, the suspicions were confirmed, to which all he could think was "Fuck"

Next up came him having to "explain" the situation to everyone else, or rather, just telling them the lie he and the original goods had come up with, which was that a Qi deviation had broken his soul in half, which resulted in him who had been living as Shen Qingqiu since some while ago, and another part, which had held the memories and passed into this realm

It wasn't a perfect explanation, and surely they weren't buying it completely, but as Shen Yuan admitted that's what they both thought, and that he had found this "other half" when he came to Ghost city, and had rationalized that this was what Wwx's soul compass had perceived, it was acepted as the logical thinking

To differentiate between both, they had divided their names, neither to keep Qingqiu, "theirs" had chosen "Yuan" and the other one (For the first time being able to choose his own name) decided on "Yi*"

That being solved, they thought of having to search for this man, and as such, borrowed the soul compass (And Wwx) for a bit, finally ending up just near enough the holy mausoleum to make Binghe think if this was really worth it, because Shen Yuan had explained to him that the Shizun that had poured tea on him would've been "the other one" and the one that had given him medicine, and the one who took without a cure for him, had been himself, which made Binghe have his own complicated feelings about this, and well, Sy could not fault him for it, he didn't like the original goods that much either but he was guiltily glad that this issue was distracting Binghe from asking about the abbys

When they were near enough, however, they actually found him, as he was fighthing off with another demon that they didn't recognize

Tianlang-Jun and Zhuzhi-lang had realized sooner than later than this wasn't the Sqq they were searching for, which disrupted their plan quite a bit, but still it kind of worked, since Binghe and the one they wanted was there already

Bad for them, Bingqiu is already married, and they can't exactly use the original goods as much of a hostage as they want

Good for them, there is someone who's good at coming up with solutions about corpses around here "So... What happened to you? You're not My dad but not not My dad, Oh, Shen-Ge is this what you meant by 'deadbeat dad'? Because this sounds like that"

Shen Yuan, having been told the story from Sqh after asking about the original goods past, asked if he didn't just want to get his body back from the mountain, because that could be arranged since the HuanHua palace wasn't an intrusion anymore (He had not learned of the hows, but it's his Binghe who did it, of course he would, who cares how), because he would not allow him to touch a hair on Binghe's head (His Maiden Luo was falling for him all over again at that)

Tianlang-Jun doesn't have anywhere to vent his anger to, but he learned the truth at least, as such, and knowing he can't win this one, he just goes off to travel the human world again with his nephew, maybe come ever now and then to annoy that son of his

Shen Yi* on the meantime, wants to kill Shen Yuan for what he did to their body with without a cure, Sy on his side, considers to try and search for another method, but at the same time, this is the guy who wouldn't have minded killing his husband, indirectly, but still, a scum villain is still a scum villain!

Then the system gives him the new mission of rediming the scum villain, since the genre has been already changed and so have the circumstances around the original character-

Fuck your ancestors, system!

---

Yi* is a name that according to what i found on Google, means "Unique" which i considered for all the hatred the og Sqq had about being numbered, i also considered Qiang, that means strength, and with two characters the name Xinyu, which means new world, for him trying to start anew, you can take any of this if you will as alternatives! (This is research done on Google, do not take me for a trust worthy source!)

I'll probably do a part 2 at some point, but i should also kind of address the plot for the other two too-