#it’s about to be soooooo bad isn’t it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

comatosebunny09 · 29 days ago

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apt 302 | sylus q.

— summary: at first, your new neighbor was as mysterious as he was handsome. after taking some time to get to know him—or forcing your way into his quiet life—you realize looks can be deceiving. — cw: gn reader, neighbors au, neighbors to friends to lovers, profanity, innuendoes, jealousy, misunderstandings, stalker ex, alcohol use, guns mentioned, self-indulgent, allusions to reincarnation, angst, pet names, sylus being an insufferable gentleman, slice of life — dividers by: @omi-resources — notes: this grew way longer than i expected, soooooo you’re gonna hate me for what comes next. anyways, thank you so much for reading! — now playing: my favorite person now - she was pretty ost — tagging: @alfredosaws, @sinsodom @chuppiechanchan @hao-ming-8 @antonneva @sunsets-and-crows @leighsartworks216 @grabby-smitten @nebulorra @minniestarmj @elysiums-light @saiaise @queenofstresss @beewilko @aetherscribit @libriomancer @world-of-hearts @awkwardnurse @huachengnism

Information Technology isn’t as cushy of a field as you initially thought.

Sure, you have a desk job doing the most mundane of things—working the help desk, troubleshooting devices, re-imaging computers. But your job isn’t without its drawbacks.

Sometimes, the days are long and arduous. The constant customer interaction doesn’t help matters; you’re a bit of an introvert, requiring five business days to recover from just a few hours of socializing.

So, forgive you for seeking a little respite in the form of your favorite set of pajamas and fuzzy slippers as you ease into your apartment.

The weight of the world sloughs off your shoulders when the door leading inside clicks shut behind you. You sigh gratefully, the sound of your keys clattering against your entryway table, intermingling with that of your AC humming to life.

You hang your bag and sweater on the coat rack. Trade your uncomfortable shoes for house slippers, the soreness in your heels slowly retreating. The last vestiges of sunlight creep through the slits of your blinds to bathe your home in its ethereal glow before ducking behind the horizon.

Your apartment is humble. Has a natural, minimalistic vibe with bits of decor displaying your personality sprinkled throughout. You already pay the price of a kidney and two lungs to stay here. No use investing in posh furniture when your job sometimes requires you to pick up and go at the drop of a hat.

Your stomach growls whilst you draw your curtains shut and turn on some ambient lighting via your phone. You’ll eat soon, you promise. For now, you’re on a mission.

Quietly, you move through your home in search of your laundry area, thoroughly prepared to slip into your PJs following a shower to jumpstart your weekend.

Too bad a pile of sopping wet clothes awaits you when you open your dryer door.

“Goddammit,” said under your breath as you mash the power button. It won’t turn on. Figures. You kick the offending appliance. Stupid thing must be out again.

You had set your clothes to dry before you left for work. You were looking forward to snuggling up with wine and your favorite show, donned in comfy clothes. Seems your dryer had other plans.

You should’ve replaced it months ago when it first started acting up. You had hoped to salvage it a little longer; appliances don’t come cheap these days. Besides, you’ve had a darling neighbor to fix it each time. To extend its lifespan.

Speaking of which—

Chewing your lip, you pad over your cold, hardwood floor to snatch your phone from the coffee table. Fall onto your couch cushions with a devious smile twitching your lips. It’s getting late, so you don’t think to badger him into tinkering with your dryer tonight. However, perhaps he’ll let you utilize his. At least until you can use your day off tomorrow to shop for a replacement.

You hover your thumb over his contact, his name flanked by crow emojis. Contemplate calling him, but what if he’s busy? This is usually about the time he’s leaving. Instead, you settle for opening your messaging app, already conjuring an excuse.

(You): 🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛💥💥💥 (Sylus): lol (Sylus): good morning to you too. (You): 😒😒😒 dude it’s like 6 (Sylus): 🤷‍♂️ (Sylus): im just now getting up. long day at the office. (Sylus): whats up? (You): are you busy tonight?? (Sylus): not really. 😏 what did you have in mind ? (You): pause. not like that (Sylus): 😢 (You): my dryer’s out again (Sylus): ah. want me to take a look? (You): nah you already do so much (You): is it cool if i use yours tho? 😬😬😬 (You): i’ll bring you booze (Sylus): lol (Sylus): its fine sweetie. doors unlocked. ill be in the shower. help yourself. (You): 🙏🙏🙏

You take your time gathering your saturated clothes into a basket. On your way out, you snag a bottle of Merlot from your fridge.

No matter how often you’ve been here, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to how much more… put together Sylus’ place is compared to yours.

It suits him—the black and red furniture, the stylish accents littering his apartment. It smells delightful inside, a mixture of mahogany and amber enmeshed with remnants of food. Soulful jazz flows from a record player, fitting the sepia-toned glow of floor lamps and candles flickering on every other surface.

You toe the door shut behind you. Feel so small and out of place amid his decor. You’ve only recently started coming here, having spent much of your time together inside your apartment. Regardless, you navigate his space like it’s your second home, finding his washer and dryer set.

After starting your clothes in the dryer, you wander back to the living room, hands stuffed in the pockets of your cardigan. You take some time to admire the atmosphere. Fingers skim over the various vinyls organized on a built-in bookcase on the wall.

You snort with a half-smile. You know so little about your neighbor, yet you know just enough to be this comfortable with him.

He’s a music buff; that much is for sure. He’s clearly made of money if the luxurious furniture and his car are anything to go by. You don’t press him about what he does for a living. Figure he values his privacy above all else, unlike you.

You’re an open book. The primary yapper in your acquaintanceship, prattling on about your life and aspirations. And he just sits there, wordlessly nodding with a polite smile behind the rim of his glass. Where you would otherwise be wary of being in someone’s home like this, you feel safe around him in a way that almost terrifies you.

“Admiring the decor,” teases a voice from behind.

You jolt, spinning around like you’ve been caught stealing. You’re met with a smirk beneath scarlet eyes, twinkling with mischief. Strands of white cling to Sylus’ forehead, damp from the warm spray of his shower. He towels his hair dry, maneuvering around the living set towards you.

“Hey, you,” you greet, trying to play it cool. Like your heart isn’t hammering and heat isn’t branching into your cheeks. You attempt to maintain eye contact. It’s increasingly difficult to do so with his physique peeking through his t-shirt and sweats like that.

“Hey, yourself.” There’s amusement in the deep gravel of his voice. A smile in his eyes as he studies you, draping his towel around his shoulders.

You swallow. Try to divert the subject, motioning to his record collection. “You got some new tunes, I see.”

A chuckle is dredged from the bowels of his chest. You feel it pull in your stomach. “Sure did. Got something you might like.”

God help you as he reaches around you, the fine hairs littering your body standing on end, your mouth agape like a fish out of water.

Unconsciously, you step back, your spine softly thudding against the records display. Your heartbeat’s on a warpath, and you swallow against the dryness of your throat as the veiny, sinewy muscle in his forearm stains your periphery.

He gives you a bemused look before slowly peeling a record from the shelf behind you. Steps back to fish out the vinyl and settle it on the platter, replacing the record that was just playing.

You release a breath you were unaware of holding. Good job playing it cool, dumbass.

“You alright?” Sylus quizzes with a raised brow. “You seem a little on edge tonight, sweetie.”

