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minnieminshi · 9 months ago

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Pucking Chemistry

Summary: You never should’ve agreed to tutor the captain of the hockey team. Who shows up a full hour after the agreed meeting time? Choi Seungcheol, apparently as you’ve come to learn. And now you’re stuck tutoring him because for some reason, you're his last hope to pass chemistry so he’s eligible to play in an upcoming tournament.

Warnings: cursing because I can’t help myself lol, mentions of your father abandoning the family (it's minor and only mentioned like once)

Word Count: 9.9K (I was possessed lol)

Extra info: high school setting, Cheol uses the term "princess" a lot and I'm a sucker for calling people by their last name, mentions of Monsta X’s I.M (aka Changkyun) and Kard’s Somin (but she gets mentioned like once lol), your little brother’s name never gets mentioned but you do call him Frosty lol, and my knowledge of hockey is limited to watching Dr. Mike on yt talk about hockey injuries so there’s not a whole lot of hockey action in this fic lmao.

Author's Note: this fic made me realize my little brother is turning 13 this year and I can’t handle that because what do you mean he’s a teen now he literally turned one the other day and I think that shows in this fic lol. Also if I only count the days I actually sat down to write this fic it only took me 3 days lol, but I had 3 tests this week and had to be productive so that nerfed me. This is also the first fic I'm posting in this app so bare with me lol and in honor of Scoups and Jeonghan getting cleared to return to activities, I present the beginning of this series

Sporteen Masterlist

Sitting in the school’s library, all your chemistry notes laid out, you began to rethink agreeing to tutor the school’s hockey captain, Choi Seungcheol. With another glance to your phone, you sighed, ten minutes passed what the two of you agreed to meet at. If you didn’t like your chemistry teacher as much as you do, you would have never agreed to do this.

He’s a sweet guy, I’m sure he won’t give you any problems!

But it’s only ten minutes and sometimes things come up. Maybe he’d walk in after a few more minutes and then you two could finally start.

Except those ten minutes slowly morphed into thirty minutes, forty five minutes, and now suddenly it’s an hour and not a single word from Choi Seungcheol about where the hell he’s at.

And while having to wait an hour for someone to show up to something they needed sucked, that’s not what pissed you off. What pissed you off was the fact that after this tutoring session, you had a date with Changkyun, set up by your friend Somin, but thanks to the no show Choi Seungcheol, you’d have to rush home, get your little brother ready for the evening and get ready for your date. And while you could hypothetically get everything done in time, you would prefer it if you didn’t have to rush. Your little brother’s probably gonna complain about his quick dinner of chicken nuggets and macaroni after you promised him yesterday you’d make him what he called an “actual meal.” You reminded him that he was twelve and fully capable of cooking for himself and suddenly the quick meal was the best thing he’s ever eaten.

So he could survive a rushed meal, however getting ready for your date was a different story. Rushing to get ready in the morning for school was one thing. You could halfass an outfit and get your brother out the door in fifteen minutes flat if your mom was already at work, but you needed a little more time to actually look good enough for someone who wasn’t related to you or hasn’t seen you slumped over your desk with textbooks and notes sprawled all over the floor.

Now, because of Choi Seungcheol, you’d have to rush, something you wished wouldn’t happen.

“Sweet guy my ass,” you mutter under your breath as you begin shoving your things into your backpack. Just as you finished shoving the last textbook into your backpack, a deep voice caught you off guard before you rolled your eyes.

“Where’re you going princess, aren’t you gonna tutor me?”

Oh?

Letting out a low chuckle, you turn to face the captain who you wished you could smack that smirk off his face and crossing your arms over your chest, you leaned against the table. “Tutor you? I agreed to tutor you an hour ago, and since that’s passed, I’m heading home to go enjoy my evening.”

As you turned around to grab your backpack and go home, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked up to see him holding onto you, a hesitant look in his eyes. Your brows furrowed as you shook his hand off.

“Look, I’m sorry about being late, but something came up.” He muttered, his hand falling to his side as he shoved his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. You scoffed as you shouldered your bag. “Too busy to send a heads up?”

You look up to see a light blush dust his cheeks as he looks away from you, and if you weren’t so pissed at him, you’d find him kinda cute.

“I’m sorry.”

You sighed as you glance at the clock on the wall, and with a sigh, you turn to the hockey player. “Look, I have plans so I can give you 45 minutes.”

“Forty five minutes? That’s barely any time to learn anything,” he complained with a small pout on his lips as you rolled your eyes. “Take it or leave it Choi, you’re the one who was late.”

He let out a small huff before agreeing to the terms, pulling out a chair as you pulled out your phone, setting an alarm for exactly 45 minutes. Thankfully tutoring him wasn’t terrible, he actually seemed to listen to you and he even took notes while you explained the most recent lesson to him. Maybe if he was kind enough to send a message earlier you might actually feel bad about leaving, but alas that wasn’t the case.

With the default alarm ringing, you began packing up your things once again, this time, really just throwing everything with no regard as to how things landed in your bag. With a little speeding you should be able to make it home in about fifteen minutes which gives you about ten minutes to make your brother’s dinner and have about thirty minutes to get ready for your date. Perfect timing as long as you leave right now.

Just as you begin to walk away, pulling up your little brother’s contact to tell him you’re on your way, Seungcheol calls you out. “Are we still good for next week?” You freeze, slowly turning to look at him as your phone rings. “Next week? Listen Choi, I think it’s best if you find someone else to tutor you.”

Before he can say anything, you cut him off. “Listen, I have things to take care of after school and I can’t wait for over an hour, wondering if you’ll show up. I’ll tell Ms. Park to find someone else and we don’t have to worry about seeing each other again.” With that, you walk out the library, your little brother having finally picked up and making things easier for you as he grabbed all the food you told him to.

Looks like things will be going back to normal after today, no more having to worry about Choi Seungcheol.

Or so you thought.

What you didn’t expect to see when coming to pick up your little brother from his little hockey club practice is Choi Seungcheol out on the ice, with your little brother excitedly talking to him about who knows what.

You internally groan, why, just why did he have to be the one to coach your little brother’s team. And why did you have to say you’d never see him again, it’s like you were asking for the universe to play a cruel prank on you by making sure this would happen to you.

Weeks ago, when your little brother asked you if you could start taking him to a hockey club he joined every Saturday, you didn’t see any issue with it initially. As long as he had the proper gear (that your guys’ mom provided) you thought it was great he found a sport he enjoyed after he burned through basketball, soccer, tennis, and baseball in a matter of a few years. Plus it meant you could have Saturday to yourself for a few hours while everyone else was out of the house. So a win-win in your book.

Or so it was a win before you were left in disbelief, standing off to the side as you watched him talk to Seungcheol. You shook your head, calling out his name as you made your way to the plexiglass wall, wanting to go home. You made the rookie mistake of walking into the rink with no jacket, thinking it would be a quick run of picking him up and going back home. How foolish of you to think things would work out for you.

You let out a small gasp as you made eye contact with your little brother, holding it for a few seconds, only to have him ignore you and continue to talk to his coach, who you knew was aware of your presence. You groan, grounding the heels of your palms into your eyes. Oh how you wished you were an only child in moments like this. Instead you were cursed to be a big sister to a little brother who made your life oh so difficult.

Calling out his name one more time, he finally looked over at you and started to make his way off the rink. You sighed, thankful you weren’t going to have to resort to actually going out on the ice to drag him out.

“Took you long enough, I’m freezing over here,” you said once he was at the wall, carefully stepping onto the non-frozen ground with his skates. “That’s on you for not bringing a jacket into the rink.”

“And that’s on you when all you get for dinner is a slice of bread,” you say when you hand him his sneakers that he had put on the seats before practice had started, and where his backpack was. “Can’t believe you feed me like I’m some paperboy from the 1900s,” he grumbled, but he took the shoes.

Before you could shoot back a reply, Seungcheol skates up to the wall, a smirk on his face. You roll your eyes, wishing he’d go back to doing figure eights or whatever the hell he does on the ice. He calls out your name but you choose to pretend you don’t hear him, instead leaning down to grab your brother’s backpack, a small groan leaving your lips from the sheer weight in his bag. It’s like he carries rocks in this thing, you complain as you shoulder the bag. He shoots you a look as if asking why are you carrying my backpack, but he doesn’t question it, you know the whole gift horse saying.

Just as he finishes tying his shoe, Seungcheol crosses the threshold, leaning against the door as he eyes you. You could feel your eye twitching as you watched him what looked like inspect you, and you fight back a groan when he smirks at you.

“What happened to never seeing each other again prin-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you grit out, hoping your little brother could help you if he truly cared about you. You glance over at him, and just from the look in his eyes, you know he’s not helping you out. It’s like his eyes are shining with awe just from being near Seungcheol and you wonder what your little brother sees in him.

He can’t be that great, you still– well hate’s not the word, that’s too strong, it’s more so you greatly dislike him for what he did a week ago. You still think it was shitty of him to not tell you anything about being late. And of course his cocky personality is really starting to get on your nerves, especially when he calls you princess, as if you two are that close. You’ve only spoken to him a handful of times and yet he calls you a petname as if you’ve known each other for ages. It just makes your skin crawl.

“You know each other?” Your brother asks, poking his head into the conversation as he looks between the two of you. Before you could say anything, Seungcheol butts in, “she tutors me.”

Your jaw drops as he smiles, as if he didn’t just lie to your little brother. It’s like every time he opens his mouth he finds a new way to piss you off. You dryly chuckle as you grab your brother’s shoulder, trying to guide him away so you can leave. “I don’t, now come on, I gotta start prepping dinner.”

“But it’s Saturday, we usually eat out today,” he says and you give him a tightlipped smile. “I just feel like cooking today so why don’t we go home now.”

At that, it seems like your brother finally puts the pieces together, and nods his head. Just as the two of you are about to leave the rink, Seungcheol calls out your name once again. Already knowing what he’s going to ask you shake your head. “I’ll tell Ms. Park on Monday to find someone else to help you.”

And with that, you’re gone and Seungcheol’s on his own again, wondering how the hell he’s supposed to get his chemistry grade up without your help.

“Do you hate Scoups hyung?” Your brother asks once you pull out of the parking lot, your car currently playing I’ll Make a Man Out of You as you let out a confused sound. “Scoups? Is that what you guys call him,” you chuckle, finding the nickname a little silly.

“He said he doesn’t like people calling him his full name,” he explains with a shrug. “Now, do you hate him?”

Wow, he’s really not letting this go.

You sigh as you look over to your right. He’s looking at you expectantly, as if there’s this great and terrible backstory to explain why you wanted to leave the rink as soon as the hockey player approached you. When you tell your brother what happened a few days ago between the two of you, he just rolls his eyes. Yes rolls his eyes, as if being forced to wait an hour for someone to show up isn’t a good enough reason to dislike a person.

“He apologized, what’s the big deal?” He asks, and it’s moments like this when you're reminded your brother is just a boy. “It’s the fact he made me wait an hour with no heads up that I’m still upset about.” Your brother looks over at you, a small smile on his face. “I think he’s a good guy, I’m sure he had a reason why he was late. I don’t think he meant to blow you off like that.”

You blink, letting his words sink in for a moment before shaking your head, focusing back on the road. “Let’s stop talking about Choi and focus back on planning your essay that you have due on Monday.”

He groans, throwing his head back onto the headrest, complaining about why his teacher needed them to write about an important person in their life. “I’m going to write about our dog,” he mutters once the two of you pull up into the parking lot of your apartment. You chuckle, locking the car as he holds open the elevator for you. “We don’t even have a dog.”

“Ms. Kang doesn’t know that.” He shrugs and sometimes you wonder how your brother’s made it this far. “Whatever you say Frosty, but that essay better be done by tomorrow since mom wants us to go out to eat for dinner.”

“Hey Frosty’s a pretty good name for a dog, you think I could use it for a husky?”

“You know what, go crazy dude.”

The last thing you expect when you were walking to the parking lot, heading over to the middle school to go pick up your brother, was to be pinned against a wall in the science building, much less to see Choi Seungcheol, on his knees, begging for you to not talk to Ms. Park.

You could only blink, wondering what the hell has gotten into him. Did he hit his head too hard from a fall on the ice or something? Feeling a little embarrassed, you try getting him back on his feet before anyone walks down the hall. Thankfully he gets up, but unfortunately he keeps you pinned to the wall, towering over you.

“Choi, what the fuck’s gotten into you,” you mutter, trying to push him slightly away from you, putting some breathing space between the two of you.

“Please don’t talk to Ms. Park to find a replacement tutor.” He quietly says and you could feel your jaw drop. No fucking way he’s still on this. You put your hands on his shoulders, effectively getting him to look at you. “You can’t be serious.”

He groans as he closes his eyes, as if he was thinking of what the best thing to say is. One of your eyebrows raise as you wait to see what he says, and what looks like great reluctance from him, he finally confesses his woes.

“There’s a big tournament coming up in a month and if I wanna play, I need to get my chem grade up.”

You stare at him for a few seconds. That’s it? Why would this concern you? Feeling a little nice, you don’t voice out your thoughts and instead ask, “so what does that have to do with me? You can just find another tutor.”

He shakes his head and you tilt your head to the side, now intrigued on what he could possibly say.

“You’re the only person who actually makes chemistry make sense so if I want a chance to pass this class,” he looks up and your breath hitches when you look into his eyes. You never noticed how pretty his eyes are, or how fucking long his eyelashes are. Shaking those thoughts away, you notice what looks like hope in his eyes, and you realize he really thinks you’ll help him. “I need your help.”

You blink, trying to weigh your options. While you still hold a grudge against him for the first tutoring session, this tournament’s important to him. The two of you are seniors, and depending on his plans for after graduation, this may be the last time he gets to play the sport. Then of course, you can’t stop thinking about what your brother said the other day, and unfortunately for you, you trust your brother’s judgment. And if Seungcheol’s ineligible to play, you really don’t want that to affect your brother’s team. He’s grown to love the sport in the weeks he’s played and you really don’t want him to lose his growing passion.

You sigh, closing your eyes as you lean your head back against the wall. “Fine, I won’t talk to her.” He smiles and before he could thank you, you cut him off. “But just know I’m doing this for my brother, he really seems to like you and I don’t want you failing to affect your coaching.”

“I’ll take it as long as you’re agreeing to keep tutoring me,” he smiles and you’re stunned into silence for a few seconds when you see dimples dot his cheeks. You shake out of it and wiggle out of his grasp. “Yeah, just make sure you’re not late without a heads up, Choi.”

The next few weeks are filled with Choi Seungcheol, and you’re not sure how you feel about that statement just yet. In the beginning, you were still a bit reluctant, still fearing he’d be late with no excuse, but at your first tutoring session, he had arrived at the library before you. You were walking to some of the tables at the back of the library when you heard someone call your name, only to see it was Seungcheol, who had reserved a study room for the two of you and already had all of his notes out.

You felt a little bad even though you arrived on time. You had to drop your brother at home so you couldn’t meet right after school, but you did your best to get there as soon as possible.

He was very attentive while you explained everything to him and you wondered how he was failing chemistry in the first place when it seemed like he knew all the topics. It was when the two of you got to the practice problems did you see where the problems were coming from.

Your teacher, Ms. Park, has the tendency to make half of your homework situational problems, where you had to apply the basic knowledge that, on its own, was quite simple, but once put in a non-laboratory setting became a lot more difficult if one didn’t have a complete grasp on the concept. And that’s what you suspect is happening to Seungcheol, and the reason he was failing the class. Good thing you caught on in the beginning of these sessions and you could plan accordingly.

It was another tutoring session when your phone started ringing, you grabbed your phone, confused on who was calling you when you excused yourself, leaving him to work on a problem on his own while you stepped out into the study room next door to take the call.

Your eyes widen when you hear your little brother’s quiet voice on the other end, hoarse as he asks if you could come back home. You tell him you’re on your way before hanging up the call, and rushing into the study room you were just in.

Seungcheol jumped at your sudden intrusion, but before he could complain about you scaring him, you started to throw your things into your bag, grabbing your keys. “I’m sorry but my little brother’s sick so I gotta go take care of him.”

You were halfway through the door when you turned to look at him, “I’ll make it up to when he’s all better!” And just like that, you were out the door, apologizing to the little kid you almost bulldozed down in your rush to your car.

You make it back home in a new record, most definitely going past the speed limits as you skid into the parking spot in the parking garage, haphazardly raising your hand with your keys in hand in the air as you run towards the elevator, not double checking to see if you actually locked your car. If you didn’t live on the fifth floor, you’d actually consider taking the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator, but alas, not even the haze of trying to get to your little brother was enough for you to suddenly have an increase in stamina.

Thankfully the elevator didn’t take long and you were able to make it to your apartment, throwing open the door as you tossed your backpack down the hallway. You rush into the living room to see your little brother laying across the couch, buried under a pile of blankets. He’s really out of it if he didn’t even bother to look up at all the noise you made trying to get in. You sigh before heading to the bathroom, looking for a thermometer and to check if there was anything you could give him over the counter.

Tsking at the 100.4° on the small screen, you wiped a damp towel over his forehead, wondering how he got this bad in the span of the 45 minutes that you were gone. He didn’t look too bad when you had picked him up from school, tired sure, but not knocking on death’s door like he is now. You were about to give him the medicine you found when there was a knock at the door. Not knowing who it could be, you quickly gave your brother the medicine and headed to the door.

You check through the peephole and take a step back, your jaw slacking as you realize who’s on the other side of your door.

Choi Seungcheol.

How the fuck did he figure out where you live? You don’t remember telling him and last time you checked, your address wasn’t public knowledge. Shaking off the initial shock, you open the door, now curious as to why he’s here. Before he could explain his sudden visit, you beat him to the punch. “How the hell do you know where I live?”

He pointed to the floor above you. “Jeonghan told me, plus it was listed on the emergency contacts your brother filled out.” You blinked at him, wondering why your upstairs neighbor would rat you out like that, or how he knew your exact unit number. Whatever, what’s done is done. You point at the convenience store bag in his hand, asking about what he has.

He brings his free hand to scratch the back on his neck, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips, avoiding eye contact. “I- uh got kinda worried and wanted to check up on you guys.” He brings the bag up, “I don’t know what he’s sick with so I just got the generic stuff and I brought snacks.”

You stare at him for a few moments before chuckling, thanking him as you take the bag from him and gesture for him to follow you into the apartment. He hesitates for a second before you nod at him, assuring him that it’s okay. He slips his shoes off and sets them down next to yours, following you into the apartment.

Your little brother looks a little better, actually looking up when the two of you walk into the living room (it’s only a few steps past the little entryway). He looks at the two of you for a second before laying back down. He shoots back up, as if wondering if Seungcheol is actually in your guys’ apartment.

“Real or am I hallucinating?”

You laugh as you adjust the towel over his forehead, “as crazy as it looks, he’s real. Now you should lie back down while I make you a porridge to eat.” He nods his head, laying back down as he adjusts the towel to sit over his eyes. You expected Seungcheol to stay in the living room with your brother, you didn’t expect him to follow you into the kitchen, asking if he could help you. Getting over the initial shock, something that keeps happening whenever you’re around him apparently, and start telling him to grab everything that you need.

It was funny to see him panic everytime you left him on his own to check on your brother, his eyes wide as his head kept snapping from the stove to you. Who knew the tough hockey captain could get so nervous by being left alone in the kitchen?

Thankfully it didn’t take long for the porridge to be made, and once you confirmed that your brother was able to keep his food down, you went back into the kitchen. “How do you like your ramen Choi?”

You turn to see him pouting and for some reason you feel the urge to poke his cheeks. Weird.

“Why do you keep calling me Choi?” He complains, leaning against the counter as he watches you take out another pot and two packages of your favorite ramen brand. You look over your shoulder, closing the cabinet before standing back up. “Would you prefer me calling you by your full name?” You tease, smiling as you see his cheeks turn the softest shade of pink. He stumbles over his words before you hear him mutter a quiet no, and you just laugh.

“I just don’t get why you call me by my last name instead of what everyone else calls me,” he says, handing you an egg when you ask for one. You shrug, “it started when you blew me off the first tutoring session and it kinda stuck.”

“What do I have to do for you to call me something other than my last name,” he begs, and you laugh at how serious this is for him. You didn’t think his name would be this sore spot for him, but it is amusing to see him so stressed over something so small. You look over at him while the water’s boiling, biting your lip as you pretend to think it over. “Get over a 90 on our next chem test and I might consider it.”

His jaw drops as he stands there frozen for a few seconds before groaning. “A 90? Listen, you're a great tutor but our next test is in literally three days and the best I’m getting is probably a mid 70.”

“Then Choi it is,” you reply, grabbing two bowls. At least he believes he can pass this next test, that’s some progress. Before he can start complaining, you both freeze when you hear your little brother yell out, “can you two stop flirting and get me another bowl of porridge,” and before you can yell at him for even saying that he throws in a little “please” at the end. Wow, how polite of him.

“We’re not flirting!” You say, walking into the living room to take his bowl, and as much as you want to tackle him to the ground for even suggesting you’re flirting with the hockey player, you decide to take pity on him, this time. He’s lucky his body failed him today.

Once your sickly brother is content with his second bowl of porridge, you take your and Seuncheol’s bowls to your small dining table. He follows and you go back for utensils, asking what he’d like to drink. Once everything is set on the table, the two of you start eating in a comfortable silence, the show your brother was watching filling the otherwise silent apartment. Your eyes fall to his backpack that was by the door and you swallow what’s in your mouth before motioning to his bag.

“Wanna continue with where we left off? I really think if we can get past this topic you can definitely score somewhere in the 80s.” His eyes follow at what you’re pointing at, and he nods, finishing his bowl before getting up to grab his backpack, and even getting your backpack that you had thrown earlier.

The two of you pick up where you left off, occasionally taking breaks when your little brother claims he needs your assistance with what he calls “surviving” when in all actuality it was just him wanting another refill of his water.

It was nearing 8 o’clock when the two of you were done for the day. As he was gathering his things, your brother got enough strength to get off the couch, heading to his room before waving bye to Seungcheol, telling him he’d definitely be good to go to practice on Saturday. The hockey player laughs as he leans over the table to fist bump him, telling him he better keep his word. You smile at the exchange, happy to see your brother doing better.

“Come on, I’ll see you down,” you say when he’s gotten all his things. Before he can argue with you about it being unnecessary, you wave him off, saying how it’s the least you could do after he came all the way over to check up on the two of you.

The two of you are in the elevator when he finally speaks again.

“Is it usually the two of you this late into the evening?” He asks, his eyes hesitantly flitting from your face to the wall next to your head. You hum, leaning against the railing with your eyes closed, “our mom works late at the hospital and…” You trail off, opening your eyes to see Seungcheol watching you, something in his eyes that makes you look away, the floor suddenly a lot more interesting to look at. Why does he look at you with so much care?

“Our dad left when my brother was a couple of months old so it's just been us three,” you say, not quite believing you're actually telling him this about yourself. Hell, you don’t even know if he has siblings and yet you’re out here telling him your family life. Crazy what some dimples and pretty brown eyes can do to a girl.

“Oh.”

Ah, probably should’ve lied about your absent father. Something about him working late should’ve been excuse enough. Well, too late for that you internally groan at. Before you can apologize for making things awkward, he interrupts you.

“Can we move our tutoring sessions to your place?”

Your jaw drops for a few seconds before you snap out of it, blinking to try to get your brain caught up to speed. “Why?”

He sighs, turning away to face the elevator doors and you’ve never been more thankful for someone to stop looking at you. “I kinda hate the idea of your little brother waiting at home by himself while you’re tutoring me.”

