#if he only knew how old some of us were right?

[latenightreadingpdf]

Spencer's Secret - Spencer Reid

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: All Spencer wanted was to finish his paperwork and go home, but now he’s in a bar, drunk, and confessing all his secrets to Derek.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The team had barely settled back into the office after a grueling case when Derek threw an arm over Emily’s shoulder, talking about needing a drink. Emily agreed with a weary smile, and soon enough, JJ, Penelope, and Rossi had chimed in, all eager to unwind together. Somehow, they’d even managed to convince Hotch, who gave them a reluctant nod, his rare smile hinting he could use a break too.

All that was left was Spencer. Sitting at his desk, he was hunched over, diligently finishing up his paperwork, when Derek strolled over and leaned in with his usual, "Hey, pretty boy."

Spencer looked up, already anticipating the question. "No, Derek, I’m not going."

Derek raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "I didn’t even get to ask!"

"Doesn’t matter. I’m not going," Spencer replied firmly, looking back down at his files.

"Come on, kid," Derek urged, his voice dropping to a softer, pleading tone. "Just this once. If you come, I’ll never ask again. I swear."

Spencer let out a sigh, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with him. There was a beat of silence as he mulled it over, glancing at the hopeful faces of his teammates nearby. Finally, he closed his file, resigned. "Fine," he muttered, “but just this once."

Derek’s face broke into a grin, practically bouncing on his feet. "You heard him, guys—he’s in! Let’s go before he changes his mind."

Spencer reluctantly stood up, pulling on his coat with a sigh. He glanced around, noticing the others already gathering their things, excitement buzzing among them. As they all filed out together, Penelope slung an arm around Spencer, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

"Oh, Spence, you’ll have fun. Trust me," she said, winking.

Spencer managed a small, hesitant smile, wondering just what he was getting himself into. It wasn’t exactly his ideal night out, but surrounded by his friends, he couldn’t help but feel a faint sense of anticipation growing despite himself.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

As soon as the team settled into the bar, the weight of the last case started to fade. They ordered the first round, eager to drink, laugh, and let loose for a few hours. The drinks flowed freely, and soon they were deep in conversation, sharing old stories and laughing harder with each passing round. Spencer, who rarely drank, was feeling more than a little tipsy. Nights like these weren’t really his scene—he usually found it far more comfortable to stay home. But now, with the warm buzz in his head and his friends around, he was actually enjoying himself.

Meanwhile, Derek had been off flirting at the bar, but eventually made his way back to the booth, where Spencer was the last one still sitting. Derek, who could hold his liquor well, was only slightly buzzed. He noticed Spencer's dazed expression and grinned, sliding into the seat next to him. "Pretty boy," he said, nudging him, "there are so many gorgeous women here tonight. You should go try and have some fun, maybe even get a date."

Spencer, a little too drunk to filter his thoughts, shook his head. "Don’t need a date," he said, his words slurring slightly.

Derek raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Oh yeah? And why’s that?"

Spencer’s face softened, and he blurted, “I’ve got an amazing girlfriend at home.”

"Right, sure," Derek teased, not at all convinced. "So what’s her name?"

Spencer’s face lit up. "Y/N," he said, his voice full of adoration. He leaned in, eyes dreamy, and started rambling. “She’s incredible, Derek. So smart, so beautiful. She’s way out of my league—I still can’t believe she’s with me.”

Derek chuckled, noticing just how drunk Spencer was. It was getting late, and he knew Spencer would never make it home on his own. “Why don’t you call Y/N to pick you up, then?” he said, jokingly.

Spencer’s face brightened, and he fumbled for his phone. Derek watched in amusement as he dialed, still skeptical, until he heard a faint “Hello?” from the other end.

Spencer’s face lit up even more. “Hello, my love,” he said, voice thick with affection.

You let out a soft laugh on the other side of the line. “Hey, Spence! Everything alright?”

Spencer grinned, completely forgetting why he’d called. “Yeah,” he said dreamily. “I just…wanted to hear your pretty voice.”

You laughed, clearly touched. Derek, now genuinely surprised that someone had actually answered, took the phone from Spencer, holding it up to his ear. "Hello?" he asked, still a bit skeptical.

"Uh, hi,” you replied, a little confused. “Who is this?"

Derek cleared his throat. “This is Derek. Spencer friend.”

“Oh! Nice to finally meet you, Derek, Spencer talks about you and the team quite a bit.” you said, sounding amused. “I’m Y/N, his girlfriend.”

Derek muttered, “Holy shit, you’re real.”

"Sorry?" you asked, sounding puzzled.

“Nothing, nothing,” he chuckled. “Listen, Spencer’s had a bit too much to drink. Are you able to pick him up?”

You let out a soft, understanding laugh. “Yeah, of course. Just tell me where you guys are.”

Derek gave you the address and hung up, handing the phone back to Spencer. "Your girlfriend’s coming to get you," he said, still slightly in awe that Spencer’s been hiding a girlfriend from them.

Spencer’s eyes lit up even more. “Y/N?” he asked eagerly.

“Yeah, pretty boy, Y/N,” Derek replied, shaking his head with a grin.

Spencer slumped back in his seat with a satisfied sigh. “Finally,” he mumbled. “Someone cool to hang out with.”

Derek just laughed, patting Spencer on the shoulder. He sat down with Spencer and waited with him for Y/N to get there, eager to meet her.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

As Spencer was still happily rambling to Derek about his incredible girlfriend, the door opened, and a beautiful woman stepped into the bar. Spencer’s eyes widened instantly. "Y/N!" he exclaimed, jumping up so quickly he nearly tripped. He stumbled over to you, practically throwing himself into your arms, clinging to you like he’d just found his lifeline. He buried his face in your neck, a contented sigh escaping him.

You wrapped your arms around him, laughing softly at his drunken enthusiasm. "Looks like someone had a good time," you teased, rubbing his back.

“Missed you so much,” he mumbled into your neck, his words muffled but unmistakably fond.

Looking up, you noticed a man standing a few steps behind Spencer, observing the two of you with an amused grin. "You must be Derek," you said, offering him a warm smile.

Derek smiled back, giving a nod. "Nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you tonight."

Before you could respond, Spencer had already started tugging you gently toward the exit. You glanced back at Derek and gave him a quick smile. "Hopefully we can actually talk sometime soon," you said, laughing as Spencer clung to your arm.

Derek chuckled, nodding. "I’d like that. Take care of him. Goodnight, Y/N."

He watched as you guided a tipsy, lovesick Spencer out of the bar, a soft smile still on his face. Just then, Penelope popped up beside him, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “What are you staring at?” she asked, following his gaze to the exit.

“Spencer’s got a girlfriend,” Derek said, unable to keep a little laugh from escaping as he recalled the whole scene.

Penelope’s eyes went wide, and she gasped, practically bouncing in place. "Wait, what?! Our Spencer? Oh my God, I need details!"

Derek smirked, shaking his head. "Calm down, babygirl. You can interrogate him tomorrow," he teased.

Penelope pouted, but the excitement was already building. After a second, she sighed dramatically, then brightened up again and grabbed Derek’s hand. “Fine! But right now, you’re dancing with me.”

Derek let her pull him to the dance floor, chuckling as he made a mental note to tease Spencer about this night for a long time.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: In Which Gojo Satoru Commits Regicide.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 0.7k.

TW: Mentions of Consensual Sex and Off-Screen Violence. I Am Coping, But I Am Also Pissed. Be Patient, I Beg of You.

Live Dove: Tender and Sweet.

You’d been a little confused when Satoru came home uncharacteristically giddy in spite of the bitingly cold February weather, and a little more than confused when he said he had something to show you, took you by the arm, and teleported you out of your apartment entirely (after waiting for you to give your clear and enthusiastic consent, of course). You had no idea where he was taking you, but it only took a single second of whipping your head in either direction, a single glimpse of those awful bright yellow curtains and tacky eagle rug, to know where you were.

“Satoru,” you gasped, and his grin widened. “Is this the oval office?”

“The one and only.” His voice was low and smug, his tone more than enough to prove that he already knew you like your surprise. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he swept the content the presidential desk in the floor with his free hand and lifted you onto its outer edge, placing himself in the space between your open legs as if brought there by a gravitational pull. You draped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a long, deep kiss as sweet as apple pie, or funnel cake, or other true symbols of American culture that were formed through a broad, grassroot endearment rather than a bunch of gross old men deciding they’d look cool on a flag three-hundred years ago.

Reminded of gross old men, you pulled away with another sharp gasp. “But, ‘toru, what if he catches us?”

You had no problem with getting your back blown out by your loving boyfriend in one of the most sacred rooms in the United States, but if that lead-paint poisoned geezer happened to walk in (if he even could walk on his own, anymore), it’d totally ruin the mood. Satoru only laughed. “Don’t worry, baby,” And then, flashing you a quick wink, “I made sure to clear the place out for us.”

“Satoru, you didn’t!”

“Guess some fascists just can’t handle their blunt force damage,” he said, shrugging. Suddenly, your expression dropped, and Satoru noticed right away. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Well, it’s not that the racist, senile felon didn’t deserve to have his skull caved in by a bisexual transgender man – since, y’know, we’re both bisexual and transgender.” Satoru nodded, affirming the fact that you two were similarly transgender and also bisexual, which you were. “It’s just – now that misogynistic white supremacist who jerks off to Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale every night before fucking his couch is going to be president, and that that kind of sucks too.”

“James David Vance?”  Satoru asked, refusing to use his initially and therefore highlighting how stupidly pretentious his name was. “You think too little of me, sweetheart.”

Possibly for the third time, you gasped. “Is he…?”

“Mhm. Took care of him right before I came home, got him right as he was coming out of his filler appointment. Beat him to death with a copy of his own book and everything, after leaving it a one-star review on Goodreads, of course.” Again, he shrugged, but smile gave away his self-satisfaction. “It’s all in a day’s work for the world’s strongest and most politically active sorcerer, I guess.”

“But, if that pathetic old man and his castrated lapdog are both dead, then who’s the president?”

“Check the news, baby.”

You fished your phone out of your pocket as Satoru sucked hickeys into your neck, obviously waiting until he had your full attention to go further. Again, you gasped. You were starting to lose count of how many times that’d happened, so far. “Abortions and insulin are provided upon request and also free now?!”

“Oh, wait, are they?” You turned your screen in his direction, and Satoru hummed in approval. Everyone’s quality of life had gotten a lot better since your good friend, Nanami Kento, was placed onto the Supreme Court in the final days of Biden’s term. “Sick. Not what I was talking about, though – scroll down.”

You scrolled down, and gasped once more. Your throat was starting to hurt. “Everyone in the country’s unanimously ellected the first female president?”

“Not just any female president,” he said, smirking and tapping on a trust-worthy article from a reliable and non-partisan source. “Say her name for me, baby.”

The final gasp you gaspt was the loudest and most gasp-like of all.

“Hatsune Miku?!”

[theinheriteddutchess]

I have always liked talking to and befriending men. No one I knew hated men. We have been kind and compassionate. We have listened and advised. We have laughed and we have supported. And even those men can come up with sayings like "worse to lose from a girl" "but he's a nice guy when you get to know him!" (After arguing the guy was acting very creepy and every girl I knew thought the same after dealing with him).

It's hard hearing over and over again, since we were young children, that boys and men think lesser of us because we're female. They are willing to hurt us if we disagree or are better at something. They will sometimes hurt you for simply enjoying doing something. They will be angry if we reject them. No matter how nice. Rejection does get us hurt, because at some point they might become mean or they physically hurt you (this happened more than once unprompted).

And everyone you care about who is female (no matter the young or old) has experienced this. It's not in our heads, or simply active imagination.

I have sided with men and I have supported men. It would be nice if for once men can side and support us.

Realize many (MANY) men have mistreated women (as big as abuse or simply laughing and dismissing us) and the hurt and anger isn't going to simply disappear, and sometimes we're tired. We can't even vent because we are called man haters.

When women say they hate men, do they mistreat men? Or are they meaning the men who hurt them (and if you aren't one of those why are you defending these men?) and who are still treated like more valuable in this society? And if they truly hate men, do they simply stop interacting with men and withdraw from them?

While men who say "women" mean all women and apparently that's okay. And they do, actually hate them. And how do they react? Violence and getting to force these women that they detest and hate, to be submissive to them and harass them.

Men are experiencing women being tired of being treated as less. No feminist wants to be better and rule over men. Real feminism isn't about that. We just want to be treated decent. And be safe.

If you think women being treated better means men get treated worse, you have a problem. And we can't fix it for you. It takes therapy and listening and seeing yourself and working on that.

If you want to be loved by a women you need to start loving her. And that means seeing her as a person, as an equal. Everyone has flaws, you don't need to treat her like a queen. You need to treat her like she matters as a person.

Women aren't your enemy.

If you truly do the right thing and being moral, most people who interact with you aren't seeing you as scum, they will see you as someone that gives them hope (and how sad is that? One man as opposed to many others who don't!). One of the good guys. And that should be enough for now, the whole world might not like you, but they will.

It's almost like men are experiencing only a slice of what we had to deal with all of our lives. I can empathize, I've been there.

(but I do truly believe you should care for one another and I don't treat you crap for being a man, if you're nice to me I'm nice to you, and if you've got problems I'll be the first to listen. I think the only way to improve things is actually listen to each other and working together. It's incredibly sad what's happening over and over again)

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[backinmyphase]

Just a heart broke bitch!

Synopsis. Only 24 hours passed since your ex ended it. So why did you find yourself in a club waiting for someone to fuck? Someone like Satoru Gojo?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, college! Gojo, Satoru is down bad and reader doesn't know, overstím, (not mentioned but reader is on the pill), nipple sucking

Word count. 2.2k

A/N. I have never written smut before, so this is more like an experiment hehe

"Shouldn't we at, fuck! hah~ l-least have a first date?"

Gojo had that smug smile on his face as his eyes looked down at your body, inspecting the sweat that was shining from your naked chest. Behind his smugness you could see his back tense up. Just as sweaty as yours. His hair disheveled, standing up in all directions.

"S-shut u-AAAAAAh-" you gasped and couldn't keep the moan in as he made you shudder with his-

"Up."

A little context to this situation you found yourself in. You were in a shit position. A couple of hours before you sat at the table of a cafe trying to grasp what was happening right there.

"What?"