You sigh, schooling an unconvincing smile onto your face. Try to ignore how the term of endearment glides off his tongue so effortlessly. You wonder how many other people he addresses like that.

“Work was…rough today. Kicked my ass. I’m tired.”

A snarling sound invades the space between you, heard over the gentle croon of the new music. Your eyes fall to your stomach. You rub it placatingly. In all your haste to have some dry friggin’ clothes, you forgot to eat.

“And hungry, too,” you sheepishly add.

You glance up, and Sylus’ gaze tracks from your stomach to your face. He smirks knowingly, motioning with a nod toward his kitchen.

“Figured you didn’t eat yet. I made carbonara if you’d like some.”

You smile wryly at his back as he pads away, carrying the scent of cedarwood and bergamot with him. Where would you be without such a doting neighbor?

You track him to the kitchen. Leaning against the threshold, you watch him procure a bottle of water from his fridge. It’s so very small, dwarfed by his massive hand.

“I suddenly got called for a Teams meeting five minutes ago.”

Your heart drops, the smile nearly falling from your face. And here you thought you’d have his company over dinner.

Suddenly, he taps your nose, drawing you out of your thoughts. You hadn’t noticed when he got closer, swaddled in the static of your bodies being so close. “Where did you run off to,” he rasps, searching your gaze for something.

The proximity of your bodies grows stifling, his warm breath glazing over your skin, dizzying. When he doesn’t find what he’s looking for, he steps back, leaving you shell-shocked and utterly confused.

“In the meantime, make yourself at home. You know where everything is,” he says, brushing past you with an air of finality.

You strain your ears for the noise of a distant door shutting before you make your move, rummaging through his cupboards and drawers for a plate and cutlery. After you’ve scooped a decent helping of food onto your plate, you settle onto one of his velvet couches, cross-legged and shoveling food into your maw.

The fluttering of wings piques your interest. You’ve hardly any time to acknowledge him before a tuft of black, iridescent feathers shines from Sylus’ coffee table. The crow studies you curiously, ingesting you with his beady eyes before he preens himself.

“Me-fith-toe!” you greet around a mouthful of food.

Said crow ducks away, dodging errant crumbs and spit flying from your mouth, cawing in protest. You give him a rueful look.

Sylus has a soft spot for animals. You noted it the first time you entered his apartment, greeted by his boisterous companion. Funny; he doesn’t look like the type to have such an eccentric pet.

But Sylus has found numerous ways of pleasantly surprising you, revealing parts of himself to you bit by agonizing bit.

“Chicken?” you say after finally swallowing, offering a forkful of pasta to the bird. Mephisto scrutinizes the food before resigning himself to pecking at it. You smile fondly, your eyes crinkling with mirth. “Mephisto, you cannibal.”

Lulled by the occasional flap of Mephisto’s wings and Sylus’ even tone murmuring things of business somewhere far off in his home, you fall into a familiar rhythm, quietly waiting for your clothes to dry.

You spend the remainder of your evening in your neighbor’s company, drinking Merlot and judging each other’s music tastes, long after your pajamas have dried and settled in the dryer.

“So, have you boned yet?”

You choke on your waffle. Pound on your chest with the heel of your palm to dislodge it. You turn narrowed eyes on the source of the question. She merely shrugs from across the table, sipping her mimosa as if she’s asked the most innocent thing.

“Bitch.”

“What?” She appears nonplussed, setting her champagne flute down with a definitive clack. All serious when she returns your stare over crossed arms, and you know you’re in for it.

“You talk about the guy so much I figured you would’ve already, ya know…” The humping gesture she makes under the table is a bit much.

You blanch. “No, dumbass, I haven’t boned.” Your voice peters towards the end of your sentence. And you peer down at the napkin folded in your lap, heat prickling your face.

You won’t deny Sylus is good-looking. More like he could be someone modeling Prada on a catwalk. Can’t pretend you haven’t entertained the thought of being a little closer to him, too. More than just the late nights spent talking or him fixing something you broke.

You shake your head. Of all the times you’ve been tucked away in either of your apartments, he’s never made a move on you. Sure, he’s said some pretty suss things. Flirted with you outside of your usual banter.

And maybe he’s done things to confuse the ever-loving hell out of you—cooked you breakfast when you were drunk off your ass and hungover the next morning. Lended you one of his expensive record players. Shacked up at your place a few times under the guise of “coming to get Mephisto.” But—

Nah. He’s not like that. You’re just neighbors, right? Unofficial friends. Friends hang out all the time, right?

“He’s not like that,” you say brattishly, stuffing more food into your face. At least not with you.

You don’t miss your coworker’s fox-like grin spreading in your periphery. She taps her cheek thoughtfully, watching you like a smug sibling about to snitch.

“Sure, sure. If you say so. He’s still a man, though. He might not have tried you yet—”

“Hush,” you interject. The table shakes, cups rattling as you saw into your sausage with your fork and butter knife. You’re done with this conversation.

Try as you might, however, you can’t banish your thoughts revolving around him. Especially with your coworker watching you like that, silently egging you on.

He’s not that kind of guy.

He’s still a man, though.

You’ve repeated it like a mantra throughout your day, even as you mindlessly clacked away at your computer.

Work was a blur. An exhausting blur. Day gave way to the soothing exhale of night, and you were finally nestled in the quiet sanctuary of your apartment, on your couch, entertaining yourself with a game of Uno. It wasn’t much fun playing alone, but you needed a distraction from the mess of your mind when your favorite show couldn’t help.

It’s a quarter past 9 when a shuffling sound in the breezeway outside your apartment catches your attention. It’s accompanied by the echoed rasp of a recognizable voice, chuckling and murmuring indiscernible things.

You peel yourself from your couch as if on autopilot, nose pressed against the cold metal of your door as you peer through the peephole.

It’s your nightly ritual—waiting like an overzealous puppy to greet or send off your neighbor. You don’t always get the luxury of saying goodnight in person. Sometimes, he’s gone for days—weeks—at a time. You don’t know the semantics of his job, but you make it your mission to help assuage whatever burdens he shoulders whenever you can.

He’s there to help you, after all. Whether with a glass of wine, a warm meal, or his company.

So, forgive you for wanting to be a decent neighbor. And you would be tonight if not for the scene that passes through the fisheye of your peephole.

It’s Sylus, clad in something flattering and expensive. There’s no mistaking his broad back and shoulders. The purl of his voice, the wispy dusting of alabaster hair on his collar. But the smaller frame with him, well—

Your heart plummets into your stomach.

She’s pretty from what you can glean from the limited view of your peephole. Donned in a dress that’s form-fitting, voice high and light. Giggling silly things, fastened to Sylus’ side, held there by a virile arm draped around her middle. She’s drunk if the sloppy lean of her body is anything to go by. Sylus angles himself near her ear to whisper something, ushering in a new set of giggles.

You watch with your breath corked in your esophagus until they slide into his apartment together, their enmeshed voices fading from the stilled walls of the hallway.

Huh. Well, so much for him not being that type of guy.

You grapple with this new revelation, a furrow between your brows, hands falling listlessly at your sides. Numb as you drag yourself back to your couch, bouncing comically on the cushions.

You don’t even know why you’re upset. He's a grown man with a…life. You think.

It’s the first time you’ve witnessed him bringing someone to his place other than you, but it’s only natural for a guy like him to have options. He’s far from hideous. Has the gift of gab, for God’s sake. He’s charming and the very definition of masculine.