“He’s twelve, but as long as you don’t mind coming over here,” you say, glancing over at him, “then okay, we can move to our apartment.” He smiles and you feel this weird pang in your chest. The last time you felt this excited over a person was when you were getting ready for your date with Changkyun the other day. Does that mean you’re starting to actually enjoy Seungcheol’s company?

Bound to happen considering you spend your Monday and Wednesday afternoons with the guy. It’s just, it feels different than what you felt with Changkyun and part of you just wants to bury that thought away and focus on anything else. Thankfully the elevator ride didn’t last too long and you walked Seungcheol to his car, your chest feeling a little bit tighter as you watched him drive away.

It’s Saturday and you’re back at the rink to pick up your brother from practice. He’d gotten better and while you were hesitant to drop him off at practice, he insisted that he was all good to practice. You let him go, but not without texting Seungcheol before heading over to practice, asking him to keep an eye on your brother. This was the first time you texted him about something other than about your tutoring sessions and while your hands were shaking just thinking about talking to him about something other than chemistry, thankfully he agreed to keep an eye on your brother.

You grab a jacket from the backseat, not wanting to freeze while you wait for your brother. He always manages to be the last one out of the rink, always talking to Seungcheol while everyone else skates towards the door to change out of their skates and into their shoes.

And just like the past couple of weeks, your brother was still out on the ice, except instead of the two standing to the side talking about their practice, the two were skating over across the ice, the small black puck gliding between the two of them as they pass the puck amongst themselves. If you squint, you can see what you assumed is Seungcheol giving your brother tips because soon he nods and adjusts his hold on his stick.

Then, catching the two of you off guard, he steals the puck from the hockey player, successfully scoring a goal on the unguarded net. Your mouth falls open before cheering for your brother. Sure it wasn't a game changing play, but you were still proud of him. Upon hearing your cheering, your brother skates to the wall where you’re standing, the short wall and the plexiglass the only thing separating the two of you.

“Did you see that! I totally got him good!” He excitedly told you and you smiled. “Sure did dude, next time I think you should go for his knees, then you’d have no one stopping you,” you joke, smiling as your little brother laughs, complaining how that’s “not very good sportsmanship” but winks at you when Seungcheol skates over to the two of you, wiping off some of the ice shavings off his pants.

“I can’t believe you’re telling your brother to kill me, princess,” he pouts and you roll your eyes, glad it’s so cold in the rink you can’t tell if your face is burning from the petname or from the freezing temperatures. You roll your eyes, pulling the collar of your jacket higher in an effort to cover your face. “Isn’t that part of the sport Choi, pushing and shoving each other?”

He shrugs, a smile on his face. “Glad to see you know something about the sport, I see Frosty over has been teaching you.” Your brother groans when he hears his coach use the nickname you gave him once he started hockey. It started off as a small joke that somehow morphed to having the whole team only ever calling him Frosty. Hey, at least he’s already got a marketable name, you told him one day when you were driving back home after practice a few weeks ago.

You shrug, tugging your jacket tighter. In all actuality your brother hadn’t explained the sport all that much besides the occasional “you don’t do that” or “that’s a good thing” or other vague explanations when you ask him questions. Instead, after a tutoring session with Seungcheol, and as a way to procrastinate an essay you had to work on, you decided to look into the sport. It wasn’t much, just a quick google search about the rules that had you clicking off the site after a few paragraphs and instead watching a couple of matches on youtube. You had half the mind to ask Seungcheol but decided against it. You were just supposed to be tutoring him in chemistry and you thought learning more about the sport he put years in was a little much for you. (And the thought of him in his full uniform was starting to make your heart ache just a little much.)

“Might as well since I come here once a week,” you say, and Seungcheol smiles, and you wish he didn’t have such a cute smile. His gummy smile is going to be the death of you, you think as you look over to see if your brother’s got his shoes on.

You don’t know when you started to see Seungcheol in a different light. Probably around the time your brother got sick since that was the first time you got to see him not in a school setting. Or to be more exact, the moment he asked if your tutoring sessions could be moved to your apartment so you could watch over your brother. Whenever it was, you wished it didn’t happen.

After the results of the chemistry test the two of you have a week, your tutoring sessions would be over since by then you’d know whether or not he’d be good to compete in the tournament. While a part of you was sad to think about not being with him every Monday and Wednesday with him, you’re at least happy about the fact his grade’s would be doing better. And sure, at first you were helping him out reluctantly, but after spending so much time with him, you realized he was nothing like you originally thought he was like.

Your first meeting really was just a fluke, and he was just a nice guy. You actually had asked him after a few sessions why he was so late to the first tutoring session and you can remember the cute blush that grew on his face as he explained how he was planning the youth hockey team’s practice and lost track of the time. He looked so cute, his cheeks a rosy pink and a small pout on his lips, and that’s when you thought, yeah, he’s not that bad of a guy.

“Okay, I’m good to go,” your brother says, and you blink, snapping out of your thoughts. You nod, extending your hand to help him carry some of his gear. Noticing your empty motions, Seungcheol takes a step towards you but you shake your head. “I’ll see you on Monday Choi.”

“Yeah… see you later, princess.”

You’re really, truly fucked, you come to realize as you stare at your phone. Why, just why did you have to send that text?

Your friend, who was under the impression you still hated Seungcheol for blowing you off the first tutoring session, asked if there was a way you could set her up with him for a date. And you, still not wanting to admit the fact that you’ve definitely started catching feelings for the captain, agreed to set the two up. And trying to convince yourself that the warm feeling you get in your chest from just seeing him smile meant nothing, you sent a text wondering if he was down to meet with your friend over the weekend.

And now you’re waiting for a response, hoping that he won’t agree to the date. Hell, you’re on your knees hoping that even if he does say yes, that it goes horrible so they don’t keep meeting. Terrible, yes, but your heart can’t handle the idea of someone who isn’t you by his side. And yet you still won’t admit that you have a crush on him. (Denial is one hell of a drug.)

When you hear your phone go off from a notification, you push yourself off the floor, where you’ve made home the past couple of minutes. With a shaky hand, you flip your phone over, clicking on the notification.

Choi 🏒: tell her sorry, I’m not interested in dating right now 🫤

Oh.

He’s not interested in dating right now? For some reason that hurts more than if he said he is interested in the date. With a shaky inhale you text him back, letting him know you’ll let her know and you toss your phone away, burying your face against your knees.

Okay so maybe you do have a crush on Seungcheol, big fucking hurray.

You’re walking back to your car when you hear someone calling out your name. You recognize the voice and freeze, wondering what Seungcheol wants with you and wishing he’d just leave you alone. Despite him doing nothing wrong, you really don’t want to see him right now, especially since you were going to use the drive back home to prepare yourself for your tutoring session with him.

He runs up to you, a smile on his face as he blocks you from opening the driver’s side. You cross your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow as you look at him. “What’s up Choi?”

“I came by to tell you that I can’t make it to today’s session.” He explains and you notice how his cheeks are tinted pink. Just how far was he running from? You give him a look as you lean against your car. “So why didn’t you just text me then?”

“I wanted to see you.”

Your eyes widen as you turn to face him fully. You feel your face burn as you try unsuccessfully to say something in return. He smiles and you want nothing more than to wipe his adorable smile off his face. The fact he doesn’t even know the emotional turmoil he’s putting you through is insane and you wish he didn’t have this much power over you. You try coughing, covering your face as you look away from him. “Yeah, whatever, is that all you have to say?”

He nods and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweats and still with that frustratingly cute smile, his stupid dimples on full display, “I’m still good for Wednesday though, I want to celebrate our last session before the test Friday.” You nod, a tight lipped smile on display as you wave him goodbye.

Once in the comfort of your car, you groan, dropping your head on the steering wheel, wishing you weren’t so crushed over this. Things come up all the time, it’s not a big deal he can’t make it today. If anything you can just use this time to get your homework done for the week so you don’t have to worry about it later. Maybe instead of groveling over a guy you could actually be productive for once.

Wednesday rolls around and you don’t think you’ve given yourself a chance to think about Seungcheol. How could you when you’ve been busy doing your homework, planning what you’d cover in today’s session, helping your brother with his homework, doing all the chores around the apartment, and if you weren’t busy with all that you had your headphones on, not even giving yourself the chance to think. Who needs to think when you’ve been so busy?

You pull out of the parking lot of the middle school, your little brother grabbing your phone to change the song that was playing. Sticking to a song that you hoped wouldn’t show up on your spotify wrapped, you keep driving, your thoughts starting to drift off to Seungcheol. Catching yourself, you will yourself to listen to the song your brother chose, and you wonder which was worse for your mental health.

Once in the comfort of your apartment, your little brother heads off to his room claiming how he doesn’t want to watch his older sister flirt with his hockey coach while he does his homework. At first you’d argue that you weren’t but as of late you knew there was no saving yourself and didn’t even try to fight back anymore, only groaning as you started to set the table.

A few minutes later you hear someone at the door and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself to get through your last session and as a way to prepare your heart for the inevitable. Seungcheol smiles as he steps inside, slipping off his shoes as he places them next to yours. You turn around and your eyes widen as your face heats up as you take in his appearance. He was just wearing a pair of sweats and a black shirt and yet you could feel your heartbeat race at the sight. You quickly turn around, pretending to adjust your notebook as you try to calm your beating heart. He’s worn that outfit combo tons of times and yet now your heart decides to give you trouble.

If he notices your internal struggle, he doesn’t say anything. He takes his seat at the table, taking out his things as you finally look at him to start. Hopefully your heart can take the next few hours, if not, thankfully your mom’s a registered nurse.

“Hey princess,” he starts and you, against your better judgment, smile at the petname, “can I ask you something.” You put your pencil down, turning to face him as he put his pencil down, the problem you had given him to work on an afterthought. “Sure, go ahead.”

“If I ace this test will you come watch me play in my tournament?” He asks, his eyes sparkling with hope and you find yourself leaning against your hand to cover your mouth so he can’t see the dopey smile on your face. “When you say ace, how high of a score are we talking here,” you tease. You don’t know where this sudden confidence came from but if it helps you from burning away in your seat, you’ll take it.

He smirks, leaning close to you and your breath hitches, freezing in your seat. “I say at least a mid 90.” You chuckle, leaning in close as you internally scream at yourself to back the fuck away from him. “Sure, you got yourself a deal, but I’m expecting the best from you Choi.” You say, beginning to turn away so he can’t see the dopey smile on your face.

“Of course, can't disappoint my princess, can I?” His pointer finger and thumb gently hold your chin, making you look at him and his stupid smug face that you so desperately want to kiss.

Oh yeah, your heart’s definitely going to explode.

You think you mutter something along the lines of “in your dreams Choi” but at this point you’re not even sure you can still rangle up enough brain cells to formulate a coherent thought. Heat floods your cheeks as he still holds your face and you swear you see his eyes fall to your lips, or at least you think they do. You’re too busy staring at his lips to really be too sure.

Somehow your one brain cell manages to scramble enough thoughts to control your body, except it makes you lean in closer to him, close enough you can feel his breath hover over your lips. Your eyes flutter shut and just when you think everything is going great you hear your little brother yell your name from his room and that’s enough to snap the two of you out of the daze you’re in. You clear your throat, excusing yourself as you push out your chair and head to your brother’s room, wondering what the hell he needs that he just needs you right now.

“What do you want?” You hiss out, leaning against the doorframe of his room. He looks up from his desk, papers scattered across the wooden surface as he turns his swivel chair to face you. He shrugs, “I felt this weird disturbance in the force and called you over here.”

It takes everything in you to not throw him across his room. You sigh, “yeah that disturbance was born twelve years ago.”

“Hey!” He throws a pokemon plushie, piplup if you remember correctly, at you. You duck and the plushie hits your bedroom door behind you. You turn around to pick it up, only to immediately throw it back at him, and successfully manage to hit him in the head with it. He stumbles back in his chair and you laugh at him. He glares at you for a moment before breaking out into laughter as well. “Okay fine good aim, I’ll give it to you,” he acknowledges with a surrender of his hands, the plushie back on his shelves, joining the rest of his collection. “Now go back to tutoring Scoups hyung so you can make dinner.”

You shake your head, a small smile on your face. “You can always make dinner, you should probably start now since I’ll be going off to coll-”

“Don’t say the c word!” He interrupts, a new pokemon plushie in hand. His eyes are wide and your smile softens before it’s turning into a small pout. The past year you’ve been trying to teach your brother how to take care of things around the apartment since soon it’ll just be him waiting for your mom to come home, but each time he always changes the subject, or even resorting to throwing his plushies to stop the conversation. In that moment you don’t see your twelve year old brother who loves to get on your nerves, instead you see your baby brother who never left your side for anything. Your other half despite the six year difference between the two of you.

Before you know it, your throat tightens up as you watch him lower the plushie, turned away so he’s not looking at you. “Um… you should probably go back to Scoups hyung.” His voice is small, like if speaks any louder and he might start crying.

You nod, slowly backing out of his room, “yeah, just let me know if you need anything.” You turn to walk out when you turn back to face him, “I’ll make your favorite for dinner tonight.” His head perks up and you smile at him, to which he returns.

You make it back to the living room to see Seungcheol working on the problems you had left him. You let out a small chuckle, and he looks up, smiling when he notices your back. “Everything okay?”

You nod, “he’s fine, he was just a little bored.” He smiles and the two of you get back to your homework. Soon enough, the two of you finish, even with the practice you gave him to really prepare him for your upcoming test, and you relax in your seat, a smile on your face. Seungcheol faces you, his smile growing as he looks from his papers to you. “Thank you, I don’t think I could’ve done this without you.”

You wave his compliment off, your smile perpetually stuck on your face when you're around him. “Nope, it’s all you Choi, I’m simply here to help you. Now you’ve gotta ace this test so I can go watch you win this tournament.” He smiles and you don’t think you’d ever find dimples this cute on another person in your life.

“Anything for you, princess.”

You’re walking out of your last period class when you hear Seungcheol call your name out. You turn around, already smiling since you know what this is going to be about, and judging by his voice, it’s going to be good news.

He runs up to you, stapled papers in hand and you just know it’s his chemistry test. He makes it infront of you, his hands coming up to hold your shoulders in an effort to stabilize himself, his test pressing against your shoulder. “I got my results back!”

You laugh, your hands coming up to rest over his, smiling and feeling heat begin to creep up your face at the close proximity. “I can tell, but come on I’m dying to know what you got Choi.” A light blush grows on his face as his smile grows, his hands moving away from your shoulders as he straightens up his test since it had gotten crumpled during everything.

Once it was straightened out, he flipped it over, handing the test to you. You take the test and your eyes widen when you see the large 100 written next to his name. You look up to see him smiling and in your excitement, you pull him into a hug. “Oh my god! I knew you could do it, this is amazing!” He tightens his hold on you, picking you off the ground to spin you in a hug. You’re laughing as he gently sets you down, you’re smiling so much your cheeks are starting to hurt but you don’t even care right now. You’re just so happy for Seungcheol, happy that this means he gets to play in his tournament.

He pulls you into another hug, muttering into your hair, “thank you, I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.” You pull him closer, “of course Cheol.”

The day of the tournament arrived and you don’t know why you’re so nervous. Seungcheol and the team have been doing great all day, moving farther and farther up the rackets, and yet you’re still nervous. It probably has to deal with the fact neither of you really discussed what happened last week, the whole really intimate hug in the middle of the hallway and all that. You two actually were texting back and forth the past week, and yet neither of you dared to talk about the hallway incident.

Just like how neither one of you spoke about the almost kiss back in your apartment.

So your nerves are most definitely tied to whatever you got going on with the captain of the hockey, the very same captain who’s leading his team to victory. This is the first time you’re seeing Seungcheol in his full uniform and damn, he looks good in his uniform. Something about how it makes him look larger just makes your heart beat faster every time he skates by where you’re sitting.

The first time he skated by, you watched as he did a double-take before smiling his gummy smile, dimples on full display and waving at you and your brother, who insisted on coming along. (You weren’t going to tell him no, of course you’re going to bring him along.) Occasionally, he’d shoot you a look, smiling at you and you’d wave at him, feeling your face burn up every time.

It’s the final match of the day, and you don’t think you’ve screamed this much in your life. You always make sure to cheer for Seungcheol every time he makes a goal, and halfway through the day, it turns into a competition between you and your brother on who could cheer the loudest for him. And you’re not about to lose against your brother.

Somehow the match had gone into overtime due to the teams being tied and you’re at the edge of your seat, your little brother in the same position. At some point he grabbed your gloved hand, squeezing tight as they entered the sudden death overtime. (Why the hell is it called that?) You squeeze his hand as you watch Seungcheol go head to head against someone on the other team and you hold your breath watching as the two try to steal the puck from the other.

Just when it looks like the other guy’s about to steal the puck, Seungcheol finds an opening, sending the puck into the unguarded goal, making the winning shot.

You and your brother shoot up in your seats, and you pull him into a hug as you both jump in excitement and happiness. Seungcheol gets affectionately tackled by his teammates as they swarm him, and you can hear them chanting their captain’s name as the announcer relays the winning team. You look over once you’ve calmed down a bit and somehow manage to make eye contact with him. You smile and you mouth “I’m so proud of you," hoping he’d be able to understand you.

It seems like he does because soon enough it looks like he mouths something along the lines of, “all for you, princess.”

The tournament’s over now and you’re waiting for your little brother to finish in the restroom before you two head back home. A part of you wishes you’d get to see Seungcheol before leaving but he’s probably busy with after game things and celebrating that you’ll just settle with talking to him some other time.

You’re about to text your brother to ask him where he’s at when you feel someone come up from behind you, spinning you around. You shriek, holding your phone close to your chest, about to curse out whoever it was when you hear the person laughing and you immediately soften, knowing exactly who it is.

He sets you back down, turning you to face him. You smile and before you can even open your mouth to congratulate him on winning his senior tournament, he cups your face, leaning in to kiss you. Your eyes widen at the contact before they flutter shut, your own hands coming up to rest over his. His hands are freezing but you don’t mind, not when your face is burning up enough you’re sure you could warm up his hands in minutes. Your hands drift from his to rest over his shoulders, pulling him closer as you lean slightly back, with him following. He pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath, causing you to chase after his lips, already missing the pillowy feeling of them on your own. He chuckles before dipping down to kiss you again when someone clears their throat.

You groan, already knowing who it is, dreading whatever comment he has to say. You look over your shoulder, only to see your little brother smiling. You definitely expected him to be pulling some disgusted face to make fun of you. Instead he was smiling, smiling so big you would think he just won a year’s supply of his favorite food.

“If you’re done making out with your boyfriend, do you wanna ask him if he wants to join us for dinner?”

Seungcheol's hand slips into your own, squeezing your gloved hand as you look up at him. His smile is so big and his cheeks are a pretty pink blush. “I really like the sound of that, what do you think princess?”

You like that a lot, you think, squeezing his hand as you drag him to follow you and your brother, laughing when you hear his teammates cheering for their captain, for finally getting his girl.

Maybe tutoring the captain wasn’t so bad after all.

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tinylongwing · 4 months ago

Note

Top five small birds go

PICKING ONLY 5 is CRUEL but I don't have time for 10. Species names will have the links to photo sources where applicable.

Long-tailed Manakin. They take like 4-5 years for the males to learn their dances and each year they look a little more like adults to match their experience! They are little and yet have very long tails!! And cute little caps! Very elegant tiny birds.

(Photo by me, bird handled and released on site with permits as part of MoSI, a long-running collaborative research program).

2. Wrentit. Look past the plain gray exterior, let me teach you some BIRD FACTS because these guys are basically aliens. They live in a very small part of the west coast of North America in scrub/chaparral, and we still don't really know how they got there or where their nearest relatives are or what birds they're even related to, though recently they think maybe it's parrotbills, which are otherwise mostly found in SE Asia.

During the breeding season, most female birds develop a brood patch, a section of bare skin on the belly for aiding in heat transfer to the eggs, and most male birds develop a swollen cloaca to facilitate sperm transfer. In some species where males help incubate, they also get brood patches. This is fine. Male Wrentits get brood patches. A little weird but not too crazy. Female Wrentits, however, get a swollen cloaca? Why?? Nothing else in North America does this? I don't.... understand.

Also they're cute, they have a song that's like a bouncy ball going down stairs, and males and females have slightly different songs, so even though we can't determine the sex in the hand like with normal birds, at least if they sing you can tell. Normal birds don't sing when being handled. Wrentits definitely sometimes do. I don't get it. But I love them for it.

(Photo mine, bird banded and released on site with permits as part of MAPS, a long-term research program).

3. Calliope Hummingbird. Itty bitty tiny creature, would absolutely spear you to death with its face if it thought it could pull that off. Hummingbirds in general are territorial and aggressive and these guys are no exception. Also they're beautiful. Look at that starburst of a face!

(I have photos but don't want to go dig them up, I'm lazy)

4. Java Sparrow. Help, I'm hopelessly charmed by how adorable they are. Unfortunately, apparently everyone else is too, and these are now critically endangered in their home range of Java due to habitat loss and poaching for the pet trade. The good?? news is they're also super invasive in places like Hawaii, so they're not about to go globally extinct, so that's cool, I guess.

5. Micronesian Rufous Fantail, formerly just Rufous Fantail, aka chichirika na'abak because look I don't know proper indigenous names for everything but I do for my study birds and I support their use. Chichirika is CHamoru for "showoff" and na'abak is "the one who will lead you astray", after the local stories of kids trying to follow these delightful little low-flitting creatures through the jungles and getting hopelessly lost, leading to village search parties.

Anyway, look at that tail!! Go listen to their cute little squeaks! I'm absolutely in love. I've banded literal hundreds of these and they never ever get old. Every single one of them is a treasure to me.

(Photo by me, bird banded and released on site as part of my very most beloved own tropical forest bird research program in the Northern Mariana Islands).

#ask meme #birblr

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liveontelevision · 3 months ago

Text

Sweet Radio Demon Alastor x Reader

As promised, here she is -

It's inspired by Living Tombstone's song Alastor's Game!

CW: Reader is a cannibal and it's a p big part of the story so mentions and details of cannibalistic intent and murder

♡♡♡

Some people just don't belong in Hell. The structure of divine judgment must be rigged, punishing any poor soul who commits sin without realizing it. Those individuals don't belong.

Then there are those who do. Those who realize there's an afterlife and instantly come to terms with their placement. That's when all the Oh, I'm definitely going to Hell for this jokes start to bite back.

It's always easier for those who choose to be sinners to adapt to Hell's settings. The job market for porn stars and actors is extensive, and protection is almost guaranteed despite the souls owed or deals made.

But, what interested you the most, you depraved sinner you, was the loveliness of Cannibal Town. Not only was it the nicest part of Pentagram City, but you felt right at home considering your appetite when you were living.

It was immense. Some kind of craving that you could never satisfy, no matter how many callers you invited into your home and how many of them never left. You got creative, playing with recipes, spices, and cooking methods, but it was never, never, enough.

Sometimes, you'd wonder how you got to this point. You were a normal enough kid, went to school, had a nuclear home life, and you were comfortable financially, the works.

You remember it feeling like a stomach ache.

A stomach ache that brought you to tears and kept you from school some days. You almost assumed it was something every child went through until you learned what subdued the pain.

Meat.

It was the solution. You ate like a carnivore at first, then the food became increasingly rare as you aged up. Until you stumbled upon some strange forums online (There's something online for everyone, I suppose). You gave in to the cryptid suggestions. You tried rodents at first, only after thorough mental and food preparation, but fuck did it do the job. It made your body shutter and your mind hazy, momentarily melting any thoughts of guilt you might still have.

As time went on, you grew hungrier. Animals weren't cutting it.. but maybe he could.

You found him online, chatted for a while over some messenger, then discovered how much of a dirtbag he truly was. That seemed to disarm you from the whole idea.

Poor thing.