"We should break up." your, well now ex-boyfriend didn't have any readable expression on his face. "I can't do this anymore."

"What do you mean with this?" your body stiffened, no seeable reaction shown.

"I heard about how you acted in high school. About your little adventures with your friends." his look was different from before. It was filled with- "I don't want a girlfriend which is a slut. Who sucked off more men than she kissed."

Your hand gripped your glass of coffee harder. "Excuse me?"

He shook his head. "You know what I am talking about. Let's just end and forget about this relationship. It was never that good anyway."

And like that he got up and walked away.

And you really wished you got up and gave him a piece of your mind. Tell him how it really was at these parties which you were back then to young to go to. And how the guys you met there knew that. How they used that.

Tell him what kind of entitled asshole he was, to shame you for your old ways of seeking validation.

Back then you were only seventeen. And they were at least twenty one. But you were the filthy slut, who was to wild and surely not loyal enough to be in a relationship, right?

You hated how even now you just swallowed your emotions, your tears and your feeling of self worth.

Because you shouldn't be crying about such an asshole, right? Your friends, well they called themselves that, said not to sulk just search for a new one in the club. They probably told him all about your old stories. Like always when things were going good for you.

They were the only people you had, who stuck by your side. So was it really your fault that you took out your black dress, with your six inch heels?

Yes.

Because even though you wanted to deny it, you liked this boy you had dated. He was your first real relationship, shouldn't that mean something?

But it was never that good anyway, right?

While sitting and sipping champagne in this nightclub, you could already feel your common sense slipping away.

Stupid like back then, because you should know that your friends wouldn't bring you back to your home. Isn't that how you ended up in all these beds? Them doing drugs outside while you were drinking with a guy who will bring you with him, no matter what you really wanted.

You shouldn't trust those people.

It was always just drunk calls, drunk texts, drunk tears, drunk sex.

And those days were behind you. Right?

You wish you could say that. But then you wouldn't be sitting here, dressed up to forget what was really going through your mind right now. No, they weren't behind you and maybe your ex was right.

You stopped smoking along time ago. You stopped following these things that told you you were only something with them. But today was different.

You took some cigarettes that were given to you from some dude with a devious smile. Not your best move. But right now anything was better than you alone in your head.

"This seat free?"

And then there was this guy like your fate was laughing at you. This guy who had this gorgeous white hair and kind of boyish smile. Like a perfect opportunity to forget tonight.

"Yeah, no worries." you were kind of surprised at the sound of your own voice. It was raspier than usual. Like the smoke already made it's mark.

His tall frame lowered onto the seat next to you, his body facing your direction, instead of the bar. He already had this curious look. "So what brings you here alone?"

You shrugged and gave the bartender a sign as you finished your champagne. "Two more wines, please."

The bartender just nodded and fetched you your first one.

"Woah, slow down." The white haired mans expression changed. "That bad down to get wasted?"

"Yeah, well wouldn't be in a Club if not, or would I?" you looked up at his face, and now was your turn to check him out. Other than the fact that he was tall and he was insanely pretty. That was no problem, in fact it helped. But his almost concerned expression wasn't.

"I guess." He tilted his head a bit. "What's your name?"

Maybe it was the alcohol but for some stupid reason you just told him your name. And he leaned forward and whispered.

"I'm Gojo Satoru."

That wasn't ideal. While you didn't really care about your college people, he had quite a name in your college. But any critical thinking was thrown out of the window since your second shot in the last hour.

Amd as you looked at those eyes that had the for you known look in them you whispered back.

"You want to fuck?"

Yeah, your thinking really did leave an hour ago. Because you swore that you would never be in these surroundings and would never ask such a question a stranger again. But like back then you just wanted to forget.

You didn't remember what came next and how you did end up in this small apartment. All you did know that you were impatient at Gojo because he took too long to get on the bed and fuck you.

Why were there two glasses of wine on this table next to him? Were you talking to him? You couldn't remember.

You just knew that you needed something to keep these thoughts away.

"God, you are driving me crazy." he was on top of you, his hands were everywhere, touching you, heating up your body.

"So beautiful for what?" he mumbled, his naked body (wait when did he get naked? When did you get naked? Oh what does it matter...) was pressed against yours as he kissed your lips.

"I need you now." your arms now around him pressing him closer to your, trying to get your aching pulse down there closer to his.

He laughed and laid his head back. "You are acting like a dick you know that?"

"Well you might as well stick it in."

And that's how you ended up under Satoru Gojo as he bullied his far too big cock inside you.

And you could almost swear he was in love with you, with how he clashed on your teeth so messy, so hot, so starved. Like he couldn’t get enough with the way he hastily moves to press wet, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. 

"Oh. Fuck. You are so unfair you know that?" he was heavily gasping for air, but still made sure to leave a kiss after every deep thrust inside you.

"Is that what you wanted? No more thoughts because I fuck you so good?" and he went all the way back out of you just to slam his hips back down again.

"fuck!" you almost screamed as he hit that spot inside again, holding onto his back, no more like clawing at his back for dear life. "right t-there, please!"

His head went lower with his trail of kisses until he reached your chest. "No need to beg, pretty."

Your body is slick with sweat and only growing hotter by the moment; the sound of his rough panting coupled with the occasional whine he lets out only has you panting more.

And he has the nerve to go faster while thrusting inside you. Making you see stars as he kissed your nipples, sucked on them, made out with your chest.

"Satoru!" you moaned, you couldn't do anything else. "You are killing me!"

And even though you were far gone and overstimulated to the moon you could feel his cocky smile at your chest. And he didn't even consider slowing down at your plead, no he more seemed proud of himself making you so fucked out.

How is he fucking you like his life depended on it, couldn't he get tired? Every lasting slap! at your walls had you gasping for air, while he had to close his eyes at how your walls clamped down around him and sucked him back in.

Was this heaven?

"Are you close?" he was out of breath while he stopped sucking for just a second and you would be lying if you said you didn't want him to just continue.

"Yeah, please keep going."

"What did I say about b-begging?" he moaned again. " I'm getting closer myself. Where do you want it?"

And for some dumb reason you screamed-

"Inside!"

And he did. You felt the hot spurt inside you, filling you up, making you feel so full. And yet he didn't stop, no still helped you to reach your high.

And you couldn't help how his frantic hits against your core caused your toes to curl and your back to arch further than ever before as you’re slowly being brought closer to your tense, and awaited edge. “Cumming, cumming!”

"Yeah, just let go for me..." his voice was low amd his face suddenly no longer on your chest, but so close to your own. "Cum for me, pretty girl."

"Ooh... Ah!" it was almost embarrassing how hard you came. But you needed that at this day. Maybe it was far more embarrassing how you were asleep five seconds later.

"Fuck, baby, you are so beautiful..."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"Want a glass of water?"

Your eyes were still sticky, the last night not fully slept away. Where were you? This wasn't your own bed.

You sat up, but realizing that your head would spin and push you down before you could steady yourself. And as you looked up you saw him.

And you remembered what had happened yesterday.

"Wouldn't hurt." he answered himself and sat down next to your, heavy, heavy body and somehow lifted your back so you sat. Bringing the water to your lips.

"Drink so you don't throw up on me now."

You just obeyed him and sipped on the cold water, that went down your aching, dry throat so deliciously. You downed it in one sip.

"That's right." his hand went up and down your back soothing. "You and I had maybe too many drinks yesterday."

And then you realized the situation.

You were sitting here. On the bed of a stranger. With still no clothes on. As you drunkenly followed him into his apartment. What was wrong with your brain?

"Thank you." you took the glass from him. "I'm alright now."

He had that soft smile and something inside it punched you inside your gut.

"Alright I'm doing breakfast now." he stood up and looked amused as you hid yourself under his covers. "You can come when you're ready."

And like that he was out the door. Breathing began to be so much easier. You had to find a way out of here. And quickly, before this was becoming more awkward than it should.

What were you thinking yesterday? Fucking Gojo Satoru of all people? You just proved the point of your ex. You really were a slut.

Your things were all around the room, probably disgarded in the act yesterday. Picking them up and dressing yourself in them again felt nasty, like last night was sticking onto you.

You opened the door and looked around to see the exit. And there it was. The wardrobe with your shoes. You tiptoed there, softly.

"Leaving already?"

You turned around to a Gojo Satoru leaning against the doorframe of the supposed kitchen. He looked amused and had one eyebrow raised.

"Well, yeah... I completely forgot about it, but I have some things to do..." you fiddle with your shoes impatiently.

"Alright, should I bring you home?"

"NO!" You cleared your throat. "I mean- there is really no need."

He shrugged. "If you say so. But be safe and drink at home again."

You nodded and with that you were out.

You didn't remember your old one night stands to be that open and smily. No, they just told you how to leave and slept through the morning, while snoring.

Your phone vibrated inside of your bag. And you could see a message of a new number.

Satoru <333

Hey, get home safe!

Oh and we exchanged numbers yesterday, if you don't remember.

You couldn't help but feel guilty, but you left him on read. Why did he message you? Why was he so nice to you like he wanted to get to know you.

How could you tell him, that you just used him as a good fuck?

[le-monchou]

you dream of stars, so, for you, i climb the moon || leona kingscholar

"dreams in a new world could still stay the same, right?" you start randomly in the midst of cooking, leona's ears twitching to indicate he heard you. "there's nothing wrong with my dreams?"

"of course there ain't nothin' wrong with your dreams." leona rumbles somewhere nearby you, pausing to somewhat clumsily flip the pancakes he was making. "dreams are... stupid, naive, sometimes. but they're never wrong. what, did ya have some dumb dream?"

"no, nothing like that." you murmured, and the kitchen fell quiet again as the fires burned by your sides. "just thinking about how, when i was little, i really wanted to open a bakery. it was supposed to be all nice and cute, too, but then life happened."

"life happened." leona echoes, sort-of-agreeing with you before switching off the stove and taking off the tacky apron you bought him for an anniversary. "i guess that happens to everyone."

"but somewhere, i feel like im regetting not trying hard enough to go to culinary school or learn to cook from the neighbourhood street shops, you know? i could have started something within nrc but-"

"you could have done more, sure." leona starts, cutting you off with a sigh you could only describe as gentle, slow, lightly-treading to make sure he understood what you were trying to say fully. "but somethin' i saw when i visited cheka recently... is that we tend to be harder on ourselves despite knowing everything about the situations we were in. for example-" leona turns your around and shuts the gas, letting the stew simmer.

"let's say there's another kid who ends up in nrc like you, magicless and all, but there's no 'grim' they could have. and they did exactly what you did. would you blame them for crimes? for death?" you give him a look, gritting your teeth before answering with a resounding no. "not only were they forced into problems they knew nothing about, they would only be a child. that's your answer, right?"

"then why doesn't it apply to you? you were a child too. doesn't matter how old you actually were, you were younger than now, that's how time fucking works. some things are just always gonna be out of your control, but." leona pauses to take your hands in his and kiss your palms, warm from the stream of the stew. "if you dream of the stars, i'll climb the fucking moon for you to hang 'em there. so why don't you go and show me the bakery you wanna start, hmm?"

honestly this ended up more serious bc a lot of my american friends are panicking about the elections (not gonna blame them tbh it is a mess) but hopefully the leona-kissers in the us enjoy this for a bit!! 424 words tagging: @aivy-saur, @nemisisnemi, @fungifanart, @loser-jpg, @glidiaxoxo @puowei, @vauxxnm

[grapejuicestyless]

Stupid F-ing Tattoo

JJ Maybank x Fem!reader

Summery: Y/n and JJ both had a few things in common. One, love didn’t exist. And two, they both wanted her dead.

She wasn’t dead, but sometimes, he wished she was.

It was honestly fucked up, there was no silver lining. She hadn’t wronged him, or cheated, or lied. She was as guilty as a fish, and he was the shark. But he still wished she was dead.

Sometimes, JJ wondered if she wished the same thing. If some nights, if she ever were to by chance hear his laughter in a passing moment, maybe with his head hung out the back window of the Twinkie like she used to do, or in a lazy jog away from the cops, he wondered if she wished he would also, drop off the face of the earth to give her some peace.

Then he would remember that even though it didn’t feel like it, he had won. Because she had no peace, and he was certain she never would. While he was up all night wishing her to be gone, she was up all night praying for the same thing.

She often told him that the only things keeping her going were him and her dog, but mostly her dog. An old white dog, a stray she’d taken in when she was merely seven. He was as crusty as they get, and while he and his friends often joked about how gross the old thing was, she happily scratched behind his ears and reminded him of how good he was always.

But the dog was getting old, and JJ had long been extracted from her life. Sometimes he wondered if his prayers meant something, and then he would get on his knees and take them all back in a guilty sob. Because JJ didn’t want her to die, he just hated the fact that he had fallen in love with someone who couldn’t fathom love more than he ever doubted it.

JJ felt like an asshole. What kind of person prays for another persons death? Especially someone like her?

He figured he liked her so much because they were so alike. Like the seasons, they were the coolest winters and the sweltering summer all at once. They were so close, yet so far. Like January and December. Born with the same love and loyalty, but destined to fall apart, prophets forced to be divided.

His finger hovered over her contact every night, but every time he thought of how she would answer, and his tongue would go dry. She would probably only say hello, and he would say it back, and the line would go quiet for a few minutes, just breathing in each others inhales, aligning his breath to hers, and then she would ask him why he was calling. He would say he didn’t know, but he hoped she was well, and she would wish the same for him because she always did, and she always meant it more because she never wished that he was dead. Then, she would ask if it was okay to let him go, and he would ramble about something and how it was all dumb to begin with. She would listen and then the line would go dead. Dead like how he sometimes wanted her.

He couldn’t bear the idea of letting her go again, even if he didn’t realize he had the first time.

They had just gotten matching tattoos. “P4L” poked into their ankles until the skin swelled red and even air burned. They were fucked, and it was a dumb idea.

JJ said it was the stupidest fucking tattoo he’d ever gotten. She had laughed, playfully pushing his arm away and setting the needle down.

“You don’t have any other tattoos.” She reminded him softly, eyes shining in the moonlight. The twinkles reminded him of the north star, and he felt that he too found home in the same way.

“Not yet.” He promised her, his fingers slotting between hers. “I’m gonna get your name tattooed right across my palm so I can hold you eternity.” JJ smiled, proud at his use of larger words. He’d felt like a poet then, smiling from ear to ear at himself, a dork by textbook definition.