It just stings a little, knowing that it’s not…you that he’s touching like that.

So, you are definitely not flinging Uno cards onto the coffee table. Muttering things to yourself, gripping the stack in your hands so tightly, the plastic squeaks. What’s even got your undies in a bunch? The man’s not yours. You’ve never screwed around. Never really showed signs of wanting to, so it makes sense he would seek pleasures of the flesh elsewhere. His world doesn’t solely revolve around you as much as you would like for it to.

You’re halfway through a third round of angry card-flinging before a soft rap at your door nearly sends you some 30 feet into the air.

Stomping to your entrance, you peek through the peephole, and your heart works overtime when you catch sight of a wash of black and scarlet.

Internally, you scold yourself for how gullible you are. You throw the door open like you weren’t just cursing him and his stupid existence moments ago. Try to act nonplussed, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe with a haughty look.

Of course, he would smell good. Look good, propped against the threshold like that, an amused cant to his lips, his physique devastating beneath the tight cling of his turtleneck.

“Hey,” he greets, the sound breathy and easy like warmed honey.

“Hey, yourself.”

He studies you for a bit. Eyes flicker over your face, and you tamp down the sparkling rush of warmth that wades over your skin at the attention. Even when you’re mad at him, your attraction still finds an annoying way of creeping through the seams.

“This is going to sound incredibly strange, and feel free to tell me to piss off, but…do you mind if I crash on your couch for the night?”

You stand up straight. Blink owlishly, mouth opening and closing. “Huh?” is all you’re able to muster.

He chuckles, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this side of bashful. “Yeah. It’s a…bit of a long story, sweetie.”

“O-Okay,” you say, rigidly moving aside.

“Thanks.” The charm is back on, turned up to max capacity. He brushes past you into your apartment, falling onto your couch with a huff. Quirks a brow at the mishap on your table, the carnage having spilled onto the floor.

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but were you playing Uno by yourself?”

You ignore him, plopping cross-legged on a floor cushion adjacent to him. Bypassing the tick in your brow, you look off to the side, fighting the embarrassment threatening to take hold of your visage. Shouldn’t he be across the hall, entertaining his company?

“Shut up and grab some cards,” you grumble to dispel the green-eyed thoughts stewing in your mind.

“Bossy.” But he doesn’t contest you, gathering the abused cards to shuffle them.

The remainder of your evening slides by with comfortable quips. With booze and a break to catch up on Love Is Blind—somehow, he’d roped you into watching it.

You had no idea he was such a sap. Nearly forgotten how miffed you were mere hours ago.

He assuaged your worries with an explanation as the sun crept over the city.

The girl in his apartment was an old colleague who’d gotten drunk and convinced herself that she was anything but.

Being a good samaritan, Sylus brought her to his place to sober up since the apartment complex wasn’t too far from the main strip of bars. He didn’t want any issues when she inevitably woke up. Messing with drunk people wasn’t his thing.

So that’s how he ended up here, inhabiting your couch like he’d always been a part of the decor.

He didn’t owe you an explanation. You were just friends. Still, you couldn’t help the quiet smile that twitched your lips after he cleared the air.

At some point in the morning, you both fell asleep. He looked all serene, too big for your sofa, but comfortable. You watched his lashes flutter from your place on the floor, his lips parting with soundless exhales. Even in sleep, he maintained that guarded aura, his arms folded across his chest.

You were bleary-eyed, gathering yourself from the hardwood to fetch a blanket to drape over him. He shifted, and he was so pretty with the sun bathing him in an angelic glow like that, his hair bright like a halo.

You were about to retreat to your bedroom when an abrupt knock tore you from your reverie. You glanced at your guest, ensuring he went undisturbed. He needed the rest. He was a night owl, and something about the sun vexed him, so he typically spent his days sleeping when you weren’t impeding on his time.

You moved to the door, foregoing the peephole to open it. Big mistake.

On the other side stood Little Miss Pretty from the night prior, impatiently tapping her foot. Her hair was flattened on one side, and her dress was askew. By the looks of it, sleep hadn’t been kind to her.

“Hi, good morning,” she sighed, schooling her expression into fake politeness. She straightened herself as best she could, but the white patch of dried slob staining her chin did little to help her plight. You bit back a snicker.

“I’m looking for a friend. He lives across from you. His name’s Skye.”

You quirked a brow at that. Skye? Oh, honey…

You wondered how many other people Sylus had fed a fake alias to. Or if Sylus was even his real name.

“Haven’t seen him,” you chirped over crossed arms. Pulled the door slightly closed behind you, barring the woman from getting a peek at him, nuzzled up so cozily on your couch.

She sighed with slumped shoulders. A childish pout warped her lips. Her voice shifted into something more bratty. “You sure? Tall guy, white hair, red eyes? You can’t miss ‘em.”

“Not ringing a bell, hun. Sorry.”

It was taking all of you to keep up this ruse. You were fighting so hard to tamp down your amusement. This woman reminded you of an antagonist in a Korean drama, the way she was kicking and huffing about.

“Where the hell did he go,” she groused. You watched her draw her phone from the pocket of her fur coat, your throat growing dry.

Your blood turned to ice when a familiar ringtone chimed in your apartment behind you. You stiffened comically; mouth hinged open with shock.

The woman’s expression morphed into one of suspicion. She tried to look inside your home, the upbeat ring of Sylus’ phone still flooding the uncomfortable silence.

She narrowed her eyes, trying to assert her way inside. “What the fu—”

“Hey, girlie. Back the hell off before I call the police,” you warned with a hand pushed to her sternum. She insisted on being unruly, so you snatched your taser from the entryway table, the telltale blue sparks and sharp whip of static causing the woman to jolt back with alarm.

“You’re both insane!” she shouted from the hallway, the stomp of her heels reverberating off the walls as she made her way to the stairwell.

With a relieved sigh deflating your chest, you eased the door shut. Leaned against it, glancing at the man of the hour. He was still fast asleep, his leg dangling off the edge of your sofa. You smirked knowingly, shaking your head as you disappeared into your bedroom.

You’d let him sleep for as long as he needed. And you’d give him shit when he awoke about his taste in acquaintances.

(Sylus): hungry? (You): a little. was gonna make some ramen if you want (Sylus): 🤢 (Sylus): that stuffs terrible for your digestion sweetie. (Sylus): how about i make you dinner instead ? (Sylus): at the supermarket. need anything? (You): 😲😲😲 (You): you keep spoiling me and i might think you like me (Sylus): 😏 (You): nvm. no don’t need anything. lemme know when you’re back (You): i can help with groceries (Sylus): now who likes who? (You): fkdkos (Sylus): ? (You): sorry fat fingers

You have a nasty habit of not using your peephole as of late.

Your apartment came with one for a reason. Sure, your neighborhood’s been pretty tame since you’ve moved here. But that doesn’t mean the occasional weirdo doesn’t slip past security, roaming the halls and startling the other tenants.

You’ve found yourself forgoing the use of it a lot lately, given the only person who typically knocks on your door is the guy across the hall. And he usually calls or texts before he bugs you, but that doesn’t stop him from being spontaneous. You suppose today is one of those such cases after he manipulated you with dinner.

Maybe his hands are full, you muse, unlocking your door. Though you’re doubtful he can’t handle a few bags. You’ve seen him in action at the community gym, thick cords of muscle rippling beneath a tan stretch of skin.