Maybe if he was kind enough, he would have been spared.

You invited him over.

As you watch him approach your door, you tussle your hair, and adjust your clothes that leave little to the imagination. With a continuous, you can do this, you can do this, you're drawn to the knocking of the door.

"Damn, babe, if I knew you actually looked like this, I would've come over sooner." He props his arm on the doorframe as he speaks.

Is.. is that supposed to be a compliment?

Your eye only twitches a bit before you cover your expression with a cute giggle. Holding your hands behind your back, you lean forward.

"Not too bad yourself, big guy. How's a movie sound?"

One thing leads to another, you're seated on your couch, and his hands are immediately on you. For someone who acts so big and tough, his touch is awkward and uncomfortable. Like he doesn't know what he's doing.. probably because he doesn't know what he's doing.

The inexperience helps.

You didn't take into account how large he was. Assuming this would go as planned, you'd be set for weeks, but the actual action of getting him down still worries you.

You're barely an hour into the movie, which you can hardly remember, before his sloppy lips are on yours, which you respond to with a grimace. He doesn't seem to take into account your reactions, grunting against your very unresponsive lips.

Disgusting.

Pig.

He places a large hand on your waist, pulling you roughly to him.

Strong.

Muscular.

You need more. You need to evaluate your prey. You place your hand on his wrist, delicately running your fingers up the entirety of his forearm, tracing and digging into each vein and muscle you can find. That continues up to his chest. Before long, you find yourself straddling him, his wide hips forcing your legs apart a decent amount. Despite his build, his composure clearly shows he's nearly at your mercy. While you're running your hands along his body continuously, occasionally kissing him or letting out fake moans to his ear, you're feeling his ever-growing length pressing into your leg.

You'd be disgusted by the sensation if you weren't planning your next move internally.

You hid weapons everywhere. If you remember correctly, there should be a knife sitting in the crevice between the couch’s armrest and the side table. You just have to reach -

"Take this off." You command with a breathy voice, tugging at his t-shirt that had some unknown stain on it. You almost regret putting so much effort into your appearance.

Oh, well. You're taking notes in the back of your mind for any future endeavors.

You guide his desperate hands to pull the shirt over his head. In one movement, you drop the shirt and take the hidden knife into your hand. You hadn't realized until just now, but -

You're shaking.

You let out a deep breath. With your arms reaching over the arm of the couch, you're essentially caging him in. Nothing looks suspicious yet. Not to him, at least.

You lean in to give him one final kiss. You aren't exactly sure why. It's not doing anything for you. Maybe some sort of sympathy is crossing your mind?

… You'll have to work on that.

You pull away slowly, giving yourself time to examine the state he's in. His eyes are glazed over, his breath shallow.

Now.

Do it now.

You're ready. You've studied anatomy, disarmed yourself to the idea, and prepared for the worst.

You have to do it now.

You straighten your back, the knife now visible to him. He doesn't seem to notice at first until your arms are in the air, hoping to find some momentum in the stab. With your eyes still open, you find the spot where it should end this without too much pain for either party. You dive as fast as you can, but you made a fatal error.

You shut your eyes.

The moment was immediately silenced by the tension of his hand fisting the blade of the knife. He caught it. He stopped it just before it could pierce his chest, only bleeding from his palm. You both sit silently, in disbelief, perhaps.

A silent curse slips from your lips, and that seems to snap him back to this failure of a hook-up.

"You fucking psychopath!" He screeches. He stands, effectively throwing you off his lap as he does so. The action forces a small yelp out of you, and your grip on the knife is immediately taken from you. You stare up at him from the ground.

The tables seem to have turned. He's looking down at you, stumbling and struggling to find his grounding, all the while holding the knife. Despite this, despite his large build and his newfound advantage, he bolts for the door.

Was this better than him attacking you? Will he go to the police? You almost hope he's fragile enough to not admit he was attacked by a frail creature, or that he'll use this as a story to brag to his friends over, I escaped a psycho bitch last night.

You start cursing again. They become more frantic and louder as you follow him out. You watch him stumble off your patio and back to his car. You manage to find reality when a previous thought hits you.

You hid weapons everywhere.

A shotgun sits by your front door. It wasn't the most hidden, but in your defense, it was dark enough outside that it went unnoticed. And you're in a rural enough area that some wouldn't bat an eye at the sight of it.

With shaky hands, you pick it up, already loaded, and aim it at him. He's already in the driver's seat, but you're too exposed to let him just drive off at this point.

You didn't really know much about guns. But in an emergency such as this, it seemed like it would come in handy. So when you took your shot, you never considered the consequences of shooting bullets at a running car, especially with your poor aim.

You come to moments later, fire and pieces of metal surround you. You try to take in your surroundings, but your ears are ringing, and your senses are overwhelmed by the severe burns covering most of your body. You manage to find your home, still mostly intact. The car, on the other hand, is completely decimated.

In the corner of your eye, you think you can spot some resemblance of your date sprawled along the asphalt. With a heavy breath, which you consider might be your last, you let your head drop onto the pavement.

"My my, what a predicament you've got yourself into!"

A voice?

It echoes through your head. You can still only see the crackling of the fire surrounding you, and your ears still ring, but the voice seems clear as day. There's a bit of a static to it, but still it's clearnes startles you. You attempt to respond through the pain.

"W-Who-"

"Save your strength, my dear. I'll be quick since it seems you won't be with us much longer." The voice says. You can hear footsteps, a clear clicking of heels that echo in this ethereal space you find yourself. You struggle to lift your head, only catching a glimpse of the stranger kneeling in front of you.

"I'll clean up this little mess of yours, and we can discuss my repayment once you're in less of a.. scorched state. Deal?"

How could you consider the consequences? Or even comprehend his words while you’re like this? You aren't sure what he means, and you have no time to question. Your consciousness seems to be honing in on the burns.

You let out a horrific scream, clutching your arms, only intensifies the pain. If you could see the stranger, you'd see a disturbingly unphased smile.

"Help me - H-Help me! Please!" You beg and cry out, finally reaching out your hand to him.

"So? Do we have a deal?"

"Deal - Deal! Fuck- I-It hurts..!" You sob, biting your blood-dampened lip to prevent any more screams.

He takes your hand, gripping onto the raw skin of your burns. Your next scream comes out silently. You feel your vision blur before your body finally comes to terms with its seemingly sealed fate.

You shoot up from your bed, your face running with tears. They feel cool, running down your heated cheeks. You quickly wipe your face, leaving a wet smudge of makeup and sweat across your fingers.

Right.. make-up from the date.

You scan your bed, no man in sight. It’s a relief to wake up in your bed alone. Shifting out from under the covers, you look to your hands, waving them in front of your eyes and running your hands across your own skin.

Smooth.

Maybe even softer than you remember previously.

Some sort of calming amenity seems to be sweeping over your body. With glazed eyes, you examine your body that should be severely burned, yet you feel nothing.

Still, in a state of shock, you rise and wrap yourself in your blanket before leaving your bedroom looking a mess. You roam your home, looking around with still-damp eyes. You feel like a tourist. Like none of this is yours.

Not anymore.

You find yourself standing by your front door, opening it without hesitation. It's a clear sunny day. The grass is just as green, if not greener, and there were flowers there that you don't recall ever planting.

Suddenly, your bare feet against the heated pavement sends a slight panic through you, as the more gruesome details of the previous night conjured in your mind.

That's why nothing looks right. You were sure your porch was blackened by the fire. The grass was a flame, and there was a car - and that man and the voice -

You approach where his car was parked, only to find a torn-up strip of rubber, assumingly from its tire.

"What the.." unable to even complete a thought, a familiar voice only brings up more questions.

"Ah, my apologies! I assure you it is quite out of character for me to miss a spot." You see a disturbingly tall figure come from behind, swooping down to pick up the rubber scrap. He examines it within his red talons, turning it back and forth. You stand dumbfounded, but he goes on anyway.

"So, what exactly caused your date to ..implode? Was he not to your liking? Too handsy? Too-"

...

You're too tired for this.

You rub the sleep from your eyes, turning on your heels and letting the blanket drag across the rugged pavement behind you as you head back inside. You almost expect some sort of resistance from him, a qwip on how rude it is to walk off in the middle of a conversation, but there is none. Maybe you just imagined that little interaction. Maybe there wasn't really anyone there, and you're still tired or still sleeping.

You open the door, and that same bright smile greets you from inside your own home.

That seems to wake you up.

Your wide eyes scan his face, then peek inside your home behind him. You turn back around to see where he previously was, and obviously there's no sign of his travels. You slowly turn back.

"May I speak now?" His voice is laced with a radio filter, and it hits your ears in the strangest way. The reality of the situation turns your exhaustion into apprehension, yet you nod your head anyway.

"I may have caught you in the midst of your disarray, but I must admit, I'm curious about what led to it." He steps aside and gestures for you to come inside. To your own house.

"H-He got the upper hand is all." You decide not to comment, moving inside sluggishly. As far as you know, this strange being has no idea of the sins you've committed. You quickly fib.

"He attacked me, actually."

"Oh, how devastating!" He lets out a saddened sigh, a hand over his heart with fake sympathy. "Now, was that before or after you attempted to drive a knife through his chest?"

With a defeated groan, you flop onto the couch.

"What are you? A sleep paralysis demon? A.. nightmare? Am I still asleep?" You grumble, running the possibilities out loud and not expecting a true answer. You actually hoped that it would all go away. That this voice in your head, this hallucination, is just that.

In your head.

"Ooh, I like the sound of that.. A nightmare~ has a nice ring to it wouldn't you say?" He stands in front of you, his hands folded formally behind his back.

"Now. Enough with the compliments. What truly happened, my dear?” When his voice suddenly turns sympathetic, you find yourself actually in need of someone to vent to.

“Well, since you're clearly just a nightmare - or.. something - ” You sit up, take in a deep breath, and with its release, you reveal yourself.

All of you.

Every single animal you've killed to curb your pain, what seems to work and what doesn't, and the previous nights failure. You talk about the number of friends and family you've scared off throughout the years, everything.

“I.. was gonna eat.. him…” You squeak out your final sentence. You've never really said it out loud before. And never in front of someone else. It made your own blood run cold. Not the thought of the act itself, but just sharing it aloud. your eyes stay fixed on your fidgeting hands in your lap when a loud cackle interrupts your anxiousness.

“My word, aren’t you just the cutest basket case? You're lucky to be dealing with a demon of similar tastes.” He hisses his final words, all with a sly smile. He sounds prideful in his admission. His words seem like they're meant to disarm you, and even though he essentially admitted to being a cannibalistic demon, it works.

“Well.. since we have sooo much in common-” Your voice drags, the notion of being similar to this demon feeling strange to mention out loud, “-would you.. help me? With all this..?”

Expecting another laugh, maybe some more teasing, you're met with a confusing expression. His smile is still there, unmoving, but you catch the smallest twinkle in his eye. He stands and faces away. The hope of finding an outlet for your cannibalistic intent starts to dwindle.

Your misplaced disappointment is overtaken by the flickering of lights and the soft tunes of a radio nearby, one that you recognized but were sure had been broken for decades. He turns his head unnaturally, looking over his shoulder to meet you with blackened eyes.

“I would be absolutely delighted.”

“Lucky for you, some of your late-night delivery seemed to withstand the flames!”

You follow that transatlantic accent to your kitchen, unamused by his continuous puns and casual speech. This big scary demon friend of yours presents a commically large plate, with a very familiar carcass sitting atop.

He did nothing to make it look any less disturbing than it truly was. the skin was nearly burned off, the smell was just awful, and the shirt was somehow still recognizable through it all.

You cover your mouth in response. The fact that it doesn't smell much different than some of the other carnivorous meals you’ve prepared nauseates you more than the sight of the corpse itself.

“Quite a specimen, very good choice! But, you needed tips, correct?”

All you can think of to respond is a simple nod of your head.

“Then let's get started!” With a snap of his clawed fingers, a sleek black apron covers his suit.

The next few hours were grueling, but.. fun? If you're allowed to call it that. You were given multiple pointers, and sure, they were all quite helpful, but they were in excruciating detail. What certain parts of the body you should pick or avoid was one thing, but discussing what wine pairs with what organs? It's not a conversation you ever thought you'd have.

By the time the meal looks normal, all decorated with spices in a baking pan and in the oven, you instinctively go to do dishes. As you fill the sink and start bringing things over, a little creature has you nearly tripping. You look down, seeing a strange little stitched doll carrying most of the dishes to the sink. No matter how strange it looked, you respond with a curious hum, fully desensitized to it at this point.

“Huh..” is all you can say. You take any remaining dishes and follow suit, plopping it all into the water. The little doll seems to be tugging at your leg when you try to walk off. It's holding its arms up to you, letting out little murmurs that sound restrained by the stitches across its mouth. You hesitate at first, but scoop it up in your arms and place it aside the sink. And it gets to work scrubbing away.

“Damn, you're cute, and you clean? Can I keep you?” You ask it quietly, giving it a quick pat on the head. It seems to smile.

“Quite a delightful little thing, one of my better creations, I must admit.” The response from him seems to scare the poor thing straight. It immediately lowers its head and focuses on cleaning. You scoff at the interaction between the two. if his own toy is scared of him, should you be as well? “That being said, I simply can not part with it. My apologies.”

“Oh, I was kidding. Mostly.” You reply quietly. You hear the first chuckle from him that seems genuine. No ill intent, just a joyous response to your little quip. It felt kinda.. Nice.

“So, Mr. Scary Demon Man-” You clear your throat before you speak. “-why are you here, exactly? did I do something to summon you? Or-” He cocks his head to the side at the title, a little twitch to his eye.

“Not at all, my dear. I simply wanted to help you in your little endeavors, from one cannibal to another, Haha!” His tone goes back to that of a salesman. Like he’s trying to convince you he’s something he’s not.

“Well.. thank you, I guess. I don't really understand why you’d want to help me without wanting something in return, though. You don't seem like-”

“-A charitable man? I suppose that’s fair.” He doesn’t give you a chance to reply. “If you’re so desperate to return the favor, why don’t we strike a deal? Just a little one. Between friends.”

You weren’t stupid. His words made it clear that this was his intention from the moment he chose to save your life. You shrunk a bit.

“Sure, between friends.” You let out a sigh, your somewhat chipper attitude immediately fading. He takes no time to be empathetic.

“Good! Now, you seem to have an eye for food. This meal was ideal considering your poor execution.” You can’t stop your eyes from rolling. “And you can’t get meals quite like this where I’m from. How about you keep providing, with my assistance, and I’ll make sure it’s prepared to the best of my abilities. In exchange for all my hard and generous work, I get half the spoils! Seems far more favorable on your end, but I’m feeling rather generous today.”

Where he’s from? You want to question it. You want to know more about him, you want to know -

“What’s your name?” Your sudden questioning leaves him speechless for a moment, but he’s quick to recover his charming smile. “You never told me.”

“Well, considering you won’t need my name if you don’t agree to this little game, how about I throw that in as well? You provide the living flesh, and I’ll handle the rest. And, you’ll get my name.” He stands before you, a bit too close for your comfort, as he reaches his hand out to you. “Call it a deal?”

An ominous green glow surrounds the two of you. It sends some kind of wind through your clothes and hair. His hand is especially bright, and his eyes go back to that frightening black that you experienced previously.

At the end of the day, if this is what you have to do to stifle those damned pains, it doesn't seem all that bad. You extend your hand, instinctively flinching at the seemingly impending danger. But that still doesn't stop you.

“O-Okay.. Deal.” With the touch of his palm against yours, the glow flashes, forcing your body to tense and your eyes to squeeze shut. It only lasts for a moment, though. When you open your eyes, you first examine your connected hands. His hand is huge compared to yours. From this proximity, you can truly take in how unnaturally tall he is.

Attempting to tug your hand back, his grip tightens, forcing your hand to his lips for a quick kiss to your knuckles. An outdated and surprisingly intimate action leaves you a bit flustered.

“My name is Alastor. It’s been a pleasure, my dear~”

And so, your transactional deal went on, right until your demise. You used a similar tactic to bring more meals to your doorstep, finding a handful of poor saps online. You weren’t exactly sure what he meant when he offered his assistance, but when the time came, a strength took over your body that you never experienced before. There were no more shaky hands or sympathy. Your aim was always true, and it was just so easy. Any impending dangers or possible retaliations were alerted to you by a subtle whisper, a voice, coming from just behind you. It was startling at first, but quickly became a comfort.

When it came to preparing the food, which Alastor said he’d handle, you’d essentially leave your victim's remains in the kitchen and would come back to a meal ready for the oven. Sometimes, you’d leave the body as is, limp on the couch, or sprawled on the floor, only when you were too exhausted to deal with the clean-up. On nights like that, you’d wake up to a completed meal the next morning. You liked to picture him going through your home, rolling up his sleeves and wearing that apron, cleaning things up, and cooking in your kitchen how he did that first night.

That being said, you didn't normally see his physical form. There was the lent strength and whispers during your hunts, but other than that, contact seemed to nearly cease. Why was that upsetting you? You cursed yourself for being too much of a romantic - for making this seem like anything more than a delusion you conjured up to make this whole action easier for you.

And that pain? That constant hunger that was never sufficed nearly went away. In fact, you’ve never felt fuller.

He did return on especially rare occasions. You never complained, and you attempted to hide your excitement when you'd catch him lurking in the corner of your eye.

Sometimes, it was to cook for you again. Despite the deal being in full swing, you would ask him to show you some of the recipes. Normally, it would just appear, looking delicious and homemade as always, yet you still pestered him to show you how to prepare some things. He always acted burdened by it, but seeing him cooking felt.. Domestic. Like, when he was cooking, he was truly in his element. It made it easy to forget what he was, which you found yourself questioning less and less. It simply didn't matter anymore.

One particular visit was late into the night. He actually woke you up from the racket, which had never happened before. Stumbling out of your bed, expecting to see police raiding your home or something worse, you’re instead met with a swaying radio demon and a shattered vase. Whenever he was around, soft music would play from your busted radio, a contrasting notion to the fumbling man in front of you now.

“Alastor?” You call out, a wave of relief hitting you and bringing the baseball bat from your hands to the floor. “What the hell are you doing? It’s like.. three in the morning..” The realization of the time makes the previous adrenaline seep out of you.

“Ha-ha! Isn’t that an interesting concept? The Devil’s Hour. Throw some religious implications, and it drives people mad! In reality, it’s just when your feeble body is at its most vulnerable.” He rambles on, spilling the drink from his bottle as he exaggerates his actions. He walks to you as he goes on, his body still swaying. “When your little fragile human heart reaches its lowest speed. When waking you would cause.. distress.” He goes on, his words suddenly sounding melancholic.

“Your breathing is erratic.” He adds, staring intensely at your heaving chest. “And you are hot to the touch-” The back of his claws trace the apple of your cheek, where even you can feel the heat radiating from your skin. Because his voice has no filter. You’ve never heard it like that before. You’ve never heard him sound so human.

His hand traces down your face to press against your chest. He’s feeling your heart. And it’s beating erratically.

“Your heart is fast. Are you distressed?” He leans in closer, to the point where you can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Do I make you distressed?”

In a flustered panic, you push him away. His closeness, his touch, it all threw you off guard.

“N-no, I’m just tired. You woke me up in the middle of the night, asshole.” You cross your arms over your chest, watching him laugh and struggle to find his bearings after being shoved. With a groan, you pull him by his slender arm over to the couch. He sits down with a thud, and you sit a careful distance next to him.

“That is what is so refreshing about you, my dear.” He lets out a dreamy sigh, and you pull the whiskey from his hand before he can break anything else. “Why - you have no idea who you’re dealing with, I could be a powerful demon overlord,” He slurs his words. “But, to you, I’m just your sweet radio demon~” He sings out.

Alastor leans into you, uncharacteristically tapping your nose. You swat his hand away, forcing another loud chuckle from him. He stays leaning forward, even seated beside you, he towers over you. Your wide eyes meet his.

“Even your eyes show no sign of fear. How curious.” You stay like this a little longer. His breath still reeks of expensive whiskey, but you can’t seem to tear your eyes from him. You’re terribly focused on keeping your distance, but he doesn't seem to have the same concern.

With a sly smile, he removes his coat and flips to his back, laying his head in your lap. With his long legs crossed over each other and hanging very much off the couch, you’re almost nervous to touch him. He wasn’t especially touchy, only doing so when necessary; fingers brushing against fingers, a hand on the shoulder for a mere second- why can you remember each moment so vividly? Why is it so fresh in your mind?

“Alastor, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you at home? or.. wherever you are when you're not here?” That’s still something you’ve questioned. You weren’t one to pester him so insistently, wery on losing the good thing you have going on.

“Unfortunately, I’m not sure! Be careful with your alcohol, my dear! Ha-haa!” He slurs out with a grin. “I suppose.. I prefer to be here.”

“What? Why? If you’re some powerful overlord, don’t you have somewhere better to be getting sloshed?” You scoff, keeping your eyes away from his head that was still perched comfortably in your lap. He seems to even nuzzle into your thighs a bit, and it only flushes you more. You take an unpermitted swig of his confiscated drink.

“Hm! Well, I can’t exactly get meat this fresh in Hell-” He taps his chin in thought to your rhetorical question that clearly went right over his head. “-besides! It’s not nearly as nice without you.” He sounds so matter of fact, so sure of his words. You hold your breath, suddenly reliving every moment together before this.

You’d chat and joke around in the kitchen, but you’ve really learned more about him than you thought. How he sews together those strange little creatures. And he seems so proud of them, despite their clear fear of his presence. You noticed he always puts some sort of spice in the meals he cooks, and that even if it's too much, you eat it anyway. How he simply hates getting dirty despite his occupation. He rolls up his sleeves, has that dumb apron, and uses those little toys of his to keep clean.

You loved it.

You’ve done nothing but enjoy every moment with him. You don’t need to know what he is to know that.

Wait, did he say Hell?

“You’re from Hell? There’s a Hell??” With a more shocked exclamation than feared, you finally look down at him. He’s too far gone, humming along to the music, he barely hears your questions. With a clearly defeated sigh, you brush his hair from his face. He winces from the action, his smile wavering but not breaking under your touch.

“Ah, I wish I knew how you survive this cozy little life.” His voice is quiet and mumbled.

You.

I can live this way because of you.

He manages to finish off the bottle with one more swig - when did he take that back?

Your thoughts begin to wander, absent-mindedly twirling strands of hair through your fingers, raking your fingers down his scalp, only to startle yourself with the sensation of animalistic ears. And they’re twitching. Whether it be your reaction or his, it seems to force a little yelp from you, so you reel your hand away.

“I didn’t mean to alarm you, darling.. Could you - or.. You can.. Continue. If you’d like.” His voice had dropped that strange filter again. You feel woozy. That whiskey you had shared, maybe it was strong. Or.. it was the middle of the night, you were sure you were just tired. You spiraled to come up with any reasonable excuse other than developing feelings for a Hellbound demon. You wonder if you-

Oh, you’re definitely going to Hell.

But, could it be something to look forward to?

Your intimate thoughts cloud your mind, leaving your hand mindlessly petting a literal demon. Your fingers combed through his hair, delicately clawing up the ears and pinching the softness at the tip of each one. Despite your thorough and elaborate massage, your mind has wandered to how a relationship with a possible hallucination of a demon would work out. But that's ridiculous, isn’t it?

“Alastor, can I ask you-” your words are brought to a halt and your eyes drop. A quiet hum of satisfaction, leaving a barely conscious radio demon, who’s head still sat in your lap. With a curse under your breath you decide you're trapped.

There was absolutely no chance of escape. What, were you supposed to wake him? What if you upset a powerful overlord demon, or whatever he claimed to be? Albeit uncomfortable, you force yourself to sleep. Enjoy it while you can, who knows if it's even real?