“Well, then I’m going to get your name tattooed on my lips, so I have every reason to talk about you.” She promised him, and JJ remembered the look in her eyes, he knew it from the way John B looked at Sarah and the way Pope’s dad looked at his mom. He knew it was love.

He should never have confessed it.

He knew better than anyone that her mothers neglect had beaten her heart black and blue, and her cousins hatred towards her and her friends who had bullied her, he knew that much like him, love was a construct of some sort of fantasy, a promise of forever that could never be fulfilled, because eventually, someone has to leave.

She laughed, and then she cried. She promised JJ that she also loved him, loved him like a dog loved its owner, unwavering and loyal. But there was no way in hell she could ever love him the ways he wanted, and that hurt JJ because he had spent weeks working up the courage to even come to terms with his very real feelings.

“I can’t love you, JJ. I do, but I can’t because I can’t even promise myself that forever. I’ll break my own heart and I’ll blame you.” She had explained with tears streaming down her face. He regretted the way he yelled at her.

They never spoke again. His best friend, and the love of his life, her voice became a concept in his mind, and he swore that he had forgotten the sweetness of her smell. He hated that because that meant he was just like everyone else. Just another person who would miss her when she went.

So, he started wishing death on her. More for himself, until it became a prayer for her. She never laughed anymore, never smiled. When he saw her from afar, he’d noticed that she’d gone back to her friends she hated because suffering is better than loneliness when all you can think about is the quickest way to go.

He saw a girl floating in the ocean the a few days into the summer, her hair resembled Y/n’s and her eyes did too. It was only when he saw the way she seemed to fold herself into the water he knew it was her because only she would have the drive to try and let the ocean swallow her whole.

JJ ran as fast as he could out, wading through the crashing waves until he could wrap his arms around her. She was wet, cold, and limp. A hollow version of the woman she once was. It reminded JJ that she was just a girl, the same age as him, and he once again, felt guilty for ever wishing death on her.

When he laid her in the sand, he knew two things.

One, on her skin, she had another small tattoo scribbled down to memorize her love forever. His name, just two little letters, the same one, poked into her shoulder in the same font as their matching tattoo.

“Stupid fucking tattoo.” He cried, gritting his teeth together, his hands searching her body for any warmth he could cling to, a sign that maybe he hadn’t seen her too late.

The second thing he knew, through his salty tears and guilty heart, was something he prayed he would never have to witness, but something he had always wished for.

His prayers had been answered.

[theonlymanny]

Bruce Wayne x Batdad Reader!

Being Bruce’s husband wasn’t as easy as you thought there were a lot of difficulties in your life while being married to him.But it was all good he loved and you loved him. Simply as that, you guys met because you where a famous singer and met at one of his galas.

At first he was all flirty and honoring his playboy persona. You didn’t show any interest at first because who doesn’t flirt with M/n. But Bruce was kind of charming and really nice. Beside everything you heard from him. And then you woke beside him in bed. “Oh my fucking-” anyway- let’s leave that behind.

After that night you thought he would leave you like it never happened and keep going on with his life, but surprisingly he invited you on a date. A couple years later you met Alfred a really nice person and enjoyed your company. And all of that disappeared because your 5 year boyfriend left you without a word for 10 fuckin years.

“Hey Alfred have you heard from Bruce I didn’t see him today” “oh master M/n… I thought you knew…” after that you promised to never trust anyone that easily, sure it affected you but you weren’t going to stop and be miserable. You decided to take out some new songs.

“M/N is back!” Your fans were going crazy! Everybody thought you quit the music career and left. And… Bruce well not like he didn’t care about you he just wanted to make a change. He was training to protect you and Alfred. And then he was there your “boyfriend” you were spending time with Alfred. You weren’t going to leave him alone for 10 whole years!

“H- hi umm…” Bruce looked at you. He looked much muscular and old… “ Alfred I think I should go…” you took your things and while you were about to open the door Bruce grabbed your hand. “Don’t you-” “please let me explain…” you lost right there “what Bruce!? Explain that you left me for 10 years!” Bruce was shocked. He remembered you much calmer and shy.

You let him explain why he leaved you. Because you were still young you gave him another opportunity. Some years later you met Richard or Dick who you protected with your life and refused to let him be robin. “Sweetheart please…” you refused to look at him “Bruce it’s too dangerous for a literal kid to be fighting grown ass men or women who want to hurt him!” Dick heard your discussion somewhat regretting he asked Bruce to be his sidekick. You saw Dick on the corner wanting to cry… “oh… Richard why are you crying?” “I’m sorry… I didn’t want you to fight I I- just wanted to help.” You sighed “I’m not sure if I’m going to regret this but… I guess you can go help Bruce…” Bruce smiled and Dick celebrated and hugged you. “Thank you!” You looked at Bruce and said darkly“Bruce if something happens you are going to regret being Batman” Bruce only laughed and hugged both of you.

After some years Dick grew older and became a teenager. “Hey Dick what do you want to eat today?” Dick really grew trust in you that he called you dad first than Bruce. “Dunno dad maybe some pancakes??” And while Dick and Bruce were patrolling Bruce found Jason a young boy trying to steal the Batmobile’s tires.

Jason really liked you he had a better relationship with you then Bruce or Dick. He would often ask you to read him books. It was like that until that day… Joker captured Jason. “hey Bruce!” When you went to the bat cave you only found Dick and Bruce. “Where’s Jason?” You were more then devastated when he died.

You and Bruce barely spoke, Dick tried to make you both love each other again, but he couldn’t even make you both sleep in the same bed. After 1 or 2 years Bruce decided to adopt another kid. Tim. That’s when you started thinking about divorce.

“Really!? Another kid you wanna harm this one too?” You started loosing respect from Bruce, but there was nothing you could do he was so stubborn.

In those years that Tim became and trained to be a robin. You also trained… to kill the guy that took your son. You learned how to use every weapon you had on your use, you where stronger and faster, and learned a lot of fight movements.

The day you heard your third son was captured… you didn’t let Bruce handle this. You went there by yourself with a shotgun,gun, rifle, a lot of more utensils that would help you get your son back.

The building was quiet there was no sign of life but only lifeless body’s all around you opened the door and automatically shot the Joker on his knee. “Aaaaaaaaah!” He screamed in agony while watching you above him. “Tim… go.” Tim looked at you and before he left he hugged you. “It will be okay…” after you made sure he left you grabbed a metal pipe and left the Joker on a wall. “Hahahahahahah! Let me guess you are going to kill me! WOW I’m so scared!” You looked at him angrily and hit him with the metal pipe. “ SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He spat blood all over the floor. “Batsy is not gonna let you kill me” he laughed quietly. “Well guess what… I will make sure he doesn’t interfere. And I my self will make sure you don’t take anyone else’s kid again” Joker looked confused but then realized. “You are robins Dad! Batman’s husband!” That name hurted you… “well guess what it was so fun I don’t regret it.” He was pushing your limits. You started breathing loudly and one by one you killed the man that killed your kid.

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Hey yall! I think this was my longest post but I hope y’all like it. I leaved a tlou reference In there. That’s all! There might be part 2 tho.

[filmbyjy]

ONE NOTE

SYNOPSIS > When you turned 18, you heard your best friend’s favourite song. Turns out, it was just one of the various signs to finding your soulmate. However, you couldn’t bring this up to jake. Not when he was in a happy relationship with your other best friend! Would you choose heartbreak or sacrifice your happiness for the sake of keeping the friendship?

THIRTY-ONE – family drama

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

WC: 3.1K words

a/n: this is a word vomit😍 hence why I took longer to write it. had multiple mental breakdowns whilst doing this and my college projects🥰 anyways I said it would be 2K worth of words but it’s more💀

receiving those messages from aria’s mom made you realise that humanity was definitely screwed ever since humans decided that they wanted to be the ‘king of the jungle’. how was 50 year old woman threatening a 22 year old man? you knew you had to tell jake. this was for your safety and the others safety too but, you couldn’t lie, the curiosity of finding out as to why aria was acting up and also why she didn’t have a soulmate was itching all over you.

of course, her behaviour could’ve easily stemmed from her childhood. this is how usually murderers and serial killers even start their dark path. trauma. you sighed and turned to look around your college dorm. small but cozy, perfect to fit 3-4 girls. so when aria got admitted and possibly also kicked from the school, you’d assume you were staying with just yvette and mae.

the door opens and shuts, there were shuffling noises at the front door. you didn’t bother to look, it was probably the girls or jake. marsh decides to inspect the sound at the front door. you heard her little mewls and a deep voice that followed after. once you had looked up, you noticed it was jake. he held up marsh on his shoulder, carrying her.

“hey, what’s up? why were you staring at the white cement wall?” jake says. you didn’t say anything, you were practically looking at him from head to toe. his jet black hair that was recently grown out so that it was longer. the denim jacket that he always wore and was so famously known for around the campus. his lips, full and plump as it can ever be. “okay, now you’re staring at me. there is definitely something wrong.”

“aria’s mom texted me.” you had admitted. jake frowns. “and before you say anything, she just texted me to ask you to go to some location. i’m not allowed to go.”

“well, that’s good she didn’t ask you to follow. i wouldn’t have allowed you to come with anyways. i don’t want to get you hurt.”

you could see the sadness in jake’s eyes, it was heartbreaking. you knew he was just confused more than ever. he didn’t know why everything was so complicated with aria when in fact it should be over. why was her mother involved with this somehow?

“how about i get sunghoon to hide somewhere so that you wont be alone?” you had asked. jake shook his head. he lets marsh down from his arms and she scurries off to the other rooms.

“i don’t want to harm any of you. besides, sunghoon has already been through it.” jake explains. you had huffed.

“and? stop pretending to be strong and nonchalant. 2 guys is better than one.” you could hear jake sighing.

“i’ve hurt you guys and especially you for so long. i don’t want to be a burden and ask you guys to-”

you were quick to cut jake off quickly, “a burden? jake, just cause you blew us off for years and became a jerk because of aria doesn’t mean you were a burden. we still cared about you. we didn’t think you were a nuisance. the only reason why we weren’t as close as back then was because of aria.”

“i know.”

“then if you knew, you’d let us help you.”

“you guys have helped me multiple times and i…i’ve just ruined our friendship for 6 whole years.” it was clear jake was about to breakdown. his eyes were starting to get glossy, the waver in his voice. the way he chokes on his own words. you did what you could only think of and went over to give him a hug.

jake accepts it. his arms snuggling right above your waist. his head parked right at the crook of your neck, you start to feel small droplets of tears fall onto your skin. jake sobs in your arms. in all your years of knowing him (since you were kids), jake was never the type to cry. this was the first time you were seeing him cry and you could feel the intensity of those feelings. was it the soulmate bond? you couldn’t bare to let him go, you had to let him cry on your shoulder.

when mae and yvette walked through the front door after 10 minutes of jake sobbing, you had gestured for them to pretend they didn’t see anything. they quickly got the note and pretended that they didn’t see anything. they both went to their respective rooms. you had rubbed jake’s back and he only seemed to tighten the hug like you were going to disappear from his grip.

“hey, i won’t leave you. i’m here.” you whispered in his ears softly, comforting him as best as possible.

once he had calmed down, he couldn’t look back up at you. he was embarrassed to have cried. you placed a finger under his chin. his eyes were slightly swollen, wet tears down his cheek. yet, he still looked effortlessly good looking. the universe really has their faves. “don’t be afraid to cry in front of me and be vulnerable. i’ve cried in front of you a bunch so you don’t have to feel embarrassed to do the same.”

he nods, looking in your eyes. there was something in the air. the tension was different. you feel jake moving closer slightly. his head tilting a little as his focus shifts from your eyes to your lips. you held in a breath watching him do so. however, the kiss never happens because mae yelled out loud when jake was just about to land his lips right on yours.

her hands were covering her eyes. “fuck! i’m so sorry!!” she apologises quickly before turning and running towards yvette’s room.

both you and jake turned to look at each other and laughed. that was one way to break the tension. moving onto later at night, you, yvette, mae and jake planned a big plan for what was going to go down tomorrow. it was a perfect plan that would be executed well.

jake’s guide to not getting murdered/kidnapped

1. make sure sunghoon is around and sneaking whilst hearing everything so that he could report to us. back up: jay

2. if aria’s mom ties jake up, keep something sharp in pocket that doesn’t look suspicious. you went to join boy’s scout at like 10, you should remember how to untie a rope dumbass

3. have the upper hand, never let your guard down

4. that’s about it. don’t get killed

as the sun rises, so do you. you had barely gotten any sleep. after creating the plan, you were up all night coming up clothing/dress ideas for your course. it was hard. you could barely think. especially since you kept thinking about that almost kiss. god, that really kept you up at night.

jake had woken up and his groans as he wakes up. the sun glaring right into his eyes. he sits right up and tugs on the curtain. the darkness consumes his room and he lays right back in bed. however, just as jake was on the brink of falling asleep again, the smell of eggs slips under his door. he shots up and practically lets the door fly open. he goes to the kitchen to inspect the smell and he was definitely greeted with the sexiest thing in the morning. you were in a messy bun, oversized shirt and pyjama shorts. this should be the most domestic thing ever but he felt his heart racing.

he goes closer. you were busy with the eggs that you didn’t notice jake. there were arms wrapping around your waist and then a deep sleepy voice whispers in your ears. “morning.” it sends shivers down your spine.

“m-morning. why are you up so early?”

“could smell the eggs from my room so i got up and went here.”

“it’s just eggs.” you explained.

“and pancakes. something you always made back then when i stayed over at your home for a sleepover.” jake says. it was true, he used to always sleepover as his parents were quite busy with their business. your parents always held out with open arms for jake whenever he was home alone. hence, most of the time he stayed over.

“we were 12 when i made for eggs and pancakes. it didn’t even taste that great. i think i burnt the pancakes a little.”

“well, i thought you did great at 12 years old.” you deadpanned at jake’s words.

“you always told me it was bad.”

“when have i?”

“are you trying to gaslight me?” jake leans closer. your breath hitches.

“no. i’m not trying to gaslight you. i just want to say my true feelings at 12 years old. you were great at making eggs and pancakes back then even if they were crispy.” he adds. you picked up the spatula and showed it to him, ready to hit him with it. he laughs and apologises.

there was a buzz on jake’s phone while you were eating breakfast and chatting but jake didn’t seem to care. he didn’t even acknowledge it so once he went to wash the dishes, you had peaked into his phone.

messages from an unknown number. definitely aria’s mom.