You draw the door open with a smile, expecting to see a customary thatch of white. What confronts you instead sends a tide of dread washing over your innards.

“Oh, thank God you’re home,” breathes a voice you haven’t heard in months. A voice that still makes your body stiffen, and your blood run cold.

When your senses return, you step back into your apartment, thoroughly intending to slam the door in your ex’s face. They’re quicker, however, wedging themselves in the gap before you can shut it. Grabbing for you, a crazed look warping their features.

“Baby, please! Talk to me! I miss you!”

You bat at their hand, trying vainly to crush them, to scare them off. It’s to no avail, and you wonder if they’re coked up, giving you a run for your money as they try to bully their way into your home.

There’s a softball bat propped on the wall, and your fingers brush the base of it in your attempt to grab it. Something to defend yourself since your taser’s out of reach, tucked somewhere in your bag.

The sounds of your struggle intermingle, your voice strained and panting, please please please, and your ex’s caught between sobs of your name.

Just a little further. Just—

Suddenly, there’s no more resistance in your door. You stumble against it, a wild look in your eyes. And then, there is the noise of a brief scuffle. Of a back being shoved against a wall, of rusting plastic bags, of “Who the fuck are you?!”

Amid your panicked frenzy, you glance up to see a back to you. Barring you from the view beyond your threshold, and your body’s awash with relief as you register your savior’s form.

“You would do well to piss off,” seethes Sylus, and there’s an edge to his voice you’ve never heard before. You feel it furling in your stomach, burning your lungs. And in this moment, you don’t know who to be more afraid of.

Your ex makes a sound of protest, but you imagine the cut of Sylus’ eyes deterring them.

There is the scuffling of shoes across the concrete flooring of the breezeway, and you listen with bated breath until the cacophony fades at the foot of the stairs, willing your heart to ease down.

Scarlet eyes shift to you, brows knit with concern. “Who was that?” Sylus asks, tone cautious as if he doesn’t want to startle you more than you’ve already been.

You right yourself, smoothing out the wrinkles of your clothes. Finally grab your bat, waving it intimidatingly as you step aside to let your neighbor in.

“My stupid ex. Just know you saved their life. ‘cause I was gonna—” You make swinging gestures, the metal bat swooping in the air. The corners of Sylus’ eyes crinkle.

“Slow down before you hurt yourself.” He kneels to retrieve the bags he’d tossed down in his haste to intervene. You scurry over to help, gathering up spilled food.

Once you’re both inside, the bags placed haphazardly on the counter, you’re seated on your sofa, nursing the rush of adrenaline still spuming through you like the hot rush of a geyser.

“You need to get a restraining order,” says Sylus. He emerges from your kitchen with a tense set to his jaws, two bottles of Angry Orchard clasped between his fingers.

Plopping down beside you, an arm draped over the headrest, he shoves a bottle into your hand, side-eyeing you as he throws his head back for a swig.

You babysit the cider, the crisp condensation of it serving to ground you. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I’m not asking, sweetie.”

You bristle under the weight of his tone, feeling much like a scolded child. You know this. Should’ve done it long ago the first time your ex took it upon themselves to do surprise pop-ups at your place—at your job.

“And an alarm system.”

“I know, I know.”

“I can take you right now to look for one—”

“I got it, Sy! Fuck, I-I got it.” You release a weighted sigh, warring with yourself.

Not only do you feel silly for being so lackadaisical with your life. But now, you feel even worse for the seemingly impenetrable silence that settles between you. You didn’t mean to yell, frustration and adrenaline having burbled to the surface. He was just worried. No need to take your emotions out on him.

Sylus exhales slowly, an unreadable expression descending onto his face whilst staring at the wall.

“Sorry,” you murmur, unconsciously patting his quad. You don’t miss how he stiffens; don’t miss the tight coiling of tendons in his neck. You retract your hand, instead drumming your fingers along the bottom of your bottle.

“I’m assuming this isn’t the first time this has happened,” queries Sylus in an attempt to dispel the tense atmosphere.

You shake your head, shrinking into yourself. Stare at your lap, pulling at some frayed threads in your bottoms.

“How did they even manage to get up here?”

You shrug. The security guards at the gates aren’t always the most attentive. Besides, sometimes, the pin pad leading into the lobby malfunctions, making it easier for anyone to just slip into your complex.

Unprompted, you begin to bare yourself, explaining the possibilities of why your ex showed up.

Sylus listens attentively. Doesn’t interrupt you, watching the subtle shifts of your expressions as you speak.

You tell him that things weren’t bad in the beginning about two years ago. How your ex said and did all the right things, and they were wonderful. But they wanted something you weren’t ready for. You had some growing up to do, so you broke things off. Moved to another city, started a new job.

You didn’t bank on them following you.

The visits were random at first. Occasional run-ins at the park, the bar. Things soon blossomed into something more concerning when your ex found your new address after you relocated to another part of the city to ease the stress of the commute.

This was their second time making an appearance at your door. You knew you should’ve done something to protect yourself sooner, but you didn’t think much of it then. Figured they would live and let be. Today proved otherwise.

“You’re grossly naive, sweetie.”

You snort before gulping down the remnants of your cider. “Way to make me feel better.”

He chuckles, and it’s comforting, your thighs pressing together amid your dinky couch. “It’s what I’m here for. But I could understand how you could drive someone to such extremes.”

You glare at him. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means…”

Before you know what’s about, he’s panning in, flooding your vision with the scarlet shine of his eyes. With the wispy dance of his lashes until his breath fans over your molten cheeks. Limber fingers sneak beneath your chin, slightly tilting your head back.

Warmth wades over you. Your breath swells in your chest. Lips purse as a mysterious shade of burgundy leaks over his irises. His voice drops a few octaves, husky, the sound of it pinching in your stomach.

“It means that you’re someone worth fighting for.”

You scoff, shaking yourself away from his hold. Ignore the bashfulness creeping into your face in favor of being a cheeky little shit.

“All right, Li Shang. Getting a little too serious over there.”

He huffs a laugh in response, popping up to grab another round of ciders from your fridge.

Ingredients sat untouched on the countertop as your evening eased by. You’d settled on a pizza, catching up on shows and talking, long after the moon had pinned itself to the center of the sky.

Sylus promised to teach you how to use a gun. He had plenty and would carve out time in his schedule to take you to a range. He didn’t press much after, instead letting the weight of your evening melt from your shoulders.

He was reluctant to leave you, even after sunbeams spilled through your blinds and you snoozed so quietly, cheek propped against his shoulder.

His hand never left your thigh. Possessive in its touch as he mirrored your affections from before.

It’s strange.

Today is your birthday. You’re enjoying yourself, filled with enough alcohol to tranquilize a small goat.

Your co-workers had dragged you out. Surprised you with dinner, a cake. Took you to the strip of bars lining the streets adjacent to your apartment complex. You were all smiles until your cheeks ached, and you’d nearly thrown up from laughing so much.

Still, you feel…empty. Like something is missing. Or someone.

You look at your phone for the umpteenth time. Scroll through your messages, reliving the moment in your head.

Sylus was the first to wish you a happy birthday. It made you swell with overwhelming happiness, knowing he’d woken up so early to be the first to say it. You don’t think you’ve ever cried harder when he sent a voice message of him singing “Happy Birthday.”