You didn't see him for awhile after that.

Alastor was a poinient man. He never missed a pick up before. So when you realized the meat you've portioned off for him was still sitting in your fridge, you start to worry. You're not exactly sure why, you’ve pushed any and every intimate thought from your mind.

This is purely transactional.

Even though his portion had gone untouched for a few days.. A few weeks, if you really think about it, you already had a date set with another victim.

It went on as usual. A dumb hunk of meat thinks he’s all that until you’re straddling him. You decide to stick to what you know works; a knife to the heart.

You mapped exactly where to plant it, as he fiddles with your top, and with a raised arm, you go to claim your next victim.

There was no warning.

There was supposed to be a warning.

The next thing you know, you're pinned to the floor, your wrist being gripped so tightly you have no other option than to scream and lose your grip on the knife.

Your date took no time. No hesitation.

The last thing you see is the opposing view. A stranger straddling your body with a knife held high above his head.

It seems so quiet.

And it's awful.

Where was the warning?

If anything, you should've at least heard Alastor's voice telling you how to avoid this. You always do. A slight pang of worry hits you, but it's quickly overtaken by anger.

With a final yelp that's fueled with frustration, hurt, and a broken heart, you met your demise quickly and alone.

By the time you've come to, you're surrounded by a handful of black eyed children. You immediately scramble backward, hitting your back against a brick wall. You’d notice your surroundings if these little scavengers werent eyeing you with an innocent curioustity. You let out a hiss, holding a hand over your eye. A streak of blackened blood comes from it, your palm thoroughly stained with it.

“You must be new~”

“You’re very handsome!”

“How did you die?”

A bombard of tiny voices and questions go straight over your head, a ringing in your ears forcing your mind to go hazy.

“Alright, give ‘em some space, kids!” A sweet voice seems to bring you back. You look down to your seated body. Your skin is a deathly gray, and your top is stained with your own blood. It’s still red. “Don’t overwhelm the poor thing, I’m sure they’re quite shaken!”

Your eyes then trace up the silhouette of a vintage looking entourage, then to a sharp-toothed smile. The woman stands before you, a hand held out to you.

Her eyes are just as black and her skin is just as pale as those children that now whisper and giggle to eachother nearby.

It didn’t take you long to realize your misfortune.

You died.

You’re upset sure, but you find that you’re mostly angry. None of this wouldve happened if you- if he-

“Come on, cutie! Let’s get you cleaned up.” Her considerate smile clears your mind almost immediately. You don’t hesitate accepting her assistance.

“He was supposed to help me. He said he would be there for me! I died because of him..!”

A strained smile and a quick nod is the only response you get to your angered rambling. The kind face that scooped you off the streets was Rosie, one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, who just so happens to own most the souls in Cannibal town.

Lucky you.

She did exactly as she said, having her fun and playing a bit of dress up with you. It wasn't exactly your style, but there were more concerning things when it came to your appearance. Your eyes were just as black as Rosie’s. As those children who have been following you around.. In fact, most residents of cannibal town had this feature.

You really are in Hell.

Right where you belong.

Right along side people who are just like you. It almost felt.. Comfortable.

You confided in her, going on and on about some jerk of a demon who broke a promise that cost you your life. How he had been helping you in fights, saved your life a number of times, taught you how to cook, showed up drunk to simply sit in your lap, then just fucking disapeared when you needed him most. Your face was turning red, from anger or the way you gushed about him, Rosie couldn’t quite decipher.

What wasn’t comfortable was the period clothing you were put in. But according to Rosie, it’s Perfect! What a doll!

“Is Alastor. The radio demon?” She completes your sentence with a sigh, standing to tower over you and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I hate to break it to you, hun, but no one’s seen him in quite a while.. If i’m being entirely honest with you, he’s a dear friend of mine.” You instantly tense at her words. You just went on a rant about how shitty he was, only to find out he’s disapeared with no explanation. Maybe it was a good reason. A good enough reason to leverage your own life? You aren’t sure.

“I have to find him!” You finally say, as if a lightbulb switched in your head. He seemed so unattainable all these years, but now? You’re in his house. “Miss Rosie! Can you help me? His name-”

“I can’t say he didn’t wrong you, but he’s a man of his word, hun.. If he’s not holding up his promises, then he might be in some real trouble.. ” You hear her voice crack, yet she doesn't let her smile drop.

Another factor to consider that Alastor might have bitten more than he can chew, yet she still sympathises with you. You nearly knock the wind out of her with your arms encircling her small waist. Your head rests just at her chest. You can’t see her face, but her arms are around you almost instantly.

As you got settled in town, you did actually use the skills that Alastor had taught you throughout your lifetime. You understood why he made your previous deal. Demon flesh was just fine, but you really needed to spice it up to be anything special. And even then, it still couldn't compare to fresh, living, meat.

You started off just making and baking your own food. Then, when one cannibalistic child asked to try some, they told their friends, who told others.

After a while, you were cooking for half the town. You had a line every morning out of your own home. Once Rosie took notice, it was time for you to make a deal.

“Why can’t I sign a contract with you? You’ve done so much for me, I trust you with my soul.” You had taken Rosie out for dinner, where you planned to discuss a potential deal. Even with you barely being in Hell for a year, you heard plenty about Extermination Day, contracts, dealing in souls, all of it. You did your research. You talked to some of the townsfolks and saw no real downside in giving your soul away. Your proposal seems to surprise her, though.

“You still have your soul? Didn’t you make a deal with Alastor?” She asks, quieting her voice when she says his name, as if just the sound of it would make you upset. It only makes your eye twitch, though, just at the thought of the whole ordeal.

“I did, but he didn't say anything about my soul.. Was he.. Supposed to take it?” You question.

“Well.. he’s made deals like that before, favors for favors, right?” You nod. “But to go all the way to Earth just for some food? That’s.. Not like him…” Rosie seems to be lost in thought, trying to piece together his intentions. You clear your throat, and attempt to calmly bring her back. You slide a tupperware container of lady fingers you had made just before this.

“I want a restaurant, Rosie. I’ve been keeping an eye on that abandoned shop in the town square. I can feed everyone in town if you’ll let me. And.. protection, of course. Would that work?”

She opens the box with a sparkle in her black eyes, almost immediately popping one of the delicate treats to her lips. With a hum of satisfaction and a snap of her fingers, the glowing golden paper floats in front of your eyes.

“It’s a deal, darling!”

You could barely call it a restaurant at first, but you were elated. Rosie granted you some extra hands to make deliveries and assist in the kitchen. Everything seemed to be going your way. Your first extermination day went by quickly. For some reason, angels weren’t destroying everything in town. And you and your little shop were both safe, untouched, really.

You had a steady job, loving customers, and a residency near the center of town. You were almost surprised how having a shared interest, in eating human flesh, can bring people together. And after just a few years, you had a community.

You had a family.

Something you never really though you’d have, in life or death; A home.

Things were going so well. This was supposed to be your happy ending. It had been a few years since you had signed the contract, and you still feel satisfied with your decision. You could really be yourself here.

In Cannibal Town.

In Hell.

It made you laugh sometimes, how much joy the underworld brought you.

On a say that seemed like any other, you had sold out your stock for the day early, and went on to send the rest of yout employees home, when you heard a ruckus near the gazebo.

The screech of a microphone, and a very distant agitated Susan, is all you can truly hear from where you are. You drop everything to join the crowd.

It was the princess of Hell.. You weren’t one to keep up with politics or media, there was no need for you. You entertained yourself plenty just by residing in town. But, you managed to hear her blow up before being dragged away. A tall, rugged figure takes their place, ready to entertain the crowd while the Princess gathered herself.

“Come one, come all! While our little princess is collecting herself, who would appreciate a quick song, hm?”

“There is no fucking way..” You mutter to no one but yourself.

Alastor.

He holds his hand up to his ear, waiting patiently for the adoring crowd to praise his presence before he went on. You knew Rosie was a friend of his, he was a cannibal afterall, but for the entire town to love him just as much? Including Susan?

It’s absurd.

He went on to perform some showtune, one that sounded familiar to you. The crowd excitedly surrounds the pavilion, dragging you nearly to the front. You held a look of disgust. A look of betrayal.

You didnt want to see him, you told yourself. Things were perfect as is, you felt no need to repair a relationship with your imaginary friend you conjured up while alive.

Although, you never thought you had to. He had been gone for years, he nearly became just a passing thought.

An unreasonable part of you stayed put. A part of you wants him to see you and recognize you, to remember what he had forgotten. You stood with your arms crossed, your heart beating rapidly just at the sight of him.

He looks entirely the same, completely unphased. You’ve changed so much visually, and you’re happier now. Bolder. You’re not shying down now.

He catches your eyes.

The music screeches to a halt, sounding like a record player needle dragging across the disc. You’re holding back a smile, almost proud that you were able to stop him in his tracks. This had to be the first time he’s thought of you in over seven years.

And stops singing.

Lucky for him, the princess is finally ready to make her own point. You stick around, not exactly paying attention to her lyrics. You keep your face of disdain strong, stepping away and flinching at any advance Alastor would make to reel in the crowd. He seems to distract himself just fine until Charlie whisks away the crowd. Again, you're firmly planted in your spot.

Alastor turns to you, much more apparent of who he’s dealing with now that you stand alone from the crowd. His ears are flat against his head, and his smile is turned at the corners. His eyes seem to dart back and forth as if he’s deciding whether or not to stay. To be with you.

Oh, he’s nervous.

You’ve never seen him nervous before. It feels good. You’re making the almighty Radio Demon nervous. You smile just slightly. But not a smile between old friends, but a smile in response to his realization that he fucked up.

Despite your delay, Alastor continues on with the rest of the parade. Your body immediately lost all tension once he leaves.

“Well, well! I knew I recognized that menu. I was ready to tear apart some poor sinner for using my recipes.” A familiar, antagonizing voice echoes throughout your little empty shop.

You turn on your heels, almost startled by the sudden intrusion.

Almost.

But, you'd be lying if you said you weren't hoping for it.

Just a little.

Of course, he'd come back. Maybe to make another lowly deal. Or to get you to do more menial tasks for him, to flaunt his power and authority.

“Yeah, well.. when you've been left for dead, and all you have is your skills, you do what you have to, to survive.” You snap, turning your back to him to continue wiping off an already spotless counter. “Plus, it never hurts to marginalize.”

“I've actually tried some of your food here.. Hm! And I hadn't the slightest idea who prepared such a meal. You've gotten better, I'll give you that! Such a small world.” He says with a nostalgic sigh. You can hear his heels clicking throughout the empty store, circling the room before eventually approaching you.

How can he speak to you like you were still.. aquitanced?

“I hope whatever kept you busy these seven years was worth my life.” You mutter. You weren't sure if you wanted him to hear that or not. Maybe if he did, he'd finally apologize or-

“Oh, it was! A nice little sabbatical is exactly what I needed.” You quickly turn to see him polishing his claws against his coat and smiling quite brightly. “I will say it is a pleasure to be meeting you here! I'm glad you settled in so easily.”

“You killed me, Alastor! You were supposed to keep me safe.. and now I'm dead! Because you disappeared without a word!” You start to scold him, finally hitting a breaking point. All he does is scoff at you.

“Oh please, I didn't even take your soul. And it's not like you'd end up anywhere else if you were to perish later on.” He speaks so casually about it all.

But, you were ready to cry. To kick and scream at his arrogance.

The feeling of sharp fingers engulfing your shoulders leaves you suddenly tense and puts your murderous thoughts on hold. He's vanished from in front of you and now looms over you, his eyes meeting yours from over your shoulder.

“Plus, you seem to be quite happy here! Why don't we just call it even then, hm?”

He can not be serious.

You pull away from him, the tears welling in your eyes finally letting loose.

“Alastor, stop!” You yelp, turning to face him. “That’s.. so unfair! You broke a promise! And you-” you hold your finger out to scold him even more, but you feel your body simply going slack. “-you hurt me.. I just.. thought that after all that time, after that night, you'd care a little more..” You look up to him, in the hopes of being met with some sort of sympathy. But his unnatural smile goes unwavering. You rub your arm awkwardly, losing your confidence as your words turn more vulnerable without your realizing.

“Oh, I can feel your pain, not to worry dear. I truly meant no harm when I couldn't hold up my end of the deal.” He's smiling and drawing out his words, only setting off a sense of unease within you. You finally let out a shaky sigh.

“With everything you've done for me.. I thought that.. you might've liked being around me…” You let out, your voice running slightly ragged from the previous shouts. “I thought we were having a good time! Then after all this?” You grow an uncertain smile.

A previous sight that made you giddy before only brings you dread now. His ears are flat, his eyes struggle to meet yours. He's losing his composure.

“I wouldn't be surprised if you wanted it to happen.” You laugh through your words, your hands raking through your hair in a stressed manner. In your little pits of passion, you don't get the chance to see his wavering smile, the grimace on his face, any of it. When your words are met with silence, though, that's when you finally look up to him.

He's nervous, again.

“Oh.. my-” your sentence barely starts before he attempts to cover his slip up.

“Now let's calm down, I really didn't mean for- I didn't intend-”

“Isn’t there rules to this? Were you ever allowed to meddle with my life in the first place - let alone - be on Earth??”

“-God! You killed me on purpose?? Just so I could come down here to do your bitch work?” You snap, your laugh becomes delirious and your tears betray the anger you're meant to be showing.

He’s scrambling for a witty reply, his expression finally showing his true intentions for the first time in a long while. He’s speechless.

“I’m such an idiot.. Of course, you never cared. Bastard.” You mumble your words to the room, losing any fear of him hearing your insults.

Your vulnerability sends a strange shiver down his spine. One he’s never felt before, one that makes his chest ache and his muscles tense.

“Well - Now, let's just talk for a moment before you-” Alastor extends his hand out to your turned back, but it never reaches you. A delicate grip takes his wrist, bringing him to a full stop. He stops, unnaturally snapping his neck to see who would dare disrupt the Radio Demon himself.

His ears flatten against his head, and with a sudden disbelief in what he’s seeing, his eyes return to their normal crimson.

Rosie towers over his hunched form, her eyes stern.

♡♡♡

“Al, sweetheart, you gotta go. You're disturbing my client.”

I love when Alastor fucks up and found out

THIS IS A TWO PARTER I PROMISE

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widowmaxff · 10 months ago

Note

if you wanted to, could you please write an angsty oneshot of moms!wandanat and reader where they get into a a bad argument which results in reader running away to yelena’s? ending could be happy or sad- up to you overall!

proud

pairings: parents!wandanat × daughter!reader | yelena × fem!reader (all platonic)

warnings: angst, argument, crying, insecure reader (?), happy ending!, steve × reader (platonic) at some time of the one shot, bad writing

a/n: i finished this crying because a cockroach attacked me, so thats why the ending was kind of bad writing sorry :P anddd tysm for your request <333 i loved writing this

You were never sure when it started, but it was probably a long time ago. When you learned that having parents who fought the super villains in the world wasn't normal, you realized that your life wouldn't be normal either. But even though you liked seeing your mother training with her red powers or running and being able to do whatever you wanted through the great corridors of the Compound, you still missed having a 'normal' life.

Being able to go out on the street without worrying about some evil man who hates one of your mothers kidnapping you or even being able to make friends at school without them being people who just wanted to meet your uncles, were things you wanted so much to experience. But that wasn't the only thing that made you feel bad in your daily life, having mothers who were superheroes also made you barely see them in weeks.

Even though most people your age didn't want anything to do with their parents anymore, you still missed the comforting and long hugs, the nights you had a marathon of your favorite movies and even when you still had dinner together as a family. But now, either they were too busy with work, like missions and paperwork, or they just didn't want to deal with a teenager.

And even then you tried to get their attention in some way. "Mom?" You knock softly on Natasha's office door, hearing a quiet response for you to enter. "Can you help me study for my test of the next week? I really don't understand this." You chuckle seeing your mother's eyes continue on the papers on her desk.

"Can't you look up the answer on the Internet or something? I'm really busy here, Y/n/n." You knew that Natasha would dismiss you somehow, but deep down you still hoped that she would look at you.

"Yes, but- I wanted to understand how to solve it and not just research it." You whisper, watching your mother write something down in the corner of the paper.

"Wanda can help you." She says, her eyes unable to take the words from her face for even a minute.

"Okay- um, thanks anyway, Mom." You only hear a mumble under her breath, making you wonder if there was something wrong with you. You close the office door with a little less hope this time. Your other mother was always a step ahead than Natasha in terms of emotional comfort, so maybe she would help you in your task by remembering your daily difficulties with that kind of thing. "Mama?"

"Yes?" Your mother murmurs, you barely listening. Wanda was sitting on the sofa at the Compound while devouring herself with a book in her hands.

"Can you help me study for my test of the next week, please?" You sit next to her while Wanda flips through another white page of the big book.

"Now?"

"Yeah. If it's possible."

"Can I help you...tomorrow?" Wanda finally looks at you from above her book. "Today is my only day off from the week's missions and paperwork and I'm really tired right now, my love." Your eyes fall to your hands in your lap, it was obvious that deep down you knew she was going to promise you something and maybe she would deliver. But by the time the next day passed, and then the next, and then the next... and Wanda didn't talk to you about it, you knew she wasn't going to help you.

And when you felt your head hurt just looking at that big red note in the corner of your test, you knew your mothers' wouldn't react so well to it. Maybe before they started spending time apart from you, they wouldn't get mad or anything like that because of your grade, but now you were sure that wasn't what would happen.

Stirring your fork on the plate still full of food, you go over the things you would say to your mothers' about your school grade. You travel between words and don't even notice when someone enters your field of vision. "Is everything okay, Kid?" It was your Uncle Steve. He sits in front of you watching you think about what to say to him.

"Yeah, it's just...school stuff."

"Is someone picking on you?" You knew that Steve almost saw you as a daughter, and you also knew that he was aware of how your mothers would rather be busy than deal with a teenage girl going through puberty, and that maybe now is the time when you needs them the most.

"Not like before, but that's not it." You leave your fork on your plate before sighing deeply. "I just got my test and I didn't get a very good grade," Murmuring you hold back the tears that sting your eyes. "now I don't know how I'm going to tell my mothers this."

Steve sighs. "I'm sure they won't fight with you, Y/n/n. Your mothers' will understand what happened and a grade doesn't define who you are, okay?" Your uncle didn't have much certainty in his voice but you tried to believe him anyway. You nod and put a small smile on your face, as a gesture of thanks.

Steve ruffles your hair, getting up from the chair when he hears the loud and unmistakable footsteps of your mothers' approaching you. He sends you a smile to try to reassure you that everything will work out, and with each step closer to you, your heart starts to accelerate. Your mothers' had a neutral expression, even if Natasha seemed angrier. "Aren't you going to eat?" Wanda asks, walking past you and heading towards one of the closets.

Completely ignoring the question, you take a deep breath and swallow hard. "I received the grade for that test in which I asked you to help me study." You mutter as you saw your mothers still facing away from you. "I got a D." Your voice was low, but even so, the two stopped what they were doing and looked into the depths of your soul.

"You got what?" Natasha seemed to finally understand that you were there. Her arms crossed as she walked towards you.

"I-I asked for help and-"

"Now you're trying to get out of this by blaming us for not helping you?" Wanda cuts you off making your eyes focus on her.

"I'm just saying- I tried, okay?!" It could be said that you got anger issues from your mom genes, or that you were just overwhelmed and your patience was running out. And when your tone of voice increased, you knew Natasha's anger would increase as well.

"Hey, don't talk to your mother like that!" Natasha slams her fist on the table in front of you, making you almost jump out of your seat.

"Well, you shouldn't be talking to me like that either." You didn't know where so much courage came from to fight back against your mother, but when you realized it, the damage had already begun.

"I'm your fucking mother, I talk to you however I want!" Natasha had never made you feel as scared as you did now, but it seemed like now that the words started to come out, they wouldn't stop.

"Ah, you haven't even been acting like a mother these past few months. Hypocrisy, huh?" When you finished speaking, you saw Wanda's eyes want to turn red like her hair. She approached the two of you quickly with the angriest expression you had ever seen.

"What's your problem, Y/n?!"

"My problem?" You get up from the chair and cross your arms, anyone who saw you in that position would notice the similarities in anger between you and Natasha. "You tell me! I'm not the person who would rather spend time anywhere else than with her own daughter. I'm not the one who forgets that she still has a daughter to raise!"

You screamed so loud that you were sure the entire Compound could hear that argument and that they could probably feel the tension in that environment from afar. If you were in a cartoon, you could see smoke coming out of Natasha's head and definitely Wanda's eyes catching fire. "You're being so selfish right now, Y/n."

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are! Just because your mother and I work all day to give you a better life, you think that we don't pay attention to you?" You had never seen Wanda like that, screaming and looking like she could kill anyone who came in front of her.

"Ah, yeah. Because last week when you weren't working you preferred to spend the whole day with Peter than with me just because he got a good grade!"

"Yes, because he always made us so proud by passing all the tests he had, unlike you!" Natasha spits the words out of her mouth without even thinking about what she was saying. And when they passed your ears you could feel your heart breaking.

Hearing that your mothers were more proud of a teenager who worked with them than they were of you made you feel like a gunshot was slowly passing through your chest. Natasha and Wanda knew how insecure you felt in your daily life, mainly due to academic validation, and now it seemed like all those days they had to spend helping you feel better about yourself were going down the drain.

Natasha sighs deeply when she sees your eyes widen, holding back tears that would fall at any moment. Wanda didn't seem any different when she heard the same words coming out of her wife's mouth. She never imagined that an argument of that size would ever happen between you, and Wanda could have sworn that she felt her heart stop beating out of disgust at the thought of how bad you must be feeling right now. "Y/n, I didn't mean-"

"It's okay." You murmur, uncrossing your arms. Two tears fall from your eyes and you make sure to wipe them away quickly. Your eyes were anywhere but on your mothers, because you felt so disgusting knowing that they were more proud of Peter than they were of you, that you couldn't even look at them.

Neither Wanda nor Natasha say anything when you turn and start walking out of the kitchen. You seemed to be walking automatically, your eyes blurry and your mind foggy, just going through your mother's words, over and over. But when you realize it, you're already outside the Compound, a few blocks away. You remember only one person who could help you outside of that place, and who wouldn't mind if you showed up suddenly.

And that's how you found yourself in front of Yelena's apartment, your aunt. She had found a place to live close to Natasha's house when she reconnected with her years ago, and especially when she discovered that she had a daughter, you. "Y/n?" Yelena seemed confused to see you there, with your face soaked and red, looking like an abandoned puppy. "Hey, what's wrong?" She didn't take long to have you in her arms.

"M-Mom and Mama h-hate me." You finally managed to murmur after some time sitting on the sofa in the apartment with Yelena stroking your hair and saying affectionate words.

Anyone who saw her doing this wouldn't believe it. Yelena wasn't the type of person for physical touches and especially sweet words, but when the subject was you, she became another person. "Why do you say that? They love you more than anything, Y/n/n."

"No, they don't."

Yelena had never seen you like this, not when you cried for days when you saw your favorite character dying, not when your mothers had to leave for a long mission. It was strange to see you crying almost as if there was no air in your lungs, your aunt wondered what happened to make it look like you had a bullet in your body and you were begging her to take it out. So, when you fell asleep crying on the couch, Yelena didn't wait a minute to call Natasha and insult her in every way possible. "What the fuck did you do?"

"What?"

"Y/n showed up at my door, I've never seen her crying as much as she does now." Yelena looks at you from the apartment's kitchen, you were curled up on the sofa with a blanket covering your body.

"Are you with her? Wanda and I were looking for her throughout the entire Compound." Natasha seemed to be relieved on the other end of the call, but even so her voice still sounded apprehensive about what had happened. "We're going to your apartment, I'll answer your question when we get there."