“you don’t have to care about that. i’ll be safe. don’t worry.” jake says.

picture this, you were looking right up at jake as he was standing right behind you. at this rate, you might as well recreate that one famous spiderman kiss. which is exactly why jake leaned in and placed his lips right on yours. you could feel your lungs start to feel lighter. like you were healing from your hanahaki. jake felt like this was right, kissing you felt right. it had fit into the puzzle. your hands reached up to cup jake’s face but he pulls back slightly. there was a slight pout on your lips that you had unconsciously did.

“don’t pout. i want to kiss you more but your neck is going to hurt if i continue kissing you like that.”

“you don’t find this romantic?”

“it is romantic but i want to properly kiss you.” jake says. you could feel your face heat up.

jake’s phone starts ringing. “you should pick it up.” you say. jake nods. he lightly places a peck on your forehead before picking it up.

you had to sit there processing what happened.

did you just kiss sim jaeyun?

“i saw that little stunt, young lady.” yvette’s voice brings you out of your trance. you had jolted a little and sighed in relief when you realised who it was.

“what stunt?” yvette deadpans at your words.

“don’t lie to me. you and jake did a spiderman kiss. gurl, are you that desperate for his dick. be honest.” she folds her arms. your eyes widened. you could feel your face turn warmer.

“no. why would i-”

“if girls had boners, you’d be having one right now.” yvette casually says. you were stunned.

“yvette, why do you have to say it so vulgarly.” mae says as she appears from her bedroom. she yawns. “if jake and (name) wanna have sex, then they could after all. they are soulmates.”

“i don’t want to fuc-”

“she’s not allowed to. jake still needs to prove that he is good enough for her. after all, 6 years of royally fucking up their super close friendship. almost killing her by plain out rejecting her. rude. i can list more of what happened through out these 30 episodes.” yvette explains. mae sighs, she pats your shoulder.

“you’re on your own (name).”

you had groaned. “it was just one kiss. we aren’t doing anything more than that. i am still waiting for jake to make it up to me.”

“but you’re slowly giving in. i get it, he’s your soulmate. it’s hard to say no and wait but like think about yourself. will you?”

“i know, i know. i’m thinking about myself and i will continue to do so. this was my one moment of weakness, okay? 13 year old me would be so happy.” you had huffed. yvette pinches your cheeks.

“look at you. you’re a simp. this is exactly why jake was your chosen soulmate. you two are simps that it’s gross.”

you rolled your eyes. it gets silent in the house. no chattering from jake in the other room. weird. you had stood up and went over to check up on him but he wasn’t there. oh crap. you had picked up your phone and dialed for sunghoon.

“hello?” sunghoon says.

“jake left to see aria’s mom.”

“already? goddamn it. let me leave now and maybe i can hide somewhere there.”

“alright, be safe.”

“i will.”

the call quickly ends and you had ran to the bathroom to bathe and get ready for the possible scariest time of your life. once you were done, you had ran to put on your shoes. yvette holds you back.

“hey, calm down.”

“i can’t. what if aria’s mom hurts jake?”

“she won’t after all. aria’s dad is the principal of a prestigious school. she can’t ruin his career.”

“we don’t know how crazy she can be.”

“sunghoon will be there. mae also called jay to be the backup. they’ll be there and we can be assured that jake will be safe.” yvette says. you didn’t know what to say or do because you were worried.

“don’t worry. let’s just trust jake. he’ll handle it.” mae places a hand on your shoulder.

“i hope so.” were the only the things you could say.

as for jake, he was busy walking towards a neighbourhood. the address led him to a gated community just like aria’s home however, he would’ve recognised aria’s home easily. he always found it weird that aria has never brought him to her house even in the 6 years they were dating.

‘what a weirdo’, jake thought. he didn’t want to associate himself to aria anymore though. there was no point, after all. he made it right onto the property. in a way, it looked like a witches’ castle. that is until an older man opens the door, he looked sophisticated. a little confused as to who jake was.

“who are you?” he asks. “my apologies, sounds a little rude to say so.”

at least whoever this guy was, he was nice.

“oh, umm. my name is jake. i was im aria’s boyfriend.” jake explains. the man’s eyes widened.

“oh, i’ve heard about you from aria. i am her dad.”

‘so much for the genes not coming from him. aria is not like him at all’, jake thought. he smiles slightly. “oh umm, mrs.im asked me to come over. she wanted to talk about something.”

as soon as jake mentions about aria’s mom, mr.im starts frowning. “she’s in the room. let me go get her. i’m assuming she wants to talk to you about our family.” mr.im pushes the door wider to let jake in. he enters the space. mr.im goes to get mrs.im. after a couple of minutes, aria’s mom appears. she walks down the stairs in her…fur coat(?)

‘crazy woman.’ jake thought as he eyes her down.

she smirks. “ah, jake. welcome to my home. the place where everything is perfect.” she dramatically says.

‘uh huh sure. everything is totally perfect. aria is equally as insane as you are, old woman. acting like a disney villain.’

mr.im rolls his eyes. “why don’t you sit down. the maids will prepare for you to drink something.” he tells jake. jake goes to settle down on the couch. mrs.im eyes mr.im, it seems like their marriage was not all that perfect.

mrs.im settles down on the seat. she sits down like a fine royal woman. however, she clearly isn’t. mr.im rolls his eyes once again.

“since you’re here now, jake. i must ask, why did you have to send our daughter to the mental institution? when she’s clearly fine.” she folds her arm.

“she’s not fine. i can assure you, the people at the mental institution will sort out her feelings and thoughts.” jake explains. mrs.im sighs.

“our daughter was fine before she met you. maybe you two should’ve broken up 6 years ago. you put us in so much trouble.”

“i know i should’ve after all, i have my own reasons as to why i should’ve left.” jake says.

“like what? falling in love with your soulmate? that’s utter nonsense. me and mr.im weren’t soulmates. we simply loved each other so much that we broke our soulmate bonds with our assigned soulmates.”

jake’s jaw drops. mr.im pinches the bridge of his nose.

“how many times do i have to tell you, i never wanted to marry in the first place. we both killed our soulmates by getting married! our daughter was also cursed to not have a soulmate because of your wrongdoings!” mr.im yells. mrs.im rolls her eyes.

“i didn’t kill my soulmate. you did. you wanted this as much as i did.” she fires back. jake watches them go back and forth. it starts to filter out as he processes what exactly was the reason why aria didn’t have a soulmate.

“then what? you go to her grave every single time during her death anniversary. for what? guilt?” mrs.im says.

“i’m doing it out of love. something that a heartless person like you doesn’t have.” mr.im answers.

these were all just family drama but certainly good information. jake didn’t want to intrude further. he had to leave. this was wrong. hence, he slowly stood up and stepped back, leaving the house quietly.

this explains why aria didn’t know what a soulmate was. she doesn’t have a tied soulmate to her. all because of the curse that her mom had started. now all the generations after aria wouldn’t be able to have a soulmate. her kids wouldn’t grow up with a soulmate tied to them. this was a big news. a news he had to break to you and everyone else.

once he leaves the place, sunghoon pops out the shrubs.

“oh fuck.” jake jumps back. sunghoon snickers and pats his shoulder.

“heard something huge?” he asks. jake sighs.

“very huge family drama. i’ll tell you and the others when we get back.” the shrubs moved again. jay falls out of it. he groans.

“i am never playing spy again.”

“don’t worry, we aren’t ever going to do it again. jake has the tea. let’s go back.” sunghoon smacks jay’s shoulder. jay winces.

as they walked out from the gated community, jake’s arms went around both jay’s and sunghoon’s shoulder. it seems like their friendship never had a problem.

taglist[closed]: @sumzysworld @mitmit01 @moon3verland @baribaaari @byty2k @alex-is-sleeping @viagumi @txtlyn @belovedsthings @woninluv @dreamiestay @niniissus @kyutiepeachy @yoongisbaguetteshoes @squiishymeow @jjaammm @enhaz1 @illvding @woniejjang @bee-the-loser @laurradoesloveu @ckline35 @ningx2stan @hoonlvly @clampclover @xyzyx01 @victoriasimm @eneiyri @nshmrarki @woorcve @bubblytaetae @i03jae @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @l1wv00n @onlyhyunjin @kyanmeai @isa942572 @lisaswifey @alisonyus @firstclassjaylee @szkstay @enhamysunshines @milanco @hsbae @zyvlxqht @lixiebokie @wth121 @enahasblog @gongiz @anuisamazing @heestrawberries @gyehyeonist @heelovesmeknot @silquids

VOTE HERE for my next smau!

[strangelysamantha]

doubt ☆

steve harrington x reader.

summary: after witnessing what he thinks is a friendly interaction between you and your ex billy, steve is left with a lot of doubt.

a/n: my master list is pinned on my page :). like and comment if you enjoy! i want to write stories you guys like, so please interact so i can keep the stories coming!! 🩷🖤

—————————————-————————

billy was right in front of you, his voice low. "look, i know we aren't supposed to be talking right now, but i had to see you." you stare at him, “i don’t really have any interest in talking to you.” he leans forward, “i know i hurt you. just please talk to me.” you frown, “what is there to talk about?” you hesitate, already nervous to even be standing in the same room as him. “i hate the way things ended. i just needed to see you one last time.”

you cross your arms unamused. “look i get that. but you ruined your chance with me the moment you fucked a random girl.” he sighs, his eyes pooling with sadness. “i know. i just needed some closure.” you roll your eyes at that, “well you won’t be finding that with me. you messed up billy.” he shakes his head. “i made a mistake, okay? i regret it, and im really sorry.” you look behind you, before glancing at him again. "billy, what's done is done. we can’t anymore, i’m sorry." you shake your head, attempting to leave the room. he grits his teeth, immediately grabbing your wrist. he squeezes deeply, making sure you can’t walk away.

steve just so happened to be walking by your third period class when he saw you standing next to billy. he couldn’t see your face entirely, but billy had a nasty smirk hung on his lips. he looked down and noticed that billy was holding your wrists. his stomach had a giant pit, his mind starting to rush with twisted imagery of you and billy. he had your voice in the back of his head, reassuring him that you wanted nothing to do with him. but seeing how close you two were standing only fueled the negative thoughts.

you remove your wrists out of his grasp, an ache starting to form, “i’m done here. i don’t know what you expected from me.” you look down, uncomfortable by the whole interaction. billy glances behind you and notices steve watching the interaction unfold. he knew he could use this to his advantage. he leans forward to whisper in your ear, the sight of this makes steve sick and he immediately rushes to the nearest bathroom.

“cmon, just one more time for old time’s sake?” he chuckles, you groan in disgust; “never in a million years.” with that you leave the empty room; heading to your next class. you wanted to tell steve about everything but you weren’t going to see him until lunch. the next two classes went unbearably slow, and it didn’t help that billy had ruined your entire mood.

at lunch you were cheerfully looking for steve. you missed him, and you only had so much time before you had to return to sitting in a boring classroom. you couldn’t find him in the building so you assumed he went out to his car. you left the school, quickly trying to make it to steve’s car.

you found him in the car, his eyes puffy with tear stains. your heart broke at the sight, you tried opening the door but it was locked. you knocked on the window attempting to get him to let you in, but you noticed he hesitated. you frown, confusion washing over you. you knock again, and he unlocks the car. you quickly hop in the car, pulling him into a hug. “what’s wrong stevie?” his heart pangs at the nickname, now feeling worse than when he was just alone. “nothing, i’m just stressed.” his lack of communication was new to you, usually he’d tell you everything, immediately, half the time you wouldn’t even have to ask.

“please talk to me.” you sigh, your hand resting on his knee. he looks down and noticed your wrists were red and discolored. “what happened?” you follow his eyes to your wrist, you awkwardly look around, “billy tried talking to me earlier. i kept telling him to leave me alone, and when i tried to leave he grabbed my wrists forcing me to stay put.” you frown now, “i just hate him. the way he acts like he’s above everyone. he can’t just get whatever he wants.”

steve half smirks, “you mean, whoever?” you lightly slap his shoulder, “i guess..” you drag out the last word rolling your eyes. “steve i so badly would have rather spent those 5 minutes with you. he honestly ruined my day.” you look back up at steve and remember what you had walked into. “but can we talk about you? what happened?”

he chuckles, wiping his tears. “well i kinda feel silly now.” you tilt your head, “why? what do you mean?” he sighs, “i saw you and billy talking. in that moment i figured it was mutual; like you guys were secretly meeting up.” your mouth opens in shock, “steve! no way would i ever willingly talk to billy.” he nods, “i know that now. i just wasn’t expecting it.” you look into steves eyes, your hand reaching for his. “i want to be yours steve. i want nothing to do with billy.” he grins, “so can i beat him up for putting his hands on you?” you scratch the back of you neck, “not trying to be mean, but your fighting track record isn’t the greatest…” he scoffs, obviously offended. “i need to protect you though.”

“thank you steve. and in any other circumstance i’d love for you to defend me and protect me, but with billy it’s different.” steve furrowed his brows so you continue, “if you provoke him it’ll get worse, he’ll know he’s getting under your skin. i don’t want to deal with him.” steve unfortunately understands and knows your right. “it would be nice though to teach him a lesson.” you smile at the idea of steve humiliating billy. “maybe one day, if he continues to egg us on, but for now can we just forget about him?” steve agrees.

you pull steve into a kiss, then you pull away to kiss his cheeks. “you’re just so cute steve.” he blushes at your words, avoiding your gaze. “i’m sorry for making you think that about billy.” he shakes his head, “it’s my fault. i should have trusted you better, i just let him get in my head.” you notice the time and realized your lunch break was almost over. “we have like no time left.” you frown. “wanna skip?” you bite your lip, contemplating his offer. “hmm why not?” he laughs, “yes! let’s go to mine, yeah?” you nod, “that sounds good!”

you lean back in your seat, your eyes glued to steve. he was so handsome and sexy. “i can’t believe steve harrington got jealous over me.” he laughs, “hey im sorry but i like you so now everyone you talk to will be judged by me.” you fight a smile, “as long as i end up with you at the end of the day, you can judge anyone you want.” he reaches over his free hand grabbing your thigh. “we need to ice those wrists.” you nod, “dr steve will you heal me?” he brings your wrist to his lips, “of course i will, baby.”

when you make it to steve’s he quick to get you settled. he changes you into one of his shirts, he gets you two bags of ice, and he even offered to take your shoes off when you arrived. you were so thankful for steve. “thank you for everything.” he sets up a movie. he pulls you into a hug, before cuddling you on the couch. “anything for you.”