God, for everything he was good at, poor baby couldn’t hold a note to dig himself out of a hole. Still, you cherished the gesture, lying in bed for the first hour you’d been awake, replaying said message and rolling around your bed like an enamored teen.

Even now, you replay the voice note, holding the speaker to your ear. It’s hard to hear it amid the live band playing and the merriment around you at the bar. Try as you might to enjoy what remains of your night, you can’t keep your thoughts from drifting back to a certain smug figure clad in black.

(You): 🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛💥💥💥 (Sylus): hows it going birthday babe? (You): 😭😭😭 (You): u shuld be her e (Sylus) im sorry sweetie. i had some work to catch up on. (Sylus): you must be having a good time. 😏 (You): fuk wrk 🖕🖕🖕 (You): am not drink ur dronk (Sylus): lol. you sound plastered. (Sylus): do i need to come rescue you? (You): hum (Sylus): ? (You): hone (You): home (Sylus): 🫤 (Sylus): we need to have a serious talk about you enabling autocorrect. (You): r u (You): home (Sylus): about to be. why ?? (Sylus): sweetie?

Somehow, you find yourself staring at the glossy, black numbers embossed on the top center of his door. 302. It’s ingrained in your memory. You’d probably find your way to his apartment with your eyes closed, driven to it by the familiar smell and homeliness it exudes.

You’re still a little tipsy. Took some time to sober up as best you could before ditching your friends and catching an Uber back to your complex. You had enough sense to gather everything you’d shown up with. Didn’t hitch a ride with any strangers regardless of how many of them tried to pull you into their arms as you stumbled out of the bar.

You had a one-track mind. Only wanted to spend the rest of your birthday with him.

With a goofy smile plastered on your face, you knock on his door. You’re singing that infectious song you can’t get out of your head when it swings open.

“Apateu-pateu, apateu-pateu,” you chant, shaking your hips from side to side.

He greets you with an omniscient smirk, eyes softening whilst leaning against the doorframe. “Well, hello, birthday babe.”

“Sup!” you return a little too enthusiastically, pitching forward until Sylus steadies you with his hands. You giggle like a drunken fool, peering at him. Hadn’t realized how good his hands felt, searing through the fabric of your top.

Come to think of it, you hadn’t noticed many things about him before. His lips are a pretty shade of pink. Skin textured, nose sharp, cheeks high. Little flecks of amber dwell between the scarlet rinse of his eyes. His hair falls into his face, damp from the shower he probably had before answering the door.

“I take it you had a good night,” he says, gaze painting a steady triangle between your eyes and mouth.

“Almost,” you whisper back, surprised by the huskiness of your voice. You lose yourself in the idle stir of his eyes. In the fragility of his smile, and you feel so safe in his hands like this.

You don’t know what compels you to do it. To conquer the space of hot, dizzying breaths between you. But, you sort of…well…

Your inhibitions hit the floor. With your fingers wrapped tenderly around his wrists, you angle yourself closer to kiss him. You almost pull away when he stiffens. But he seemingly relaxes, and his lips cautiously move against yours as he unconsciously guides you closer.

You cling to the sleeves of his sweatshirt. He encircles your waist in his powerful arms, fastening you to the hard press of his body. He kisses you like he’s waited lifetimes to do it, one hand molding around the apple of your cheek.

When your tongue sloppily prods the barrier of his teeth, he bristles. Draws away from you with a resounding smack, blinking wildly. You’re confused. Your heart sinks. You try again to draw him back in, but he gently pushes you away, shaking his head to dispel the bleariness. To chase away the spell that’s fallen over you.

“Baby, wait. No. Not…not like this,” he rasps through kiss-swollen lips, holding you by your hips. You’re wounded. A hot flush of embarrassment washes over you, and your brows knit together like those of a confused puppy.

“Wha-what’s wrong? Did I—am I—”

“No, no, you’re…you're perfect,” he soothes with a chuckle, a thumb gliding over your bottom lip. “Beautiful, even. I just…I don’t think now is a good time to do this.”

“Oh.” You deflate, a scorching film of tears clouding your vision. “Oh, okay. Um, I’ll just—yeah, I’ll go. I’ll…see you around, I guess.”

You slide out of his arms, too mortified to look back as you fumble with your keys. After he murmurs a hoarse, “good night.” Did you misread him before? Misinterpret his actions, his words?

You’re numb as you sink into your couch. Sobriety slowly creeps in. Stray tears blister your cheeks, but you don’t full-on sob. Can’t bring yourself to, instead laughing hysterically with your face buried in your hands, swallowed by the bleak loneliness of your apartment.

Happy Birthday, indeed.

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #neighbor au #neighbors to friends #friends to lovers #sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus love and deepspace #qin che #sylus fluff #sylus romance #lnds x reader #love and deepspace fic #gn reader

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razorblade180 · 2 months ago

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Together again

Carmine:Mom? Can I ask an odd question?

Ruby:If an odd question is asked by an odd girl to her odd daughter, isn’t it just normal? *flips pancakes* All ears.

Carmine:Hypothetically, if I met you at my age, who would win in a fight?

Ruby:Hmmm good question. You’re fifteen so, you kick my ass. Even if I’m thinking about me in Beacon.

Carmine:Really?

Ruby:I was scrappy but very kick-able unfortunately. Your birthday is close so if we’re entertaining this seriously then I think my journey to Haven still wouldn’t be enough.

Carmine:And Atlas?

Ruby:I fear I kick your ass. I was really hitting my stride at that point. Plus I was pretty temperamental then. We might punch the spit out of each other for a bit.

Carmine:That’s interesting. Guess I’m not as far behind as I imagined.

Ruby:I wouldn’t compare your progress to mine. Life is pretty different from when I was your age.

Carmine:I can’t compare myself to my peers since they all suck! You might’ve saved the world a little too hard. Not many cream in the crop anymore.

Ruby:Ha! You overestimate me. Sure, I killed Salem in a pretty fantastic way, but I don’t think i curved the skill level of the world. There are plenty huntsmen that were underwhelming growing up. Then some of them are late bloomers.

Carmine:Do late bloomers survive?

Jaune:*walks in* I did. For the most part.

Carmine:You were a late bloomer?

Jaune:Yeah I sucked.

Ruby:*scrambling eggs* Don’t listen to him. Your father did not suck. He was painfully average for quite a while.

Jaune:That doesn’t sound any better.

Ruby:You were starting from scratch; it’s only natural. I’m not a fan of trail by fire but your father made every experience that for himself. Paid off in in the end.

Carmine:How did you keep up before that?

Jaune:Your mother was in love with me so she stuck to my side.

Ruby:*red* That is not the reason!

Jaune:I mean it kinda is.

Ruby:Carmine, as a leader and someone who influenced others to go with her, I wouldn’t leave them behind. That’s bad leadership and a recipe for disaster.

Jaune:She was mostly worried about something happening to me and being too far ahead meant potentially losing me, the person she loved.

Ruby:….*flips pancakes* It was a valid fear.

Jaune:*kisses her head* It was.

Carmine:Hmm, that makes sense. You would be more effective together.

Ruby:Am I sensing a bit of longing to have a team?

Carmine:Nah. Not really. They’d definitely make things more of a hassle. Although, I will admit aimless chatter around a campfire and meals makes me a little envious. The past two years at Beacon were pretty dull solo.

Ruby:Friendship feeds the soul. There’s people here in Vacou I know that will be happy to see your face around. Even of the conversations are awkward, make sure to greet them. I know Aero probably misses you~

Carmine:Heh, is that so? Guess that should be more first stop. *stands up* I’m heading out.

Ruby:Huh!? But breakfast! It’s almost all done.

Carmine:Yeah, but….it’s not dad’s breakfast soooooo.

Ruby:What’s wrong with my pancakes! They’re awesome!

Carmine:I never said they were bad. It’s just that compared to dad’s, I fear they’re painfully average.

The girl smiled as she slowly grabbed one anyways and held it with her mouth as she waved goodbye before leaving out the front door with an apple.

Ruby:…..

Jaune:And just like her mother, she is my number one defender.

Ruby:I put so much love into these!

Carmine, in the distance: I CAN TASTE IT!

Ruby:*squints* I don’t think that makes me feel better.

Jaune:There’s always lunchtime.

#rwby #ruby rose #carmine arc rose #jaune arc #rwbabies #rwby au #rwby rosebud

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butchlesbiancosmo · 5 months ago

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i'm already posting art on this blog???? fucked up if true

i've seen a lot of people make their own redesigns of AW and i've seen some really, REALLY good ones. like DAMN. to me though, she's gotta be a cowgirl with rabies <3

more ramblings about this southern beast belle under the cut:

when she and AC met (in fairy high school, like Cosmo and Wanda), they HATED each other. like "mauling each other ON SIGHT" hated each other. she literally bit him so many times

(it actually was less hate and more "oh you're deranged. that's hot" except neither of them was able to be normal about it. so)

she teased anti cosmo soooooo much. she was the only one who wasn't afraid of him and he loved hated that. she constantly got on his case about being "so prim and proper all the time like some COWARD" (what she really wanted was for him to go apeshit for once)

after one particularly rough session of "mauling each other like wild dogs" they finally found a mutual respect for each other (and also aggresively made out). from then onwards they became a couple (much to the misfortune of the rest of the universe). Eventually they usurped the Anti-Fairy Council together and have ruled over anti fairies ever since

Wanda isn’t like….particularly a genius; she’s just patient, responsible and kind. Hence, Anti Wanda’s not an idiot: she just acts before she thinks and prefers it that way. She’s got no patience for elaborate plans which sometimes puts her at odds with her husband, but she more than makes up for it by barreling her way through like a goddamn force of nature

She’s also rude and, well….crass. When she can afford to. It drives her husband crazy (in both the good and bad sense lmao)

Personality-wise I picture her being similar to The Noise from Pizza Tower. Silly goofy on the surface but my god she has SO many rabies and will most likely kill you. Extremely chaotic evil <3

Prefers to have her wand be in the shape of a revolver that shoots magic. There is no real practical reason for this other than aesthetics. She’s a pretty good markswoman tbh

She still eats with her feet

She and anti cosmo bring out the worst of each other (affectionate). they match each other’s freak and they absolutely make it everyone else’s problem <3

#anti wanda #anti coswan #my art #fairly oddparents #fop #I SUPPORT WOMENS' WRONGS!!!!!!

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lafox · 2 years ago

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Luis Sera Headcanon [Collab] SFW/NSFW

Author note: hi everyone. I know it has been Ages but im back with a little gift for all of you and i collab with @sattiene my beloved <3 thank you so much for her input and help because it really helped me out get back in the mix of things. i really missed writing HC for characters soooooo ! My ask are now open! YEY!

anyways i'll let you enjoy this Hc!:

SFW HC:

Meeting you for the first time in the events of the Las Plagas incident, the first thing he says to you is:

"I just have one important question. Do you have a smoke?"

Manipulation through his puppy eyes.

“Oye, Senorita. Mind a smoke?” *insta puppy eyes*

Probably ‘almost’ fluent in French and would brag about it to you only (hmmm wonder why)

Grows every so fond of you when you laugh off his flirting towards you.

But what made him fall in love even more was when you suddenly started to flirt back.

He stutters, is flustered but quickly come back with another flirt (it's a war now)

One time, he was playing around with his lighter while walking, to which you added a remark:

“Hm.. Does this skill also apply in the bedroom?” You smirked.

The man was shooken (idk this isn't a word) and closed his lighter shut.

He shook his head and chuckled,

“There is only one way to find out, ay?” He said looking back at you.

Oh boy…

He tries to lighten up the mood as Leon isn’t much of a jokester.

And when you laugh at his jokes and Leon doesn't, he points it out:

“Ay, see Y/N likes my jokes.”

If you are imprisoned, you bet your ass Luis is gonna be your knight in shining armor.

You’ll scream to whoever, to get you out when it’s Luis that peaks his head and saves you his only comment will be:

“Oh so that's what you sound like, hm?”

Alternatively : You are captured and tied up unconscious. He is at your rescue once more and sees you tied up. He would whistle and look away for a minute, putting his fist close to his mouth before snapping out of it and helping you out.

When you wake you bet your ass he will hit you with the oldest pick up line to this day like:

"Oh chica. I've been told I look heavenly, but you're not in heaven yet."

Is it raining? No problem Luis is to the rescue:

“Where are my manners?” He says as he takes off his jacket and hovers it on top of your head.

Oh shit! A flight hatchet coming your way! But don't worry, again, Luis is at the rescue,

Hugging you as he pushes both of you away and falls down.

Well now it's an awkward situation as you are now on top of him. You lift yourself to meet with Luis’ face closer than expected.

Of course he shots a flirtatious grin accompanied with his eyebrows raising up.

What he would do to get your attention or to be close to you i swear…

He is down bad for you that's for sure.

It's impressive when you see Leon in action, a break at the shooting range is always a great pause for everyone, which helps make Luis and you grow closer.

But the music made your feet tap to the beat and that, Luis noticed.

He gently grabbed your hand, waiting a few seconds to know if he was denied and when you didn’t reject his advance, dragged you to dance.

You giggled, you weren’t much of a dancer but the beat was so good and the moment was so right, it made you become one.

That was when you were charmed by him.

When you get separated, Luis will call you on the radio any chance he gets.

“Hola. Aaah I'm glad you picked up princesa. I’m at the ballroom, come over. We can continue our little dance. Don’t be late to the party!”

When you are a bit more separate from Leon and Ashley, you call Luis and you guys chat

“How's your search? Are you okay so far?” you asked. “Always so worried for me, lindura~” “I miss you too don’t worry” He adds.

He would scare you by hugging you from behind

Which ultimately ends in you pointing your gun at him

"Whoa whoa, cariño. chill. it's just me, your loverboy."

Would take pictures of you on his flip phone but the pictures are some of the worst moments of you looking surprised, zoning out, or sweaty with dirt on your face cause you were almost killed by a villager.

You ask him to delete it but nah this man puts it as his wallpaper and keeps it forever.

If you are infected with las Plagas, he becomes serious

Will still be flirtatious to calm his own anxiety

At the operation table, will hold your hand while killing the plaga

Would turn his head away as it is agony for him to hear you scream in pain

"I know, I know bebe. I'm here. shhh, shh,"

Let a tear fall and wipes it after the operation finish

Man, he thought he lost you!

But enough heart breaks!

The man is clingy! He loves you so much he always want you close

For example; you want to make breakfast for the both of you in the morning but no no no you are not escaping with his arms wrapped around your waist

"Nooooo, mi amor, stay," He whines in his morning voice.

Will be hugging you from behind while you cook breakfast.

You can feel his stubble tickling your neck

Everything is perfect.

The embodiment of chivalry

Opens doors for you, pushes your seat for you allllll the time.

NSFW HC

He is loud and not scared to be

Moan, groans, whimpers, yeah you are getting the whole service.

Service top/ dom

Mutters some Spanish when he is really really into it.

His foreplay is insane the man is a teaser;

Hand on your thigh just slowly but surely making his way through your core as he kisses your neck and tells you sweet nothing. (how could it not melt to that!)

You are always his top priority

Can go on for hour for your pleasure only (pls don’t make him pass out i beg you)

Cracks jokes if you are anxious, just to see you smile and relax, that’s already a win for him.

Mf does the petal of roses on the bed thingy on the special occasion (with scented candles ofc!)

Nice dinners and dancing before a night of love.

Sex isn't a shameful topic to him and will tease about it.

If you tease him back about his performance he will backfire at you, its constant banter!

Weakness for lace in lingerie: He would fall weak if he slowly discovered you are wearing a set of lingerie while he takes off your clothes

“You wore this for me cariño.” and also will have his puppy eyes activated.

Would brag about you all the time and show that you are his girl as he marks you

He loves when you mark him, telling him you are his and that he is yours.

Covered with your lipstick is so hot to him, shows how much you love him.

Takes pictures of all the above

His biggest turn on? When you ride him.

Holy fuck does he love it so much, just digging his hands on your thighs and trusting at the same beat as your riding makes him melt.

You taste heavenly to him and he loves to eat you out

Face riding? Yes please!

Makes him so horny you bet that shit makes him precum.

Type of guy to continue slowly thrusting in when done cause God Damn you feel good, he doesn’t want it to end!

Not into the harcord stuff like BDSM and such but would be willing to try for you

“So you’re into that stuff ay..”

His favorite positions are any where he can see your beautiful face

He will never call you names like ‘slut’ and stuff “that's not a gentlemen’s ways”

You tried your best to please him first but Luis can’t hear any of that: “Ladies first” kinda treatment

“Why don’t we switch it up tonight, let me start with you~” you said as you pressed your fingertips on his pecks, going ever so slowly down.

He shook his head as he chuckled. “You know my policy mi amor” He takes your hand to wrap in around his neck as he positions you on your back while kissing you

I mean, you can’t resist him.

First time he makes you squirt, the man will be so proud of himself

Will use that fact against you in arguments: “didn’t you gush all over me last night?? yeah that’s what i thought.”

With a smug ofc

Tell you how beautiful you are especially while making you cum

Best aftercare, hugs, kisses, shower, and caresses.

The man Orders you to stay put when he cleans up, its “his mess not yours”

#luis sera #luis serra #luis sera x reader #luis serra x reader #resident evil #resident evil 4 #re4 remake #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil x reader #luis sera x you #resident evil x you #re4 #re4r #headcanon #luis sera headcanon

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aayakashii · 10 days ago

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I’m so excited for the new story but I’m so caught up in the image of y’all trying to figure out whatever curse or anomaly caused the whole animal hybrid thing, but Haru is just too distracted by how much he wants to hump you. He knew the phrase breeding like rabbits before, but goddamn is he really /learning/ it right now. (The other two feel it too, I love the MC being totally fine while all three are basically in ruts and trying not to mount her immediately (minus Towa. He is not trying to hold back. Idk how he isn’t immediately attached to the MC, nana is already attached without a magical rut))

Just:

MC, living her best life with some cute cat ears and a playfully swishing tail, enjoying the sunshine: la de da da

All Jabberwock boys: if I do not mount and breed her in the next 0.5 seconds, i will kill everyone and everything. (As they grind against anything around them, waiting for their chance to strike.)

👻

👻 ANON I'M CLUTCHING MY CHEST RN

nsfw talk below so minors do not interact please 🫵 and if you don't like this type of content just keep scrolling, remember you can curate your experience online 😙

Omfg I can only imagine Haru constantly blushing, from his neck up to his cheeks and ears, and rubbing his thighs together while he feels how his arousal just won't let him have a moment of peace 😖 I think he'd do his best not to let his urges be too obvious, but eventually he'd be so fucking horny that he'd be squeezing a hand between his thighs and sweating bullets whenever he came near you... you know what in hell is bad? I'm picturing him just like Phenix, trying to keep his cock from twitching, trying to hide how he's already half mast just by looking at you

This is Phenix btw lol

He'd look so cute though....... his face all red and trying to keep his whines and moans to himself while walking through jabberwock and feeling the friction of his thighs and his pants on him :( I think he'd do his best not to jerk off because he's so busy! He needs to work!! The dorm needs tending to!!! So he just ends up edging and torturing himself forever, but his composure might break once he sees you </3

Ren though...... he would 100000% jerk off to keep his urges contained 💀 he's a neet, I just know he knows his hands way too well 😔 it doesn't work much though, as soon as he gets a little sniff of you near him, he gets braindead immediately due to the horny LMAO all he can think is about knotting you and having you locked with him for hours on end while he fills you up </3 he's probably the only one that might not act upon his urges though, because he's so freaking insecure that it might actually keep him from trying to fuck you. But if you give him just a little bit of an opening..... oh he's gone. He will be knotting you for as long as that situation is going on :(

AND YOU ARE RIGHT ABT TOWA he just wouldnt try to contain himself 💀 pretty sure he'd just bat his eyelashes at you and pout while asking to fuck you... with a little side dish of manipulation like "Dandelion, you won't be mean, right? You'll help me through this, right? You wont leave me suffering on my own, RIGHT?" and he'd be so insistent too... he'd probably straight up jerk off in front of you while saying that, just to get his point across :/ it's best to just accept his advances because he won't stop :/ at least he can keep you hidden from the other two, since he's jealous and hates sharing soooooo... look at the brighter side??

And let's not even talk about how they could try to satisfy their urges with each other while they think about you (∗´艸`∗)

#tokyo debunker #ask #tokyo debunker headcanons #mdni #nsft #haru sagara #ren shiranami #towa otonashi #👻 anon

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puppetwoman17 · 4 months ago

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So I see that a lot of YouTubers are getting around to reacting to the Young Justice cartoon. And that’s great! Like that’s actually great, it’s one of my favorite shows and I will forever chant season five in my head.

There’s only the teeny tiny voice in my head that keeps saying how bad it feels for Billy when his identity was revealed. I hope I’m wording this right. Cause I’m not saying I don’t absolutely love the show. It’s just…

Cause we never see the aftermath of the meeting in I think s1 ep22 where they choose who becomes a JL membrr(sry if I’m wrong). Like we know Billy gets to stay, but I just know it must’ve been hard to deal with teammates who didn’t trust him anymore. Who just see a kid. We have no idea what the relationship Billy has with the league was before the identity reveal. Who he was close with, who was suspicious of him, that sort of thing. We just know that after the reveal, everyone was really unsure of what to do with the magic child.

Imagine what was going through Billy’s head. The Wizard said he was worthy. Hell, the gods said he was worthy. And after years of fighting it, even he thought he was worthy. And then his heroes, his coworkers, push that all down and try to dictate his hero life. During identity reveal fics I also laugh at how they think they can stop his heroism when he’s the literal champion of magic. Like he HAS to be a superhero. You can’t just tell the Champion to quit.

You know what that does? That leads fucking Doctor Fate to your door. Zatanna. Specter. Hell, Lady Blaze. Even the beings who hate Cap know they need him. If they were to hear that some hero team from Earth was the reason for him to quit, they would go BALLISTIC.

Shit I went on a tangent.

Well anyway back to what I was saying before. We don’t see much of Billy’s relationship with the League after this episode. We do know his relationship with the covert team gets better, so that’s cool. But it just rubs me the wrong way how he was such an integral part of getting the adult and child worlds to collide and then they do this.

Idk that’s basically all I wanted to say. Again, I hope I worded this right. I love YJ, I just get a sense of dread when I see it😅.

ALSO ONE FINAL THING.

I am soooooo mad that season five isn’t a thing. Because I know this might be a stretch, but I just have a Feeling that they might’ve wanted to explore Billy or the Rock or whatever(cause of Black Mary, which, btw, I’m still salty about).

Every time, guys. Every time we could be getting something Cap related they just tbrow it out the window.

#billy batson #captain marvel #dc #young justice #justice league #identity reveal #cartoon

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fizziepopangel · 25 days ago

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A Fizziepop Take: Let’s talk about the next 100 years

Oh. My. God.

Did everyone watch what I just watched? Because I literally can’t right now! I swear to god my anxiety was so high from start to finish of this episode. Vivzie really did it with this one, because I was almost at a loss for words…. ALMOST. But the “Mastermind” episode was like a big beefy steak and potatoes smothered in gravy with a glass of wine; there’s just too much to sink my teeth into, starting with Stolas being stripped of his power, so let’s get into it.

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD

“Stolas, I hereby strip you of your status, your power, and your title for the next hundred years.”

Stolas’ face after hearing that he was being stripped bare of his title was literally heartbreaking because Stolas is not only stripped of the title and the respect that came with it, or even just the power he’s grown accustomed to…. Stolas is stood in front of a group of his peers and stripped of everything he has ever known. Everything. His daughter, his home, everything is just suddenly off limits for him. And after living for the Goetia and only the Goetia for 30-something years, Stolas isn’t accustomed to living as a common type demon, especially a common type demon ranking as low as he is currently who has literally nothing. To go from a prince with a mansion and a daughter and a home to being basically having no one, being homeless, and having people throw things at you on the street is a BIG step. And with zero preparation for such a big change, it must have been the shock of a lifetime….. But then we get to the last bit of Satan’s punishment for him: “...for the next hundred years.” So it isn’t that bad, right? Ehhhhhhh…..

Ok, so let’s really break it down and think about what exactly the hundred years could hold for the former Goetia prince.

Homelessness and potential poverty

Soooooo… I know that technically Blitz has taken Stolas in, but given the current state of their relationship, we can’t really be sure that will last. As a Stolitz fan myself, I was internally screaming when Blitz took him in and started caring for him because AHHHHHHHHH….. But Blitz also has a tendency to self-sabatoge relationships with the people he loves the most, and a long history of not being able to communicate wants, needs, or anything really outside of being drugged with a truth serum, being in a seriously life-threatening situations, or being on the tail end of a breakdown, and now with Stolas being in an even more vulnerable state than he was before, I’m not sure we’re going to be getting the full Stolitz comeback we all want quite yet… And that may mean Stolas not staying in Blitz’s apartment quite as long as he probably would have prior to the events of “The Full Moon” and “Apology Tour” since we see the prince trying to move past the relationship and into a new era of his life. We may also see him struggle financially if his assets are affected by this banishment, and from the loss of his title and home, I think there’s a good chance that that is the case. While I do see Blitz offering to make a place for Stolas at IMP, with his now limited powers and lack of experience in the workplace, and in hell as a common place demon, it may not be something that is completely feasible right now…. And that brings us to the 2nd thing we might see in upcoming episodes:

Falling back into bad habits

Despite the fandom’s love for Stolitz, I think we can all agree that while love did come of it eventually, Blitz was one of the prince’s bad habits in the beginning. Blitz, for Stolas, was a rebellion, a sort of ‘fuck you’ to the life he had planned out because of his place as demon royalty…. And now as a just a mere demon with no power and no status, things could go the complete opposite direction from what I mentioned earlier, and he may run right back to the familiarity of Blitz with no regard for whether there has been a change made on either of their parts or not, which could also set Blitz back since Stolas wouldn’t necessarily care if he was treating him better or not, so he might lose the motivation to want to be a better version of himself. Both men need support outside of just each other, and while Blitz has it within his IMP family (as well as a lot of support from his community now), Stolas doesn’t.

Now, don’t get me wrong, M&M and Loona will more than likely step up to support Stolas in this time, if not solely for the fact of him being the man Blitz loves, because they all know that what Stolas did was something he didn’t technically have to do for them all, BUT Stolas lost his title and (seemingly) access to everything relating to that, including his daughter who is arguably his only true family that we’ve seen since the flashback of him and his father when he was a literal child. Now, keep in mind that this man stayed in a relationship with someone who physically abused him, and tormented him mentally and emotionally for years, all for his daughter. Has he been the best dad? No, not by a long shot, but Loona does have a point in “Seeing Stars”, when she explains to Octavia that parenting is complicated and sometimes parents make mistakes despite loving their children…. We see how important his daughter is to him a lot throughout the show, and with what Andrealphus said about Octavia now solely being cared for by her “wholesome parent” (*laughter*), we can pretty much guarantee that even if he wasn’t banned from seeing her, her mother and uncle would never allow it, and I think this will be something that could cause him to spiral, and possibly start picking up new bad habits, maybe even more harmful ones than we’ve seen him use to cope in the past.

Death

Stolas has had 2 attempts on his life that we know of so far… What’s to stop Stella from sending Striker back for him now? Technically she doesn’t need to, since her ex husband is unable to keep her from the fortune and power she and her brother had been after, but what better time to off him than when her daughter is still a minor and can’t take over his spot in the system of royalty, and he’s hated by so many people now?

She only has the next hundred years, and if she doesn’t do it now, she may lose th upper hand she has in this moment and she may not get another chance to have as much power as she has in this moment. But would Vivzie off Stolas? I don’t know, but she does everything for a reason in her shows, so we know she’s setting up for something big. Could it be another assassination attempt? Multiple attempts? More than just Striker going after him? It would be a good time to do it from the perspective of the characters, but would the death of a character so intertwined with the main protagonist of the series be a good idea? As a consumer of the content, I would literally be in tears at a death scene involving a character I’ve been allowed to get so attached to over the course of the series…. as a creator, someone who writes and enjoys the engagement that my content brings and enjoys creating the content I create, a major death like that would open up doors for plots that may not have been an option before and while it would shock the fandom, and while the fandom’s devastation could be catastrophic, it could all pull us further into the hell she’s created because we all love the characters still living and would all have a single question after seeing such a beloved character go: What comes next?

As a humble Fizziepop, I can’t say that I know what comes next, but after “Mastermind”, I can definitely say that I’ll be hoping for a more funny and light-hearted episode next time, but I’ll keep a box of tissues on standby incase Vivzie has another tear-jerking episode in store for us. What do you think the next hundred years might look like for Stolas? And what does everyone think will happen for the Stolitz ship?

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