"You better!"

[...]

"She's sleeping on the couch." Yelena says when she sees Wanda and Natasha's eyes follow behind her, trying to find you. Yelena noticed Wanda's red eyes, not as if she wanted to cast circles of magic through her hands, but as if she had cried before arriving at the apartment. Your aunt knew that Wanda was sensitive, especially when it came to the topic of you and that you probably inherited that from her too, but for you two to cry so much like that, something really happened.

"Tell me what happened before you look at my niece again." Yelena has always been very protective of you, for example the time two girls made you the target of jokes in your school, and your aunt didn't wait a second to go to each of their houses and have a word with them.

"I better show you." Wanda says getting closer to Yelena, moving her fingers that came out red magic towards her mind - Steve messing up your hair, Wanda opening cabinets, red grade, Natasha screaming, you screaming, not being a mother, Wanda screaming, Peter being mentioned, not proud, disgusting feeling, you crying, you leaving the kitchen.

"Jesus." Yelena sighs deeply, running her hands over her face. "I really don't know how you're going to fix this, but I'll warn you: the hole is deeper than it looks."

"What- what do you mean by that?"

"Look, I'm sure you didn't want this to turn into a big snowball, but Y/n been feeling neglected for so long that after today it might take a while for things to get back to normal." Yelena says leaning on the front door frame.

"We didn't-"

"Yes, you did this to her. Today wasn't the first time she's shown up at my door in the last few months, but she's worse than the other times." Yelena crosses her arms and closes her eyes trying to calm down. "I had to listen to her talk about how you hardly talk to her on a daily basis, how you forgot to go to her presentation at school and didn't even apologize, how there were days when you forgot to pick her up and she had to walk in the rain to my apartment because it was closer, how she cried because you never had movie nights again because apparently now you have movie nights with Peter." Yelena's voice got louder with each thing she remembered you saying to her, and there were countless things. "I don't want to hear what you have to say, I want you to talk to her, apologize."

Natasha was so embarrassed to hear all those things from Yelena that she preferred to remain silent. Wanda had started to cry again, but it was silently, digesting all those things they did and didn't do to you. She had always dreamed of being a mother and now that she wasn't acting like one made her want to vomit over her own actions.

"Can we see her?" It was a stupid question coming from them, since they were your mothers and have the right to see you whenever they want. But they knew that everything was messy and bad for you because of them, so the least they had to do was respect your space.

Yelena just nods and gives Wanda and Natasha space to enter the apartment, taking light steps towards you. They bend down in front of you and see your swollen eyes and your red face with dried tears. Your mothers could cry just to see you in this state. Wanda starts to caress your face trying to make you wake up calmly, it was something she used to do when she went to your room in the morning every day to wake you up. And when you felt that you quickly knew who it was. "Mama?"

"Shh, yes it's me, my love." Wanda says with a small smile on her face when she hears your voice. You seemed lost for a few seconds but when you looked around the apartment you quickly remembered, throwing off the blanket and quickly sitting down on the couch. "Hey, it's okay."

"What are you two doing here?" You murmur, looking at your mothers' faces, who seemed sorry for everything that happened.

"We... came to talk and apologize, is that okay for you?" Natasha says, you could see in her face that she felt just as guilty as Wanda, because most of those horrible words were said by her. "Yeah, I guess." Wanda sighed in relief at your answer and felt some of the weight leave her body.

"I know that just apologies won't be enough to make you want to be around us for now, but your mother and I are completely sorry, my love. We were so stupid about leaving you aside these last few months, we didn't even realize what we were doing to you and it's really fucked up." The swear word made you laugh briefly, putting a smile on your mothers face. "And maybe you don't want to forgive us and that's definitely okay, but know that we're going to do everything we can to get things back on track, okay?"

Natasha agrees with Wanda's words and takes a deep breath before starting to speak. "We love you very, very much, sweetheart. And you are our greatest pride in our entire lives. I know you may not believe this, but you can be sure that me, your mother, your aunt and all your other uncles feel most proud of you, okay? You're our little star and our little agent."

A genuine smile appears on your face when you hear the sweet words that came out of your mothers' mouths. "First, you guys are literally the only people I want by my side and that's the only thing I've wanted these last few months. And I'm really grateful that you guys are sorry about that, even though it's probably going to be hard for things to go back to normal." They nod their heads when they hear your words in your low voice. "And I... forgive you. Not completely but until I can feel good again, but I think hearing you say sorry is a start."

"Okay, yes, that's okay." Wanda leaves a kiss on your forehead and strokes your hair affectionately. "We love you so much, dear."

"Love you too." You say, hugging the two women in front of you, finally feeling maternal affection after feeling neglected for so long and wondering what you had done wrong. Even though it took a while to get used to it all again, you were definitely happier than ever just hearing the words that they were proud of you. "Now I finally don't need to come to talk to Auntie Yelena anymore."

"Hey! I heard that!" Yelena shouts from another room in the apartment making the three of you laugh. You loved making fun of her, but even so, you will always be thankful for all the things she did for you. "Wow you're so ungrateful, Mini Romanoff."

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aquatint-101 · 2 months ago

Text

They tell you that you are a god, that thousands of years of unnamed power thrums beneath your veins. Yet your lungs rise and fall as they always have, and you feel just as human as ever-

(Maybe you never have been. Maybe your only reference point is you, and that is where your error is gravest. If you have been a god all along, what would you know of being human?)

-x-

They start to fear you for the accident of your birth. You try to tell them that you are the same as you have always been. You play all the same games, throw pies off the stony balcony ledge and watch them land and burst open like overripe fruit, gooey cream exploding into the air.

But they stop smiling at your jokes. They stop listening to the songs you've learned to play on your flute. They never say we're not friends anymore, because it's not true, not exactly. Friends are people that can be trusted and you, you are not a person.

There is only one man in the world who thinks otherwise.

-x-

They want to take him away from you. They want to tear you from your home and your family and what little you have left. You have been taught not to be covetous, but this angers you.

So you run, like the wind that has been trapped between the trees. You see the wide, open sky and decide to conquer it, just like your people have for generations. But it's not the storm that swallows you; the waves claims you before the clouds can.

You sink to the ocean's depths, and your grip on the reins starts to falter.

(You are not human, and this keeps you alive. Perhaps it is the elements. Perhaps it is the magic. Perhaps it is something far older than both. Your eyes glow beneath your closed eyelids, and your tattoos burn with impossible light. You are breathing still.)

-x-

They want to ask you how you did it, want you to reach inside the depths of your murky memory and proffer your secrets to them. But you have no answers to give her when she keeps questioning how you forced the turning tides to do your bidding.

The answer is simple. You didn't, the monster did.

See, there is a monster inside of you. Not a god, because gods are never this angry, never this vindictive. The monster wants to rage and destroy everything it sees painted in red, but you will not let it. The monster eats you up when you get scared or angry, and you are never strong enough to make it go away.

She is. She calls out to you and her voice somehow lulls the monster back to sleep. She cradles you in her arms and tells you that you can let go. You think her words are lost on you, because you are not the monster.

-x-

They want to pull the monster out from inside you, and you let them. The monster has laid waste to armies while all you have done is run, run, run. Your people are gone because of you, but the monster saved you. Perhaps it can save them too.

She tells you in plain terms that she does not like this, and you can see the fear in her eyes when she talks about rage and pain and you. You do not know how to respond. Perhaps if you cut enough pieces of yourself away, the monster can finally save you both.

It's okay, you want to say. I'm scared of it too.

All you give her is cold, cold silence.

-x-

They are gone, and you are all that is left of them. They are gone, and it is you, two animals, and a monster that stubbornly claws its way out of you when you are forced to confront this fact. The monster is everything your people would have hated, because it aches for blood and vengeance in a way you never can.

(They are your people, they have to be, and you cannot be this other, this god, that they just raised like a cuckoo in the nest.)

In the desert, as the heat scorches your bare skin, you look at your shaking hands. You do not deserve to be the last of your kind, because now when anyone thinks about your culture of peaceful monks, they will think about the monster inside you.

-x-

They are right to fear the monster, and you are right in wanting to control it. You seek out someone who promises to help you tame it. He wears the saffron of your people but smiles sadly when he says he is not one of them. He tells you about your guilt and your fear, your hope and your longing, and all the things you have to confront.

And it doesn't make sense. This isn't about you, this is about excising the monster inside you.

But as you gulp down the horrible banana onion juice he insists on feeding you, the truth hits you like a falling meteor. There is no monster, no other force inside you that magically appears when you get sad or angry.

There has only ever been you.

-x-

They are disappointed that you cannot summon the monster anymore, but you are just relieved. The anger keeps building inside you, like a roaring flame or a rising tide or a towering mountain or a howling wind. Its pitch and roll keeps you up at night, the names of all you have lost black marks against the inside of your skin.

You try to be as you have always been, but your smiles never reach your eyes, and the notes of your flute always sound out in minor key. They probably notice that something is wrong, but they don't say much except to push you towards your destiny.

Your temples are in ruins, and they think you weak for trying to hold on to them. They think you weak for forgiving, not knowing that the alternative, letting the monster have at them, would have been far worse. But it's okay now, the monster can't hurt anyone ever again. You can't hurt anyone ever again.

-x-

They tell you to kill him, and you want to say no. The voices of your friends, the voices in your head, the voice of the monster, they all scream at you to just end it. But a smaller voice, one that speaks from your heart, just whispers in quiet opposition.

The monster is you, has been this whole time, but you are not a monster. You are more than a living relic or a god given flesh. You are a person, the last of your kind, and they all live on in you, so for their sakes and yours, you say no.

"I'm not going to end it like this."

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eldritchcreatureofwords · 2 months ago

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I'm a little tired of seeing the 'Stolas should have defended Blitz at Ozzies!!!!' posts/takes. 1. Blitz caused that entire situation. Start to finish. He wasn't supposed to be there, he wasn't there under genuine pretenses, and he shouldn't have said anything when Moxxie was coming under fire.

But but but, you say, Moxxie was being bullied! Blitz was standing up for his friend!!!! He's protective that way!!!! You aren't wrong, but if you notice, Moxxie doesn't actually seem that upset or flustered by what Ozzie and Fizz are doing. After they go after him the first time, he continues singing his original song, not changing a thing, fully unintimidated. Moxxie is a sweet, sensitive boy, but he's also strong, smart, and not a delicate little princess. He's not happy he's under fire and being mocked, he's upset his moment is being bashed and ruined, but he's also standing his ground and dealing with it.

Blitz had good intentions but he only escalated a situation further and made everything much worse, as well as bringing the fire towards himself- and his red buttons are much bigger and easily pressed then Moxxie's. (Also, if you watch Moxxie's face, he looks horrified when Blitz speaks up. It's very, very possible that he knows Verosika is there already (and that's part of why he didn't want Blitz there.) 2. Stolas did get up to help. Go and watch Ozzie's again guys. He rises when Verosika gets Blitz backed against the stage, pupils showing, concerned and upset. Everything about his body language after that suggests he fully intends to step in. I've seen people accuse Stolas of trying to sneak out during this moment, and if you pay even an iota of attention that's clearly wrong.

Then, he is dragged into the spotlight. Called out, put under a microscope, and physically, bodily manhandled. Stolas is shy. He is introverted. He has been kept isolated from basically everyone his entire life. He's terrified of losing his daughter. He's ashamed of what happened to him. He's a mother fucking abuse survivor. And now he is being called out, confronted, and harassed over something he's just barely coming to terms with himself.

Of course he didn't react super well to that. Of course he wasn't the white knight blazing in to save Blitz.

What did ya'll who think this want him to do, stand up, yell I LOVE BLITZ THE IMP AND I DON'T CARE WHO KNOWS????? at the top of his lungs, magically shedding every ounce of trauma, changing his personality to a brazen extrovert, and learning a lifetime of social skills all in that one moment through the power of love? He hid behind his menu because he is shy. He is scared. He is traumatized. Not because he's ashamed. But because all ya'll are so focused on Blitz, on his trauma and his hurt (and he is traumatized and hurt, and he has the right to be, and no one is downplaying that) that you're choosing to overlook Stolas's in favor of just saying he's a big ol' mean meanie. And finally:

3. Blitz brought that night on himself. Look, I'm sorry. Blitz wasn't supposed to be there. He had many, many opportunities to rethink his rash, impulsive, hasty choices that night. Many, many chances to reconsider lying to his situationship, taking advantage of Stolas's naive eagerness to be around him, sneaking into a place his friends don't want him to be, speaking up in defense of Moxxie- all of it. I am not saying he deserved what happened. I am saying that he brought Stolas there under false pretenses, went somewhere he wasn't supposed to go, and then stirred the pot. He did this because he's traumatized. Because he's lonely. because he's protective. Because he's desperately and not mentally well and hurting deeply and doesn't think Stolas sees him as anything but a fuck toy- or at least, wants to think that. Doesn't dare hope it could be more because he's not allowed to have more.

But he still did it.

#helluvaboss #stoltiz #blitzø #stolas #millie helluvaboss #moxxie helluvaboss #fizzarolli

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 2 years ago

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TAKE CARE OF YOU [3]

Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Overall Warnings: slow burn, angst/comfort, power imbalance, age gap, possessive tendencies, eventual smut, #daddyissues, independent reader learns to let go and relax, emotionally constipated Joel Miller learns to be vulnerable; (more specific warnings to be added to individual chapters if necessary)

Chapter Word Count: 4,501

Summary: You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It's why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn't look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn't be so hard. Would it?

[a/n: I'm feeling Fridays for the update day, but i'm not married to that idea yet. also thank you for all the love this has seen so far!! I am so happy to know I'm not the only one that would sell my soul to have Joel Miller as my sugar daddy.]

03: YOU THINK MY VOICE IS PRETTY?

"the way his voice sounds, or the words he speaks, i can never decide what pulls me in more." -butterflies rising

‘Morning, sugar’.

You chuckled at the term of endearment and leaned back in your seat. The other people on the bus surrounding you were living their own lives as always. You recognized many of your routine bus neighbors. The woman who ate an onion bagel every single morning on her way to work, the man who still read an actual newspaper rather than use his phone, the brother and sister duo⏤only teens⏤ on their way to school. You wondered how these people classified you in their head.

‘Morning to you too⏤’ You paused. Should you call him ‘daddy’ again? Saying it teasingly was one thing, but typing it somehow made it seem more permanent. Which was a stupid thought to have, but it was the one that plagued you nonetheless. You deleted your words and started again. ‘Morning! How⏤’ Again, you froze. Was the exclamation mark too much for this early in the morning? It was only yesterday that you made this deal with him and it would be sad for you to annoy him so early in the deal. Delete. Repeat. ‘Joel⏤’ Way too formal. Okay. You were officially over thinking this.

‘Hey! How’s your morning going?’

The moment you hit send that dumb little anxiety riddled voice at the back of your head tried to criticize your choice of words and you had to wrestle it back down. Almost immediately you saw the text bubble of dots pop up as he typed.

‘Great. First meeting got canceled. You?’

It was marginally funny to you that the man who owned this huge company seemed so dead set on avoiding meetings. Plus, it was kind of cute that he was more comfortable in flannel than suits.

‘Just on the bus heading to work!’

The text bubble popped up immediately, then disappeared, then came back, then disappeared once more. As you waited for it to return, his name filled the entire screen as he called you. Your eyes widened in surprise. After getting past your shock, you answered, “Uh, hi.”

“Sorry, repeat that for me.” Joel’s voice was nearly drowned out by a bunch of noise that you’d have to guess dealt with some kind of construction. “You’re on the ‘what’ heading ‘where’?”

“Bus? Work?” You replied in confusion.

Joel cleared his throat and he must have been moving since the noise simmered down. “Yeah, that’s what I thought you said, darlin’. Can I ask why?” The sound that left your mouth was a good representation of your broken brain. “Because I’m pretty sure you and I made a deal yesterday. Didn’t we?”

“We did.” You said slowly. “But⏤”

“Darlin’⏤”

“In my defense, I can’t just quit work. I respect Henry too much. I have to at least give him a two weeks notice so he can find a replacement.” You argued. Even if Henry wasn’t someone you considered family you’d still feel obliged to quit the correct way. Still, maybe that was something you should’ve mentioned yesterday before the two of you parted ways. “Sorry, Joel.”

He let out a small sigh. “There’s no need to be sorry. I understand. You’re too responsible for your own good.” You chuckled. “But the bus? The bus?”

You had to resist the urge to laugh at how insulted he was at the prospect of you on public transportation. You glanced over your shoulder out the window to see how far from work you were. “Well, ubers and taxis are so expensive from my house to the bakery. Plus, I have a bus card!”

“Bus card?” Joel repeated. His incredulous voice took an amused tone. “Sugar, you got daddy’s credit card.” Your eyes widened and you felt your entire face burn as heat filled your cheeks. As if somebody would be listening in, you glanced around at the people sitting near you. Joel chuckled, the sound low and deep, “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

“I, uh, I⏤ That’s a good point.” You cleared your throat. “It felt silly using the card for something like an Uber or taxi though. You know?”

“Nothin’ is too silly. I want you to use that card. All the time. Understand?”

“I understand.”

“I understand…” Joel repeated with enunciation at the end. Waiting for something. Waiting for…

“I’m on the bus.” You whispered into the phone, in shock, while covering your mouth.

Joel hummed. “Oh, I know. Now. I understand…”

You chewed on your lower lip, glanced around, then whispered into the phone quickly, “I understand, daddy.”

“Sorry, sugar. Couldn’t quite hear you there. Must be because of how loud and hectic that bus is.”

Your lips curled up into a broad grin as your face continued to burn. He cleared his throat to urge you on, and you shook your head with a slight chuckle. You blew out an amused breath and repeated yourself. “Yes. I understand, daddy.”

An older woman sitting to your left shot you a curious glance and you sunk in your seat, and turned toward the window to laugh. You could hear Joel’s breathy laugh over the line as well. Joel spoke up, “That’s better. As for this transport problem,” You rolled your eyes still grinning, “Can you drive?”

“Well, yeah.” You replied and the smile fell as a thought occurred to you. “That is not a reason to buy me a car.”

“Wow, you really think I’d buy you a car right out the gate like that?”

“Oh. Right. Sorry. I⏤” You paused then shook your head. “Wait, no, actually I do. I do think you’d do that.”

“You’re right. I would. You got a preference, sugar?”

“Please do not buy me a car.” You blurted. “I… I really don’t like driving around this city. Last time I even got behind a wheel was over two years ago.”

“Fine. No car. I’m gettin’ you a driver then.”

“That still feels excessive.” You replied hesitantly.

“Do it for me then? I’d feel more comfortable knowin’ you’re not ridin’ around with strangers.”

The words were spoken with kindness, actual concern, and a part of you wondered if he was saying what he was because it was expected of him? The deal was for him to take care of you and keeping you safe could arguably fall under that umbrella of responsibilities. You just found it hard to believe he’d care out of the goodness of his heart considering how little time you had spent with one another thus far. It wasn’t a criticism of him at all. Maybe he was just that kind deep down, maybe he did have a bleeding heart. It was the process of trying to apply that thought, those concerns, to yourself that felt silly. At the end of the day, that voice of anxiety just couldn’t fathom a near stranger actually worrying over your well being with no ulterior motive of their own.

Joel said your name over the line, snapping you out of your line of thought, and you forced your smile to return. It wasn’t hard to find. “Alright. For you.”

“Good.” He blew out a breath of what almost sounded like relief. “What time does your shift end?”

“It’s Sunday so I usually close up the shop around 5:30, then pack away all the leftovers to take to the shelter a few blocks away.” You replied. Anytime the shop had any leftovers, which was happening more and more, Henry would donate the goods to the local shelters and kitchens rather than toss it.

“I’ll have my guy there around 5 then. I don’t want you waitin’ on him.”

“Yeah, but now he’ll have to wait on me.”

“I know. That’s the point, darlin’.”

You couldn’t decide which you liked more. Joel calling you ‘sugar’ or ‘darlin’. Then again the sound of your name was equally as intoxicating. Honestly, it wasn’t fair how good his voice sounded in general. The bus peeled off to the side to come to a stop and you hiked your bag up your shoulder to get off.

“I’m at my stop.”

“Say good-bye to the bus. You ain’t ridin’ on it again as far as I’m concerned.” You chuckled and as you walked off you couldn’t help but glanced back at the familiar people you had gotten used to seeing so often. You mentally wished them a farewell. It was cheesy, but it nearly felt like the end of an era. Joel spoke again as you stepped onto the busy sidewalk. “And remember, my guy is pickin’ you up today. No ubers. No taxis. No buses.”

“I know, I know. I promise I won’t make a run for it.”

“Good girl.” Joel chuckled and your face immediately went warm once more. A habit you were beginning to pick up around this man. Joel said quick good-byes, saying he needed to help someone out on site and promised to text you later. You echoed his sentiments and tucked the phone away after hanging up. Wow, okay, it seemed hearing him call you ‘good girl’ won in a fucking landslide.

As it turned out, Henry had come in early to bake for the day, but left it open for you to set out as he hadn’t been feeling well and had to leave before you even got the shop fully open. It was incredibly poor timing because you planned to announce your two week’s notice to him and that seemed like a dick move to do while he was sick. Tomorrow. You’d try again tomorrow. No big deal. What would a one day difference make?

The bakery always had it’s busiest days on Sunday, weirdly, but still it was nowhere near the kind of traffic this place truly needed. Usually days where it ended up being you alone were even more painfully boring, but today had been, well, fun. Joel continued to text you through the day and the conversation was a decent distraction from the dichotomy of doing nothing between customers. Plus, without Henry there, you didn’t even have to pretend like you weren’t playing on your phone the entire time.

The last hour of your shift had gone by without Joel as a distraction because of a meeting. One he had grumbled about twenty minutes prior to it. You were in the process of packing items away when you noticed a black SUV sitting outside on the side of the road. Pausing in your work, you ran your hand down your apron and made your way out of the shop and toward it. You had just planned to tap on the window to get his attention, but you were barely halfway to the SUV when the man behind the driver’s seat jumped out and hurried around with a nod.

“Ma’am.”

“Hi.” You gave a small wave. “I’m⏤”

The blond man blurted your name out with a nod. Of course he knew who you were. “Is there anything I can do to help you, Miss?”

“No, no. I wanted to invite you in! It’ll be a minute before I’m done.”

“It’s alright⏤”

“I insist.” You said firmly. He hesitated once more before going to turn the car off. He was older than you, if you had to guess, and he wore a clean, black suit and a pair of dark aviators over his eyes. If he had a little radio in his ear you’d have him pegged as some kind of secret service guard. “What’s your name?”

“Riley Talbot, ma’am.”

You motioned for him to take a seat at one of the tables with a smile. “Well, Mr. Talbot, you have a muffin preference?”

“Just Riley is fine, and you don’t have to⏤”

“Either you tell me your muffin preference or I’m gonna pick at random, Riley.” You replied then ran through the options you had today. Riley hesitantly told you his preference for the banana nut option and you brought it over for him on a small plate. The man took his sunglasses off, tucking them into his inner suit pocket, and you took note of his very blue eyes. “How long have you worked for, Joel?”

Riley shrugged. “I’ve been working for Mr. Miller for the last five years.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. Five years as a driver for Joel? You couldn’t imagine Joel using a driver. The man who preferred flannels over suits seemed like the kind who was adamant about driving himself. Plus, this wasn’t the person who had picked you up yesterday. How many did he have?

“Well, give me a second here and we can head out. I just gotta finish packing up today’s leftovers.”

“Please, take your time.” Riley nodded then motioned to the muffin. “And thank you.”