[willsimpforanyone]

Hello! I'm not sure if you are taking requests right now, but I'd you are could you do something with a daughter of medusa who us almost or fully blind and everyone avoids her except for percy who has a crush on her? Can end however ypu would like :).

And remember to take of yourself and drink water!!! ❤️

thank u my lovely <3 hope u enjoy

i do have bad vision but i am not blind, so i apologise for inaccuracies,

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

medusa was blessed with a daughter

gorgeously thick, curly hair, strong as hell, brought up by your mother as best she could

she was so happy when you opened your eyes as a baby and no one you looked at turned to stone

her curse was not yours!

it only took a moment for her to realise her curse had a different effect on you

you were not cursed, but as a side effect of being medusa's child, you were almost completely blind

growing up, you never realised there was anything too different about you

why would you? your mother raised you and she kept her eyes covered most of the time, she knew how to live as a blind woman in a seeing world

things got worse as you got older, and around 10 years old is when it got really bad

the monsters were relentless, and even medusa hiding you away didn't seem to help with the nightmares

so, when you were 12, she brought you to the camp

chiron was hesitant, but knew you meant no harm - you were a scared, lonely kid, like so many others before you

kinda for the first time, you were interacting with people who could see

it wasn't hard to guess who your mother was, and apparently that was enough for the other kids to reject you immediately

you learned to wear sunglasses or some kind of fabric over your eyes, otherwise some kid would start screaming

the first couple years of teenhood were rough

of course. you learned to live with it

you learned to become incredibly spacially aware, to be able to walk into a room and know exactly how many people there were and where they were standing

there were some kids who were alright, some from the athena cabin were civil despite their mom being the one who cursed yours

occasionally, though, there was a kid called percy

a son of posiden, who you were suitably wary enough of (again, considering the story)

he came to camp a little before you did, and was off on a quest when you actually arrived

it was an odd introduction

"hi, i'm percy, i kinda killed your mom"

you had shrugged, fingers still trailing over the book in front of you

"i know. she sent me an iris message from the underworld. it's not the first time someone's killed her, she'll be back in a few days"

the silence that followed was one of awkward expectation, and you snorted a laugh. "dude, chill out, i don't care anymore"

he'd hesitantly accepted your acceptance and had left, and you'd thought that would be the end of it

to your surprise, he would come back and talk

a friendship blossomed over the next couple years, something that was new to you

you genuinely liked him

he didn't ask questions about being blind all the time, he didn't scream when your sunglasses slipped down your nose, he seemed to automatically let you know what he was doing and where he was in your space

with him came grover, the somewhat nervous satyr who calmed down once annabeth, percy's other friend, slapped the back of his head when he asked if your hair was just a bunch very thin snakes

this was more friends than you'd had in your life, and it was kind of incredible

annabeth got some books in greek braille, and together you discovered that it was easier for you to read - the ancient greek hardwire was still very much present in your brain, even if you couldn't see the letters

percy, however, went the extra mile every time

every activity you were hesitant about, he was right there with you, describing the new areas, offering to help but never touching you or giving advice unless you asked first

any time something changed with the camp, whether it was a part of the forest or the layout of the camp itself, he'd go with you to explore the differences to change the mental map you had in your head

late nights were reserved for sitting together around a campfire, maybe with grover and annabeth, maybe not

but they were a time for you to ask questions instead

what colour were the new swords? what does bronze look like? is the red of the strawberries as sweet as they taste?

he would answer as best he can, trying to explain from every angle, like trying not to use other colours to explain another colour

one night, in your fourth year of camp, you got up the courage to ask him the question you'd been wanting to ask him forever

"percy? what do i look like?"

there was a pause, and you knew he had turned to look at you by the rustling of his hair

...a minute passes, and you shift in your seat

"you don't have to tell me, it's fine, forget i asked-"

"no!"

he interrupts you, blurting out a protest a little louder than he intended

he continues, clearing his throat

"no, i just- would it be okay if you took your sunglasses off? so i can give you the best description?"

in answer, you slipped off your sunglasses, hanging them in the neck of your t-shirt

all you could see was a faint warm, orange-yellow glow from the fire

percy takes a breath

"okay, here goes- you're beautiful. i-i know that isn't much but... you look warm. like the feeling of coming back to our cabin at the end of a really good day, tired but happy, and everything is quiet and calm and cosy and you know you're gonna sleep so good. you look like sunsets over the sea, like someone has managed to set the horizon on fire but, y'know. less dangerous than setting fire to things."

you laugh, subconsciously leaning against his shoulder with your heart trying to keep pace with the butterflies in your stomach

"yeah? i look warm?"

his voice is almost a whisper

"right now, yeah. the firelight is reaching out over the grass to touch you, preferring to have you warm than the trees around us. if we were regular teenagers, we could be telling scary stories"

i rest my hand, palm up, on his knee, a silent way of telling him to give me his hand

he does so, and i link our fingers together tightly, a 'thank you' that we don't need to hear

"percy?"

"yeah?"

"what do you look like right now?"

another pause, and he squeezes my fingers gently

"i think... right now, i look like i'm completely in love with you"

my head lifts from his shoulder, head turned to him as if i need to hear him better, like we aren't side to side, holding hands

"you... what?"

he breathes a shaky laugh, and i feel his hand move to pause just over my cheek

"sorry, that wasn't a great description, but i couldn't think of anything else to say. can i put my hand on your cheek?"

slowly, i nod, feeling his warm palm settle against my skin, his thumb brushing over my cheek

"please say no if you don't want me to," he whispers, voice nervous but also filled with hope

"but can i please kiss you?"

i don't need to be able to see to know how big he smiles when i say "yes"

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

i hope that was okay? i tried my best, if anyone has an issue with it or wants me to correct something, let me know!

[beanarie]

here's another scene for the fic i posted a day or two ago. alternate title: rip philip buckley.

the messenger part two

"I don't want to go," Evan said.

Tommy glanced up from the flight listings on his tablet. Since finishing his delayed shower (alone), Evan had perched on the far end of the bed with his back turned. "All anyone there knew was a nineteen year-old who failed at everything. It- It was never home."

Tommy put the tablet aside. "Evan, I don't give a shit if you go or not." That was blunt even for him, bordering on cruel, but Evan gave a watery laugh. He heard what Tommy didn't say. You're the only thing I care about. Make the decision that's right for you.

Evan made a sad sound and crawled into Tommy's arms. "She's going to be so much," he grated out, his head against Tommy's chest. It wasn't comfortable. Evan ran warm as a baseline. Tonight he felt like he had a fever. "I don't think I can handle it. But I can't- I can't do that to Maddie. What kind of garbage person would make her deal with that alone?"

Tommy ran his fingers through Evan's damp hair. "Maddie won't be alone." Her husband was literally one of the best people Tommy had ever met. Howie had grabbed her hands the instant she and Evan had separated, and hadn't let go of her the entire time. He'd still been holding on when they'd left, Evan bringing up the rear toting a sleeping Jee-Yun.

"Not the same," Evan said, which was true, but Tommy didn't care, not right then.

Tommy looked over at his buzzing phone. "Listen-"

Evan didn't shake. He vibrated, a low level hum throughout his body. "Just let me pretend for a minute that we're not going."

"Okay."

One hand made a loose fist, gathering the fabric of Tommy's shirt at the small of his back. "We're gonna stay here on the other side of the country while they bury my dad. I won't have to hear my mom crying like her heart is in worse shape than his was. No one will tell me I'm a bad son who never came to visit."

Tommy rested his chin on the top of Evan's head. An angle his neck didn't enjoy, but it was worth it. "If anyone so much as thinks that in your direction, I will punch them in the throat."

Evan ran his fingers down Tommy's forearm. "They didn't even tell us he was having surgery."

"Would it have helped?" Tommy asked in all sincerity. They'd both witnessed death numerous times. Was it better when loved ones could see the loss coming? Not always.

"I don't know," Evan admitted. "But things were- they were better, you know? We talked on purpose sometimes and it went fine. I don't understand why they didn't at least tell Maddie."

"Do you think she'll try to throw it in your face at some point?"

Evan flinched, proving Tommy's guess had hit its mark. "God, I- I hate thinking of her that way. She's my mom."

"Motherhood doesn't come with emotional regulation, unfortunately."

"She was better," Evan said again. He exhaled loudly. "Maybe it- it won't be so bad."

"Maybe. I'm here regardless."

After a moment of silence, Evan lifted himself up with a hand on either side of Tommy's hips. They kissed quietly, and he laid his forehead on Tommy's shoulder. "What did I do," he asked, almost to himself. "What did I do to deserve you?"

If pressed, Tommy could rattle off a list. But Evan didn't need to hear about his willingness to set himself on fire for someone he loved, or about how he could see in a glance that Tommy was having a bad day, about how quickly he'd learned what Tommy needed at times like those. "You were you. That's all you ever needed to be."

[azrielwingspan]

RED SERPENT (Mob!Bucky x f!reader)

MASTERLIST

Chapter 4- Bloodhound and Loyalty

Summary: King and Queen of New York. The one who knows how to play the game, survives.

Warnings: Violence, mature content, sexual themes, foul language.

Disclaimer: I do not condone any of the actions written in this story.

"Pierce." you say, tone flat.

A smirk crawls onto his face, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Who would've thought that we would meet like this?"

"Not me." you replied in the same tone, an image of punching him right in the face flashing through your mind.

"Steve , Sam.." he says nodding at the two men in front of you. They don't respond to his greeting and move an inch closer to you. This action doesn't go unnoticed by Pierce. His smirk widens as he shakes his head.

"Looks like there's some sniffing out to do. After all..." he shifts his gaze to look at your directly "loyalty is hard to find these days."

You don't let his carefully worded threat phase you. "Every dog off of the street will show you loyalty once you feed them."

Taking great pleasure in watching the smirk slowly fade from his face, you got up and walked towards Bucky leaving behind Sam and Steve to deal with Pierce. It was time to form a new plan. Pierce would hold the information he had above your head and use you like his own plaything if you didn't do something soon.

How could you have missed this though? You were absolutely certain that you had him in the palm of your hand and yet he had been fooling you and working with Bucky. How long would he take to tell Bucky that his wife was the culprit and thought she could get away with it ?

Bloody hell.

You spotted him across the room talking with Helmut, another member of the inner circle. Helmut seemed aggravated but listened to Bucky as he spoke. Impatience taking hold of you, you approached them hands behind your back.

"Helmut, a moment with my husband please." you said looking straight at Bucky, face devoid of emotion.

"Yes, maybe you can fix this." Helmut said walking away. He was the only member who was bold enough to speak against Bucky right to his face. Holding back a smile at his ballsy nature, you stepped towards Bucky.

"I'm getting tired of your antics for the night, husband."

Bucky simply took a sip from his glass of amber liquid and studied my face for a few seconds. "Follow me." Without waiting for a response, he started heading towards the entrance. You walked by his side, anger simmering beneath your skin.

Ignoring the stares directed at the both of you, Bucky closed the door to the office behind him and headed to the small dark balcony that overlooked the dance floor.

He stood near the banister, one hand in his pocket and the other holding his glass. Joining him by his side, you followed his gaze and looked down at the figures dancing beneath, unaware of the tensions running high in the room upstairs.

"This is one of the best establishments in the city." Bucky spoke not looking at you.

"I'm aware." your gaze lifted upto him, noticing the sharp line of his jaw as his head remained turned.

"Your dad is one of the sharpest minds in the business. He knew what would work and what wouldn't. He was always right. Every single time." he let out a small sigh as he turned to face you finally.

You couldn't get a read on his expression. The dim lighting made it harder to see his eyes.

"When I was younger, I'd always wondered how he'd managed to do it. I'd asked my old man multiple times. He just asked me to figure it out." he stayed silent for a few moments.

I raised my eyebrow indicating for him to go on.

A tilt of the corner of his lips before he continued. "I was too young and reckless to ever trust anyone. Placed myself on a pedestal thinking that everyone was beneath me. Learnt the hard way that loyalty had to be earned and not demanded."

Your breath caught in your throat as he brought up loyalty again. That word would be plaguing your nightmares for quite some time.

"I needed to place my trust in...certain individuals to get somewhere in this business. It helped, a lot." he paused again, searching my eyes for something. The truth, perhaps?

"Where are you going with this, James?" you ask softly knowing very well where this was headed.

"The first time someone betrayed me, I didn't know what to do. Trusting someone was new to me but so was letting them go. After 3 days of no sleep, I shot him in the head."

He looked at the gulp you had taken, his eyes trailing over your throat and slowly coming back up to meet your eyes.

"So I'll ask you this once and only once." His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he took a small step forward, his height towering over you. His cologne that had once comforted you felt like a cocoon of danger where escape was a wild dream. Head tilted down to meet your eyes, he whispered, his voice spreading goosebumps over your body.

"Why did you do it, sweetheart?"

A/N: I know this is very short but I promise the next one will be longer !!

Taglist : @greatenthusiasttidalwave @ordelixx @mrsnikstan @scott-loki-barnes @marvel-wifey-86 @tenderly-hopeful-collection

[siolixz]

⋆｡°✩ Of Love and Loyalty⋆｡°✩

One-Shot

+18

Pairings: Oz "The Penguin" Cobb x Reader

Reader takes Victor's place in this story. She and Oz have a difficult relationship- he clearly likes her and she is conflicted in her feelings towards him (Eve doesn't have a sexual relationship with Oz in this). While I am between chapters, I decided to write this. Life has been so busy lately- so I apologize. Everyone in this story is 18+ and consenting. I've listened to Lana while writing this sooooo

Enjoy and give feedback If you want :)

Warnings: mentions of violence, smut , gunplay (¬‿¬)

After the death of your parents you were in a bad place, evidently. In a bad place, with the wrong type of people- stealing rims; trying to get by and scraping for food every day, life was miserable in Crown Point and it seemed like there was no way out.

 Not until he found you; shots firing by your head- he cornered you in the street- with a gun in your face. 

“P-please, please do-don’t.” all the words your stupid mouth could pronounce, he looked at you and he decided you were going to live- for the time being. 