You left him to enjoy his snack in peace so you could go back to cleaning out the display stand. It was repetitive, simple work that you had gotten very used to doing mindlessly over the years. You were on the last row of cookies when your phone buzzed in your back pocket. Pulling it out you saw it was a text from Joel.

‘Did Riley show up?’

‘Yupp. He’s in the bakery eating a muffin right now.’

‘You didn’t need to feed him, sugar.’

‘Too late. Besides, that’s one less muffin for me to carry now.’

‘Put it on my tab.’

You rolled your eyes, as if a singular banana nut muffin was of significant cost, ‘Shouldn’t you be focusing on your meeting?’

There was a longer pause before you got a response.

‘Touche’

You chuckled under your breath and tucked the phone away once more. After stacking a few of the boxes on top of one another, you shrugged out of your apron to hang it back up on the wall. Riley had risen from his seat and you took the plate from him before he could argue otherwise. You gave it a quick wash before setting it away to dry for the night and when you returned Riley was still standing by the boxes of baked goods.

“I’m almost done. I’m gonna carry these down to the shelter.”

“I’ll help.” Riley replied.

“You don’t have to do that⏤”

Riley gave you a friendly smile. “It’s my pleasure. Mr. Miller was adamant about me helping out where I could.”

Knowing arguing was only going to stretch this process out you nodded and he took half the boxes. At least this would save you a second trip. As the two of you made your way down the street you learned that he was older than you, in his mid thirties, and he had been in the Marines before picking up work with Joel. It was actually through Riley that you learned Joel had a brother who had also been in the military as well. You’d have to ask him about that.

“I’ve been saving to buy a ring.” Riley shrugged as you both got onto the topic of relationships while on your way back from dropping off the boxes.

“If your girlfriend is as sweet as you claim I’m sure she’d be charmed by anything you got her.” You argued. “And how long have the two of you been dating?”

“Three years next month.”

“Aw, congrats!” You chirped.

Riley continued to gush about his girlfriend and how she worked as a kindergarten teacher. The way his voice held so much love for the woman he bragged about to you made your heart ache. You had always thought this was how your last relationship would look like. You and your ex-boyfriend had been on a similar path after all. When he broke up with you six months ago, the two of you had been weeks away from your three year anniversary. For the longest time, he had been the one you thought you’d be marrying.

And here you were today with a sugar daddy on speed dial.

Funny how life worked.

“Let me grab my stuff and lock up and I’ll be right back out.” You said and Riley agreed with a nod before heading to the SUV himself. Maybe you’d text Nima and see if she was busy tonight. It had been a long time since you thought about your ex and letting him slip back into your head had been a dumb move on your part.

Once out, Riley held the back door of the SUV open for you to slide into. He asked for your address which you provided before settling back in your seat. The radio played a soft tune, you couldn’t hear the roaring of the roads outside, the air smelled clean, and you had ample space to stretch out. This was a far cry from the bus. Nima texted you back, answering your request for drinks tonight, but she had to turn it down because she had a date. Though she did follow it up to ask if you were feeling well and that she’d bail if you needed a girls’ night. You smiled at her words, but reassured her that everything was fine.

‘Hang out with your daddy! 🤪’

Despite the teasing nature of her text, she may have been onto something. Riley was getting closer to your apartment complex and you leaned forward a bit. “Hey, Riley?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you know what time Joel usually gets off of work?”

“It depends. I think he mentioned today he was gonna be working late. That’s why he sent me instead of coming to get you himself.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. It hadn’t dawned on you that Joel wanted to be the one to pick you up and just hadn’t been able to due to his own work. Still, that shot your back up plan in the face. That was probably for the best. You didn’t want to come across as clingy. Though, maybe you were supposed to? Joel said there was no social quota for you to meet, but you doubted the validity of that.

“Thanks, Riley!” You said after exchanging numbers with him and climbing out of the SUV.

Your apartment was nothing to write home about, but it could be worse. It was a simple one bed, one bath on the fifth floor of a complex that had technically seen better days. However, despite the age and general weariness of the building itself, the residents you lived beside were nice, the owner actually cared about the people renting from him, and security was decent. More so than the other places in this area.

After dropping your stuff down and tossing your keys into the bowl near your front door, you pulled out your phone to see you had missed a text from a few minutes ago. ‘You home?’ Quickly, you responded with a positive and thanked him again for sending Riley to pick you up. ‘Good. Don’t thank me, sugar’.

You rolled your eyes. If he really thought you were going to accept things without thanking him he was dead wrong. Hell, you were struggling with the ‘accepting things’ part which was hilarious considering you had chosen and agreed to this deal with full knowledge of what that meant. You set down your phone to clean the work day off of your skin.

A few hours had passed, where you showered, changed into home clothes, ate, and then settled on the couch with a large glass of wine. Despite it only being close to nine you were almost considering chugging the remainder of the wine in your glass and calling it a night. You had work in the morning after all. As you brought the glass to your lips, your phone buzzed off to the side.

The text was from Joel. It was simple, and honestly hilarious to see.

‘You up?’

Your cheeks warmed and you wondered if he knew the connotations of texting a woman that message with no warning at night.

‘Yes lol I am up’

‘Can I call?’

Your eyes widened in surprise at the request. You took another rather large sip of your wine before setting it down on your coffee table and responding to him. The affirmative text hadn’t been sent longer than a few seconds when his name flashed across your screen. You had gotten used to mostly texting the people in your life rather than phone calls. This would take some getting used to.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sugar.” Joel breathed. “Sorry for calling late.”

“It’s hardly late.” You glanced at your clock on the wall. 9:07. “Are you just getting home from work? Riley said you’d be stuck there late.”

“Yeah. Unfortunately. Every once in a while I’m stuck in the office all day like this. At least I got to be on site this mornin’.” He groaned.

It sounded like he was pouring something on his end of the line. You commented on it, “Are you making yourself a drink?”

“Mhmm.” Joel took a sip of whatever it was he had poured, you could hear him swallow and made your throat dry up. “That alright?”

“Hey, I’m on my second glass of wine so I can hardly judge.”

“Second? You have a long day, sugar?” He asked in concern. Again, the sound of it caught you off guard. You could count on one hand the number of people who showed you genuine concern in the last two years. “Everythin’ okay?”

You forced out a chuckle and nodded despite him not being able to see it. “I’m fine.” It was probably a little early to be flooding him with your problems and the history of your ex. Instead, you jumped over it entirely. “I was actually gonna ask if you wanted to get dinner or drinks, but when I asked Riley what time you got off he said you’d be working late.”

“What?” Joel asked in surprise. He grumbled under his breath before speaking up. “Don’t ever let that stop you, darlin’. I always got time for you. Honestly, it would've been a nice surprise and a good excuse to leave early.”

You let out a soft laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

“You better.” Joel grunted as he dropped down into a seat. Another tired sigh left his lips and you opened your mouth to suggest that he get some rest, but he beat you to speaking. “Tell me about your day, sugar.”

“It was pretty boring.” You replied. “You’ve seen how empty the bakery tends to get.”

“So? I still wanna hear. Talk about somethin’ at least. Lemme hear that pretty voice.”

You grinned to yourself. “You think my voice is pretty?”

“I think everythin’ about you is pretty. Now, no more stallin’. Hit me with it.”

If he wanted to hear about your boring day you’d be more than happy to indulge him. His words still caught you off guard though. He liked your voice? It was extra funny considering how much you liked his voice personally. You talked about the few customers you did have today, how thankful the shelter had been for Henry’s leftovers, and getting to know Riley.

“Yeah, Riley is a good guy.” Joel agreed. “Figured the two of you would get along. Plus,” He took another sip of the whiskey he had told you he chose as his drink earlier, “I know he’s head over heels for that girl of his so I didn’ have to worry about him makin’ a move on you.” You laughed at the sentiment and Joel let out a small chuckle himself. “I ain’t kiddin’, sugar. I only just got you to agree to put up with me. I ain’t plannin’ on losing you quite yet.”

“Put up with you.” You scoffed. “As if I don’t equally enjoy talking to you.”

Joel chuckled in response then cleared his throat. “How’d it go with your boss? How’d he take the news?” Your smile turned sheepish and rather than answer you picked up your wine glass, now at the end of your third, and took a long sip. Joel sighed. “Sugar?”

“Okay, so, hold on.” You blurted. “He was sick today. Henry left like right after coming in to help me open and I didn’t wanna spring the news on him when he already felt so terrible.” You set the wine glass down then buried yourself into the couch under your blanket. “I’m already worried I’m gonna break his heart.” Joel blew out a sigh and you winced. “Sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t.” Joel responded, but it wasn’t sharp or demanding. He just didn’t want to hear you apologize. “I want you to stop workin’ because I think you’d be happier out of that place, but I’m not tryin’ to shove you into quittin’ if you ain’t comfortable with it yet, darlin’. If…” Joel paused. “If you think you need to stay there a little while longer then I’m not gonna guilt you otherwise.”

His words made your lips curl up into a small, soft smile. It wasn’t that you loved your work there by any means, but you did love Henry. He was family. Plus, that small voice of anxiety was still nagging loud enough that you couldn’t quite fully ignore it. This was still so new. What if Joel got to the end of this week and decided you were more annoying than entertaining. You couldn’t just tear up your roots with no guarantee that this life was fully concrete.

You didn’t know if Joel understood that from the same angle you did, but you did appreciate that he was willing to bend on that topic. “Yeah.” You said quietly then added in a teasing inflection added, “Thanks, daddy.”

Joel chuckled in response, “You’re gonna be the death of me, sugar.”

You remembered a topic you had planned on asking him earlier in the day, and maybe it was the three glasses of wine that had loosened your tongue, but you blurted it out without thinking. “So, hey, I hear you have a brother?” Joel was quiet for a beat and it was only then that sober logic regained control. “I mean, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to blurt it out like that. Riley mentioned he was in the military and that you had a brother who was too. I didn't mean to pick at a sore topic if⏤”

“No, sugar.” Joel chuckled. “Not a sore topic. Just caught me off guard is all. But, yeah, I got a baby brother. Tommy.” Tommy Miller. You tucked the information away in the folder of facts you were learning about Joel. “He was in the Army for a while, but left a long time ago. He actually works with me now at the company. Was with me when we went from small time contractors to whatever the hell we are now.”

“Big deals.” You joked. “If your fancy building is anything to go by.”

“Guess so by someone’s definition.” Joel snorted. You liked that he still felt so grounded and to the earth. It had been part of the reason his proposition caught you off guard because after meeting him you never would’ve suspected him to be the kind who owned a large and very rich company.

“You’re not mad that Riley told me that, are you?” You asked. “Because if you are, I'll admit to wrestling the information out of him.”

Joel laughed. “I ain’t mad, darlin’. Like I said, I’m glad the two of you get along. You’re stuck with him now.” You hummed in confusion and Joel added. “He’s your driver. Anywhere you need to go, any time, just call him.”

“Wait, seriously?” You cried.

“I told you I ain’t letting you get on a bus again.” Joel replied like he was still appalled you had done so this morning. “And since you won’t let me buy you a car…”

“Fine, fine, fine.” You blurted and he let out a soft laugh. A beat of silence stretched between the two of you, but it was a comfortable one. The kind where you just enjoyed knowing he was on the other end of the call even if he wasn’t actively speaking.

You accidentally let out a small yawn and Joel hummed. “You need to get to bed.”

“Nuh uh.” You replied. “It’s only…” You found the clock and your eyes widened. 12:01. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. I’ve kept you up long enough, sugar.”

“I’m not even tired.” You whined and rose to your feet. The stiff movements made you realize how close you had been to just passing out on the couch.

“Sure, you ain’t.”

You meandered to your bedroom, flipping out lights as you went, and shut your bedroom door. “Will we talk again tomorrow?”

“You mean later today?” Joel joked.

You chuckled. “Yes.” It didn’t even matter to you that you may have sounded needy. Being on the phone had not only been fun, but it had been just what you needed to settle the turmoil you had accidentally scourged up earlier. “So?”

“Course, sugar. I’ll text you on your way to work. Riley’ll be there at 6:30 to pick you up.”

“Alright. Night, Joel.” You replied sincerely. “Thanks for talking to me.”

Joel hummed and you could hear him moving around on his end as well. “Should be thanking you.” He added quickly, a tinge or nervousness seeping into his voice. “Hey, do you wanna, uh, you wanna plan for dinner?” Your eyes widened marginally but your lips spread out into another warm and wide grin. “I got a few more busy days, but this Wednesday I’ll be free all evening. Wanna make a night of it?”

“Yes!” You answered much faster than you had initially planned. There went being cool and collected. Joel chuckled. “I mean, yeah. That would be⏤ That would be fun.”

“Good. Get some sleep, sugar.” Joel replied. You wished him well before the call ended and you were left standing in your bedroom feeling like you were on cloud nine.

taglist:

@weddingfairy @bfences @jasminedragon @biwitchy @huffle-punk @shelbyteller @anoverwhelmingdin @aheadfullofsteverogers @stagerightlauren @basicoccult @rinnfey @boofy1998 @farintonorth @thepascalofus @amatis-gray @casa-boiardi @northernbluess @jettia

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✨J.M. Masterlist✨

#the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #modern au #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #sugar daddy!joel miller #reader insert #female reader

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toournextadventure · 2 years ago

Note

is it possible for a Wednesday x Reader where Reader is afraid to confess and chose to be a supportive friend and one day Morticia notices Reader's stare reader give at Wednesday and gives advice to Reader? love your works :)

Listen, I'm down bad for Morticia, no questions asked 😌

give it a chance

Wednesday looked absolutely beautiful sitting there across the table. All she was doing was drinking her coffee and reading her book, but all you were doing was staring at her. Look at me, your heart begged. Notice me. But you said nothing, just sat there and drank your own coffee and looked back down at your own textbook.

You had wanted Wednesday’s attention for months, since you had first met her. Sure, you fell for her too fast, it had clearly been an infatuation at first. But now that you got to spend time with her, and talk to her, and just be with her? Your infatuation was justified, no doubt about it.

Though, as you sat there, you knew you would never say a thing to her. There would never be some big admission, no profession of your love. She had shown no interest, and you weren’t going to push her into something she clearly didn’t want. So you would be her friend, and you would spend time with her and help her with whatever mystery she found next.

It was not enough. But for her, you would learn to make do.

Morticia watched your internal monologue unfold from across the cafe. She had promised Wednesday she wouldn't interfere while you were both studying, and she was making good on it. But the looks you were giving her daughter weren't the looks of strictly a study buddy.

You looked at Wednesday as if she had hung the moon in the sky each night. A look that Gomez often gave her when he thought she wasn't looking. Sure, you were young, but that had never stopped them. Nothing was more pure than young love.

Morticia bade her time until you both parted ways. She heard Wednesday tell you she would meet you later before leaving, but you stayed at the table. A troubled frown found its home on your lips as you threw your head back against the seat. Now was her chance.

She sat down opposite you, right where Wednesday had been sitting. The seat was still cold, she thought to herself with a small smile. You didn’t seem entirely surprised to see her; perhaps Wednesday had warned you she was in town. It didn’t bring a smile to your face, though, and that just gave Morticia that extra little push to say what she needed to say.

“Darling, only love should give you such a long face,” Morticia told you. “Is it Wednesday?”

“She makes me feel like I’m dying,” you said with a sigh.

“Is it not the best feeling?” She took a sip of her coffee; it was lukewarm and bitter. Perfect.

“No,” you groaned before you let your head fall to the table with a loud *thud.* It certainly drew the attention of all the other patrons. My my, Morticia thought, certainly one for the dramatics. I approve. “It sucks.”

“Have you told Wednesday how you feel?”

“No,” you mumbled against the table. “She’s not interested.”

“Well, have you asked her?”

Morticia watched you with a barely hidden smile as you sat up slowly. A bashful look crossed your face and you refused to look at her, giving her more satisfaction than it should have. She understood what her daughter saw in you if this was your usual temperament.

“No,” you admitted softly.

“Wednesday does not associate with just anyone,” Morticia told you. “You have a greater chance than you believe.”

“What if she says no?” You asked.

“What if she says yes?” Morticia countered.

You sighed and looked out of the large windows. In return, Morticia let you. Sometimes she forgot how big things could feel when you were young. While obvious to her, they weren’t always obvious to you teenagers, especially when it came to your feelings of love.

But if she could be the one to help you come to terms with those feelings and act on them, well. Wouldn’t that just be grand? After all, she certainly approved if you wanted to try for Wednesday’s affections.

“Okay.” You turned your head back to look at Morticia with a renewed determination. “I’ll shoot my shot.”

“Good luck,” Morticia told you with a smile when you stood up. You returned it and oh, what a beautiful smile.

She was going to enjoy seeing you around more often.

#requests #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine

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jellycrusher · 11 months ago

Text

Wolves and Lambs: Part 4

Alpha Max Verstappen x Omega fem!driver

Genre: Series, Omega verse, Enemies to Lovers, Romance, Eventual smut

Summary: Male Alphas are the ones who dominate motor sports all around the world, especially Formula 1. It is a well known fact. Females in general nor Female Omegas are never heard nor encouraged to join the sport since the 1950s. Well, up until now...

Word Count: 5.8k

Chapter's Premise: y/n finds herself trying to come to terms on who she is and how she avoided her heat for so long.

Parts: W&L masterlist / general masterlist

"You heard the doctor. You have to stop taking your suppressants for a while." Megan takes the prescription sheet from your hands and shoves it in her bag.

Both of you just came out from the doctor's office. Megan was meticulous in giving you a disguise just in case anyone is going to spot you. You put your head down and hide in your little canopy of protection, your Aston Martin hat. A bit obvious but it's the only one you have at the moment.

"I can't. If it comes during a race weekend, I'm dead." You reply as you walk side by side with Megan, confined by the hospital walls.

"Ay Dios Mio. Your constant intake of suppressants may be the reason why you haven't had your first heat yet at 25 years old. We don't know if there's gonna be negative side effects on your health." Megan tries her best to whisper under her breath.

"Hey, that's not proven." You halt in your steps and turn to her, lifting your head up to face her.

"But the doc says it may be a factor. You can't keep it hidden forever. It has to come sooner or later. If it comes biting your ass, don't come running to me for help."

"I don't want to be confined on what biology or society dictates me to be. I want to prove to everyone first what I can do and who I am." You continue to walk.

"I understand. I just don't want something bad to happen to you." She groaned.

"Fine. If I win a race, then i'll start tapering my dosage. I'll let it come when it wants to come."

"When you win a podium, not a race. Better odds."

"Fine. A podium."

You felt like you've been basking in the sun, warm against your skin. You didn't want to look at yourself. For every second after that encounter in the elevator until now that you've stayed frozen behind the door of your room, everything was silent.

Your body was fighting your mind. You didn't want this. For so many years, your family and friends, who knew what you really are, told you that we're all bound to meet our mate. We'll know when we meet them.

No. You don't want to. Maybe just not right now. Yes, it's romantic to see couples who are mated and are having the time of their lives. But what if they fell for another person before they met their mate? And what if they refuse their Alpha? What would happen?

Right now, you just want to succeed in this career first. Call yourself stupid for going against your biological desires but there's a lot riding on this. Your parents sacrificed a lot just to get where you are right now. You want to prove that Omegas can also achieve greatness. Female Omegas can also stand in the halls of the greats.

Maybe you're just stubborn. Meeting your mate wouldn't be the end of the world. If you give in, you won't lose anything. Maybe.

Maybe you're just overthinking. Maybe you're being too stubborn.

Max is not a bad person. You've said it yourself before. He is actually a decent guy. Well, just from your text messages but there were no deep conversations yet. You don't love him to see him as your mate. You might learn to love him but it doesn't feel right for your feelings to be swayed just because your biological desires him so.

You barely slept a wink last night. The inkling that bothered you for a few weeks now since the first race have just been confirmed, and the fact that Max left you a lot of messages that you haven't read yet made your mind in a state of disarray.

Megan barged in your room to wake you up. She even had to throw the covers off the bed and furiously opened the curtains, blinding you with the beaming sun. You groan hard as she pulls you out of the comfort of your bed.

"I can't believe this. We're late! Ay Santo Dios..." Megan continued to mention a lot of words that you were not familiar with as she looks at your commitments for the day from her phone screen.

It only took a few moments and the both of you are now on your merry way to the circuit with you being the driver. Megan was still very furious at you for you haven't given her a reason for your tardiness. At the same time, your phone was still blowing up from Max's messages.

"I've had it with your ringtone. I'll set it to silent." Megan pulls your phone from the center console and sees '50 messages' beside the name 'He Who Must Be Avoided At All Times' on the screen.

"It's fine, leave it." You're barely able to look at Megan because you had to focus on the road.

"Who's this? Is there a guy bothering you? Stalking you?!" she asks.

"No. Just leave it." With eyes still glued to the road, you try to yank the phone off her hands.

"Tell me. Is it a stalker?! 'Cause if it is, i'll kill him." She warned.

"Please no. Relax, it's not a stalker." You assured in a calm tone as she hands the phone to you.

"Y/N. If you're in a dangerous situation and you're not telling me, your mom will kill me." She appealed.

Well, that's not impossible. These two are overprotective.

"Megan..." You paused. Megan patiently waits for your answer as you drum your fingers anxiously on the wheel. "It's Max."

"Oh, Max... Wait, who's Max? from Red Bull?" Megan rambles. "Why? Did he do anything to you?"

"He did nothing. It's just.. He found out last night that I was an Omega. I've been avoiding his texts since then." You confessed, tightening your grip on the wheel.

"How? You were always careful."

"That's the thing. I was. I'm still on my suppressants." You gently scratch the surface of the wheel. "Remember when you told me how you met your husband? Your mate?"

"Yes." Megan now replied slowly, now under a notion at where the conversation is going. "Oh my god! Is he..?"

"I think so." you confessed.

Megan was about to shriek from joy but she stopped for she knew how you would respond. For her, it sounds romantic. For you, it's not. She can't count how many times your rejected the idea of having a biological mate. It wasn't against the law of anybody to love somebody else aside your fated mate but for your body to act against your will regardless of what you feel. That's what you dislike about it.

"I still have to talk to him about it. I can't have him blabbering to everyone on the grid." You added. "Let's take this one step at a time."

"You still have a race later. Better focus on that first." She replies as she takes off her seatbelt when you arrived at the car park in the circuit.

Megan hauled you to the team hospitality to prepare you for the drivers' briefing. When you arrived at the briefing hall, majority of the drivers were already seated and the team principals were standing around in a circle, chatting. You stood by the door looking for an empty seat to take when you saw Charles, Oscar, and Lando calling you to take the seat they reserved for you on the third row. Your feet took a few steps when a hand suddenly but gently caught your wrist.

"We need to talk. You've been ignoring my texts." Max urged, eyes dead straight at you.

"Max, not here. Later." You scan the room for any eyes or ears that might eavesdrop as you carefully remove his hand from you.

Max takes a second to compose himself then tugs his hand through his hair. "Fine. Sit with me then."

"I'll choose my own seat. Thank you." You replied as you walk away from him, not giving him enough time to add more. Max's hand hovered uncertainly as if to stop you but he lets his hand limp

You strut farther into the hall and the three men gave you space to stride along the third row to take your seat between Charles and Oscar. Max took an empty seat on the first row beside Checo. He can't help but steal some glances in your direction during the driver's briefing.

It was hard to ignore Max as well. One good thing that your incident with Max has caused is that his scent doesn't make you cower in fear anymore. Knowing the reason why the dynamics between the two of you had changed, you mentally slap your pheromone-disturbed self from inhaling his lingering scent.

His scent wasn't really distinct before. For you, it was associated with fear or something menacing, but now he smelled so crisp like Cotton and sweet like baked Tangerine. Being that close to each other gave you a chance to actually distinguish his scent. Just remembering Max's small sniffs on your neck makes your body squirm, in a good way. It was nice and comforting. But it also felt sensual.

Alpha smells so good. Let's smell him once more. You mentally slap yourself once more, shaking off the tiny voice from your inner Omega in your head.

"I heard from Lance that you're moving. Where will you stay?" Charles' voice took you out from your trance just as the drivers' briefing just ended.

"In Monaco. It being a tax-free haven sounds enticing." you replied in glee knowing that it was the Monegasque who asked you.

Noticing the other younger drivers to turn to you after hearing your response, it took a moment for you to remember that a number of them were living there.

Lando perks up, legs bouncing. He leans forward and peeked his head across Oscar. "Do you know how to play Padel?" you shake your head. "We'll teach you. We had been waiting for another member to join our little club."

"He just wants to have the bragging right when he defeats all of us." Oscar chuckled, arms crossed on his chest.

"He even almost made Max cry. Have some mercy on all of us, will you?" Charles adds, further teasing Lando.

"I'll tell you when I've settled in. Maybe a housewarming lunch or dinner sounds good?" You ask. Lando quickly taps Alex's shoulder to tell him about your new residence and a possibility of a new member for their F1 drivers-exclusive Padel Club.

"I'm going to tour you to some of the best places. You still owe me a car ride." Charles couldn't help but smile at you, already making up a list in his mind.

When the briefing ended, all of the drivers went their own way back to their hospitalities. At the corner of your eyes, you saw Max hurriedly stood up from his seat on the first row and was about to make his way towards you. He noticed the miniscule squirm your body did when your eyes met. You almost panic in your seat but he came to an abrupt stop when he saw Megan pull you away.

Max tried his best to look for a chance to talk to you, much to his dismay. There wasn't much time for each of the drivers to get to interact with each other, especially during race day. After some of his media commitments in the morning were done, he went to visit the Aston Martin hospitality. He comes up to the small ledge when he saw Lance chatting with some of the staff.

"Hey Lance." Lance gets up from his seat when he noticed Max and greets him with a one-armed hug and a double backslap. "Have you seen y/n?"

"I think Sky Sports has her for an interview, I think. You know, the usual." Lance replies as he sits down. Max groans go unnoticed.

"Do you know when she might be free? I need to talk to her." Max asks as he leans his hand on the ledge.

"Maybe after the race? Her schedule's so full today. Haven't even seen her stay here in the hospitality for more than 15 minutes. Megan even got her shooting a lot of content for our Tiktok account."

"Megan?" Max quirks up his eyebrow.

"Speaking of..." Lance chimed in as he spots Megan behind Max, about to walk inside. "Megan!" She stops and turns to Lance's direction. "He's looking for y/n." He points at Max and Megan's eyes follow.

Megan thought differently when she saw Max right there, comfortably leaning on the ledge. It was in her overprotective instinct to assume that Max might possibly be a snitch or asking anyone in the team regarding what you are. She walks up to Max and asked him to come with her, already walking away without waiting for a response. Max was confused at first but did not hesitate to follow behind.

Max and Megan comes to a halt in an empty corner in the paddock, away from prying eyes.

"What are you doing?" Megan snaps around and narrows her eyes at him, arms crossed on her chest.

"I was just asking for y/n." Max innocently confessed.

"Were you going to tell on her? I can't believe you." She leans forward as if interrogating the driver.

Max leans back, baffled by the sudden change in demeanor. "No. Of course not... Wait, you know?" He tries to whisper.

She tries to examine his face for a minute for any sign of a lie but relaxes when she felt that he was telling the truth. "Listen, Max. I know she's been avoiding you but I need her to be at her best today. She needs to be on that podium."

"Don't we all?" Max scoffs.

"No, you don't understand. I need her to be on the podium because her health is on the line. I've let her be stubborn for too long 'cause she's in love with racing too much but I finally had her to agree, at last. I don't know what's going on between the two of you but please don't distract her too much today." She pleads with a serious tone.

Max hated knowing that it wasn't his place to pry. All he wanted from you was answers but it seems that even more questions are piling up. What does she mean? Your health is on the line? Are you sick? Are you injured? How is it connected to you getting that podium?

His inner Alpha was trying to fight himself.

Our omega... She's hurt or sick. Ask for more information. No, we're clearly told to stay put. She's not ours. Isn't it clear that she's avoiding us? Than ask her directly. Let's smell her again. No. Just shut up. Stay.

"Understood?" Megan asserts herself, taking Max out of his trance.

"Yes ma'am."

Megan waited for a bit to see how Max would take their conversation but left quickly when she saw that people are now starting to crowd the paddock. Max stayed in that quiet corner for a few seconds before going out into the paddock. There he saw you, sitting just outside your team's hospitality with Alonso and surrounded by a few cameras and staff. Probably completing a challenge with your teammate. His eyes locked onto you, taking in your smile. It was invigorating for him to see you having fun.

He used to feel so foreign around you. When he sees you having fun with his friends, it irritated him. His face used to turn sour when Lando or Alex hype you up.

There was something about you that intrigues him. You weren't able to race with most of them back then. Charles was a bit familiar with you because you got to race alongside his brother. Oscar and Logan had only met you once or twice and they had raced with you in a few Grand Prix but usually a lot of drivers keep to themselves and stayed in their own garages.

Then there's the big elephant in the room. You were an Omega, no doubt. After the incident in the elevator, he did scour the internet after his haze faded when he got back in his room. There were only articles about you stating that you were an Alpha, your achievements in F2 and F3, and also the highlights of your racing career. No scandals, not much haters. There were no articles claiming you have a bad beef with any driver.

For a public personality, you kept pretty quiet. Maybe that's why no one has discovered your secret yet. But that would be an extreme feat. To conceal your identity. What about heats? The horrendous and taxing schedule of Formula 1 isn't really ideal for Omegas. He recalled when Lando had to deal with Oscar's heat every month. When they were still unmated, Lando had to tiptoe around Oscar and avoid him when his pheromones were on the highest setting. How the other drivers reacted to him when it came around race weekend. It took them at least 5 months to come to the truth that they needed each other.

It was a bit easier for Oscar because everyone knows that he is an Omega since the start. They knew they had to avoid him when Lando or Oscar gave them a heads up. It scares him thinking that it will be much harder for you but it was also amazing how good you hide it.

Questions for another day, he admits to himself.

You were having a blast going against Nando in a PR competition when you spot Max walking through the paddock. Your eyes met and it made you nervous that he might come up and wait for you but no, he avoided your eyes and continued to walk. Your eyes followed his figure, relieved but also worried. Fernando had to call your attention to continue the challenge.

Your PR and media commitments were finally done and then, there was the driver's parade. The crowds in the grandstands were almost full and it was deafening. Everyone was screaming each of the drivers' names when they were called and when it was your turn to be introduced, it was heartwarming to hear their warm welcome. A smile so wide painted your face as you greet the driver while stepping in the convertible car and sat on the surface of the rear end near the deck lid.

You waited for your car's cue to go but you see it got delayed. There were a slight commotion amongst the staff that were on standby on the track and they were pointing to something behind you. You turn around and they were checking the car behind yours that was supposed to be for Max. Apparently, the engine of his parade car won't start again.

Fernando's car already left way before you and also Checo's. The staff are now pointing at yours and you see that the people who were talking to Max assisted him to get off the car. They were ushering him to your direction. Someone slapped Max's car number onto the side of your convertible. You now realize that they're letting you and Max share a car so that this problem won't delay the program.

The car shook slightly as Max climbs up the convertible. Max sees you scooting to one side trying to avoid his eyes so he quietly sat down on the other side of the convertible's rear. Both of you started to wave to the crowd as the engine of the convertible purred. Max would steal a few glances when you're not looking. Your body was stiff and awkward, in contrast to what you were showing the crowd, smiling and waving.

"Relax. It's not like I bite." Max spoke up just loud enough for you to hear under all those noise. "Just concentrate on the race later or else, you'll be an easy target for these guys."

You snap your head around and glared at him. He had this smug smile while still waving. "They wish." You scoff.

With just a few words from him, you find your shoulders loosening up. Slightly offended by his insinuation but you knew that he was just riling you up. It was also surprising that Max didn't bother to disturb you since the briefing. You would be at shoulder's length but still, he'd just nod when your eyes met.

The drivers' parade ended quickly and every driver headed for their respective garages to prepare. You spent the remaining time training with your physio and getting enough rest. The last program was for the national anthem. You make your way onto the track and answered a few questions for a Sky Sports presenter who was roaming and interviewing some of the drivers. You stood behind a grid kid to take your place and kept quiet. Right before the anthem was played, you noticed the female grid kid trying to steal a look at you. You smile back at her and she quietly squealed as she swiftly face in front. When the anthem finished playing and as you follow the other drivers exiting the track, your grid kid raised her hand to request for a high five. You gladly pressed your palm on hers and the other grid kids also eagerly raised their hand as you pass by them, catching the attention of the other drivers and the cameras.

You find yourself gritting your teeth and hands clenching the wheel as you drive the car in your grid position at the track during the formation lap. You look up at the red lights above.

"It's lights out and away we go, here at the Jeddah Corniche Circuit! and it's Max Verstappen who takes the lead of the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix."

With a good reaction time, you were able to overtake three places from 15th. You were able to fend for your position well in those crucial first few laps of the race. You attacked, you defended, you attacked, you defended. It was a constant cycle.

Max, who had started in pole position, lost the lead to Charles on the third sector in the second lap, won it back by the fourth lap and slowly and methodically pulled away for his second win of the season.

It took you only eight laps to move into 10th place, and only eight more to rise to sixth. By the halfway point of the race, and helped by the fortuitous arrival of a safety car that allowed you to make up even more ground, you find yourself in fourth.

"Y/n had played down her chances of victory from the moment a broken drive shaft ended her qualifying early Saturday and left her in 15th place. But that did not mean she had any intention of staying in the back of the field. Look at her picking her way through the pack behind her with ease"

Your driving style was aggressive and clever, a total beast on the offence. The journalists have also made note of your tyre preservation prowess. They have published a few articles after the first race mentioning that with your pairing with Alonso this year, Aston Martin can gain considerable confidence that it will be regularly able to take on the red cars and the black ones fielded by Mercedes too.

At around lap 46, Ben informs you through the radio that Lewis who is in P3 at the moment incurred a 5 second penalty. With Charles on P2 just 2 seconds ahead of Lewis and you tailing behind just a second away, there might be a chance for you to end up on the podium at the end of this race. You just have to maintain the gap behind Lewis and also for Lewis to continue battling with Charles.

Ben: "So, one more lap y/n, just bring it home." Y/N: "Think something happened to my left tyre." Ben: "Ok, copy. So Sainz, 30 seconds behind, battling with Russell."

You peek at your front left tyre and it was starting to wobble. You may have hit something on the track, possibly puncturing the tyre.

Ben: "If you go Diff-Mid 12, Sainz 20 seconds and gap to Lewis is 2 seconds." Ben: "Now 17 seconds. Now 16 seconds."

The car was already slowing down and the left tyre was tumbling around on its rim. Ben was constantly updating you but you did not bother to respond.

Ben: "So use Strat 5. 10 seconds to Sainz and 3 seconds from Lewis." Ben: "7 seconds to Sainz. 6 seconds to Sainz." Ben: "Maintain this gap to Lewis. 4 seconds."

You've passed the last corner and about to go on the straight where the chequered flag should be when you saw Sainz closely tailing behind you. With your feet instinctively pushing flat out, your car zoomed past and hopefully closing the gap with Lewis in less than 5 seconds for P3 position.

Y/N: "Do we have it?! TELL ME BEN, DO WE HAVE IT??" Ben: "That's it, y/n! You've done it, P3! YOU'VE DONE IT! Wow, you've done it y/n." Y/N: "Was there a flag? I did not see it." Ben: "There was a flag. You've done it though. Just stop. You can pull the car over. We'll come and get you." Y/N: "Fuck that was close! Sorry for the profanity." Ben: "Yeah, I was about to say the same thing. That was a close call. Too close for comfort. But awesome work, mate." Y/N: "LET'S GO!!!!! BEN, WE DID IT!!!"

Your team radio is now being broadcasted across all tv screens worldwide. As Max and the other drivers complete their slow lap around the track after they've crossed the line, they catch a glimpse of you in the screens. Throwing your hands in celebration, still inside the cockpit. When you got out of the car at the side of the track, you knelt down and pats the damaged tyre aggressively as if thanking the car.

You had to do your best as not to cry from overwhelming joy. You felt like you won the race for P3 but you didn't. It was as if you were soaring through the clouds right then. The crowds at the grandstands were screaming your name, fireworks were setting off in the background. That was for Max, of course, but it couldn't hurt to imagine that it could be for you too.

You were picked up by a safety car and your car was towed to the parc ferme. When you got out of the car, Oscar jumped at the moment to wrap you in a hug, Lando following behind.

Warm and sincere congratulations, pats on the backs and helmet taps too, were sent over your way when you threw yourself to your team of mechanics and engineers who were waiting on the other side of the barricade. You took off your helmet and balaclava so you could properly breathe and to revel in the sounds of your victory.

You were the first one who had to do the post-race interview, followed by Charles in P2 and Max in P1. You couldn't contain your smile, choking on your words yet again.

"Y/n!" David Coulthard calls out your name in joy. "That was an amazing race. You had your maiden pole last race and now, your maiden F1 podium after just 2 races in this season. Could you tell me more?"

"With the information of Lewis' 5 second penalty, I had to give everything on the table. I've never had a race like that before. We tried to maintain the gap but also had to monitor Carlos behind as well. It was a team effort and I couldn't have done it without them."

"Your last lap had us trembling in our seats. You managed to bring home your car across the line in that state. How did you do it?" David asked with such enthusiasm.

"I don't know how I've managed to be cool in that period but I just... I had no choice. Survival instincts came over me and I've come all this way. I'm not gonna pull over and back off to let anyone drive pass. I was thinking 'How can I get there with taking as much risks as possible without losing the car altogether?'. I still can't believe I did it." You try to take a few deep breaths after you finished your interview, still reeling in from that feeling of accomplishment.

Max and Charles pats your back as the three of you walked towards the cooldown room. The huge screen showing the highlights of the race, including your tyre mishap and struggle to cross the finish line for P3. Charles hands you a water bottle and you took it, not peeling your eyes away from the screen. If you only had your phone, you would take a photo of the small pillar with a huge number 3 and a small screen playing your driver intro bit.

The three of you are now ushered to prepare for the podium ceremony. Your feet was quick to move after your name was called. The crowd roared with applause and cheers as you made your way up the podium. You stood patiently on your step as you hear Charles' and Max's name. Despite feeling a bit flushed due to the adrenaline from winning P3, your cheeks felt a bit cold as you place your hands on the side of your face.

Your race suit now wet from the champagne being sprayed amongst the podium placers. Charles and Max were having fun targeting you, spraying the champagne at your face. They both admired your blissful smile and eyes filled with euphoria.

"Champagne suits you. Congratulations y/n!" Max can't help but admit to himself that you were an excellent racer. Your expression softened when you heard him and it's like Max's heart skipped a beat.

"Thanks Max. Congratulations on winning!" As if the champagne rain slowed down, it was just you and Max. The stage lights made the champagne sparkle, trickling down on both of you. He never saw anyone be so ecstatic in getting P3 but you made celebrating look so beautiful and graceful.

You watched Max's face as he shared a smile with you but not a second later, you could clearly see the horror in his face as his body stiffen.

"Y/n, your nose." Charles cocks his head to the side of Max, inconspicuously pointing to his nose, prompting you to do the same. Your hand crept up to your face and it was met by a warm liquid oozing down your nose. When you swiped it off, you saw blood on your fingertips.

Max was quick to turn you around, shielding you from the cameras. You try to wipe your nose with your arm but the blood can't seem to stop.

"Are you okay? What's wrong? Do you want us to call the medics?" Max whispers in panic, still spraying the champagne at Charles and towards the crowd below as he shields you behind him. To the people below and in the crowd, it was as if you're just wiping the champagne off your face.

"Relax. It's just a nosebleed. This will pass." You whispered, still trying to wipe off the remaining blood. The sleeve of your green suit now tinted red. "What the heck, it's not stopping."

"Y/n, I think the cameramen are now noticing." Charles' eyes darted to the cameramen below and above.

"I've been a bit more anemic lately. I think that's why." You murmured.

"When Megan told me that your health is compromised, is this it?" Max leans to your side a bit, still facing front and waving to the crowd.

"You talked to her? What did she tell you?!" You glared at Max, surprising the two men.

"Y/n, Max, can you two talk about it later? We're still on the podium." Charles cleared his throat.

You slightly nudged Max away from you, not noticed by the crowd, while you pinch your nose and cover your face. Max can't help but stare in concern at your figure. His inner Alpha wanting to carry you and rush to medic's tent.

Then the ceremony ended.

"Y/n, come on. I haven't told him much, I promise. I just told him to leave you alone that day." Megan pleaded as she follows you while carrying a large box filled with your household items.

You open the door to let Megan in but you avoid her eyes. She darts across the empty unit, footsteps echoing along the walls, to place the box labeled 'Kitchen Items' down on the floor. You sighed, accepting defeat, as you drop the huge bag of items that you were carrying.

"Fine, but next time, stop telling him unnecessary information."

"Hey, your health was not an unnecessary information. I'm just glad you're fine now. I told you that your prolonged use of suppressants will eventually bite you in the ass." She rambled.

"Yes, yes. You gotta stop scolding me. It's been like a thousand times already." You groaned. "I got the podium and I'm on a suppressant detox. Happy?"

"Yes. I'm working on your schedule just in case it came early." Megan skips across the unit and stopped near the door. "I'll get the last box. You can stay here just in case the delivery company calls through the intercom." She exits the unit after you nod your head.

The empty huge apartment unit was now filled with unopened boxes. There were no furnitures yet but the anticipation of decorating your new home is making you excited. Wood and cured paint scent filled the air. It was relaxing for you but after a while, it's actually nauseating so you open the door to the balcony.

Coldness of the elegant granite greeted your arms as you lean against it. Your apartment is located in a spot overlooking the marina where you can spot plentiful yachts. With just a soft breeze, you could almost smell the sea. Even with your eyes closed, you could vividly visualize the city below you from its sound. The hustle and bustle of Monaco.

Closing your eyes for a few seconds made you yawn. You are still recovering from that horrific anemic bout during the podium ceremony in the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. The team had to recommend you to a local hospital for a check up and was just given a prescription. You took a flight out the next day and went straight to "Moving Out" mode. It hasn't been two days since the race but here you are, renting a luxurious apartment in Monaco, about to live your best life.

"Looks like you could fit a head in your mouth." You heard a familiar warm voice coming from above your balcony. When you opened your eyes, there was someone peeking their head out of their balcony and looking down below at you, apparently still yawning. You closed your mouth in embarrassment.

"Max?!"

"Hi neighbor!"

Next part: Part 5

Taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 @fanboyluvr @giffywiffy3408 @notyouraveragemochii @cmleitora @exotic-iris13 @topguncultleader @mirrorball-6 @barcelonaloverf1life @silscintilla @aquangxl @whyamireadingthis @imaddict

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mothdruid · 7 months ago

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Within the past 72 hours the TGM fandom got a fire put under it's ass, for lack of a better term/phrase. Even though I'm not as active in the fandom anymore, it did make me want to talk about a few things. This isn't the first time that I've had to make a post similar to this, usually speaking about reblogs and keeping your fanfic writers feeling wanted within the fandom spaces, but today I'm going to talk more about fandom etiquette and my experiences in fandom spaces. So, if you want to hear my opinion on fandom etiquette, how I learned fandom etiquette, and my thoughts about the doxing situation that has happened, keep on reading.

My Fandom Experience.

The first fandom that I was ever a part of was The Hunger Games fandom in the 8th grade (if you don't include my anime fandoms). I was 12-13 at the time. This was when I was first introduced to Tumblr and being involved within a fandom online. At the time I was super young, barely even knew who I was as a person, let alone in a fandom space. All I did was reblog little gifsets and fawn over Josh Hutcherson. I remember getting my first hate anon, even though I didn't do anything that would generate that to even happen. Even when I was 12-13, I couldn't understand why anyone would send a hate anon. That was when I found out a friend of mine found my Tumblr and actually secretly hated me, so she sent me hate anons. Still, before I knew it was her I didn't understand.

Fandoms were a formative part of my childhood. I think that main one that helped form me though was the Supernatural (yeah, I know, eye roll), Naruto, and The Hobbit fandoms. I had made friends on Tumblr and Instagram through these fandoms. During these times was when I had first started consuming fanfiction. Specifically, destiel and thilbo fanfiction. This is how I started to find the things in fanfiction that I loved, and the things that I hated. Instead of sending hate to the writers for their thoughts and stories that I didn't agree with, I would back out of the story or just scroll past. Not only that, I also started to use the filters on AO3 constantly, ensuring that I was only reading the fics that I knew I'd enjoy. Also, I was careful to read warnings and tags prior to reading the fic. Never once did I blame the writer for something that I knew I didn't like and accidentally read or read for see what it was about.

After high school was when I started getting into fanfiction writing. I've written for a lot of fandoms during this time. The IT movies, Total Drama, Haikyuu, Attack on Titan, Marvel, Bridgerton, Top Gun: Maverick, and currently ASOIAF. As a writer I've never gotten hate, thankfully, but I have had a lot of friends that have. It's sad to see so many people who take the time to write, whether it's enjoyable or not, receive hate. As writers we are simply expressing our creativity for the things that we love. Since posting fanfiction on tumblr, I have experienced a lot of people pestering for new updates and when the next fic is, and so have a lot of other writers on here. Even though people only know us as a little icon and username, fanfiction writers are people. We have lives outside of writing fanfiction. Everyone also isn't the same type writer. One person may easily write multiple fics every week, some of us take longer, and some of us are even just passion writers (me lol).

The TGM fandom has been one of the most negative fandom experiences I've ever seen/had. It is full of some of the meanest people/anons I've ever seen. From writers being attacked for fic ideas, people being sent hate for something that the anon has full control over, and people constantly expecting new stories to read on the daily. Yes, I do know that other fandoms have these issues, but it seems to be almost a weekly, hell, even daily thing within this fandom. A lot of the issues that I see happen in this fandom are from people who don't understand fandom etiquette.

Fandom Etiquette.

If you had noticed there was a few things I put in bold above. These are key things that I learned during my time that attribute to fandom etiquette. So without further a do, I'll list out some fandom etiquette rules that I follow all the time.

Don't send hate anons to people

Block/unfollow people you don't like

If you don't like an idea or fic, don't read it

Read through all warnings and tags that the writer provided

Use AO3 filters

Don't blame the writer/creator for reading things they created that you actively know you don't like

Writers/Creators aren't "content farms"

There are people behind these blogs/usernames, treat them like someone you'd see on the street

Writers/Creators are expressing love/passion for something, don't hate them for doing that

If you see something fandom related that you don't like, scroll past it or ignore it

YOU CURATE YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE (ESPECIALLY ON TUMBLR)

The Doxing Situation.

For those who are unaware but decided to read this anyways, recently there was a writer (Mama Mayhem) on here who got doxed from another writer in the fandom. Mayhem has since lost her job due to the doxing. This was apparently from her breaking HIPAA by posting a picture into a private groupchat/discord. This picture was posted almost a half year ago. Meaning that the person who reported/doxed Mayhem had known about this picture for months and only recently decided to do something about it.

I'll start by saying that I also work in healthcare, and know many other people here who do. I understand that a HIPAA violation is 100% an offense that gets you fired. I'm not excusing the HIPAA violation if one did occur.