This man, he was like a force of nature- so different, so strange. He was the most terrifying person you ever met in your life, from the way he carried himself to the way he dressed- you knew he was a mobster. Someone that the boys on the block, the ones that thought they were ‘tough’ and bullied people like you- people that needed help- could only ever dream of being like. 

Only in small glimpses could you see the man that was underneath; he was lonely, that much you knew- he was a man who dreamed of being respected, of being feared and loved, by all- maybe by you too, by the way you would catch him staring at you, the way he touched you sometimes- on your shoulder, on your hips- one time he brushed the hair out of your face, small acts of domestic kindness gave you glimpses into his desires, his wants and needs.  

“Where you from, kid?” He asked you about your life, he listened and he showed how kind he was, regarding your father and mother and your sister, for the first time since the traumatic event someone listened- everything, everything was taken from you.

He told you, “You have to be hard as nails, think on your feet.” He was right, people like you had to fight for the things they needed, the things they had to get in order to survive. He was like a mentor, you looked up to him, really- you did, but you were also scared, scared that one day you’re gonna do something wrong- say something wrong and he will put a bullet between your eyes before you know it. You couldn’t leave, if you did he was going to find you- the thought of that sent shivers down your spine.

As Robert told you about him leaving for California, you felt a rug being pulled from underneath you- he was the only thing tying you to your old life, the old you. The one who used to sneak into abandoned buildings with your friends; the one who ran home from school to meet up with him and your other friends to hang outside together- to enjoy life. 

“Why-why would you do that? Your whole life is here” you asked him. You and Robert enjoyed each other’s company, he kissed you a few times but that was all, he wasn’t your boyfriend, though you cared for each other.

“Not anymore” he told you “Our families are dead…we gotta care for ourselves now. Look at you, living in this nice apartment- it’s crazy he lets you stay here.” He looked around, almost not believing HE was here, let alone you. You told him that you do some paperwork for this club owner and he lets you stay in one of his spare apartments as payment, a good enough lie, he didn’t probe further. 

“Wh-when are you leaving?” you asked and as he told you that tomorrow night- you wanted to cry, beg him to stay.

“You could come with me” he grabbed your hands and leaned down to look at you “we could start over.” 

You looked at him and nodded “Robert, I-i’m not sure he…he will let me leave.” You took a deep breath. 

“Who? Your boss?” he asked.” Why would he care if you left? Does he-“ Robert took a pause, debating if he was going to ask you this or not “-does he ask for other things too?” You knew exactly what he was referring to. 

“N-no, nothing like that. Robert... this guy, he’s not just like a-a club owner.” you looked him in the eyes, trying to find a way to break this to him “He-he’s like…like a gangster.”

Jack’s eyes went wide “Then you definitely shouldn’t work for this guy. You need to leave.” He’s right, you did need to leave.

How is he gonna know? He’s too busy with Sofia to care for the moment, too concentrated on the new drug- this could be a way out- to get out of this city- for good this time. Leave all the pain in Gotham, start a new life.

 “The bus is leaving tomorrow night, 11pm, promise i’ll see you there?”

“Yes, promise.’ He gave you a quick kiss and left. 

After he came back home, he told you every detail he could think about. He seemed excited, that’s good. He told you he’s gonna need you tomorrow, he had a meeting with the Triads, apparently he forged an alliance with Sofia. Good, good for him, you were happy. Way too happy to see HIM happy, he was your captor- you shouldn't be happy for him.

Too bad you’re not gonna stick around to find out how the deal ends.

 While you were thinking of ways you could tell him about you disappearing while you waited in the Maserati- you were interrupted by a cop and you followed your ‘mentor’s’ words, “think on your feet”---he told you that evening that he was proud of you; as he smiled and grabbed your hand at the lunch you had to observe Luca’s wife at. 

This ‘intimacy’ he placed on you, he was going further and further every day. You didn’t want this, did you? Your stomach did a flip whenever he touched you or looked at you, maybe you wanted to be loved too, protected. 

Oz was also a charismatic man and pretty funny too, so what's not to like? Besides all the killing, he joked around with you and it seemed he enjoyed when you would give him a remark back, when you showed him you had it in you. 

You were leaving tomorrow, when he was gonna be busy at the club- his club. As he was talking to Sofia, he instructed you to be the supplier to the hookers giving the people in the club ‘Bliss’ that’s how he called it. 

His idea, you were sure.  You had to be dressed the part, in a tight white dress so short you couldn’t bend over at all in, your breast barely covered by the material. 

Between trying to calm your nerves and trying to ignore the way Oz was looking you up and down like a starving man looking at a 3 course meal, this night was going to be hard to get through. 

But you already made a plan, when everyone was distracted, the girls with the customers and Oz with the Triads- you were going to escape. Out the back door and into the night- for a chance at a better life. 

As the evening went on the girls were becoming more and more demanding, people loved ‘Bliss’ and they sure loved you, when you came by- with the product in your purse they cheered for you; they knew your name, some even hit on you- but that’s not important.  

You had to “get your head in the game” like he would say, Oz, it felt so wrong to think like this but you felt bad, a part of you felt like you were gonna let him down- break his heart.

You weren’t ambitious like he taught you to be, you were a coward, afraid of a life like this, afraid of a life with him. 

He was always so full of confidence, of pride- you wanted him to be proud of you too.  Maybe he was going to be so happy he was gonna take the next step and kiss you, you didn’t want this, did you? This dangerous man, he killed people, he murdered them in cold blood and he liked it too.

He was also kind and funny and lonely, so lonely; you were lonely too, you could have a better life here in Gotham, as well- under his wing. 

You checked your phone “Bus is leaving in one hr, u coming?” Robert texted you.

Yes, yes of course you were coming, you had to get to the staff bathroom- upstairs, so you could leave his cash there; change into your old clothes- jeans and a t-shirt- blend into the crowd and leave. 

As Roxy called out your name and pulled you into the crowd, ‘to dance’ she yelled. You couldn’t look suspicious, play the part- play the part, you repeated in your head. 

“You two look like a match.” She yelled in your ear and smirked at you.

“Wh-who?” 

“You and the big boss” she grabbed your waist almost embracing you “Did you fuck him yet? Or are you saving yourself for marriage?” She giggled in your ear as she told you that.

“No.” You answered, clear as day. You saw the way they looked at you- back at Oz’s apartment, you just thought you looked different from them, they were all dressed so nice and you looked like you’ve been to hell and back, because you did- so that’s why they were whispering and giggling to themselves about. 

You told Roxy you had to go, said your goodbyes and you left immediately after. 

In the bathroom, you looked another time at your phone- “Bus is leaving in 30 min. Pls come.” Ok, you had to leav-

“Doll, we fucking did it! Triads are in.” The sound of the door being opened hard enough it almost fell off its hinges, made you immediately drop your phone near the sink ”Oh, it was sweet, you should’ve seen it. We gotta play it safe I mean I still got the Maronis on my ass.” he smiled at you, flashing his gold teeth and started to point his finger towards you.

“But you! Look at you, you fucking did it. I’m proud of you, so fucking proud of you!” He came closer to you and grabbed your face- cradling it, “I told Roxy to order some of that red wine you like- the good stuff, cmon!” He grabbed your upper arm and in the worst timing possible-your phone started ringing near the sink- you quickly turned around and closed it. 

“Give it to me-” He’s going to kill you. 

“Oz-”

“Now, GODDAMIT!” he yelled and you jumped. Your heart beating a thousand miles per hour, he couldn’t see what the texts were, he was going to go crazy. Now for sure, he was going to kill you. Great. You unlocked your phone and gave it to him, your knees felt like play doh.  

As he blinked and looked down at your phone, you could see him scroll through the messages. He looked up at you and you could swear you could see him think about what he was gonna say to you. This man- who was never quiet-was reduced to silence, for the first time since you met him.  God, this was a mistake, why did you want to leave, you didn’t want to leave him.

“We’re this fucking close and you wanna bail on me like that, for what? Some fucking guy who doesn’t care about you.” he said, brows furrowed. He didn’t know Robert, didn’t know if he cared about you or not, yet he is pretty sure he doesn’t- maybe he cares more than him. “With my fucking money, huh?” he asked, after looking at your purse and you. 

“N-no, I swear, it’s not-not about that.” You pleaded, hopefully he was gonna listen, please listen, you thought. 

“What did you have huh? Before I found you? Nothing.” He was right, you did have nothing “I gave you food, shelter, a job and I’m still not good enough for you-”

“Oz, n-no this isn't about that.” you pleaded.

“It sure as shit looks like it. You think you’re too good for this life. You wanna go? Whadya waitin’ for?” he moved his much larger body out of the way, so you could have a clear path towards the door “Fucking go.” He looked almost sad- desperate in a way.

“I-i can’t.” You couldn’t leave, he was going to kill you; he told you that- multiple times.

“The fuck, you think I’m holding you hostage or something? Like you’re my prisoner” Yes, you are. Maybe you liked it, maybe this whole ‘im gonna escape' thing was all a bluff, you wanted a life like this, it excited you, it made your heart race- like he did. 

He moved his hand beneath his jacket and before you knew it- he pointed his gun at you.

“Oz-oz, hey-“ you started

“What did you have, huh? Before I found you?” He slowly started to move towards you, gun shoved near your face. “Fucking nothing. You were nothing. I would kill for you- I gave you so much of what I had, you have all the opportunity in the fucking world.” He came close enough you could smell his cologne and smell the whiskey on his breath “But this” he pressed the gun next to your head “this is all you feel!” His voice was breaking. 

“N-no-“ you tried to find the words to change his demeanor. You almost started to cry, your heart fell to your ass and you wanted the ground to swallow you whole right now

“This is all you feel, huh? Being with me?”  He looked into your eyes, his own brown eyes were being illuminated by the bathroom you were in, almost reddish- showing the anger and disappointment he probably felt- you let him down. 

“What else did you tell him, huh?” He asked, once he removed the gun from your temple, as he trailed it down your body, from your neck to your belly. “That I’m in the mob... that I kill people, that you helped hide a fucking dead body?” 

He was so close to you, the way he pressed you against the wall- reminding you of the first time you met him. “That I wanna fuck you?” He whispered.

His question made your ears and cheeks flush with blood and your heartbeat start pounding even more- if that was even possible. His gun trailed even lower and you thought he stopped pointing it at you, until you felt the cold barrel of it on your leg- goosebumps appeared on your skin, he trailed it up and up until it gripped your tight dress from underneath. 

His pupils were blown wide and his breath was getting heavier. “Truth is, you always had a choice.” He moved the gun even higher and with the help of his hand your thongs were on full display in front of him, your dress on your waist.  

He moved his gun to the front of your panties, pressing against your pubic bone- you didn't want to look down and stare at the shameful display.  

“And you choose to stay.” As he moved the gun near the part of the thong that was covering your clit and moved it down there, you couldn’t help the moan that escaped you and you looked down, partially because this was so shameful and partly because you didn’t want him to see how turned on you were. 

As you opened your eyes when you looked down- you saw his boner in his pants and the gun he had pointed towards you and the way he held it- like he actually was going to shoot you. 

“I’m-I’m sorry.” You whispered, hoping this would be enough. Maybe you could move on- you didn’t mean it. 

“Look at me.” you reluctantly raised your head “This is what you want, this life- doing this...Don’t fucking lie to yourself. You want to be more than your parents, be someone.” He looked at your lips and then back up into your eyes, as you remained quiet he pressed the gun even harder against your clothed clit. 

“M-my parents would be ash-ashamed of me.” He pressed it even harder “please.”

“Please what? You have to use your words doll.” He gave you a glinted smile- he enjoyed this immensely, what a sick man. “Maybe I can give your little boyfriend a call, have my men go after him and put a bullet in his fucking head. “ 

“You wanna be nothing, great, you already are.” He moved his gun from the right hand to the left and replaced the cold barrel of the pistol with his fingers; the warmth of them was warmly greeted with your involuntary moan. He moved the gun right under your chin- you wanted to cry again, your eyes were closed. He was capable of anything. Don’t cry in front of him, don’t do it.  

He started tracing circles on your clit and as you opened your mouth to breath out a moan, he pressed his lips to yours- tongue touching your upper lip. You were scared, so fucking scared, all you felt since meeting him was this- attraction and fear. All of it led to this moment, a breaking point he reached once he thought you were gonna leave him.

“Open your mouth” he was mere inches away from your lips, he moved the gun next to your body again, pressing into you “open.”- you obeyed. The size of him alone pressing into you was almost suffocating. 

You tried to kiss back- in all your shocked state, truly, you tried. His touches on the most sensitive part of your body were becoming erratic, too busy with the fact he was kissing you. He left your clit and started groping your breasts, almost painfully, you gave him a groan of pleasure mixed with the uncomfortable feeling of having a man his size shove himself over you, touching you anywhere he could get his hands on. 

“You talk about leaving me but you’re so fucking wet.” a trail of saliva connected your mouths “You wanted this.” This wasn’t how you thought the night would end, with your boss on top of you. “Still think I’m wrong?” He removed himself from on top of you and grabbed your arm- putting you in front of the mirror, with him behind you; gun still in his hand.

You saw him pull himself out of his pants and shuddered, maybe in fear and maybe in lust too, this big scary man. Almost crying just because you wanted to leave him, you’ve only known him for a few weeks. 

You were holding yourself up on your hands and as he pulled your panties to the side and slowly entered you, you saw him close his eyes in pleasure and then look back down at the way you took him.

He pressed the palm of his hand on your back; so you leaned forward even more, giving him an eyeful of you and him.

You almost felt like screaming when he buried himself so deep into you the next second, you’re pretty sure you did. What if one of the girls came in? You’re pretty sure Oz wouldn’t give less of a fuck about that right now. 

“Ow fucckk..” he looked up and back down again before setting a pace that made your knees almost give out, thank God you were holding yourself up. He grabbed one of your legs and put them on the sink so he could bury himself even deeper. 

When you felt something cold once again on your head you knew he had the gun pointed again at you; your blood ran cold. “You wanted to leave me..I own you.. I fucking own you” He smacked your bum so hard you knew it would leave a mark; with his eyebrows furrowed and a slight smile he asked you “Tell me, who owns you?” he wants to humiliate you, you thought you had a choice; that you could leave, you never had a choice; never will.

You felt like your cheeks would light on fire by the embarrassment you felt, either way, you had to obey him.

“Y-you” you shamefully lowered your head; closing your eyes, God it felt good to be fucked like this, minus the gun, on second thought, maybe with the gun was better. This was sick.

“Didn’t fucking hear you!” he roughly grabbed your hair and pulled you flush against him, with one hand he held the gun under your chin, with the other he grabbed your breast and fucked you against the sink. You didn’t know what to grab- so one of your hands instinctively grabbed the one he had against your boob- to pull him away if he grabbed you as hard as he did before and with the other-you held the one that had the gun. 

He pressed his nose against your cheek, “Who owns this pussy too, huh?” he kissed the side of your face, he wasn’t going to stop, was he?

Not only were you getting fucked by a man decades older, he practically could do whatever he wanted with you; kill you, fuck you, make you beg for him.

 “You do.” You hated saying this and loved it at the same time- the way he felt inside you, his big hands on you, the same hands that killed so many people without so much as a second thought- this was too much.

“Jesus…you’re fucking drenched.” He wasn’t lying, besides the muffled sounds of music from outside- the only sound in the room was the one your bodies made and the occasional groan from him and your moans, only you two could hear them- at least you hoped. 

“I’m gonna cum…tell me you want me to cum.. tell me you want it inside.” Goosebumps appeared on your skin and your thighs started shaking a little, either by the size of him or in anticipation, you didn’t know.

“I want it, please.” you told him, at this point his face was buried in your neck and his pace was losing momentum so you pushed yourself up against him; again and again.

 “Please what? Please what?!” he asked while fucking you

 “I want you to cum in-inside.” This whole ordeal, it got you so spent up you felt tears in your eyes; he shoved himself as deep as he could inside of you, pushing your body next to the sink until it was painful and you felt the way his cock was pulsing inside of you. 

“You’re not going anywhere.” he kissed you on your cheek. “You’re not going anywhere.” he whispered again. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's note: Dude you fucked your own criminal kingpin boss?

Hope you liked the story, have a good day xoxomxxoxoxo

[blueishspace]

(Something old and new, borrowed and blue p73)

Jimmy: ... Alright.

*You try to explain what happened to you... it isn't easy, you mix up words, but it is coherent enough that Scott seems to understand what you are trying to say*

Jimmy: And now... now I'm here I guess.

Scott: The game you were in... what was it called?

Jimmy: Third Life.

Scott: ... To be honest, I remember it a bit. We were married, right? And there was a pufferfish. And you died to Tango's...lava game thing.

Jimmy: ...y-yes...how?-

Scott: I won Last Life... I get to keep all my memories of it... And I get to remember some things from the other ones as well. Last Life is the only...clear one in my mind but the others are there, very hazy.

Jimmy: So, what?... I'm not in another universe? I'm just in the future?

Scott: Maybe... maybe It's both. I'm not an expert.

Jimmy: So... Who would remember Third Life?

Scott: The winner. Grian.

Jimmy: ...

*That son of a gun, is that why he was being so weird earlier... he knew and didn't explain!??*

Jimmy: I'm going to murder him.

*Scott laughs at that... It's a nice sound*

Jimmy: ... If you remember then why not team with me again?

Scott: Well, I only got my memories after winning Last Life and Double Life... Well, you had someone else by then. Plus Third Life is way too hazy for me and you didn't remember at all so..

Jimmy: That's fair I guess.

Scott: We haven't really been "married" in a long while, till death do us apart already happened after all.

Prev Next First

[misspelledwordswizard]

Chapter 19 - What to do when you are stuck in the sky?

Previous chapter / Next chapter

— Is this good? – I asked, showing my work.

— Good is not the word I would use, but it is better than before. Make the stitches closer and tighter, or else it will be loose. – Legend helped me, correcting my sewing mistakes.

I just accepted the criticism, which was equivalent to praise coming from him, and undid the stitches to redo them correctly. We had been here for almost an hour, probably, even though I knew the basics of sewing – thread the thread in needle, make a knot and pass it from one side to the other in the fabric – the Veteran made sure to hone my skills and prevent me from getting in the way instead of helping.

I was sewing the lower part of Hyrule’s tunic, while he took care of a tear higher up, so we were sitting shoulder to shoulder on the floor, sharing the fabric. After that, We'd still have his own black tunic, but I imagine he would want privacy for that. It wouldn’t be very feasible for him to only wear his newly sewn red one with me in the same room.

The silence between us became comfortable. It was good to have some time of peace and distraction with a manual work that didn’t demand much from me physically or mentally. But I knew there was something bothering my sewing partner. However, knowing his history of not letting anyone help him, I thought it best to leave him alone. If he wanted to talk, I’d be all ears. We continued like that for a few more minutes, until the bedroom door opened, revealing Warriors, who seemed surprised to see us there.

— I found you! The Cook is preparing dinner, in the meantime, Time called everyone to talk about the next steps. – He warned and we looked at each other, shrugging and putting our sewing aside for the moment.

We went out the door, following the Captain to the table, where the others were already gathered, with the exception of Wild who was cooking right next to him. Wind smiled and waved, still sunburned, I don’t even want to know how I look, at least it doesn’t hurt anymore. The others greeted us, some I was seeing for the first time today, so we sat with them in a month.

There were still some side conversations going around the table, but they were all interrupted when the Old Man called our attention to what Sky wanted to say. He cleared his throat when he noticed everyone’s eyes on him, and prepared to explain to us what this was all about.

— Well, you must have noticed that there is no real danger here in Skyloft or on the other islands, what we are looking for will hardly be found here. – The Chosen Hero began to speak, presenting his points. – What is needed now is for all of us to go to the surface, to Hyrule, where we will be free to investigate.

— The problem is that there is no easy way to do this. – Time continued, complementing what the other hero was trying to say.

— Exactly. It was already complex to bring all of you here, taking you to the surface is a very impractical idea. – Sky continued, presenting na obvious point, but one that I myself had not thought about before. – Especially because there would be no way for us to get there with the Loftwings, and to get down each one would need something like Wild’s Paraglider to prevent the fall.

— So, what is the plan?

— We don’t have a plan, that’s the problem. – He answered Four’s question, leaving everyone frustrated.

— Maybe we could start looking for the other islands while we don’t have access to the surface, or we could go there little by little! – I suggested, thinking of different possibilities, most of them incoherent. – There are people working on the construction of Hyrule there, whoever goes down can help with that while they wait for the others, we could organize ourselves and do this throughout the week.

Everyone contemplated, analyzing my suggestion, I know it wasn’t perfect, but I believe it’s a start. The first to criticize my idea was the Captain, who, although he didn’t seem to be rejecting it completely, had strong and valid points that went against it.

— Separating the group for so long may not be the best idea, especially for the first and last to go, since that way they would be alone and vulnerable for longer, not to mention that we would have to get a glider for each one.

— Not necessarily. – Wild intervened. – We could very well take turns using mine, if Sky came down with us, which would be recommended, he could bring it back for the next person to use.

— Hm, it doesn’t seem like such an absurd option to me, but perhaps there are other possibilities to consider. – Time completed.

The discussion of ideas continued for several more minutes, every now and then someone suggested something that was quickly discarded, soon the environment became a mess of noise from all sides, even the Champion who was focused on preparing the meal made a point of participating in the debate that was taking place. There came a time when I wished I could have a whiteboard and a megaphone to be able to organize this crowd of confusing ideas that were mixed up in the midst of the various male voices present in the place.

The hubbub only subsided when the food was placed on the table, everyone losing focus on the discussion and turning their attention to serving themselves with the delicious food that was steaming hot from having just been taken off the fire. It was a tangle of bodies fighting for their place to fill their plates with food, as if they had been hungry for days and were fighting for their survival. And I felt dramatic.

It was only then that everyone calmed down, a comfortable silence while their mouths were full of food, leaving the worry aside temporarily, after all. This was still a subject to be debated not so far in the future, but for now, I believe it is fair to put this aside to enjoy a great family dinner.

Family? Well, they are certainly a big family, but perhaps it is still a little early for me to consider myself part of it. I am satisfied with the category of family friend, for now.

◇

It was the middle of the night and I still hadn’t managed to sleep.

No specific reason, just occasional insomnia. I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling while wandering through random thoughts, some portrayed my daily life, others traveled to the past, and still others just questioned useless, strange and unusual things. I had taken another great shower before going to bed, I smelled like flowers and was very warm and comfortable under a thick blanket, Skyloft can be quite cold at night. I could hear what I concluded was a cat fight, or rather, a Remlits fight, outside, near my bedroom window. This was also a good reason to lose sleep, but it was actually reassuring, in a way it seemed familiar. My mind was very tired, my body not so much, but there was this thing in my subconscious that didn’t allow me to sleep, I imagine it was something close to worry.

Everything has been very calm since we got here, which leads me to believe that the real problem is far away, on the surface, a place we can’t be at the moment. The more I think about it, the less I can calm down enough to rest. At least I still have some time before we have to wake up so early again. I know that even if I end up only going to sleep when the sun comes up, I can rest all afternoon, just this once. But this can’t become a habit. I should be able to control my body, so that I can control when and how much I sleep.

Exhausted and without hope, I removed the heavy blanket from my body and stood up, giving myself some time to get used to it and not get dizzy. I left the room and headed towards the kitchen, trying not to bump into anything with the poor vision I had due to the lack of lighting. I looked for a glass that I could use and poured myself some water that was stored in a barrel specifically for drinking. Thanks to the cold of the night, the water was cool, which was a relief for my body, helping me to clear my mind as much as possible.

After hydrating, I decided it would be best to just go back to the room, there wasn’t much to do and going out there with the monsters on the loose wasn’t really na option. I went back the way I came, up the stairs and into the room, being careful not to slam the door when closing it and end up waking the others. I lay down on the bed that still retained the heat of my body, hiding in the covers and curling up, I finally closed my eyes and forced myself to stay that way until I fell asleep.

To my surprise, after so long, I had another strange dream again. The scary kind, not just the lack of common sense of dreams. I was sitting in a chair, in a dark, cold room that smelled of rot. I was alone, not a sound that indicated the presence of another being in the room, the silence was deafening and made any noise I made seem absurdly loud. Time passed, nothing happened, the silence continued and I didn’t care about trying to change it. I may be curious as hell, but I’m not stupid, I’ve watched a lot of horror movies. The room I was in didn’t have a door, not that I could see, so anyway there was nothing to explore in that dark, cold and boring place.

— You surprised me.

A voice I couldn’t identify spoke, somberly, a distorted tone with interference and glitches, which made the whole situation even stranger. I looked around, confused, the sound didn’t seem to be coming from a specific place, I couldn’t fully understand it, and there were no signs of any other living soul around here.

— I thought I had caught you last time, I didn’t think you would resist. Silly girl.

The voice continued, being very vague about what it was referring to, I don’t know if this thing expects me to answer or something, but I prefer to remain silent and make sure I can get as much information as possible, maybe by connecting the dots I can reach some conclusion.

— You could have been happy there, even if it was a dream, you could have been with the one you love in your last moments of life. So why did you resist? – The voice continued, and I finally identified what it was talking about. – For those people you don’t even know?

A silence once again dominated the room. I took a deep breath, keeping calm. That’s it, it’s just a dream, nothing can happen to me here, whatever this is is contained in the dream world, I’m safe for now.

— You’ve made your choice, now suffer watching your precious real world be destroyed along with those you care so much about. Or maybe, you’ll just watch from afar as they abandon you when they find out the truth.

Before I could react, the room began to change, tremble, shake and throw me into the air. I felt my body collide with several things as I was thrown from one side to the other, a particularly strong stitch hitting me in the rib and then everything passed, when I opened my eyes, I was back in bed, sweating after a bad nightmare.

◇

— Hylia, you look terrible. –

Warriors commented when he saw me in the morning, something that I assume is true. I didn’t even bother trying to get ready before leaving the room. Of course, I couldn’t sleep after that and I kept tossing and turning in bed. My hair must look like a bird’s nest and I don’t even want to imagine what my dark circles are like. And of course, thanks to that, my mood isn’t the best, it’s around six in the morning and now my mind is working to choose between two options: Stuff myself with caffeine or try to go back to sleep. The lack of coffee around here was what led me to choose the second option, but first I came to eat something so I wouldn’t have na empty stomach.

— Bad night. – That was all I could answer with my hoarse voice and my discouragement due to tiredness.

— Geez, I’ll tell Wild to make you a full breakfast and for everyone to leave you alone for today. The last thing we need is a woman with PMS.

— I didn’t say I’m PMSing.

— I’m assuming I am. – He replied, leaving me to talk to Wild who was already at the stove, while I looked away due to his comment.

Poor Champion, so early and already having to work to make sure we all don’t die of hunger or food poisoning. When I can, I’ll take over his job for a whole day so he can rest, at least I can cook safe food that won’t make people want to vomit. I think.

— Good morning. – The Sailor spoke with a voice as hoarse as mine as he approached the table, and I had to hold back from laughing at the sight of his state so similar to mine. The boy’s hair was so messy, tangled and spiky that it deserved to have been electrocuted and then passed through a hurricane right after. He had a big sleepy face and was staggering as he walked, still not fully awake.

— Wow, you two look exactly alike, you even look like siblings. – Four joked, also arriving for breakfast.

The youngest just ignored the comment, or maybe he didn’t pay attention to it, and sat down next to me, making us look like a pair of sleepy zombies. Before I could complain again or pass out from sleepiness, a plate of food was placed in front of me, the delicious smell waking me up and making my stomach growl.

— So, have you guys thought about what to do next? – I asked as I stuffed a large piece of pancakes into my mouth.

— Oh, I was thinking about going for a swim in the river later, it’s hot outside. – Wild commented as he looked out the window, noticing the strong sun.

— No, not today, I mean regarding the surface!

— Oh, about that, yeah, I still don’t know.

— I think the best option would really be to go slowly, and take turns using the Champion’s paraglider, but there are still holes in this plan that need to be filled. – Wars answered me, sitting at the table with his own plate of food.

— I see, so there’s not much to do for now. – I commented as I ate, shuddering at the thought of having to jump and glide again.

For the rest of the meal I remained quiet, just listening to the others’ side conversations, without the energy to actively participate beyond some occasional laughter. After finishing eating, I got up and went to wash my plate, stretched and started walking back upstairs where I could rest.