Some people have brought up the idea that maybe the person that reported the picture, and doxed Mayhem, was doing it out of the goodness of their heart. Due to the timeline of it all, that doesn't seem likely. I had a previous coworker get fired for HIPAA violations and it took a total of a week from the initial report for her to be gone.

The biggest thing I want to convey is that TWO WRONGS CAN HAPPEN AT THE SAME TIME. Yes, if Mayhem violated HIPAA, it is wrong. But at the same time, the person held onto this information for months only to use it out of spite, pettiness, and cruelty, is wrong.

My Thoughts.

Due to Mayhem being doxed, a lot of people have decided to leave this platform, take indefinite hiatuses, stop writing, or move to AO3 exclusively., and I don't blame them. I'll be honest, I'm thinking about moving to AO3 exclusively now. AO3 feels a lot more rewarding in my experience. I already only post my fics for ships to AO3, so why not just post everything on AO3 (which I usually do).

I think a lot of people have forgot what it feels like to feel shame in something they say or do. When I say this, it's directed towards people who send hate or do other malicious things in fandom spaces. Fandoms were never this clique-ish and mean. I think it has to do with the pandemic, meaning that a lot of people who would have never joined a fandom did because they weren't allowed to do anything outside of their house. So, those mean girls that made fun of fandom girlies (g/n) previously, joined the fandoms and decided started bullying the people within them.

This situation is super shitty and people are now scared. It makes complete sense, especially after seeing someone, that many of you were close to, be doxed. A lot of people are scared of it happening to them now. I don't think this fandom will be the same after this situation, but who knows, maybe everyone will just forget and move on. Either way, I think I'll be taking a step back from the TGM fandom. I'll still be here, but until further notice, I won't be posting any TGM fanfiction. Maybe a gifset/picture here and there, but I don't think this is a fandom I feel comfortable writing for anymore.

If you've read all of this, thank you.

#moth talks #here it is #sorry it's so long but i couldn't convey my thoughts any other way

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rwbyrg · 4 months ago

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If it's alright, I'm just curious, do you have any thoughts of your own or theories about Oscar or Ruby or both of them in terms of v10? To add, do you have any theories for the merge and how it will end up for both Oscar and Ozpin? Like will it be a good or bad thing? Sorry if these questions seem vague lol

Of course it's alright to ask! I do have many thoughts and a handful of theories. I'll admit most of them are wishful thinking since there's truly no way to tell where the story will go until it actually happens. But if I were to distill it to the ones I'm most expecting and why, then I'd probably say:

Expansion on Ruby's solo arc that kicked off in V9

Acknowledging the setups (plural) between Ruby and Oscar's arcs

The merge-curse is eventually broken (blame the allusions)

I'll elaborate a bit below.

1. Expanding on Ruby's Arc

What we saw Ruby go through in V9 is very much not the end of that particular plot line, imo. We saw a bit of this in Justice League: Part 2 and the final ep of RWBY Beyond where she talks to Clark and Yang about her struggles a bit. Ruby needs to learn how to both ask for and accept help from those around her so the weight of everything she's carrying doesn't crush her. Especially now when they're down to the wire and she's come back as a resurrected martyr who's face has been used at the centre of the resistance movement she's now helping to lead. How will she live up to the expectations and pressures of that impossible pedestal when she's only a human girl with very normal knees who's barely keeping it together? Also, while I don't know exactly how they're going to address everything she experienced, and I struggle to imagine her speaking about Neo's Horror House to anyone directly... that sort of trauma doesn't just go away once it's over. So I would be very surprised if the effects of it didn't ripple throughout the remaining chapters of the show. Especially when every other member of RWBY has seemingly had the bulk of their main character arcs already. It's long overdue for Ruby to get that time in the spotlight. Which does sort of lead into my next point...

2. Acknowledging the Setups in Ruby and Oscar's Dynamic

For starters, we've got the merge and ascension parallels to address. Ruby and Oscar have always mirrored each other's issues around identity, choice, fear, responsibility, leadership, etc., and this buildup seems to be coming to a head following V9. From Oscar's "I'm just going to be another one of his lives, aren't I?" to Ruby's "What if you could be anyone?", and how the two of them will relate to each other in light of those contrasting - but similar - experiences. Especially with Ruby having just come back from the tree to find Oscar fighting against the merge harder than ever before. But we also have their attachments to each other to sort out as well. Ruby and Oscar have been watching each other's backs in different ways since V5, their reunion hug in V8 was interrupted where no other "pairing's" was, and they were the only "pairing" still to be split up between the Ever After and Remnant. Not to mention that, while they were separated, Ruby was pushed to a breaking point after being shown an illusion of losing Oscar, while Oscar was back in the real world eulogizing about how he lost Ruby. CRWBY doesn't setup relationship parallels and focuses as intensely and intentionally as this without pay off at some point.

Again, while the specifics are nearly impossible to predict, I'm expecting a bit of a Dojo Scene Reprise, heart-to-heart of sorts, and/or, something that puts those attachments to the test. My immediate thought is that this test will finally push Oscar to unlocking his semblance since getting shot, falling from Atlas, being kidnapped, and tortured were all not enough to make it happen. (Although my wishful thinking is that it unlocks in a happier moment, I think that's much less likely.)

If I were to engage in pure speculation on this, my easiest bet is that it will come at the hands of Tyrian. When our Little Prince was first introduced, it was almost as if he was waking from a nightmare of that villain laughing with glee at the opportunity to hunt down a certain rose. And with this being the Vacuo arc with Ruby and Oscar getting a lot of focus, and Tyrian already on the prowl within the kingdom, it would make a lot of sense. The little prince fated to have a confrontation with a venomous antagonist in the desert over his attachment to a rose is about as textbook as it gets. (I could also see it go to Cinder or being delayed until they follow through on the threat of Ruby being kidnapped by Salem, if that's the route they decide to take. But again we'll have to wait and see how it plays out.)

3. Oscar and the Merge

I'm not entirely sure where they're headed with this one between now and the resolution... but I do think the resolution itself will otherwise be a happy one, if not bittersweet. RWBY is a story about breaking cycles, and Oz has been part of one of the longest on Remnant since the very beginning. Pairing that with this show being, ultimately, a happy story, as well as a looking at two of Oscar and Oz's shared allusions, I can only imagine they will be separated by the end.

The first allusions to mention are from The Marvelous Land of Oz. Princess Ozma (aka Oscar) is the rightful heir to the kingdom and next in line to take over when it's time for the wizard to retire. It's very clear that - however this plays out - Oscar is the final incarnation. Typically, when one ruler leaves the throne that's it. They're gone. Oz has fiddled with Remnant's history for countless millennia now in his endless fight against Salem. When the dust settles and it's time for Remnant to rebuild, it should be up to the new generation to take charge without his influence from "the old world" in the mix.

From a Little Prince lens - for those unfamiliar with the book - the aviator (aka Oz) spends much of the story waffling about the little prince he is stranded with in the desert... only to be very sad when his new friend leaves him behind to go home to the stars. RWBY is already subverting this story a bit with Oscar being the one wanting to be rid of his pilot instead of the other way around. If I were to guess how the show will carry this further, it would be that Oz moves on, but perhaps with some lingering attachment on either (or both) sides. Maybe a bit of a "all this time I wanted it to end, but now that it's finally happening, I wish I (you) didn't have to go".

At least that's what seems to make sense to me, thematically speaking. Oscar will be irreversibly changed by these events even if he is freed from the curse, however. There is no question about it. Because that is what the Hero's Journey is all about.

The hero leaves their farm and they fall through a new world. It is both horrifying and exciting in equal measure. And throughout it all they are changed by the experiences they have and the people they meet - both good and bad, within their control and outside of it. And when the quest is finally over, there is grief. Because you are not the same person you were when you left home, and you can never truly return to what you had and who you were before it all happened.

This is also, coincidentally, just what it means to grow up. Which - while not the only one, and certainly not unique to Oscar's arc alone - has always been one of the loudest allegories hiding within the merge to me. We meet and know people, we don't always have a say in how long they can stay and how they change us... and then one day they are gone, but their influence and our memories of them stay with us. And then, as RWBY has taught us since the very beginning, we keep moving forward despite it all.

( @creatoriamari tagging you here just in case to make sure you get the notif because I don't know if it still works if I saved the ask as a draft. 🙇‍♀️)

#THESE WERE FUN TO ANSWER!!#ty for the ask!#ask #asks #creatoriamari #secret hidden 4th point is a vacuo party so we can finally cash in on 'fighting and dancing aren't so different'.#give me oscar asking ruby to dance only for her to say 'i'm not really a dancy pantsy kind of girl'#and for him to ask 'would you like to be'#i'll be normal about them #sorry #rwby #ruby rose #oscar pine #rosegarden #theories #theory

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roseofdarknessblog · 1 year ago

Text

Raspberry kisses (Postwar!Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Word count: 3 450

Disclaimer: english is not my first language, I apologize in advance for any mistakes

Summary: After many hardships that came with a new and much different life in the world after the Rumbling, you and Levi finally own a tea shop.

This story can be read on its own or as a part of my little post-war series: Learn to live again

Raspberry kisses

If somebody asked you, when was the last time you had a truly good and restful sleep, you wouldn't know how to answer. You hated how endless most nights seemed. Mostly when you ended up wandering around the little apartment or simply staring at the ceiling. Or even waiting if such a nightmare would wake up Levi as well. He used to have them more often than you, unfortunately.

And tonight wasn't any different. You were asleep when you felt him tossing around, just seconds before he cried out something you couldn't understand. But he did it loud enough to wake you up, sending your body and mind into a panic mode. When you sat up, reaching for the switch from the little lamp on the nightstand, shivers were running down your back, your eyes searching the room for any kind of danger.

„Y/N...“ Levi got out quietly, breathing hard and rubbing his eyes.

„I'm here, it's fine, it's okay. You're okay.“ With a shaking voice, you moved closer to him and grabbed both of his hands, pulling him into a tight hug. You knew Levi since the time you both lived in the Underground, so by now, you knew more than well what you were supposed to do to help him. „Shhh, it was just another nightmare,“ you whispered into his ear, one of your hands rubbing soothing circles across his bare back. His warm skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat, his whole body trembling against yours.

„You okay?“ The weak, worried tone of his voice shattered your heart.

„Of course I am.“ Reassuring him that you were fine was the key. No matter what he dreamed about, he had to make sure there was nothing wrong with you right after he woke up. „Of course, I am okay, love. Nothing from your dream is real. We're both fine and safe. We're home.“ Your fingers slipped into his hair, your lips pressing tiny kisses to his forehead.

„We were back in Shiganshina...“ Levi whispered, his voice cold and still shaky.

„Did you see Erwin?“

„And every single one of them, too. All their faces.“

To this day, you felt horribly guilty that you didn't take part in that mission. You weren't there when the Scouts went back to the town where it all began and tried retaking Wall Maria. Since you suffered very serious injuries during the encounter with the Female Titan, you were still recovering. And nobody wanted or needed a soldier, who wasn't capable of carrying out every order or fighting without restrictions. So Commander Erwin decided that you would stay behind at the HQ in Trost, waiting for their return. Not in your wildest dreams could you imagine, that only a handful of them would come back. Without him, the Commander who gave you and Levi a chance to leave the Underground and start a different life.

So looking back, Annie almost killing you, when her Titan slammed you into a tree saved your life in the long term.

You gently kissed Levi's forehead, encouraging him to take slow deep breaths alongside you. It usually didn't take long for him to calm down. Once he made sure, that you were still alive and right next to him, he snapped back to reality. Since you got married a few months back, he always checked if you had your wedding band on and if your whole relationship wasn't just a part of another dream.

„Sorry for waking you up,“ Levi mumbled quietly, laying back down and pulling you down between the sheets with him. It was obvious that his leg was hurting once again since it took him a while to get comfortable and stop shifting. „Will you be able to fall back asleep?“

„Don't stress about that, it's fine.“ You wrapped your arms tightly around his still slightly trembling body, pressing your lips to his neck. As he was holding you tight against him, you could feel how fast his heart was beating. „Everything is okay. I'm right here.“

The gentle silver moonlight was shining into the room through the parted curtains. It was way past midnight, close to four in the morning. The street, to which your bedroom windows were overlooking, was eerily quiet since everyone was home and asleep. There was still time until the start of a brand new late November day. Each day and each night was slowly but surely getting colder, reminding you how close the winter season was.

„Are you in pain?“ you asked as Levi couldn't stay still. „It's the cold, right?“

„Probably.“

Last autumn and winter were hard for Levi. His injuries were hurting much more when the weather outside got cold. At first, you didn't think that his worsening pains had anything in common with the changing seasons. But after one of his surgeries, a doctor told you, that it's normal for many patients in similar conditions.

„More than a year and a half later and those damn missing fingers still hurt,“ Levi sighed resting his chin on top of your head. „It's not as bad as it used to be, but still... it's annoying.“

„Phantom pain...“ you whispered, pressing your lips to his neck again. „It's supposed to disappear with time. At least that's what they told us, right?“ He nodded, straightening his left leg again gritting his teeth in the process.

„They told us a bunch of useless shit so who knows.“

You chuckled quietly, stroking his side and nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. His bare torso felt so nice and warm underneath you. So soft and still a little unfamiliar, but in the best way possible. The past few months, when you looked at Levi or at yourself, you could see some changes. Not training or living as actively as before, resting way more, and eating much differently than ever before started showing here and there.

Surprisingly, this fact didn't make either one of you angry. Quite the opposite. It felt... strangely therapeutic. Your mind took it as a reassurance from your body that you were finally safe. It was perfectly okay to lay around when you felt like it or eat as much as your heart desired. Putting on some weight was an incredible feeling since both you and Levi knew how it felt like to almost starve to death.

„We'll probably have a long day. Fridays are always busy,“ you said after a moment of silence, your eyes slowly closing again.

„Gabi and Falco are coming to help us out, they don't have school for some reason.“

„Really? That's lovely, I always miss them.“ Those two loved coming here to visit you and Levi. Falco was still trying and failing in chess against your husband, who loved kicking the boy's ass every single time. But Falco's determination to win was simply adorable.

For the past five months, you and Levi put all your time and energy into the tea shop he always dreamed about. Opening it wasn't easy, mainly because Levi didn't think it was a good idea with all of his disabilities. He didn't trust himself enough to run his own business.

However, he wasn't alone – he had you, his loving wife and his biggest supporter. And together, you were taking care of the small shop, which helped with your healing even more than you hoped it would. Having something, that was solely your responsibility felt amazing. Sometimes stressful, but rewarding at the same time.

Coming home every evening and feeling tired because of work felt strangely liberating. Running the tea shop truly made you feel that you had a firm grasp of your life and future. After years of feeling uncertain if you'll live another day or week, having this kind of security and calmness felt like a true gift.

„These are the last ones,“ Falco said, handing you a couple more little card boxes you were stocking up in the back of the little kitchen. Since you were selling different kinds of cookies and pastry as well, they were perfect for packing up all the orders for your customers.

You smiled over your shoulder at the boy. „Thank you so much.“

While Gabi loved helping serve the customers or simply chatting with Levi when there was no work, Falco loved spending time in the back with you. Helping you complete orders or even with some baking for the shop. Your cooking and baking skills were never the best, but since Onyankopon decided to teach you many of his favorite recipes, you were very slowly getting better and better.

Not long ago you tried to offer some of your bakings to the customers and to your surprise, they loved it. A whole tray of lemon cookies sold out in a couple of hours. So since then, you tried experimenting more and more, relying a little less on the bakery that supplied you with other delicious treats.

„What's the matter, Falco? You seem distracted. Did something happen with Gabi?“

He shook his head, leaning against the counter. „I miss Colt a lot these days. Like... I miss him all the time but lately, it's more...“

„I get it,“ you said, seeing how he struggled with finding the right words. „I'm sure he's happy that you have such a calm and safe life now. And that you and Gabi are sticking together.“

Colt Grice, Falco's older brother, was a complete stranger to you. The two of you never even met, but you knew so much about him thanks to Falco. He made sure to tell you everything about his brother, who tragically died when Falco was turned into a Titan for the very first time. Just a moment before he ate Porco Galliard and became the new Jaw Titan. You didn't know that man either, but once again, Falco made sure to tell you a lot of things about him. And in a way, your heart was breaking for all of them – all the former Marleyan Warriors, who once wanted you dead. Under different circumstances, you all could have been friends.

„Will it really get easier after more time?“ he asked, looking at you curiously with his hazel eyes. He sounded truly troubled over his own thoughts.

With a sigh, you came closer to him and leaned against the counter right next to him. You hugged him around the shoulders and pulled him closer. „Everybody says it does, so I guess we just have to wait and see for ourselves. I don't want to lie to you, so I'm not going to sugarcoat it. You're not a little kid anymore.“

„I wish I was.“

„I bet you do.“

It surprised you when he leaned against you for a few moments. Both Falco and Gabi became very close to you and Levi. In a way, they reminded you of the 104th kids when you first got to meet them all those years before, after they joined the Survey Corps. And remembering how both of them fought in the final battle alongside you still made you a little emotional. They came a long way and learned a lot. In a very harsh way but... life back then was all about suffering and pain.

„Guess I'll go...“ Falco said quietly in a sad tone, looking into the ground.

„No, no! Wait a second!“ you blurted out and pulled Falco into a tight hug, stroking his hair and kissing the top of his head. „It's okay to feel like this. You lost your brother, friends, your homeland... it's normal to be sad and confused even after a year and a half. We're all adjusting. What we saw and did was horrible and nobody has the right to blame us, that we sometimes still feel sad and have the need to grieve what we lost.“

He nodded a few times, not saying anything in return. He truly was a great and wise kid. You didn't have to worry about him, he would get through all of this and live a happy life. That much was certain.

„You can talk to me or Levi anytime you want, okay?“ Falco nodded again and gave you a little smile. „Now, let's see what those two are up to.“ With a smile, you ruffled his hair and both of you left the kitchen in the back of the tea shop.

When you walked into the main area of the shop, you found Gabi sitting behind the cash register, eating the last chocolate cupcake you had available. But since it was almost closing time anyway, it was fine. They both loved finishing any pastry that was left at the end of the day, it was probably their favorite part of the day spent here.

„Where's Levi?“ you asked her, seeing his wheelchair empty and left behind the counter.

„Outside, talking to some kids,“ Gabi said with her mouth full, a tiny bit of chocolate frosting on the tip of her nose.

„Careful, you'll get the frosting all over your face,“ you chuckled and looked over at Falco, who went to pick up one of the last raspberry cookies, which you baked this morning. Until now, you've only done them at home for you and Levi, so today was their big premiere in the shop. Seeing them almost all gone made you more than happy.

„I'll go check on him, can you stay here?“ you asked those two and headed for the door.

Today was another good day. Many people came to have tea and something sweet right here, or just buy something and take it back home to enjoy later. It really didn't matter. The most important thing was, that they kept coming back. You were earning a good amount of money for your household, but it was also possible to put some money aside.

But the most important thing was, that doing this job and having this place was helping both Levi and you heal in many different ways. You loved seeing him interact with the customers. And even more, you loved seeing how lovely and respectfully they acted towards your husband. Many people loved coming back to have a conversation with him... and Levi didn't mind one bit. Quite the opposite. You could see that it truly made him happy and satisfied with how life turned out.

After so much pain and suffering, he was getting content and comfortable with what the two of you had now.

When you made your way over to the front door, you saw Levi sitting on the bench right outside, talking to a pair of siblings you knew very well. The toy store next to your tea shop belonged to their parents, so the ten-year-old twins used to come over pretty often. Both of them loved talking to Levi and having a cup of their favorite raspberry mint tea, which Levi mixed together, especially for them.

You watched them for a little while until the kid's mom closed the toy store and they all headed home. Both of the boys stopped just before turning the corner, and they waved to Levi one last time. He waved back with his right hand, giving the kids a small smirk.

„They loved your new cookies,“ Levi said even before looking at you.

„I'm not that surprised, they love anything with raspberry flavor,“ you chuckled and came to sit down next to him. „Are you okay? It was a pretty busy day.“ One of your hands came to rest on his right knee, squeezing it lovingly.

„Yeah, I'm fine. Needed to walk around a little, my lower back was hurting from all that damned sitting.“

You nodded understandingly. „Just don't be here for too long, it's cold. I don't want you to get sick.“ Leaning closer, you kissed his cheek, resting your head against his.

„Tch, I don't get sick that easy, you should know that,“ he teased you, wrapping one of his arms around you tightly. „What are those two doing inside?“

„Finishing up the sweets.“

„Are they staying for dinner as well?“

„Yeah,“ you nodded, kissing his cheek one more time before standing up. It was way too cold to be sitting outside. „I'll walk them to the train station after dinner, you can stay home and rest.“

„The hell? And let you wander the streets alone in the dark?“

„I can take care of myself,“ you reminded him but knew it was a lost case. He would never let you go to the train station and back alone. Not when it got already dark outside. „Okay, we'll walk them there together. Gabi's father is going to wait for them back home.“

Levi nodded and pushed himself to his feet as well. You reached out your hand towards him, but he didn't take it. So while he slowly limped back to the shop, you stayed close in case he would need to lean against you for support. With gritted teeth, he walked back inside and with a pained expression sat back into his wheelchair. It was very noticeable just how exhausted this short walk made him. But you were glad that he was trying to stay as active as possible.

The sun outside was setting, casting dark shadows over the shop's interior – the little round tables with wooden chairs, pictures on the wall, the counter with the cash register, or the shelves behind it with many kinds of tea. The place always seemed cozy and welcoming, during any time of the day.

„Okay, let's clean up and go home. We'll cook something delicious for dinner. What would you like?“ you asked Gabi and Falco with a smile. Every time they came to visit, you cooked one of their favorite foods. It was a little act of kindness you loved doing for them.

While the two of them were debating on what should be for dinner, Levi reached for your hand and pulled you towards him, making you sit down on his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist tightly, his head resting against your shoulder.

„What is it?“ you asked, running your fingers through his hair.

Levi shook his head and closed his eyes, gently stroking your side. The content and relaxed expression on his lovely face almost melted your heart. There was nothing better than seeing him like this and knowing just how big of a progress he made since the Rumbling.

„I love you so much,“ you whispered, kissing the top of his head. Gabi and Falco were still talking, not minding what the two of you were doing. „And... I just love all of this. Everything we have now and how we live. I guess we finally found what we were looking for.“

„I think we found even more,“ Levi said in a quiet tone, his body relaxing against yours, while his arms stayed tightly around your waist, keeping you close. „Thank you, Y/N. For everything.“

It was during moments like this one when you hoped that your fallen friends and comrades were watching. And hopefully smiling at the life the two of you built together. Because looking back to old times, this was what all of them fought so hard for – a quiet and peaceful life. A life that didn't need to be lived in a constant state of hypervigilance. The kind you and Levi now got the chance to wake up to every single morning.

All the fighting was done and all the pain was slowly but surely fading away. Every single day was a little brighter and easier. Your hearts hurt a little less with each passing week. After almost two decades of fighting for humanity, you could enjoy the sweetest reward.

Together.

As you looked over at Falco, you found him and Gabi happily grinning at the two of you. Before you said anything, the boy handed you a raspberry cookie while he and Gabi shared the last one.

„I'm happy they were such a hit,“ you chuckled and broke the cookie in half, giving one of them to your husband.

With a smirk, Levi kissed your cheek and ate his half of the cookie in one bite. Before you knew it, he took your half as well and popped it in his mouth, not giving you a single second to intervene. You playfully furrowed your brows, holding his face gently and kissing him right before the kids. Only because he hated it so much and wanted to pull away immediately, mumbling something about how childishly you were acting.

„Guess you liked my cookies the best,“ you chuckled and gave him one more sweet kiss, discretely licking the raspberry flavor from his lips.