I walked slowly down the hallway, discouraged just remembering that I have a staircase to climb, but I remained firm in my decision, I need to get some sleep. As I walked, I felt a small shadow behind me, following my slow steps blindly, turning around, I saw Wind who wasn’t even paying attention to what he was doing, just following me like a puppy. A sleepy puppy.

— Can I sleep with you? – He asked before I could say anything, making me chuckle in agreement. I don’t know if he just wants to sleep a little more after yesterday’s long day, or if he’s in the same situation of lack of rest as I am, but maybe company is what I need right now.

— Okay, you can go to my room, I’ll try to take a shower before bed, I’m tired and smelly, it wouldn’t be nice to share the bed with me in this state, would it? – I joked, making him laugh a little and agree. We finished climbing the stairs together and the blond boy promptly went towards the bedroom.

I straightened my posture, feeling a relief as I stretched my muscles, sighed again, looking for strength to stay standing and walked towards the bathroom. Opening the door, I was thankful that it was empty at this hour, tested the temperature of the water with my fingertips and was gratified to notice that it was warm, it would be good to relax my sore muscles.

I began to undress calmly, taking care not to lose my balance and fall straight to the floor, yawning a lot in the process. Soon my clothes had already been discarded and I stretched lazily, gathering the courage to get into the bathtub full of hot and seductive water. I’m afraid that when I get in, I’ll end up falling asleep right there and be shamefully found by someone later.

I hurried to get in, this should be a risk I’m willing to take. But it’ll be okay, the guilt of leaving Wind waiting for me for so long will prevent my conscience from giving in to this temptation. In this heat, I wouldn’t complain about a cold bath either, but in my situation, a hot bath is much more welcome.

I put my feet in the bathtub, being careful not to slip, and slowly began to lower myself and get into the water, feeling the heat welcoming me comfortably. After the water reached my waist, I relaxed and got in completely, immersing my entire body in the hot water, and bitterly regretting this decision right after. A huge burning sensation hit my ribs, burning my skin, which was strangely sensitive at that point, scaring me and making me jump in place in pain. Without really understanding, I looked at the place that had hurt so much and I could see a purple spot, as if from a blow. I was confused for a moment, trying to remember where I had gotten this single random injury, until I realized the real situation, which made my heart race with fear and concern instantly.

— Fuck!

[of-nyon]

Fuck it. Moar.

“– the most expensive frame we've ever fitted, we have the paperwork to prove it, all the financials printed and signed, and he absconded with his debt unpaid –”

Well, you couldn't have spent that much on materials, given how small he is, Prowl thought. Absently, he drummed his fingers on his desk in a habit he knew he had picked up from Jazz, a mech who, in Prowl's experience, could only sit still if his life depended on it and even then his chances were middling at best.

On the holoscreen, sat comfortably in an opulent office a few megamiles away in Nyon, was the Head Curator of Sanctuary House, the last registered place of work of Rodimus Prime, né Hot Rod. The new Prime was still holed up in the apartment he'd initially fled to, the Primal Vanguard keeping careful watch of any comings and goings in the building and the immediate surrounding area. Curiously, his previous employer had requested a meeting specifically not with Optimus, but 'whoever else comes after him that's dealing with this whole situation.'

“Are you asking,” Prowl interrupted, his time with Optimus and Jazz having loosened him to where thoughts that he would before have kept to himself now, occasionally, when warranted, freely left his mouth, “for the Matrix-chosen Prime to be returned to you? To work?”

“W-well,” the mech's plating ruffled, withering under Prowl's unimpressed gaze. There was paperwork. There was always paperwork. And this fool was wasting his time. “The expenses, you understand, and he was one of our most requested models, we took a real hit in revenue when he left – left! It's an outrage!”

Hot Rod was young, but he was older than Optimus' ascension and subsequent reforms, born into the last throes of Functionism, ultimately under the thumb of a mech Prowl had immediately disliked the moment the holoscreen switched on.

“Send us your invoice,” Prowl said flatly. “We will cover any debts he accrued.”

“But the lost revenue –” Also couldn't be too much, at this point. Hot Rod had only left Nyon an estimated decaorn ago. They hadn't even submitted a missing mech report. Prowl had checked; nothing on the servers in the precinct at Nyon came up with his name except an old loitering arrest that, thankfully, hadn't yet made its way to the press. Prowl had quietly redacted and classified it while he'd been in the system.

“If your charges are deemed fair, we will pay it. Good day.” He switched the holoscreen off and reached out for a datapad in the same movement. Applications for the Primal Vanguard, currently recruiting to bolster their numbers given current events. He carefully evaluated each one, sending any approved to Ironhide and providing feedback to any rejected mechs, of which there were many. He did pay attention to younger mechs than he might have otherwise; a cohort of mechs closer to the Prime's age would be, overall, positive, given supervision and training by the older staff. After making it through half the stack, he checked in on Jazz again.

:Any updates?:

:Hi to you too, Prowler.: Jazz sounded chipper, although he usually did regardless of how well he was actually feeling. He would probably insist that he was fine even if he was bleeding out in front of Prowl's optics. Prowl blinked the thought away. He didn't need that imagery, or for the tac net to latch onto the scenario and start crunching numbers.

:He's up. We've, uh, been ignoring the news and whatever the infranet's melting down into. Some of his old pals in Nyon've commed him, seemed all right with it. Sounds like the festivals there are nuts right now. Been teaching him some beginner's electrobass, pretty fast learner I gotta say, and some basic lockpicking, though it turns out he already knew some o' that. My kinda mech. Likes copper flakes in his energon. Didn't have a clue what I was talkin' about when I tried to talk music, though. We have got to get this mech to a concert, stat. What are they teachin' 'em in Nyon?.:

:In his case?: Prowl replied, letting the words wash over him and picking out any actual information. Copper flakes; a message to the kitchens was quickly sent. :How to pleasure clients, most likely.:

:Ouch, you don't gotta come out an' say it like that.: Prowl could hear his wince. :They're sayin' some real gross stuff about him online.:

More damage control: mechs anonymously boasting that they had had his services before (unlikely, given the amount of claims) or fantasising about it in lurid detail.

:Guess they said gross stuff about OP too, but I dunno, he ain't even had his adult upgrades yet, he's old enough but they cheaped out on him.: Something to note for when Sanctuary House sent their invoice through, if they tried charging for it. And a message to Ratchet and his staff. Prowl received a quick, curt 'accepted' ping for that one; he could imagine the expression on the grouchy medic's face upon finding out that information.

:But hey, if we get the Matrix to him, all good, right? Free upgrade!: Yes, they would need to check in with Ratchet on whether it was preferable for Hot Rod to receive his adult upgrades first, or to let the Matrix reformat him to its pleasing and then deal with the aftermath as it came.

internet went out yesterday so I missed most of Tumblr Halloween which is bullshit. Have a new wip in lieu of boops.

The first Holy Act of Rodimus Prime, True-Chosen, warm white light still spilling off his frame, was to bolt.

He hadn't even come here for the Matrix! He'd come for the crowd, pushing and straining against each other for so much as a glimpse of the ancient artifact, and certainly not paying attention to someone slipping a hand into their subspace to grab whatever he could.

Hot Rod ran, ignoring the “Hey, wait!” from the guard who'd waved him through earlier. Optimus Prime apparently meant it; sure, the rich folk still got the top spots, same as always, but they'd let through a lowlife street mech like Hot Rod without him needing to sweet-talk them. He polished up good, when he had the means and the funds and the energy, and he'd put effort into tonight's look in hope it'd get him past the guards.

All for nothing, as he dropped into alt mode and sped out, tires screeching over someone's panicked 'Sir!'. The grand staircase was coming up fast, and someone – not him – yelled as he cleared the thing in one go without slowing down, enough momentum going that he was still going forward on his front tires as the rest of his frame crashed down to the priceless marbled floor. People screamed and scrambled out of his way, the big doors thrown wide open for all of Cybertron to come and view the Matrix, but the crowd outside was too much. He flipped back into root mode, experience helping him wrest himself through tight gaps. The groups of incoming mechs didn't have the news yet, so no-one tried to stop him as he fought through the press of bodies – at least anyone chasing him would also have to contend with -

There was a screeching of sirens behind him. That had the crowd's attention, and Hot Rod didn't dare look back as he finally passed under the main palatial gate, a strange shudder running through his frame as he took to his alt again now he was out on the streets. The white light had bled off, at least. Sure, it wasn't illegal to be chosen by the Matrix, probably, that was why Prime had set this whole thing up in the first place, but it was definitely illegal to have a subspace full of stuff he really needed to sell if he wanted to fuel any time soon.

The sirens pursued. If this was Nyon, he thought, taking a corner so hard he skidded on two tires before coming back down on four, he would already be down any number of boltholes, slag, he could probably hide in the Temple itself, there was a way to get up into the rafters no-one else knew. But Iacon was different - wide, expensive streets, no cover, no friends. Well-to-do-mecha – or, more likely, their gardeners – blinked at him as he sped past. Delicate crystals chimed in his ferocious wake, mingling with the sirens.

Slag, slag, slag. They were maybe a corner away. They always chased a running mech. He took back to root again, coming up jogging, slowing down to maybe not look as guilty and they'd think they were chasing some other guy, desperately trying to find the way out of this mess. He'd never been -

“Psst, kid!”

His head snapped up. An arm was waving out of the window of one of the expensive houses, one floor up.

“See that drainpipe? If you kick off that windowsill you can shimmy up and – yeah, you got it!”

Hot Rod didn't stop to think, just lunged at the offered way out. No-one 'psst, kid!'-ing him ever did it because they were in with the cops, and he took the matte black hand that helped him through the window easily.

“Whew!” His saviour said as he tumbled through, realising at the last moment to duck his head as the sirens wailed past not a moment later. “Close call, eh?”

“Thanks,” Hot Rod gasped, vents billowing, then he stilled. The sirens had stopped.

“Ooh, I bet I know who that is,” the mech, a little civilian car with a burning blue visor, went over to lean over Hot Rod and yell out the window: “Yo! Prowl!”

“Jazz,” the Enforcer's voice floated up, sounding prim and proper and not nearly like he'd been gunning flat-out after a racer. “Is that smoke? Are you on fire? Do you need assistance?”

“Eh?” Jazz wafted away the billowing hot air coming off Hot Rod's trembling frame. “Nah, nah, 's this new effect we're coming up with for the next show, real cool, real hot, I mean. Just giving her a test run. You get your guy?” He was leaning conversationally on the windowsill now, Hot Rod trapped between his legs and the wall.

“He appears,” Prowl's disembodied voice said, “to have vanished in the middle of the street, right outside your window.”

“Wow,” Jazz replied, one foot tapping out a restless beat next to Hot Rod's knee. “That's crazy.”

“He's not in trouble,” Prowl continued. “With the Palace. If you see a red and yellow speedframe, likely forged racer, wide yellow spoiler-wings, flame decals, possible – possible Nyonian origin, please let me know immediately. Once the footage starts circulating, people will start recognizing him, and we need to ensure his safety above all else.”

“Huh. All right.” Jazz switched feet on a beat only he could hear. “What footage are we talkin' about?”

---

“Wow, mech, you are in it,” Jazz whistled, low and melodious and impressed. Hot Rod buried his head in his hands. By the time he'd been scrambling through Jazz's window the news and infranet had set on fire with the tale of a new Prime, with the recordings to prove it to the doubtful. Headline after headline, post after post, a whole slew of fun new conspiracy theories springing up around him. The press had very quickly identified him, the registration document at the Nyonian hot spot of his spark, name, and function splashed across screens the planet over.

Hot Rod, Entertainer.

From there it would be a short skip to the House that had picked up and framed his spark and raised him for the legally-mandated timeframe of three orns before he was put to work.

“Yanno,” Jazz said, “Prowler did say you weren't in trouble. Like, he knows you're here, just figures you're safe with me for the time being. That mech don't lie.” A pause. “Well, he does when the numbers line up, but not about this, I think. He really doesn't want you to go get yourself slagged, is what I'm saying.”

Hot Rod lifted his head up, twin points of blue optics burning through the gaps in his fingers.

“I'm just sayin',” Jazz repeated, holding his hands palm-up in a gesture of truce. “Anyway, lemme treat you while you're with me, mech. You gunned it down here, I bet you could do with some fuel.”

---

Jazz was sat on the couch with one leg crossed over so his foot rested on his knee, idly strumming his electrobass, picking out low notes while Hot Rod was small enough to curl up a cushion over. He'd slipped into recharge some time ago, no problem, mech'd had a busy day.

:Jazz.: His comm crackled to life. :How is he?:

Jazz glanced over at his new charge before (quietly) plucking out a dramatic strum he associated with Prowl's appearance on the scene. If you were friends with Jazz for long enough, sooner or later you got a leitmotif assigned to you. More than one, if he really liked you. Prowl had the record, with four to his name.

:Doin all right, I think. Got some fuel in him, an' he's sleepin now. Cute kid. He really the new Prime?:

:The evidence is irrefutable.:

:Dang. Been kept busy, then?:

:You do not know the half of it.: Prowl sighed through the comm. :Please keep an optic on him, he's safe where he is right now while we deal with the fallout. We'll reimburse any expenses.:

:No problem, no problem.:

:And...if all goes well and he does take up the Primacy, and even if he doesn't, there is a reasonable chance your apartment will become a sacred pilgrimage site.: Jazz laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of it, even knowing Prowl was as dead serious as he was with just about anything else in his life. :Optimus is more than happy to offer quarters in the Palace. I know your contract with Mellow is ending soon. We can bring you on-:

:What, as official good taste in music-haver?: Jazz asked, amused. And Prowl was right; Mellow liked to commission artists, pay for anything and everything they needed, then forget about it for a few decacycles until the contract was up and he got to see whatever it was you'd put together over that time. The mech had been on a night out with friends, scouting out his next big hit, Jazz had scored a gig as a temporary replacement bass player, and then was all but chased down by the guy after the show. And who would say no to what he was offering?

:If you'd like,: Prowl continued. Jazz had some idea that they were poking into Mellow's business, but that was no business of his, long as he got paid. He hadn't been interviewed about it, but Prowl was eager to get him out of the apartment and kept offering him a place up at the Palace.

:You know what,: Jazz said, glancing over to the sleeping probably-a-Prime and testing out some higher notes he thought suited Hot Rod. :Sure. It'll be funny, if nothing else.: