#my likeness - artwork of Caleb

[tooblindtizzy]

(TDI23 SPOILERS)//

first boot club

[sillylilfang]

mh-hm. sure.

[bloodyvenomboy]

*slamming fist on table* BiG MAN BIG MAN BIG MAN

Caleb my beloved totally super normal human man

[kykyonthemoon]

rafayel and xavier with a reader that gets so stressed out she breaks down sobbing? 🥹

(and zayne if you want)

Soothing

Thank you for requesting!

🌻 Character x F!Reader

Masterlist

Part 2 - Comforting (for Sylus & Caleb)

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

When you entered the studio, Rafayel was resting on the sofa with his eyes closed.

“You're back already? How was the meeting with your old friends?"

He got to his feet just in time to witness the pearl-like tears that were cascading from your eyes. You quickly wiped it away, but Rafayel immediately came to your side and held your wrist.

"What's wrong? Did someone bully you?”

You hiccuped loudly. Rafayel wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his arms. "Tell me. Who dares to make my bodyguard cry?

You leaned against Rafayel, a cheek pressed against his chest. His heart rate shot through the roof, then steadily stabilized. The sound of his heart pounding was what you loved listening to, as it soothed you.

Waiting for your sobbing to pass, then you added:

“Sometimes being around other people is so tiring.”

Rafayel took a small step back. His hands circled your neck and raised your chin just enough to make you meet his gaze.

“Are… Are you sick of me? You're about to leave me again, is that true?"

You had to giggle at the pathetic and sulky look on his face. Rafayel was drawn closer by your arms encircling his hips, and you said:

"No. I'm talking about my group of friends. As for you, Rafayel, you are not even human.”

“That's right.” Rafayel exclaimed as his face brightened. “Then you don't have to be sad. If you no longer have friends on land, you still have fish in the aquarium, and in the sea. Fishies are waaaayyyy better than humans. Especially a particular fish that knows how to draw, sing and make you laugh.”

This time you laughed out loud, cracking in the room filled with Rafayel's artwork. He was right; you always had him and the ocean for company. You did not have to try to please everyone, but just the people who were most important to you.

“Thank you, Rafayel.” With a little tiptoe, you kissed his cheek, causing his face to flush.

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

As soon as you left the practice area, you caught a glimpse of Xavier waiting outside. You did your best to conceal the tears that were ready to fall, but they were still visible to him.

“What's the matter?”

"Nothing." With a forced smile, you replied. Of course, Xavier did not believe that.

“Are your test results not good?”

He had got you, so you just stared down at the ground. You were trying my best to stay calm, but all you wanted to do was cry out loud in his arms.

Seeming to know that, Xavier pulled you close. His hand gently stroked your hair, pausing now and again to pat your shoulder as a gesture of comfort.

“I… I've been practicing for months… And yet… I still couldn't pass that test…”

"It's not that bad. There haven't been many Hunters who had successfully completed that test. No need to be so harsh with yourself. You did very well, and you are always the best Hunter.”

Feeling Xavier's arms tighten, you sobbed again. It wasn't enough to simply aspire to the top; you also wanted to succeed in every test and every challenge. Given Xavier's level of expertise as a Hunter, you wanted to show that you were strong enough to accompany him and shield him without letting him worry about you everywhere, all the time.

Xavier waited for you to finish crying before gently suggesting:

“You know, getting plushies from claw machines is also a way to practice skills.”

“You just said that to cheer me up.”

However, when you thought about the cute plushies waiting to be taken home, you suddenly felt calmer. Why not, when the most adorable plushie in the world was standing in front of you, eyes wide open as if he was pleading with you to accompany him to the arcade?

“Are you sure you want to miss the special edition plushies this week?”

Xavier asked. You replied with a shake of your head.

"Of course you won't. Let's go then. The greatest Hunter in Linkon cannot be outplayed by any claw machine."

With a smile on your face, you held his hand. You might have failed this test, but you already won Xavier's heart.

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

You did not say anything to Zayne the whole way home. Yet Zayne remained silent, concentrating on driving without even asking you a single question, even though he knew just by looking at your face, you had had a very bad day.

The intense work made you exhausted. You had been under constant stress for around two weeks straight. The number of Wanderers appearing more and more seriously caused you to take on extra shifts, but that was nothing compared to the paperwork you had to report, or the secret meetings that lasted for hours.

Somewhere in your crazy schedule, you still hoped to receive a call, a text message from Zayne. But when you saw nothing on the phone screen, your heart sank even though you knew Zayne's work was very busy these days.

In any case, you were grateful that he took you home and agreed to cook dinner for you today. You decided not to let your stress bother him. But as soon as he put the bag of food on the kitchen counter, Zayne pulled you back and gave you a strong embrace from behind.

“Z-Zayne?” You were startled and couldn't move because he held you so tightly.

“Now, can you tell me what’s on your mind?”

His whispering voice and his warm breath made one of your ears turn red. You were confused:

“You noticed?...”

There was a sigh coming from behind you. Zayne let go of you, then turned you around to face him.

“I didn't ask, because I expected you to tell me everything only when you wanted first.”

The number of patients visiting Akso Hospital has also increased dramatically in recent days. Regular overtime work was required of Zayne. Yet he still maintained a calm attitude in all situations. Every day and every hour, he always tried to be better, to save more people. You should do the same and become stronger.

You sat up straight to look into his eyes. A smile flashed across Zayne's lips. He lifted your chin and wiped your face with a tissue.

"Do not be sad. A smile is much better on your face."

[freedomfireflies]

Tease Me*

Summary: An extra for Teach Me*

The one where you and your best friend, Harry, are invited to a Haunted House.

But ghosts aren’t the only fun thing about this party.

(For my non-spooky besties, the house isn't actually haunted! Just old and abandoned! There are no jump scares💞)

Word Count: 9.5k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, slight exhibitionism, Daddy kink, masturbation, creampie, slight breeding kink, fluff, subspace, Harry being a simp

“Holy…shit.”

The large mansion looms into view. A tall, skeletal structure that’s brightened by the soft glow of the full moon. Hidden behind tall pines and a collection of dancing shadows, it stands like a sentinel of forgotten secrets. Ivy drips from the rotting wood, and boards cover a majority of the windows. The once grand façade bearing the scars of time.

You can see a collection of breathtaking stained glass windows lining the top story of the house. You can’t exactly make out the artwork from this distance, but you know, undoubtedly, that they’re beautiful. Only imagining what those reflections might look like in the sunlight.

The car sneaks along the gravel driveway, the sound of rocks and crunching leaves following you every inch of the way. You feel your breath hitch as you glance over toward Harry, who returns your look with a cocked brow of his own.

He pulls up next to the only other car on the lot. Rather, the only other car for miles. From the passenger seat, you can see Charlie, Jackie, and Caleb all huddled around the hood, conversing in hushed voices, and waving at you both in greeting.

Harry shifts into park before leaning back in his seat to turn his attention to you. “Well?”

You suck in a quiet breath before nodding once. “It’s…spooky.”

“Mhm.”

“And…big.”

“Thanks, but I meant the house,” he replies cooly, and you can’t help but grin.

“Funny. Honestly, I don’t think this is what I was expecting.”

“No?” He considers this with a nod of his own. “I guess it’s more ugly than scary. Caleb said he used to come here all the time when he was a kid. His brother claimed it was haunted.”

“Ooo,” you tease, and Harry smirks. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

He lifts a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “I don’t ever really think about it.”

“That’s fair.”

Now his expression twists into something more mischievous as he leans closer to you. “But…if any ghosts come out and try to steal you from me, I have no problem sending ‘em back to the afterlife.”

You laugh again as you playfully swat your hand across his arm before surging forward to kiss him. “You’re an idiot, baby.”

“Yeah. But m’your idiot.”

“Unfortunately.”

He laughs.

With that, you both unbuckle your seatbelts and step out of the car, joining your friends just beside the front steps of the mansion. 

“Well, well, well,” Charlie grins, nodding his chin at the two of you. “Can’t believe you actually showed. Thought Har-Bear wasn’t into Halloween.”

Harry offers another shrug; relaxed but amused. “I’m not. But I wouldn’t mind seeing you get the shit scared out of you.”

Charlie’s expression falls while the rest of you laugh. “Okay, funny. Hysterical. Caleb’s the one that pissed himself when he was here last.”

“I was ten, dipshit,” Caleb snorts. “And I didn’t piss myself, I just screamed a little.”

“Right,” Jackie teases, nudging him with her elbow. “Whatever you say, champ.”

Caleb’s eyes roll, but he’s smiling as the five of you begin to make your way up onto the porch. “You’ll see. It’s spooky.”

“I’m sure we will, bud,” Charlie replies, tossing him a wink. “And after you go running back to the car in tears, we’ll make sure to lock up for you.”

“Thanks.”

“Welcome.”

With a soft laugh, Harry looks over at you. “You scared, Bee?”

“Me? Scared?” you snort. “Never.”

“Good.” He tosses his arm around your shoulder and tugs you into his chest. “Nothing to be scared of while I’m here.”

The other two boys pretend to be annoyed while Jackie offers you both a cheeky grin. “You guys are sickeningly sweet.”

“Oh, we know,” Harry answers impishly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I mean, I do a majority of the heavy lifting. But Bee’s pretty cute, too, I suppose.”

“Hysterical,” you deadpan, using your elbow to shove him away as you all approach the front door.

Your little group slows to a stop, exchanging glances and deep breaths as Caleb slowly says, “…are you ready?”

The air is laced with anticipation and excitement, and the four of you nod before his hand outstretches for the door.

 It opens with a shrill screech as a flock of birds fling from their spot on a nearby branch and take off into the ghostly night sky. 

With a deep breath, Caleb leads you all into the house, head held high, and shoulders back. The mansion is dark and the floorboards creak beneath your sneakers. The air is musky and cobwebs drape from each corner of the doorframe.

Quicky, you all search for your cellphones and flashlights, flipping them on to illuminate the path before you. Revealing a bit more of the corridor as you make your way inside.

“Shit,” Charlie murmurs, eyes wide as his focus flicks from wall to wall. “All right, maybe you weren’t kidding.”

“Told you,” Caleb retorts, peeking his head into the first room. “It’s not exactly scary, but it is cool as hell.”

“No kidding,” Jackie chimes in while you nod. “How many rooms are there?”

“No idea. But there are at least three levels. Plus, the attic, but Zac and I could never figure out how to get up there.”

“I’ll find it,” Charlie declares confidently, and Harry shoots you a knowing smirk. “What? If anyone can, it’s me.”

“I’m sure,” Caleb huffs, slipping in to what looks to be the drawing room. “By all means, go ahead. Honestly, we can split up and check out the other rooms. There’s a lot of cool shit here.”

Charlie nods once, running the light from his phone down one of the walls. Examining the faded wallpaper and dust-covered picture frames.

With a cock of his brow, Harry leans closer, nudging his shoulder against yours. “What do you say? Wanna do some exploring?”

You grin eagerly, nodding as well. “Yeah. Maybe we’ll find the attic first.”

You catch Charlie’s frown out of the corner of your eye, but the five of you can’t help but laugh as Harry leads you toward the next hallway.

The group disperses, with Charlie and Jackie searching the kitchen, Caleb ascending the stairs to the second floor, and you and Harry beginning for some of the bedrooms. 

The house is quiet. Eerily so, with only the sound of your footsteps to accompany you. And even with two flashlights, you can only see a portion of the narrow hallway at a time. From the wooden trim to the chipped paint. 

You fall in line behind Harry’s taller frame, allowing him to guide you toward the furthest room as he strides with a confidence you envy. Unaffected by the sounds, and smells, and ghostly aurora. 

“You all right back there, Bee?” he calls after a moment more of your silence. Seeming to catch your strained inhales and lack of commentary. “Still with me?”

“Yes,” you whisper, but it’s airy. As though your voice has been swept away by the hands of a ghost. “Just…trying not to trip.”

Even without seeing the full of his face, you can tell he’s smiling. “Come on, lovey, you know I’d catch you.”

“Uh-huh,” you murmur, lashes fluttering as you glance up toward the old chandelier dangling from the tall ceiling.

Suddenly, Harry stops, forcing you to catch yourself against him before he glances at you. “Hop on.”

Confused, you blink. “What?”

“Hop on,” he repeats, placing his cellphone between his teeth while crouching down. Allowing you access to his back in an invitation to climb up.

And once you finally understand, you can’t help but smile. Slipping your arms around his shoulders before hoisting yourself onto his body. Legs curling around his hips while his hands reach back to keep you sturdy.

Once you’re settled, you gently pull the phone from between his lips and aim the fluorescent gleam across the room. Providing him a bit more light to see as he straightens up.

“Thank you, baby,” he hums. “You all right?”

“Mhm. Are you?”

“Very. Just make sure to hold on, yeah?”

You grin a bit wider and tuck your chin over his shoulder. “Promise.”

With that, he begins down the hall, keeping his fingers tight around your ankles. “All right, baby dove, where do you wanna go first?”

Vaguely, you gesture toward the closest room. From the small sliver your light catches, you can see that it’s filled with large curtains and furniture draped in cloth. It looks…reminiscent. Calling to you and inviting you to step inside a lost era, a forgotten memory. 

He carries you closer, and as he strides through the murky corridor, you use the height advantage to look around. Taking in the more subtle details of the old house.

The hand railing beside the staircase. The broken floor beneath you. The cracked light fixtures and dusty bookshelves. 

You can’t imagine the life that was lived. The parties they threw, the elegance that sang from every corner, the memories that were created.

You wonder about the people who built it. Wonder what they were like, what made them leave. If they ever reminisce about the old house they used to call home.

“It’s beautiful,” you find yourself saying, exhaling the sentiment almost fondly.

Harry hums again, eyes trailing across the expanse of the carpet underneath his shoes. “Shame nobody ever bought it and fixed it up.”

“Yeah,” you agree quietly. “Maybe we should.”

He smiles at this, squeezing your legs a bit tighter. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm. Wouldn’t it be fun? A little passion project?”

“Maybe. Don’t know what we’d do with all this space, though.”

You shrug. “Well, we’d have plenty of room to storm off if we got into a fight.”

He laughs. “Yeah?”

“And we’d have plenty of places for…you know, other things.”

“Other things,” he repeats knowingly, glancing back with a smirk. “I do love our other things.”

You snuggle closer. “And if we ever wanted to start a family…we’d have room for that, too.”

He’s quiet now, his tongue slowly sweeping across his bottom lip in thought. “D’you think about our family, Bee?”

“I do,” you admit, almost sheepishly. “Sometimes. Not, like…right away, or anything. But…I just wonder, I guess. What you’d be like. What we’d be like.”

“Yeah? And how are we?”

“We’re good,” you tell him. “You’re the fun parent. Of course. And I’m the one that makes them do their homework and eat their veggies.”

He grins. “Of course.”

“And they have your hair. Lots of curls, very wild.”

“Mm.”

“And they love to sing. They aren’t good at it…but they love it.”

He laughs a bit louder this time, head shaking as he brushes his thumbs across the exposed skin of your ankles. “Sounds about right.”

“And we’re really happy,” you finish tenderly. “And we have two dogs, and one cat. And nothing changes between us. We’re still us, and we still love each other a lot, and we still go on tons of adventures and have really good, wild sex.”

He’s smiling so hard, you can see his dimples. “I wouldn’t want anything less.”

“Me, either.”

You fall silent as Harry finally brings you both into the large room, ducking beneath the frame to make sure you don’t hit your head. You kiss the side of his jaw gratefully before he sets you down with a gentle plop, allowing you both to straighten up and take a look around.

Sizable paintings hang from each wall. Encased behind gold, elegant frames that are layered with a light film of dust. Even still, the artwork is breathtaking. Portraits of what look to be great men and women. Soft brush strokes that are wildly vivid, despite the many years stuck in this dark room.

Harry takes his flashlight from you and aims it toward the green, velvet sofa in the middle of the vast space. Eyes wide as he studies it. “A lot of this stuff is in better shape than I thought it’d be.”

You make a noise of agreement as you gingerly run your fingers along the faded wallpaper. “I wonder what made them leave this all behind?”

“I don’t know. S’probably worth a fortune.”

“And it’s still here? Nobody came and looted it?”

He sports a rather charmed grin at your choice of wording. “Guess not. Kind of strange, honestly. City never reclaimed it, either.”

“Yeah…”

He glances over, a mischievous glint behind the soft green. “Maybe there’s a reason.”

“What?”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Maybe…the ghosts won’t let it go.”

Finally understanding his joke, you roll your eyes with a snort before striding toward the giant bookshelf. “Ha, ha.”

“Maybe the owners died in the fifties,” he continues, dropping his voice to a lower drawl. Attempting to add a bit of mystique and suspicion. “Maybe they were murdered in cold blood. And they never found out who killed them, so they haunt the grounds of their old house. Until the day their killer dares to come back.”

You pretend to be intrigued, nodding along with faux fascination. “Uh-huh. Which makes us…what? Ghost bait?”

“Mmm…perhaps,” he murmurs, stalking toward you. “Perhaps that’s why Caleb really brought us here. To feed us to his ancestors. Appease the Halloween Gods.”

“Right.”

He closes the distance between you, angling the beam of his light up toward his face as dark shadows dance across his features. “Or maybe Caleb isn’t Caleb at all. Maybe…he’s a ghost—”

Suddenly, he jolts forward, making you gasp as you steel yourself from the sudden movement. Eyes wide and heart racing.

But once you realize he’s merely messing with you, you begin to glare. Scoffing, “God, you’re an ass.”

He drops his cellphone and beams at you. Much too smug with his victory. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I won’t resist drop kicking your ass out that window.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckles, peering down at you with a delicate look of adoration before he’s pressing his lips to yours. “Forgive me?”

You try to pout into the kiss, but he’s too good. Warm and soft and the definition of comfort. “Hm. Fine. Just this once.”

He offers one final peck before returning to his search. Hands sweeping along the grimy bookshelves, fingers trailing down the broken spines. He seems lost in thought, and you watch almost fondly as he reaches out for one particular title.

“Frankenstein,” he reads aloud, tilting it back with a smile. “Used to be my favorite growing up.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. My mom used to read it to me all the time.”

And you feel this undeniable tug on your heartstrings as you settle behind him, arms slipping around his middle. “What did you like about it?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I liked the idea of something so…broken being so beautiful. Or maybe it was just the idea of how he was built. And why. You know?”

“Yeah. I think it’s sweet you liked it so much. You never told me.”

“I mean, I stopped reading it as I got older. I think I just liked the way my mom read it to me. She’d do all these voices, try to freak me out.”

You laugh. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”

“It was great. I loved it. S’probably one of my favorite memories growing up.”

And there’s that yanking in your chest again. “You’re cute, you know that?”

He smirks. “Thanks.”

With that, he releases the book, allowing it to fall back into place on the shelf beside the other novels.

But, the moment it lands, a startling and rather jarring rumble explodes from somewhere behind you. Compelling a jump as you both spin around in search for the offending sound.

And there, just beside the old grandfather clock that sits near the door, hangs one of the large paintings. This one of a beautiful woman wearing a stunning, purple grown and a coy smile. Yet, her portrait is moving. Sliding across the wall as if by magic until you’re able to see what lies behind.

A passageway. 

You suck in a gasp as you and Harry both shine your lights into the dark opening. Finding nothing more than a narrow stairway that disappears into somewhere else in the house.

You look to Harry.

Harry looks to you.

“What the fuck,” he whispers, but you can see the excitement weaving through his dimple. “That’s…the coolest shit I’ve ever seen.”

You can’t help but agree, feet drawing you closer, as if compelled by the mesmeric introduction and inviting shadows. “Yeah…”

Footsteps follow you. “Bee, hold on. We don’t know where it goes or if we can get back out.”

Now, you hesitate, considering the rather valid point. “It probably leads to the attic. Caleb said he couldn’t figure out how to get up there, but I’m sure there’s a way back down. There’d have to be.”

“Maybe. Or maybe…that’s where the ghosts are waiting to lure us in—”

“All right,” you hiss, shoving on his arm before continuing for the door. “I will slap that dimple right off your face, I’m serious.”

“Well, you know I like it when you do.”

And even despite his teasing, you feel your stomach flip. Memories calling back to the forefront of your mind as you remember his pink skin and arrogant smirk. The way he’d beg you to keep going – give him more. 

“Can you please be serious?” you choose to say, reaching back for his hand as you approach the entrance. “Because if we die in here, I don’t want one of the last things we said to be one of your shitty jokes.”

He laughs, but intertwines his fingers with yours willingly. Squeezing your palm for comfort. “Sorry, lovey. By all means, please do lead us into the deathtrap. You’ll hear no more jokes from me. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“Good boy.”

He squishes your hand again knowingly before you take a deep breath and begin up the stairs. 

The walls are about five feet apart in width, providing a rather narrow space for the two of you to slip between as you ascend up into the rest of the house. The path curves like a spiral, up and up until you’re almost sure there’s nowhere else to go. And your head pops right out of the roof.

Then, you come to the last one, and see that it opens up and leads into something else. A vast, empty floor with more light that you’ve seen anywhere else in the house. 

Curious, you move a bit faster, eager to see what awaits. And once you step into the room…your breath catches.

Stained glass windows decorate each wall, the full moon projecting the most beautiful colors and imagery across the entire space. From the floor to the ceiling and every inch in between. It’s like walking into a rainbow. Or heaven. Such a stark contrast from the eerie journey up the stairs in nothing but darkness.

Harry’s shoulder brushes against yours as he steps up beside you. Eyes fluttering as he pockets his phone and glances about the room admiringly. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” you agree in a quiet whisper. Walking toward the first window as your fingers outstretch for the tempered glass. “It’s…it’s beautiful.”

“It is.” He follows you. “They must have loved it up here.”

You feel yourself smile. “I bet it was the perfect hideaway.” You motion toward the furthest wall where a dainty (but somewhat tattered) window seat lies. “Bet they came up here and just read or painted all day. Watched the sun rise and set.”

You feel him staring at you. Observing your profile as you continue to glance around, trying to soak in every little detail. 

Then, you feel him. His touch sweeping across your cheek before he’s brushing a bit of hair from your shoulder. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”

You glance over.

“About us. Having kids, starting a family.” His expression is void of any of his previous taunting. Instead, solely focused on the soft skin of your jaw as he ghosts his thumb beneath your chin. “Is that what you really want? With me?”

And a part of your heart aches because…yes. You’d live a million lifetimes with him. With kids, without kids. Here, there. Fast-paced or easy-going. You’d do it all. You’d do everything with him.

Everything.

You reach up and slip your fingers around his wrist. Keeping him close as you nuzzle into his palm. “Of course I would, Har. Just want you.”

He steps closer, taking both sides of your face in his hands now as he keeps you in his strong hold. Gazing at you lovingly until you feel your insides twist. 

“I will give you anything you want, Bee,” he murmurs, and you can feel his promise dance across your lips. “Give you kids. Give you a big, beautiful home. Give you the life you deserve.”

You inhale quietly, desperately grasping onto his arms.

“Anything you want, baby,” he breathes, and you know how much he means it. “Give you fucking everything.”

Tears spring to your eyes, dancing along your waterline until one jumps down your cheek. Right into Harry’s waiting thumb where he quickly soothes it away. “You know I would,” you tell him in a timid whisper. “I promise, I would, I just…I can’t…”

His eyes soften when he understands, yet his head shakes as he brings your chest to his. “It doesn’t matter how or why. If we want to start a family, we can. Any way we want to. Any way you want to. Nothing else matters, lovey. Just wanna do it together.”

Together.

You stumble over a choked sob, burying yourself in his embrace while he dips down to kiss you. Harder than he has all night and filled with a kind of love that can’t be explained. Only felt through the synchronistic brushing of his lips against yours. 

“My girl,” he exhales, nudging his nose along your cheek before bringing his kisses back. “My fucking girl. Know I love you, yeah? Know you’re my only?”

You whimper, nodding pitifully as you allow him to take the reins. Deciding how far and how deep this kiss goes. 

“Good.” He drops his hands to your hips, squeezing once. “Because you are, Bee. Never loved anybody the way I love you.”

And you know – you know he means it. 

Something clicks in your brain. Something lustful and needy. You’re overcome with this anxious desire to have him. To be with him wholly. You want to crawl into his skin and live there. Be as close to him as possible. 

Show him exactly how much he means to you.

The kisses become hungrier. Sloppier. Rushed and borderline animalistic as you reach down and lace your fingers with his. Guiding him away from the wall and toward the carpet in the center of the room.

He seems to understand your intent. Smiling against your mouth as you move him where you want him.

“Sneaky girl,” he breathes, pressing his mouth to your neck. Nipping below your ear until you sigh contently. “S’that why you really wanted to come up here, hm? Wanted to get me alone? Have your way with me?”

And even though he’s effortlessly putting the power in your hands, you can’t help but feel swayed by him. Drawn in by his suggestion and prowess while your stomach flips in on itself.

“Maybe,” you admit quietly, grinning when he chuckles darkly. “Because maybe I know…you want me to have my way with you. Don’t you?”

He nods quickly, groaning almost to himself before he gropes at your waist and moves his kisses to your exposed collarbone. “Do anything you want, Bee. I meant it.”

Pleased, you take yourself away from him. “Good. Because I want you on your knees.”

And he almost looks disappointed that he’s had to stop kissing you, but the starvation behind his eyes is unmistakable. 

He drops so quickly, your head spins. Head tilted back and hands obediently landing on his thighs in wait. 

“Good boy,” you can’t help but mutter, reaching down to press your palm to his cheek in gratitude. “Always obey me so well.”

“Always,” he repeats reverently. Voice thick as though drunk with longing.

“Can’t take too long, okay? They might come looking for us, and I don’t think we’d ever be able to live that down,” you add, softening your tone some to ease the charged tension.

“I know,” he replies quickly. Almost pitifully, as if desperate to agree and make you happy. “Be quick, I swear.”

A grin splits your face. “Want you to take off your jeans, baby,” you instruct now, nodding toward his hips. “Just your jeans. Don’t want you to get cold.”

So, he does. Fumbling with his belt and button before dragging the dark fabric down his beautiful thighs, revealing his new tattoo. It catches the moonlight and the reflection of the red glass across the room. Drawing in your attention while your mouth nearly waters.

But he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead working quickly to rid himself of the material before returning to his knees. 

“Good. My jeans next,” you tell him, and he extends his hands toward your waist.

Just as quickly as before, he slips, pulls, and tugs until you can step out of your pants and toss them aside. Making sure to hold your hand as you do so you don’t lose your balance. 

It’s these little things that endear you to him. The way he doesn’t even realize he’s done something thoughtful. Instead offering such a gesture out of reflex and love.

“Thank you, baby,” you whisper, squeezing his chin once. “Now…I want you to lie back for me, okay? Don’t want you to do anything else. Just wanna take care of you.”

His Adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow, and you can nearly see his heart thumping against his chest. He’s on his back in seconds, obediently lying on the carpet with his focus trained on you. Eager to see what you have in mind. 

Truth be told, you’re rather eager, too. Crouching down near his ankles until you can straddle his legs.

He lifts his head off the floor in order to see you, glued to your every move while his breath hitches.

You begin to make your way up his body. Bringing your lips to the beautiful, warm skin of his thighs as you travel toward his hips. Allowing your kisses to guide you.

You hear him release a strained curse. Catching the way his chest rises and falls a bit more rapidly, as if in tune with his racing heart. And you’re going so slow, you think you might kill him. Dragging your tongue along the tattoo before flicking your eyes to his. Making sure you truly have his undivided attention.

His lashes flutter, leg twitching beneath you. “Bee…”

“Yes, baby?” Your coy innocence makes another groan reverberate from his chest. “What do you want, hm?”

“Please,” is all he has the strength to mumble, fingers twitching beside him. Desperate to weave through your hair and tug. “Lovey, please…”

“I know. But I wanna play with you a bit first, okay?” You straighten up and crawl toward the tops of his thighs, just above his dark boxers. “Gonna let me play with you, Daddy?”

Another quick nod before he drops his head back to the floor. Overcome with desire.

And you imagine you know what he thinks you’re going to do. That he’s confident in his guess as he awaits for you to confirm his suspicion.

But there’s something much more thrilling about catching him off guard. Torturing him just a little. 

Because you know he loves it.

Once you feel comfortable in your new position, you allow your hand to travel between your legs. Dancing beneath the hem of your sweater before settling atop your baby blue underwear.

Your light grazes are innocent at first. Soft strokes along the cotton fabric. Enough to earn a shiver while Harry’s eyes cement to your hand. Mesmerized by the way you touch yourself.

You hum at the faint but teasing touches. Feeling almost giddy to quench this flame. Create pleasure for yourself and allow him to watch you. See exactly how good it feels.

Then, you hook the fabric to the side, and allow him the perfect visual of your cunt.

You notice a sharp chill as the cold air nips at you, but it only aids in encouraging you further. Making you grin to yourself while you use your other hand to drag your fingers through your pussy. Slipping between your folds and up to your clit.

“Shit,” he murmurs, eyelids growing heavier. “Shit, Bee—”

You circle the sensitive nerves a few times to work yourself up. Indulging in the feel and the unexplainable relief it provides. It’s like a drug. Addicting and somehow not nearly enough.

“Baby, please—” he tries again, palms finally reaching for your thighs in an effort to touch you. At least somehow. “Fuck—”

“Thought you wanted to be good,” you say, pinching your clit until you gasp. “Thought…thought you wanted to give me anything—”

“I do,” he answers through a rushed breath. “Bee, I do. I do, please—”

“Then, I want you to watch. Want you to watch what you do to me.”

He groans again, and you can see the slight pink in his cheeks from the frigid air and the way he’s so entranced with you. “Lovey, please…”

You slip down, teasing the tip of your finger around your fluttering hole until you can feel the arousal beginning to gather. Humming while you roll your hips in tune with your hand. Riding your own fingers before you’re moving back to your clit.

“Har…” His name slips out before you can stop it. Sighing from your tongue without pause. As if it’s instinct to associate him with your pleasure. To say his name in a desperate plea for more.

You feel him squeeze your legs. Tighter than he ever has. “M’here,” he calls. “M’right here, baby. What do you need?”

Too much. “You, Har. You, always.”

He’s pulling on you now. Palms smoothing up the globes of your ass until he can practically yank you closer. “Just ask. Ask me, Bee, and I’ll give it to you.”

And you’re torturing yourself. Perhaps more than him, and you nearly whimper when you realize how badly you miss him.

So, you remove your hands from between your legs in order to reach for his boxers. Slipping inside and pulling his cock out until he lands against his stomach. Beautiful, and flushed, and leaking pearlescent drops that glisten beneath the light of the moon. 

And once it’s free, you grind down. Dragging your once more covered cunt along his shaft. Close, but not close enough. Just to provide a bit of friction and make him moan as you brace yourself against his chest.

Your nails curl into the dark material of his shirt, scraping down his stomach as you reel. It’s so much and yet not even close to satiating you. Merely taunting you with the idea of what you really want. A type of release that will never be truly satisfactory like this.

“Fuck—” A lewd moan scrapes from the back of his throat. Hands pressing hard into your hips to help roll you over his cock faster and quicker. “Gonna fucking kill me, Bee.”

You’d like to be smug, but you’re too far gone to feel anything but need. “Har—”

“Gonna cum like this, baby? S’this all it takes?”

“I’m…I…”

“Look so cute, lovey. So fucking cute, using my cock to get off. Feels so good, doesn’t it? Rubbing your pretty little pussy all over me?”

Your eyes roll back, head feeling heavy as your chin drops to your chest.

Then, you feel his thumb against the only part of your clit he can reach. Pressing into it just enough to make you whimper. “Shh. It’s okay, I’ve got you. Wanna cum? Go ahead, you can cum, Bee. Make me so happy…just wanna feel you—”

And you hate how quickly it hits you. Hate that you truly thought you’d be able to edge yourself until you made him break.

But it consumes you from the inside out. Blindsiding your dominance until it sweeps you under his current. You become a trembling, shaking, moaning mess above him.

“There you go. Good fucking girl. So good…s’perfect,” he murmurs, continuing to guide you through it until you nearly collapse. “Feel better, baby?”

You nod weakly, cracking your eyes open just enough to catch his look of approval.

“Good,” he replies before a dark look seems to take hold. Hungrier than you’ve ever seen him. 

Suddenly, he’s sitting up. Forcing you to lean back as his arms loop around your waist and he’s hoisting you both into the air. Straightening back onto his feet while carrying you in his arms toward the furthest wall.

You barely get the chance to glance around before he’s dropping you onto the small window seat, right against the painted glass.

With a gasp, you collide with the cushion (which is admittedly much more comfortable than the floor), gazing up at him with surprise and wonder.

He says nothing. He can’t. He’s lost in his need for you – for your pleasure. Crouching down near your legs in order to reach for your panties and rip them from ankles. And once they’ve been tossed aside, he settles his body between your thighs, and surges forward.

His mouth is the closest to heaven you imagine you’ll ever get. Warm and wet and so expertly kind as he drags his tongue between your soaked, sensitive folds. Flicking at your clit before sucking it into his mouth with the kind of sound that makes your chest cave in.

“Har—” you whine, writhing a bit from the overstimulation and intensified pleasure. He’s chasing after your next orgasm before your first has even subsided, and it nearly wrecks you. “Shit, Harry—”

Still, he has no response. There’s no time or room to speak with the way he nips at your cunt before lowering. Letting his tongue slide inside you before pulling it back. Just enough to leave you squirming.

“Harry,” you try again, reaching out to card your fingers through his hair. Tugging with fervor until he does it again. “Fuck…please—”

His hands find your thighs. Pushing them open even further until you can feel the strain on your muscles from such a stretch. 

He’s suffocating himself. Buried in your pussy, he takes whatever he wants. Greedily swallowing you down with lascivious groans and exhales of contentment. Fingers curling around your legs, leaving bruises along your sensitive skin.

He’s insatiable. Ignoring your cries and whimpers for mercy, instead pushing you back to the brink. Making you see stars before you can prepare yourself.

You’re all over his face. Can see yourself glisten off his chin and swollen lips, the stunning stained glass windows painting ethereal pictures of him on his knees. Taking you on his tongue as though his life depends on it.

He captures your clit between his teeth and tugs. Eliciting another wounded, pitiful noise as you slump against the glass.

The second orgasm is just as powerful as the first, if not more. Because this time, he’s actually touching you. Blowing on your clit the moment he sees you begin to unravel, effortlessly dragging you into more pleasure.

You scratch his scalp so hard, you’re surprised you don’t draw blood. Practically pulling him through you while you ride his tongue and the wave of euphoria until you come crashing back down to Earth. 

“Oh, my god,” you whimper, features contorting with bliss. “Shit, H…please…please—”

But he’s far from through. Already licking the remnants of your orgasm from your quivering hole while you attempt to writhe away. The overstimulation almost painful as tears spring back to your eyes.

“Wait…wait, please,” you whisper, trying to recapture his attention by yanking on his curls and pushing your legs against his hands. “Baby, please…I need you. Need more, H…please.”

He looks up, and you see a glimmer of the moon in his eye. “What do you need more of? Hm? Tell me.”

You let your head drop back against the window, chest heaving beneath your thick sweater. “Har…can’t…I can’t, I need…need—”

“What?” he pushes. And you can hear the smug undertones as well as the reemergence of his cocky dimple. “What, baby? Tell Daddy what you need.”

And he knows what you need. He always knows, even before you do. But he wants to hear you say it. Wants to force the words from your mouth. Wants you to beg him for his cock.

With a heavy sigh, you answer, “You.”

“You already have me.”

You whine and toss your leg over his shoulder. Digging your heel into his spine to encourage him closer. “Need you to fuck me, H. Please…please, fuck me.”

His grin grows. “Well, well, well. Look at that. My sweet girl knows how to use her words after all.”

He crawls up to you, hands settling beside your hips as he leans forward.

“Doesn’t she?” he whispers, allowing his lips to ghost across yours. Teasing you with a taste of yourself. 

You feel as though you’re drowning. Unable to capture enough air in your lungs to survive, and you throw your hands around his neck to yank him the remaining two inches. 

 His tongue feels like heaven against yours. A mix of you and him that you swallow greedily. Wanting more than he’s seeming to give you.

“Please,” you try again. Releasing the ask against his cheek before nuzzling your nose under his jaw. Intoxicated by the scent of him. “Harry…”

He doesn’t have much strength to refuse you. His willpower long forgotten as he quickly obliges and grabs onto your waist to yank you to the edge of the seat.

He then lifts your leg and sets it onto the cushion, bending it at the knee to create the angle he wants. Allowing him enough room to work while he grabs onto his cock and removes his boxers the rest of the way.

Hard and heavy in his hand, he guides the tip between your thighs. Dragging it down your clit almost tauntingly before slipping in. And it’s far too easy. He disappears into our pussy almost unintentionally. Allowing your warmth to draw him in and keep him inside you.

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your face.

“Shit,” he whispers when he feels the way your walls squeeze around his length. You might be used to his size, but those first few seconds are always euphoric. “There you go…you all right, Bee?”

You nod wordlessly, reaching out for his shoulders for something to hold onto. 

“I know,” is all he says in response. Able to read your tells better than anyone ever has. “S’all right. I’ve got you.”

Once he’s fully inside of you, he offers a moment of relief. Settling there while his hands return to your hips to lift you up ever-so-slightly in order to use you the way he wants. 

“Go,” you beg, nails drawing patterns down his back. “M’okay, go. Wanna feel you. Need to feel you cum.”

“Yeah?” He draws back before driving in. Hard enough to knock a gasp from your chest. “That’s what you want? Want Daddy’s cum in this pretty pussy?”

A blissful haze begins to cloud your vision. His sinfully sweet taunt ringing between your ears. Inciting an idea and a need you hadn’t thought possible.  

“Oh…” When he realizes, that wicked look returns. “Oh, baby. You do, don’t you? Wanna be full of me. Want me to fill this sweet, little cunt until you’re dripping. Till I’m spilling out of you. All down your thighs. Down to the floor.”

You make another incoherent noise before succumbing to his hard thrusts. Falling mute and limp. 

“Want me to lick it up…just to spit it down your throat,” he continues. “Want me everywhere. In your pussy…in your tummy. Just wanna be so fucking full of me.”

Every word from his mouth is crude and delicious. Designed to torture you and it works.

Because he’s right. You do want him everywhere. Want to feel him across every inch of your skin, inside every pore, dripping from every part of your body. Want to be stuffed with him. His tongue, his cock, his cum. There’s no part of this man you aren’t infatuated by.

“Say it,” he hisses, tugging your body up higher until he can slam into you from a different position. Finding that beautiful spot that makes your toes curl while you cry out and grab onto the seat beneath you for support. “Say how much you want my cum. Beg me for it.”

You can feel the sweat dripping down your back. Can feel the exhaustion in your limbs from having to contain so much pleasure. 

And he’s careless yet practiced. Still gentle, even when he’s ramming his hips into yours. Nearly tearing you in half with the force of his cock, but with a sort of devotion you can’t explain. Even with such force, you feel relaxed. 

Almost as if this is how you were always meant to be.

And then…something faint. Distant and familiar. The sound of voices – your friend’s voices, coming from somewhere inside the house.

For a moment, you worry you’ve been caught. That they’ve found you and are ready to run screaming from the house.

But you catch pieces of their conversation. Vague and somewhat confusing. 

“—well, then, you check. I already tried—”

“—probably just looking around. Maybe they went back to their car—”

“—I’ll text her. They could be lost. This place is huge—”

They haven’t found you. In fact, it seems they’re still searching. Unaware that the two of you found the attic, and perhaps even unaware of the passageway, too.

Harry seems rather relaxed as he pauses just long enough to glance up. A look of understanding forming as he nods toward the ceiling.

You look, too.

The voices are coming from the vent. Echoing the conversation from somewhere else in the house as they walk through.

Your heart races. Because if you can hear them, that means…

He seems to consider this at the same time you do, head cocking deviously as he pulls back. “Shh,” he murmurs, thumb stroking your waist. “Gonna have to be extra quiet for me, okay?”

You take in another deep breath, another whine already bubbling up the back of your throat.

But he realizes this almost instantly. Hand coming up to press against your mouth and muffle your pathetic cry before you can make it. “Uh-uh,” he hisses, attempting to chastise but you can tell he’s amused. “Said no, Bee. Need you quiet or I stop.”

But he can’t stop. You can’t let him stop. You think if he stops, you might die. That you’ll disappear into nothing and spend the rest of your life chasing something only he can offer.

Instead, you grab onto his wrist, and keep it against your lips. Using it as an excuse to whimper against his palm and promise your attempt at silence.

And maybe he’s unconvinced. But he’s just as desperate as you are. To finish and find that serenity. To feel each other in every sense of the word.

So he takes your vow of obedience and continues. Resuming his thrusts as the sounds of voices slowly begin to fade away. 

You’re brought right back to the precipice of pleasure. Reminded yet again of why you’d do anything for him. Why he’s so addicting. Not just because of his body…but because his heart.

Shades of blue, red, yellow, and purple explode across the walls and across your eyelids. The colors rich and vibrant, accentuated by the bright glow of the moon. 

And you can see him perfectly. Can see his stunningly structured face. The ridge of his nose, the sharp edge of his jaw. The damp curls that lay across his forehead and the rosy skin of his cheeks.

You know he’s always been handsome. Not just to you, but to everyone.

But now…he’s ethereal. Because he’s not just some guy. He’s not just Harry. He’s the man you love. The only true home for your soul. Your comfort place, your future.

Your everything.

And that’s what makes him so beautiful.

When he notices your stare, something shifts. He drops his hand, and surges forward to kiss you. Throwing a stutter in his rhythm as he laces his tongue with yours. 

“Shit,” is all you manage to make out of his hushed moans. “Gonna give you everything, Bee. Gonna fill you. Keep my cum inside you forever. Fucking forever, baby. M’yours. Always.”

You can feel yourself clenching down on him. Already approaching your third before he’s even allowed himself a first. It’s a trait of his you’ve noticed he exhibits quite often. Perhaps it’s a masochistic practice or perhaps it’s his nature to want your orgasms over his own. Waiting until he’s sure you’re taken care of before he allows himself to find relief. 

Yet another one of these little things you’d be lost without.

When he realizes just how close you are, he leans back and brings his lips together. Spitting directly onto your clit before bringing his fingers into play.

“There,” he grits, inflicting quick circles against the tender, swollen nerves that make you whine. “That’s all it takes, isn’t it?”

Your body answers for you. You’re nothing but a string of noises and twitching muscles. Dissolving into your orgasm until that’s all you are. Just his victory. His perfect prize to be claimed.

You feel him watch you. Infatuated with the way you tense and squirm before you finally settle back against the glass to catch your breath.

And perhaps that’s what does it for him. Not just feeling you cum but seeing it. The physical proof of your passion written so visibly across your face. The way you soak his cock, the way you drip down onto the seat below, the way you cling to him.

He chases that sensation. Chases the way it makes him feel and the release it promises him. 

It doesn’t take long for him to finish now that he’s not holding himself back. A few quick but hard thrusts and he’s spilling himself into your pussy with a low groan, face burying into your neck.

He holds you still through every second. As close as he possibly can, even after you’re sure he’s finished. 

The emotional orgasm feels just as overwhelming as the physical one. You can’t help but wrap your arms around his body to hold him against your heart. Listening to the sounds of his strained breaths before they slowly even out. 

And he’s so happy. You know he is. Refusing to move as his cum sits inside of you. Wanting to keep it there like he promised.

You want to keep him the same way. 

“Fuck,” you hear him whisper. It seems unintelligible curse words are about all the two of you have to offer in moments like this. It makes you smile. “Think I came so hard, I blacked out.”

You giggle at this, moving to hook your leg around his middle. “I’m glad you came. Feels good.”

He turns his head so his cheek can rest on your shoulder. “Yeah? S’my cum feel nice? All warm inside you?”

And there’s something about the way he says it. Soft but secure. Teasing you and caring for you all in the same breath.

You hum.

“Got it all snug inside your little pussy, baby?” He presses a kiss to your neck. A reassuring gesture meant to reward you. “Gonna keep it for me?”

You nod fervently before clinging onto his body a bit tighter. Feeling a shiver roll down your spine – either from the cold or his response. Truthfully, you aren’t sure. 

“Hmm. That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, slipping an arm around your waist in order to hold you closer. Hugging you, almost, as he settles in your embrace. “Guess we better get going, hm?”

But you don’t like this idea. Already feeling your expression fall into a desolate pout as you suck in a sharp inhale and cement yourself to his larger frame. 

He senses this shift – this refusal – and stills. “What? What’s wrong?”

You don’t have an answer. You suppose nothing is wrong, per se…as long as he doesn’t leave. 

“Bee,” he tries again, a bit firmer. The singular nickname laced with apprehension. “Lovey, what happened, what's wrong? You know you have to talk to me, okay? Have to communicate with me—”

“Nothing,” you whisper, cutting his bargaining short. “Nothing, I just…don’t want you to go, Daddy.”

A brief pause. Silent and filled with an unspoken tension that melts into something tender. “Bee, I’m not going anywhere. Just wanna clean you up and hold you a bit. Like we always do. That’s all right, isn’t it?”

You consider this. You do love when he holds you. Especially when he runs his hands down your sore limbs. Massaging the aches away while keeping you safe in his arms.

The mere thought makes you sigh. “Promise?”

He squeezes your hip. “Always, baby.”

With that, you unhook yourself from his body, and allow him to move back. Taking himself from you almost painfully before he’s putting himself away and moving for your clothes. 

He finds your underwear and both pairs of jeans, bringing them back to you almost respectfully.

He helps you step into them, securing your panties around your waist with an impish wink and a soft, “Gonna save it for later, yeah?”

Once you’re both dressed again, he fits himself between you and the window, and places you in the middle of his lap. Your back against his chest while his palms sweep up and down your arms, easing the pains away.

“Was that okay?” he asks after a quiet moment of reflection. “Did you like what we did?”

 You drop your focus down to his hands. To the way they look on your body. You hum. Say nothing. 

In turn, he shifts, attempting to sneak a glimpse of the side of your face. “Bee, d’you hear me?”

Still, you’re silent. Trailing your finger along his knuckles and over his wrist. Entranced by him. Hypnotized.

He uses this very hand to reach for your jaw. Squeezing it just hard enough to capture your attention and turn your face to his. “Baby, you’re scaring me. Are you all right?”

You feel your frown return, chest tightening with the implication. “Scared? Why are you scared? What…what did I do?”

There’s a subtle pull in his eyebrows. Almost imperceptible but you manage to catch it before it smooths away. “Nothing, sweet girl. But I want to make sure you’re okay. That I didn’t hurt you or take things too far. And if I did, I want to know. I need to know.”

“Daddy, you never hurt me. Ever.” The frown intensifies, nearly taking control of your whole face. “Don’t say that, it makes me sad.”

Again, a flash of confusion and subtle recognition streaks behind his soft gaze. “Daddy just wants to make sure you’re feeling all right. That you feel safe and comfortable with me. Now…and before.”

“Of course I do. Always feel comfortable with you.”

You imagine he should feel relieved to hear this, and yet he sighs as he releases your jaw. “Oh, baby.”

It’s heavy the way he speaks. Akin to disappointment, but there’s a touch of sadness. Perhaps even understanding.

It breeds a constriction in your chest that feels like a snake coiling around your lungs. “What…what did I do? Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” he’s quick to whisper, tightening his hold on you. “God, no, sweet girl. Just realized something, that’s all.”

A tad reassured, you straighten up. “Oh? What?”

He nuzzles his cheek against your temple and pulls you even further into his chest. “Nothing bad, I promise. Just that I need to take extra good care of you right now.”

“Really?

 He nods. “Mhm. So, what do you think, lovey, hm? Should we go home? Think we’ve done enough exploring for one day.”

Your lashes flutter, a bit startled by the switch. “We…you wanna leave?”

“I do. I wanna take you home and hold you. Properly,” he says gently, laying a chaste kiss to your forehead. “We can take a bath, get all nice and warm again. Know it’s getting cold, isn’t it?”

Truthfully, you hadn’t realized the drastic drop in temperature. But with this mention, you feel a noticeable chill dancing across the room. Can feel your breath grow icier as it leaves your lips.

“And once we’re warm again, we can crawl into bed, and just stay,” he continues. “Watch a movie, eat some snacks. Do whatever you wanna do, baby. S’that sound good?”

And it does. It sounds like heaven. Anything with him always does. “Can we please?”

He grins again before kissing your temple again. “Of course. We’ll head out now. Think you can walk or do you need my help?”

Your legs do feel a bit wobbly, but in all honesty, the idea of having him hold you all the way down is what you really want. To make sure he doesn’t take himself from you, even if you’re merely walking to the car.

Your innocent pout is answer enough, and he chuckles. “Want my help, don’t you?”

Nodding eagerly, you sit up, allowing him to slip back out from behind you and stand. Once he has, he takes your hand and pulls you to your feet, making sure to steady you when you feel a bit rocky before leading you toward the stairs.

You leave the heavenly room behind, bidding the stunning shadows adieu as you disappear down the dark stairwell. 

And you hope, if there are ghosts, that they enjoyed the show.

After you’ve returned to the spare room on the first floor, Harry strides over to the bookshelf, and tilts the Frankenstein book back just like he had before. Prompting the portrait to slide closed in the same manner as it had when it opened. Hiding the secret staircase away for the next wandering couple.

Then, he turns to you. “All right, baby, let’s go.”

He crouches down, signaling that he’d like you to climb onto his back again, and you do rather giddily. Cementing yourself to his spine as you cling to him like a koala bear, allowing him to lead you back out into the main part of the house.

You find your friends already waiting by the door, talking casually until they see you coming out from the shadows.

You feel Harry squeeze your ankles as a sign of encouragement and you sigh to yourself while cuddling closer.

“Where the hell have you been, we’ve been looking everywhere,” Jackie calls. “You just left me with these dipshits.”

Harry chuckles. “Sorry. Got a bit lost and then we started talking. Did you find the attic?”

“No,” Charlie huffs, and he sounds rather offended. “I don’t think there is an attic. Think Caleb’s just full of shit.”

“I’m telling you, it’s there,” Caleb argues. “Other people have gone up, I just don’t know how they found it.”

“Huh. Weird,” Harry muses, and you have to turn your face away to hide your smirk. “Well, listen, I think we’re gonna head out. But this was fun. Thanks for the invite.”

“Aw, really? Already? We thought maybe we’d head over to Waffle House or something,” Jackie tells you. “You know, eat a shit ton of whipped cream and syrup in the spirit of Halloween.”

To this, Harry smiles, glancing back at you as if to check for permission and see if you’re interested. But you can’t really offer him much else except a shy grin, which he seems to understand.

“I think we’re just gonna turn in for the night,” he says instead. “But you guys have fun. We’ll have to do this again for Christmas.”

The other three laugh as you call your goodbyes and allow Harry to carry you to the car. 

He sets you down by the passenger door in order to unlock it and swing it open. And once it is, he’s still ever the gentleman, helping you sit and making sure you’re buckled in before shutting the door and jogging over to his side.

As he fumbles with his keys and gets the engine started, your eyes trail up toward the top of the large mansion before you. Finding those beautiful windows once more as you bid them goodbye as well.

You feel Harry’s hand slip around yours, recapturing your attention as you look over and catch his grin. “You ready?”

You nod and squeeze his palm three times. “Mhm. Always.”

Pleased, he brings your knuckles to his lips. Leaving a lingering kiss that nearly takes your breath away. “Happy Halloween, Bee.”

And your heart has never felt so full. 

“Happy Halloween, Harry.”

HAPPY HALLOWEEN 🧡🧡🧡 (or just regular old Tuesday)!!! Thank you so much for joining me for Freaky Fun and for being so kind and supportive!!! You all have my heart!! Have a safe, wonderful night filled with laughs and amazing treats!! 😭♥️

~ Full Teach Me Masterlist

~ Full Freak Fun Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

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[amalthiaph]

I took an interest in The Bad Batch around the tailend of S2. It's not news to Tumblr that I almost slept on this show. And I cannot thank Caleb Dume enough for being the reason why I pressed the play button for this one. While I haven't been around for most of its active run, and I wish I had been, the last year has been among the best months of my life.

This show challenged my morals, and taught me lessons that I will forever take with me.

Tech taught me to embrace and take pride in who I am. I now think that I am not something that needs to be cured. I needed to be understood and accepted. He taught me that we deserved to be loved and be allowed to live the way we want to (as long as we are not causing harm to ourselves or to others).

Hunter taught me that at the end of the day, we're all still humans. We make mistakes. We fail. But we can learn from them, and we can strive to be better. And I should also take care of my hair bec I cannot accept that a man in a galactic war have better hair than me (Okay, did you honestly think I'm gonna be serious this entire essay?)

Crosshair taught me that at the end of the day, we really are still humans. Sometimes, we make choices that not everyone will understand or agree to. Sometimes, we don't even understand our own choices. But we can learn from them, and we can strive to be better. And that I should also go to therapy bec istg my hand shakes like hell I always need to rely on a pen stabilizer when doing my artworks.

Wrecker taught me that in this world where we can be anything, always choose to be kind. He is a great man who would always be there for everyone, and I hope that one day, I can be that person too. He is afraid of heights, but he climbs and go on high places anyway. Like him, I should also start conquering my fears. Dear Wrecker, I did try conquering my fear of heights last March 9 but I can't. I will try again.

Echo taught me to always fight for the greater good. Almost two years ago, me and a group of people campaigned for a great tomorrow. With pink flags and pink balloons, we worked on our little thing I like to call our rebellion. Sadly, we lost. At times, I am thinking of just giving up bec that's democracy and I cannot go against the people's decision, but characters like Echo and the rest of Rogue One taught me that nothing should ever stop me for fighting for the people's rights and that my love for my fellow citizens should always come first before hatred.

And lastly, Omega taught me to be curious, or more likely to not be ashamed for being curious. Learn about the world. Learn about lots of things. We never know when we need it. While I could say be good at strategy and win 30 grand on card games, nahhh, I'm not that smart.

I also learned to reevalutate myself as an artist. This show taught me integrity. I had ranted about this lately but these characters challenged me in terms of art. I knew that the creators aren't best at proper representation. While I could draw them as they are in the show, I choose to stand for what is right, and represent them as properly as my skills could. In the more technical side, I became good at drawing armors. And this little Actors AU Draw Series taught me to be responsible; I tried my very best to create and post them on time. This increased my productivity.

But enough about me.

There's something I realized two nights ago; we, the fandom, are Bad Batchers ourselves. We can consider ourselves a family, but not one of us is the same and we're all interesting, and capable in our own unique ways. We can have our own opinion and stand about something and still coexist. Like our favorite charactera, we embrace and celebrate our differences.

This show may end. No more Bad Batch Eves, no more cryptic tweets that cause us to hyperventilate, no more Bad Batch Wednesdays but it will live on, through us.

I know there will be a day where we decrease in number, one by one, little by little, but still, the show will live on through our actions, our opinions, our choices we make after May 1, 2024 because I know that all of us were changed in some ways by these characters and this show.

To the crew, your cryptic tweets caused me sleepless nights, but thank you so, so much. It is through your hardwork that we had this wonderful show. Thank you for making every second of the past year so worthwhile and enjoyable for me and for everyone.

However this show will end, whether happy or sad, I am glad it happened. However short my time was with them, I am happy I had been here. However short my time with everyone in the fandom was or if some of you leave one day, still, thank you so much for being part of my life; I am so happy I met all of you.

To Clone Force 99, thank you. I've never loved anything like this before. May the Force be with you.

[plumpybread]

Who would it be if you were to revive one of your oldest OCs for use in your artwork today?

Hard question, I really love all of them!

I wish I had the motivation to draw all of them again, but if you know me you know I fixate on a new oc for like a week and draw and write a load of stuff for them then move on. They're still my babies though.

Maybe I'd say Anthony, I really love that big meat-addicted canadian hunk of a guy, and I thought his relationship with Adam was really wholesome.

Honorable mentions maybe Ace, Rudy or Caleb

[ninamodaffari]

Just to warn you guys -- this is a scam. You probably know it already, but most of these emails that go to your inbox offering money to either have your art in a magazine, buy it off you for Ethereum, or 'buy your piece for my wife for our wedding day' - are scams. Do not trust them, do not give away your personal information, do not send them money. They are preying on your desperation and appealing to your better nature with compliments, hoping to fool you.

IMG Caption:

Hello Nina,

I hope this email finds you wonderfully well! I'm Caleb Vaughn, an art collector from New York, and I've been utterly enchanted by your breathtaking artwork on Artstation. Your unique talent and style have truly captured my heart!

I am particularly interested in this artwork.

[artwork linked]

It resonates deeply with me, and I would be honored to make it a part of my collection. I'd like to extend an offer of 2.5 ETH to purchase this stunning piece. Moreover, I'm eager to explore the possibility of acquiring three additional artworks from your collection at the same price.

Your artistic voice is remarkable, and I'm excited about the prospect of supporting your creative journey. If you're interested, please let me know, and we can discuss the details.

Thank you for sharing your incredible art with the world. I look forward to the possibility of working together and witnessing your continued growth!

Warm regards,

Caleb,'

[something-tofightfor]

On Deck Part 4: Starting Line-Up

Pairing: Jack Daniels x Female Reader Baseball AU

Word Count: 10,185

Rating: M - language, some mentions of past sexual situations, pining (but is it mutual?)

Summary: In the days following Jack's first visit to your place, you're forced to think through just about every possible future scenario. And when he makes an offer you're not expecting, you start to believe that there might be just a little more to it than sex for him.

Author’s notes: 

I absolutely love this chapter. If you skip ahead to the end, there's a picture included to describe the type of view Reader has. I know not everyone is familiar with baseball stadiums and the opportunities they offer for seating, but I also don't want to ruin it too early.

This chapter ALSO features Jack wearing the uniform in this artwork - and is the entire reason this AU was started.

(On Deck universe masterlist for all the extras!)

While there are a lot of baseball references within this story, you only need to know the basics to enjoy it and understand what's going on - we're not getting overly technical here.

As always, if you have any questions or comments, please feel free to reach out.

The starting line-up is the official list of players who participate from the beginning of the game onward. This may change throughout the season, as players leave due to or return from an injury. Starters are usually the team's best players at their respective positions, and as a result, being a starter often comes with notoriety A spot in the starting line-up is hard-earned. 

You didn’t hear from Jack the following day, but you didn’t expect to. 

Not because you thought he’d used you, but because you knew how busy he’d be between driving to meet with the team in Louisville and then heading back to The Cavalry and playing in that night’s game. 

All day, though, you thought about him - and about the previous day… and night.

Your experience with Jack was different than those you’d read about online, or heard about at games. He’d treated you as an equal, giving you a legitimate explanation as to why he did and didn’t do or want certain things in bed. He hadn’t flaunted his status or reputation throughout the night, and his interaction with the girl at the ice cream parlor proved that Jack was focused on giving kids a good experience when they met him no matter where he was. It’s not just when he’s in uniform. 

You opted to work instead of taking the day off like you’d planned, and he was on your mind as you did so. The memory of his voice rasping in your ear and the feeling of his mouth on your bare skin sent shivers through you while you were poring over spreadsheets and drafting emails, and it made the day go much faster. By the time you were done for the night, you were almost vibrating, the truth of what had happened settling in. 

You’d slept with Jack Daniels. 

You’d met him for something he’d clarified wasn’t a date, and invited him back to your place without a second thought. He’d been nothing but kind to you, and you hadn’t felt that he thought less of you for being so forward. There was a small part of you that wondered if he thought you were easy. But he’s known for being a flirt. He’s been with a lot of people throughout his career, and … 

There was no way to know for sure what was going to happen until you heard from Jack again. You’d need to see how he acted the next time you spoke before you could assume anything - though with Jack, you figured it wasn’t safe to assume at all. 

You wanted to tell Erin what had happened. You wanted her to know everything, because in reality, it was thanks to Caleb that you were even in the position to meet Jack in the first place. But it felt wrong to talk about the not-date, and even more wrong to kiss and tell… so you held off.

And when you woke up on Tuesday morning to a text message from Jack, you were glad that you’d kept quiet. 

Check my Instagram. 

Before even sitting up, you did, groaning at the sight of his newest picture - a promotional shot for that weekend’s games, featuring a close up of his nickname on the back of a bright yellow jersey, the tip of his black bat’s barrel visible where it rested on his shoulder.

When do I get to see the whole thing? 

You double tapped the picture after replying, and didn’t expect a response. But Jack started typing back immediately, his message a completely unexpected one. 

Friday, if you come to the game. 

“Is that an invitation?” Blinking at your phone, you chewed on your lower lip. It seemed like it. It seemed like Jack was making good on his promise that you’d see each other again because he wanted to. But this time, it wasn’t to meet for ice cream. Instead, it was a personal invitation to his first game back with The Statesman. 

This weekend has been sold out for weeks, Jack. I’ll need to find a ticket, but I’ll see what I can do. 

You didn’t have a chance to open a search for tickets before your phone was ringing, Jack’s name on the screen. What the fuck? Why is he calling me? Taking a few seconds to compose yourself, you took a deep breath before answering. “Hello?” 

“‘Morning, sunshine.” He laughed and then scoffed. “That was real cheesy, right?”

“A little.” But you were laughing, too. “You’re up early.” 

“Have to stay on schedule during the season.” He paused and cleared his throat. “And I’ve got some packing to do before I come back to Louisville.” So he’s cleared. “I’ll be back for Friday night for sure.” 

“That’s great, Jack.” You rubbed at your eye with one hand. “Bet you’re happy.”

“I am. I miss my bed.” You didn’t know how to answer him, but he spoke again before the silence stretched for too long. “And about a ticket … I can get you in on Friday.” What? “Actually…” He trailed off, and a few seconds later, Jack sighed. “Do you think your friend and her brother would want to come with you?”

“I can see. I’m not sure. It’s a Friday night, so she’s probably going to be with her boyfriend, but -”

“Invite him too.” Jack said your name. “Give me a couple hours, and I’ll let you know for sure, but four of you shouldn’t be a problem.” 

“You don’t have to do that, Jack.” Sitting up straight, you held your phone tightly with one hand. “It’s -”

“I know.” You could tell that he was smiling, and when Jack spoke again, you heard the laughter in his voice. “I want to.” You didn’t argue, lifting your free hand and biting down on one knuckle. I want you to, too. “I know you’ve gotta work today, but can I call you back later? I need to make sure I’ve got tickets, and -”

“Of course. I’ve got a meeting at 11:30, but aside from that, I’ll be able to answer all day.” 

You hung up soon after that, Jack telling you to have a good morning and you repeating the same back to him. But you didn’t get out of bed right away, instead lowering your phone and staring at the ceiling in shock. What the fuck did I get myself into? 

— 

He called back a little after 1 PM, his cheerful voice loud in your ear. “Tickets are yours. All you’ll have to do is go to Will Call and give ‘em your name and they’ll be able to help you.” 

“Four of them?” He confirmed. “Thank you, Jack. I wasn’t… I didn’t think you’d…” 

“Well I did. And you’re welcome. I hardly ever ask for anything, and the ticket lady the players talk to loves me, so this was easy.” But the confirmation that you had tickets raised an issue for you - and it required you to explain it to Jack. 

“Erin’s going to ask how I got them.” Leaning back in your chair, you stared up at the ceiling. “And I don’t want to lie to her.” 

“So don’t.” His tone was matter of fact, Jack’s next words shocking you. “Tell her I got them for you.” But that will bring up what happened the other day. “Didn’t you tell her you were goin’ out with me last weekend?”

“No. I didn’t tell anyone.” He was silent in response, which surprised you a little. Why is that a shock to him? Did he really think I’d tell people? “That’s not my style, Jack.” 

“I appreciate that, darlin’.” It made you smile again, especially with the way his voice dropped as he spoke the word. “But you tell her whatever you need to. You don’t need to keep me a secret.” 

“I don’t think I need to tell her everything to offer her tickets to a game, but I’ll keep that in mind.” He laughed at you, the sound turning into a groan - and you savored the sound of it, biting your lip before you continued. “I’ll let you know for sure after I talk to her, but I’ll definitely be there on Friday even if they’re not.” 

“Good. That’s real good.” Jack cleared his throat. “I’m gettin’ ready to go to the stadium now, so if I don’t answer, that’s why.” He doesn’t need to explain himself to me. I don’t… why is he doing this? “Talk to you soon?”

“Sure.” Your smile widened, and when the two of you hung up a few seconds later, you tossed your phone down onto your desk. Shit. 

Things were escalating quickly, thanks to Jack taking the initiative - and it stunned you. He hadn’t mentioned seeing you again, though, which gave you pause. But he’s going to be busy before Friday, and then he’s got games all weekend, so there might not be time. Maybe that’s why he didn’t suggest it.

A quick check of the schedule told you that the team was leaving for a short road trip on Sunday afternoon, which meant that he’d be on the go almost immediately. So it makes sense. I’ll just see him from the seats. 

It was somewhat disappointing, there was no way around it. But the fact that he’d invited you in the first place cheered you up enough that you reached for your phone again, opening your messages with Erin. 

Hey, got something to ask you. Call me when you’re done with work? 

— 

Her phone call came just after 5 that day, Erin’s greeting friendly but curious before she jumped right in. “You usually don’t ask to ask me things. Why today?” 

“What are you doing Friday?” Tilting your head back, you closed your eyes and enjoyed the heat of the sun on your face. “Friday night, I mean. After work?” 

“Troy and I were going to go to dinner, but that’s about it.” Perfect. “Why? What are you doing on Friday?” 

“Do you want to go to the Statesman game?” You paused, opening your eyes and looking out at your yard. “You and Troy and Caleb?” She was quiet for a few seconds and you were too, waiting. “I’ve got four tickets, and -”

“Isn’t it Players Weekend? I thought it was sold out. Caleb’s been talking about it for like a month.” 

“It is. And yeah, it’s sold out. But I was offered tickets. Free tickets.” 

“From where?” There it is. “Did they reach out because they saw your post about Caleb and Jack?” You thought of Jack’s words - of him telling you to tell Erin, of his assurances that it was alright for you to talk about knowing him. I’m still not going to tell her everything, but … 

“No. It wasn’t the team, Erin. It was Jack.” You heard her intake of breath, but before she could say anything, you continued. “He messaged me after he saw it the other day, and we ended up going out on Sunday night for -”

“You what?!” She screeched the words in your ear and then laughed. “Shut the fuck up.” 

“We went and got ice cream. He was up here to work out with the team and to take pictures for next weekend, and had no plans, so…” 

“So you went out with him. Fuck me, that’s wild. I told you making that post was worth it. So you went out on a date and then he offered you tickets for another game? Why four? Why not just -”

“I’m not sure.” Standing, you stepped out onto the grass, the blades of it cool against your feet. “But he called me this morning and suggested it. He specifically mentioned you and Caleb, but I have no idea where the tickets are, so I can’t promise anything.” 

“He called you? He must like you.” She laughed, the sound turning into a hum. “What else happened Sunday aside from the ice cream?” She was teasing you - and there was no concrete reason for you to answer her, but you did anyway. 

“He came back here for a little while.” Curling your toes, you let out a long sigh. “He didn’t stay the night, though. So -”

“Good for you.” She said your name, waiting until you were quiet to say anything else. “And now he’s offering you tickets. You definitely made an impression.” Your mind wandered back to the time you’d spent with him - to the way his mouth felt as it met yours and the way his hands skated over your skin as they explored your body. He definitely left an impression on me. “I don’t think we should tell Caleb where the tickets are coming from, because he’ll never let you hear the end of it.” She hummed, the woman clearly thinking on her end of the line. “But we’ll go on Friday. It sounds fun.”

“We can take one car. I’ll pick you up.” Walking back to your patio, you paused at the edge of it. “And … Erin? Maybe don’t tell Troy either. Jack said that I could tell you that they’re from him, but I don’t … I don’t know what’s going on, so -”

“My lips are sealed.” She laughed again. “I do have one question, though.” I can already tell this is going to be a doozy. “What’s he like? He handsy? Does he talk a lot? How does he kiss?”

“He’s … thorough.” Your cheeks heated as you spoke, your fingers curling around your phone. Very thorough. “And I would very much like to kiss him again.” A lot. Erin snorted at your reply, muttering the words I knew it under her breath. “He’s nice, Erin. Confident and a little cocky, but not insufferable about it. A little girl interrupted us while we were eating, and he didn’t get mad. He took a couple minutes to talk to her about baseball, and it was just …a relief, I guess? I don’t know. I’m glad he’s not an asshole.” 

“I am too. That would be really disappointing.” It would. “But I’m going to drive home now. Work kicked my ass today, and I need to eat.” She let you know that she’d get ahold of you after she talked to Troy and Caleb, and then you hung up, deciding to go back inside so that you could start dinner, too. 

While you cooked, you sent a message to Jack, giving him an update. You kept it simple, giving yourself no time to overthink your words. 

Erin’s in. Looks like it’ll be all four of us Friday. 

You figured he wouldn’t reply, but your phone vibrated a few minutes later with his answer. 

Real happy to hear that. It’s gonna be a good game. 

You thought that was it, but moments later another message came through - and there was a picture attached to it. Second to last time I’m putting on this uniform.

It was slightly blurry and off-center, but it was of Jack. He was dressed in his uniform and missing his hat, the grin on his face wide. You looked closer, seeing that he was standing in front of his locker, and realized that he’d likely taken the photo only moments before sending it. That means it was for me, and… “Shit.” 

If he’d sent you a photo, that meant he was probably waiting for a reply. You didn’t keep him waiting, sending back a winking emoji along with the text: Looking good, Jack - DAMN. But I think I prefer your other uniform. 

It was just flirty enough to let him know you appreciated it, and not over the top the point he’d think you were being clingy. But after a few minutes, you saw that the message had been delivered - and unread … which meant he’d see it after the game. And that means I have a few hours to relax. 

But you didn’t relax. Instead, you ate dinner on the couch and tried not to think too hard about the Friday night game. 

— 

You were a few minutes early to Erin’s on Friday, and Caleb was already waiting in the front yard when you pulled up. 

You heard him yelling for Erin and Troy, even with the windows shut. By the time he was reaching for the door handle, you were laughing, head tilted down and one palm flat against your forehead. “Hey, Caleb. Let me guess… you’re excited.” 

“Of course I am.” He settled into the back seat, buckling in. “Aren’t you? Won’t be as cool as what happened the last game, but my mom gave me money to buy a new jersey.” Well, for me, it’s even more cool, but you don’t know that.

“Oh yeah?” You caught his eye in the rearview mirror, grinning. “Whose are you gonna get?” The look on his face was answer enough, just like you’d assumed. “Jack, then. Hopefully they have one in your size.” 

Erin and Troy approached the car, the woman letting him pass her so that he could sit in the back with Caleb while she took her place next to you. But it was him that spoke first, greeting you and reaching forward to squeeze your shoulder before he was fully situated. “Thank you for driving. And thanks for the tickets.” 

“Yeah, thank you!” Caleb joined in, nodding enthusiastically. “Mom also said we’re supposed to -”

“My mother,” Erin interjected, reaching for the volume knob to twist the radio’s sound lower. “She said we’re supposed to buy you dinner tonight, as a thank you.” 

“It’s not necessary.” Heading down the street, you shrugged. “It’s not like I paid for these tickets, so if we split parking, it’s even.” 

“Still.” She elbowed you. “We’re going to buy you dinner and maybe a drink or two.” I might need those.

The four of you made small talk on the drive downtown, though the closer you got to the stadium, the quieter you got while they kept things going. Why am I nervous? It’s not like I’m going to run into him. 

But there was a chance you’d see him, and that Jack would see you. It seemed inevitable that Caleb would want to go back down closer to the field in an attempt to meet the man a second time. And if that happened, you couldn’t just hang back with Erin, letting Troy sit with the boy. No. I’d have to go, otherwise it looks like I’m avoiding him after he did something nice for us today. 

You were early enough that there was still available parking in the attached garage, and before you could do anything about it, Troy stuck his hand out the window, debit card held firmly between his fingers. 

Erin laughed about it as you pulled away to park, but all you managed was a tiny smile and quiet thank you before slipping into a space. Here goes nothing. 

The four of you joined the slow trickle of other fans heading toward the elevators. After getting on, Caleb inserted himself between Erin and Troy while you leaned against the far wall, chewing on your lower lip. 

“We have to go to Will Call first.” You looked at the preteen, raising a brow. “We can’t just run to get in line like last time.” 

He grumbled back that he knew, and you laughed, your mood lightening considerably. And as your group exited the elevator and turned toward where the ticketing windows were, you stayed that way. Troy offered to wait with Caleb so you weren’t all crowding the line, and you agreed, thankful for a few minutes of time alone with your friend. 

“He’s going to want to go and meet the players.” She spoke quietly, leaning closer to you. “What happens when you see -”

“Nothing.” You shrugged, taking a breath. “Or, nothing weird, I hope. He seems like the kind of guy that wouldn’t make a big deal of what happened.” 

“What about you?” You stepped forward, only a few people between you and the windows. “Can you be cool about it?”

“I’d hope so.” You looked over at her, grinning. “It wasn’t awkward when he left, so I think I did pretty well there.” She didn’t say anything else until it was your turn, Erin stepping forward with you and waiting to see what you’d say. “Hi. I’m supposed to have some tickets waiting for me. I think I’m on a list?” 

The man behind the glass nodded. “I’ll need to see your ID.” Reaching into your bag, you pulled your wallet out and then handed the thin card over, sliding it through the opening. He took it and started typing, his eyes on the computer screen in front of him. “Oh.” He hummed, tipping his head to the side, and then reached for the phone beside the device. “Hey, we need to send someone from SL down to ticketing to pick up a group.” 

You glanced over at Erin, confused, but her expression was the same as yours. SL? What’s that? Turning your head, you looked over at Caleb and Troy, the little boy seated on a stone wall while he looked up to talk to the man. Why do we need to be picked up? The sound of your name got your attention, and you looked back at the window, sucking in a breath. “Yeah? Sorry. I -”

“If you and your group will step off to the side by the door,” he pointed, still smiling. “Someone will be down in a few minutes to escort you in.” He slid your ID back to you. “Have a good night.” You thanked him, somewhat dazed, and turned toward the door, Erin close behind you. 

“We didn’t get tickets? What happens now? What did -” 

“Fuck if I know, Erin. I have no idea what’s going on.” She waved her brother and fiance over, the two of them meeting you moments later. 

“What’s going on? Where are the tickets?” Troy looked between you, frowning. “Do we need to -”

“Someone’s coming to get us.” You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your shorts. “I know nothing else.” Jack had seemed certain that he had tickets available for you, so you weren’t worried about getting into the stadium, but as to whatever else happened, you were clueless. Maybe it’s one of the lower sections. Maybe it’s the club section and we need wristbands or something. 

No one had anything else to say, and by the time the door opened a minute or so later, you were even more confused. But the woman - who introduced herself as Mary - put you at ease. “Welcome to Players Weekend.” She opened the door fully, greeting you by name. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to your seats for the game.” Sneaking a look at your friends after you thanked her, you caught Erin’s eye, the woman’s gleaming with intrigue. “It’s a little busy tonight, so make sure you stay close.” 

You did - following Mary as she led you down a short hallway and then through another set of doors and onto the lower concourse. You felt better one you were inside with the crowd, the thought that since you were in the stadium, that was all that mattered crossing your mind. 

But your thoughts blanked as she led the four of you toward a third set of doors and used a badge hanging from her belt to unlock them. “Where are we going?” Caleb broke the silence, the boy pushing forward to stand next to you. “I’ve never been in here before.” 

“This is the entrance to the dugout suites.” Mary looked down at him, her smile gentle. “Not many people have been in them before.” The dugout suites? Freezing at her words, your mouth dropped open. Jack, what did you do? “Come on. Yours is one of the cozier ones, but it’s one of my personal favorites.” A fucking suite? 

You walked down another hallway, the space curving to follow the shape of the stadium, and you realized that you were heading toward the Statesman’s dugout. Your head whipped to the side and you saw that Troy had put that together, too, his eyes wide and his grin threatening to split his face. “A suite? Right by where the players are?” Caleb was next to Mary, the boy’s voice loud. “Why are we -” 

“I don’t know.” She stopped in front of a door that had the words CHAMPAGNE LOUNGE engraved onto a golden plaque next to the team’s logo before reaching for the keycard again “But I do know that you’re going to have an amazing time.” She swiped the card and the light turned green. “Go ahead. Open the door.” Caleb looked back at you and you nodded, lips pressed together in a thin line. 

He opened the door and cautiously peeked inside, but as soon as he saw something, he darted in, leaving the rest of you standing in the hallway. Erin called after him, rushing forward and following him inside, but Mary only laughed, pushing the door all the way open and gesturing for you to follow. 

“The view is incredible, I don’t blame him for being excited.” 

She wasn’t lying. The entire back wall of the suite was windows so that the field stretched out in front of you, a cluster of seats on a small porch visible through the tinted glass. Caleb was busy pulling the door open to get to where they were, but you stopped just inside of the room, shaking your head. “This is too much, I just …” 

“My advice?” Mary looked at you, raising her eyebrow. “Enjoy it.” I will, but… “This is the Champagne Lounge.” 

“As in the team owner?” Troy stepped forward, arms crossed. “That Champagne?”

“Yes.” Mary nodded, giving you a wink. “He chose the decor, so that’s not on us, but …” You really looked around for the first time and had to bite back a laugh at the way it was decorated. I mean it makes sense, but … 

Everything was rustic and warm, the countertops and table surfaces made from gleaming wood. The floor looked a little rougher and worn, and you saw a few small area rugs scattered throughout the space, which made it more inviting. “You have a full menu available to you.” She moved toward the counter, picking up a small binder. “There are snacks and drinks along the back wall,” she pointed with one hand, flipping the pages open. “Left fridge is water and soda. The other is filled with beer, and there are a couple bottles of the Statesman/Whiskey collaboration for you to use.” He shield the binder up. “But if you want other kinds of mixed drinks, they’re all in here and you can order them to be delivered. Same with the food options.”

“How much -”

“Everything is complimentary.” Her smile was soft. “You’ll have an attendant that will come and check on you once I’ve let them know you’re in here, and they’ll be available whenever you need them through the tablet on the counter. But anything in this menu is fair game.” 

It made your head spin. You’d assumed that you’d have tickets somewhere decent - maybe in the lower level - but hadn’t ever even dreamed that Jack would get you a suite, much less Champ’s suite. 

“There’s also something for you in that box over there.” Mary gestured toward a white, rectangular box that was sitting on a small side table. What the hell is that? “There’s a bathroom back here,” she pointed at the side wall, and then put her hand on her hip. “The door does lock if you go out into the hallway, so once all of you leave the suite, you can’t get back in.” 

“Ok.” You nodded, blinking slowly. “It’s taking me a little while to catch up. This is … I wasn’t expecting these seats, and …” She laughed, asking if there was anything else you needed, and when you said no, she turned away and headed for the door, letting you know that someone else would be in a few minutes later. 

And once she was gone, you finally exhaled, covering your face with both hands. “You must have done something right. This is fucking insane!” Erin put her hands on your shoulders, saying your name. “How did -”

“I don’t know.” Biting your lip, you shook your head rapidly. “I have no fucking idea, this is …” 

“Are you guys coming out here?” Caleb poked his head in, his eyes bulging. “You can see the whole place. We’re right next to the dugout. I can see the steps where the players walk out onto the field!” Troy took a few steps forward and Erin followed, looking back at you. 

“Give me a second.” You could tell she was worried, but she still went, leaving you alone in the interior of the suite. After spinning slowly around to take everything in, you reached for your phone, fingers shaking as you opened your text with Jack. The last message was from him, sent hours earlier - and telling you to enjoy the game. 

You didn’t know what to think. You wanted to let him know you were grateful, but didn’t trust your voice not to waver in a voice message. So you settled for raising the device and taking a selfie, the suite and field visible behind you. 

This is too much, Jack. But thank you. I don’t even know what else to say. 

He was likely getting ready in the locker room - and you didn’t know if he’d even see the message before taking the field. But he’ll see it later. And he’ll see what time I sent it. You were just getting ready to put your phone away and join your friends when a message popped up on the screen. 

You’re welcome. But where’s your jersey? 

“What jersey?” You hadn’t ever told him that you owned one, but when your eyes flicked over to the white box again, your stomach dropped. He didn’t. Leaving your phone on the counter, you approached the box, dimly aware of the sounds of your friends talking through the open door. Using both hands, you lifted the lid, swearing as the contents came into view. “Jesus, Jack. What the fuck.” 

There was a note sitting atop the bright yellow fabric, and with unsteady hands you reached for it, heart pounding while you read the words. 

(Note text: Couldn’t start the game dirty. Thought you might want this though. JD)

You lifted it out of the box, holding it up in front of you. Immediately, your eyes were drawn to a black smudge on one shoulder, and you laughed as you realized what it was from. He’s worn this. 

It was the jersey he’d worn in the promo shots, and the smudge was from the bat where it had rested on his shoulder. And I get to keep it? 

Before you could second guess yourself, you pulled the jersey on over the clothing you wore, leaving it unbuttoned. Shivering at the thought that the last person to have worn it was him, you leaned back over and grabbed your phone before heading outside. 

Erin’s eyes widened at the sight of you, and Troy also looked surprised, but after a swift shake of the head from your friend, he stayed quiet. Please do. I don’t want to talk about this right now. 

Caleb was standing on one of the seats, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the ledge in front of him. Instead of saying anything to your friends, you focused on him, calling out his name. “We got a pretty good view, hmm?”

“Yeah. The on deck circle is right there. Theres a net in the way, but it doesn’t matter. We’ll get to watch everyone while they wait to hit.” What? You crossed the small space and stood next to him, also resting your elbows on the ledge. “Do you think I can take pictures of the batters?”

“I don’t see why not.” You eyed the ground in front of you, the Statesman logo almost mocking you. It’s so close. He’s going to be right there before he bats. “Just make sure the flash is off. I feel like it would be pretty distracting otherwise.” He agreed with you, nodding. 

“Hey, take a picture of us.” Erin leaned forward, holding her phone out. “We’ll send it to my mom.” You did as she asked, taking a few of the three of them standing in front of the netting. It was only then that Caleb saw what you were wearing, the boy asking you question after question that you answered with partial truths. 

You didn’t want to lie to him, but knew Erin was right; telling Caleb that you and Jack were in contact wasn’t a good idea. Not yet. Not until I know more about what this is. But seeing your jersey brought up the fact that if you couldn’t get back into the suite after leaving, there was no way for Caleb to get his. 

He was disappointed until the suite attendant appeared a few minutes later to take your food order - and then asked if there was anything else she could do for you. “Is there any way he could go and buy a jersey? We didn’t know we’d be in a suite, so we didn’t stop on the way, and he’s -”

“Of course.” She looked down at Caleb, grinning. “I can take you, or one of the adults here can come with us.” She pointed. “There’s a team shop right above where we are.”

‘I’ll go with you, buddy.” Troy stepped forward, reaching out to ruffle Caleb’s hair. “Might want to get one of my own.” He looked over at you and winked, and it took everything in you not to groan. Smooth, Troy. 

They left you and Erin moments later, and as soon as the door shut behind them, she whirled to face you, her eyes wide. 

“We’re in the owner’s suite. He gave you the fucking jersey he wore to do promo shots for this weekend.” She scoffed, raising her voice. “Fuck, that’s probably the first Statesman uniform he’s had on since he got hurt, and now it’s yours.” She paused, gesturing toward the field. “You must have been amazing in bed, because -”

“Erin.” Holding both hands up, you shook your head. “I’m just as confused as you are. He said he wanted to see me again, but when he asked about tickets for this weekend, he didn’t mention anything after, just… this.” You used one hand to indicate the suite you were in. “And by this I mean tickets. I had no idea it was going to be a suite. It’s too much.” 

“Maybe he’s hoping for a really nice ‘thank you’ blowj-”

“I don’t think so.” You cut her off, sinking into one of the chairs and crossing your arms. “I asked if I could the other night, and he said no, because we didn’t know each other well enough. And I don’t think that’s changed.” 

You didn’t want to admit that the same thought had crossed your mind - that Jack was being so generous because he expected something in return. But he didn’t hesitate to ask for things in bed. If it happens again, he’d just tell me what he wanted so that I could either say yes or no. 

“You’re joking.” She sat next to you, crossing her legs and leaning closer. I’m not. “Did … did you even have sex? Because if you didn’t, and he’s doing this? Then -”

“We did.” It was a relief to admit it, even though you hated the idea of spreading personal details. “And it was good, Erin. Like, really fucking good. But there’s no way it was this good, especially for him. You’ve seen the same things online that I have about him. No one’s ever … people would talk about him doing this for them. And no one has.”

“So maybe they lied.” She shrugged. “Maybe they said he wasn’t attentive or interested in more than one night because it was their way of dealing with the fact that he never called them again.” She bit her lip. “Maybe it was them wanting to get the last word in and make it harder for him to do the same in the future.” She reached out, taking your hand and squeezing it. “And maybe the ones that he did this stuff for, if he has in the past? Maybe they respected him enough to keep it quiet.” 

She’s probably right. You swallowed hard, turning your head to look through the netting and at the field. For everyone that had said something negative about their experience with Jack online, there had to be others with good experiences that had kept their mouths shut. And I’m one of those. “What would I do without you?” Squeezing her hand before you let go, you stood again and went back inside of the suite, Erin following closely. “Want a drink? We can open these bottles of Statesman, according to Mary.” 

She did - and by the time Caleb, Troy and the attendant came back a little while later, the two of you were laughing over your drinks, a few of the bags of snacks open on the table between you. Both guys had bought jerseys - Caleb’s was a smaller version of yours, while Troy was wearing one of the Statesman home blues, Jack’s last name and number on the back. 

The food arrived shortly after, and once each of you had made a plate, you headed back outside to sit in the seats and watch the on-field activity, Caleb narrating around mouthfuls of chicken tenders and french fries. 

You relaxed the longer you sat with your friends, and by the time the players started to come onto the field for warm-ups, you’d talked yourself into a state of calm. 

Sort of. 

You were fine until Jack took the field, a chorus of cheers coming from further down the third base line - the same as it had been when you and Caleb had seen him the previous week. Erin shot you a look but you ignored it, instead watching as he began his stretches, the same dark-haired woman supervising each movement. 

He looked good, and even though it had only been a little over a week since you’d seen him play, you could tell that he was stronger, too. “He looks better, right Caleb?” You nudged the boy, smiling at him. “Less hesitation when he -”

“He’s really stretching out those calves, hmm?” Erin cleared her throat. “He’s very flexible.” You glared at her and she wrinkled her nose and winked, but didn’t say anything else, even as Troy snorted into his drink. She’s not wrong, though. 

“Sorry we won’t get to meet the players today, kiddo.” Leaning forward, you propped your elbow up on the ledge in front of you before resting your chin on your hand. “I know how much you wanted to do that.”

“Are you kidding?” He turned to look at you, rolling his eyes. “This is way better. We get to see everyone up close.” You agreed - and so did Troy, and for the next few minutes, the four of you watched the players in silence, though your attention was specifically on Jack and his trainer. 

When he stepped out of view to talk to fans in the stands, you decided to go back inside and make yourself a second drink - the last one you were planning on having, since you had to drive home. Once it was mixed you lifted the cup to your lips, your other hand on the bottle. Just enjoy tonight. It doesn’t have to be more than this. You swiped your thumb slowly over where his signature was etched into the glass and took a deep breath before turning to head back outside. 

But when you reached the door, you paused, sucking in a breath at the sight of Jack crouched down in front of the netting and talking to Caleb, Erin and Troy. He must have caught your movement in his peripheral, because he looked up and nodded, his grin widening. “There she is.” 

“Hello, Whiskey.” You raised your glass, giving him a genuine smile, even as your heart pounded. “Welcome back to Louisville.” 

“It’s good to be here.” His lips twitched, one hand lifting to pull his hat off before he repositioned it on his head, never breaking eye contact. “You got the good seats tonight.” 

“We do. The good liquor, too.” That got a laugh out of him, Jack rising to his feet and straightening his shoulders as you brought the drink to your lips. 

“Enjoy yourselves. I’ve gotta get goin’.” He turned away and paused, putting a hand on his hip before he spun back to face all of you. What are you going to say, Jack? “Nice jersey, by the way.” You nearly choked on the liquid in your mouth at his words, and if Jack’s quiet laugh was any indication, he was very aware of it. You jackass. 

You caught his wink and then he did disappear, heading down the stairs and into the dugout. Ok, that could have gone worse. It could have gone better, too, but at least you hadn’t made a fool of yourself in front of him - which was the important thing.

The sound of Caleb talking about how Jack remembered him faded as you went back inside, setting your drink down on the counter and then gripping the edge of it, head lowered. The hard part’s over. He saw me and he knows I’m here, and he saw me in the - 

“He likes you.” Troy was right behind you, and even though you jumped at the sound of his voice, you recovered quickly, spinning to look at him. What? “He walked over and immediately said hi to Caleb, but he looked around and he seemed disappointed. And then you came outside and his mood changed.” Troy’s smile widened, and he stuck his tongue into his cheek briefly before saying anything else. “And if he looked for you, that means he knew you were going to be here, and -”

Shit. Is it that obvious? “I’m not going to confirm or deny a goddamn thing.”

“You just did.” Troy laughed, reaching out with one hand to squeeze your arm. “Good for you, though. He seems like fun.” You have no idea. “We should go back out there. The game’s going to start.” 

Wordlessly, you followed Troy back out and into the seating area - just as the request to rise for the National Anthem blared out through the loudspeakers.

— 

By the sixth inning, you weren’t worried about what was going on between you and Jack anymore. Instead, you were upset, because The Statesman were losing. 

It was no fault of Jack’s, though - he’d gotten a single and walked in his two at bats, the crowd giving him a standing ovation each time he headed to home plate. He’d also made a few really good plays at third - one of them throwing out someone at home as the other team tried to bunt in a run. 

The rest of the team was the problem, with errors made in the outfield, a dropped ball by the shortstop and three really bad pitches that had resulted in six total runs scored. There was still time for a comeback, and even though chances were growing slimmer by the minute, a three run deficit wasn’t too much to overcome. 

When Jack took his place in the on-deck circle, there were two men on and only one out. You stayed in the position that you’d been in for most of the game - arms crossed and elbows resting on the wall in front of you, leaning as close to the action as you could get. 

Watching him up close was special, and you’d snapped a few pictures in his earlier at bats of him bending over and adding the weights to the bat before he swung, as well as of him with it perched on his shoulder and in motion. It wasn’t just Jack that you photographed, but you paid more attention to him than the others. 

You were so close that you could hear the players grunting and groaning as they took their practice swings, as well as some of the things they yelled back to the other players in the dugout and on the field, and Jack was vocal. It didn’t surprise you after the time you’d spent with him, but if you’d said that the way he was on-field and with his teammates and the ump crew wasn’t a turn on, it would have been a lie. 

Because if the fans got into the game, Jack was on another level. 

He paused in his swings to watch the at bat in front of him, and after one particularly bad call, you heard his disdain for the ump - the man’s shout of “That wasn’t a damn strike even in a little league game!” clearly audible, as was the way he ducked his head toward the ground and kicked the dirt in a side-to-side motion with one cleat while he repeated the word “bullshit” under his breath. 

During a visit to the mound by the catcher, Jack looked over at where you were, locking eyes with you and rolling his, mouthing the word “bullshit” again. You laughed in return, mouthing the words I know, before shaking your head. It was easier than you’d thought it would be to interact with him, and part of you wondered if it was because it was pointed but not personal, and that he wasn’t hiding his actions.

The entire stadium groaned when the batter popped out and the runners couldn’t advance, but those groans turned into cheers when Jack’s walk up music started, and your breath caught in your throat again when he looked over at your suite before he headed to the plate, smirking and giving you a quick wink. 

“He changed his song!” Erin leaned over, elbowing you a few times. “This is my favorite one!” It was yours, too - and you’d always thought that it was a little inappropriate for an MLB stadium filled with kids - but that day, you didn’t care. 

He strutted toward the batter’s box as Pony blared through the speakers, and you didn’t look away for a second. And neither did any of the other women in this stadium if those cheers are anything to go by. 

He stepped into the box and then got ready, kicking at the dirt and using one hand to tug on the front of his jersey, making sure that the chain he wore was resting flush against his chest, and not on top of the material. He took a few practice swings and then tapped the bat against the plate, releasing a breath and nodding before settling the lumber back on his shoulder. 

“C’mon Jack!” You yelled the words and smacked your palm on the wall a few times, shaking your head. “Bring ‘em home!” Erin laughed next to you, but she also cheered, and then Caleb joined in, the three of you going silent just before the pitcher set and threw. 

It was a ball - so far inside that it almost hit Jack, but he stayed in place, cocking his head to the side as he lifted the bat and took another swing before settling it back in place. 

The crowd was loud - roaring out his name when Jack swung at the next pitch and made contact. The noise increased until it hooked foul, everyone wincing and groaning. He didn’t even run, though. He knew it wasn’t fair. Jack adjusted his gloves and then stepped back into the box, getting situated just in time for another pitch - that one ball two. 

“A single scores one.” Troy reached up, linking his fingers through the netting as he leaned closer. “A double will score both, and -” Jack swung and missed, and you lowered your head, swearing. Fuck. “Come on Daniels!” Troy let go of the fence and clapped his hands. “Just wait for your pitch!” 

He didn’t swing the next time and as the count ran full, the atmosphere in the stadium changed considerably. If no one scores here, the game’s over. It was a nervous energy that coursed through you, but when you looked back at Jack, you saw that he was still calm, his grip on the bat handle loose as he stepped out of the batter’s box and looked around the stadium. 

“He’s going to strike out.” Troy sat back, shaking his head. “This pitcher’s been too good today.” 

“No, he’s not.” Caleb scowled at the man, phone in hand. “He’s going to get a hit.” He jumped up and down a few times. “He has to.” 

“Whatever happens, it needs to happen now because I feel sick to my stomach.” You mumbled the words, lowering your head and groaning. “Come on, Jack.” You wet your lips and looked back at him, watching as he rocked back and forth, awaiting the pitch. 

You knew as soon as he swung that bat that he’d make contact - and when, moments later, the crack of the connection reached your ears, you knew it was gone. And so did Jack, the man keeping his eye on the ball as he headed to first, and then throwing both hands up into the air and cheering as he rounded the base.

“Fuck yeah, Jack!” You jumped up and down and then turned to hug Erin, the woman squealing in your ear before she let go and reached for Troy, who was shaking Caleb back and forth in celebration, the boy yelling in excitement. 

You focused back on the field - where the two men that had been on base were waiting at home plate for Jack. When he rounded 3rd, you cheered louder, clapping your hands and yelling out his name. There was little chance that he could hear you over the others in the stadium, and when he got to home and stomped on the base, the other two engulfing him in celebration and knocking his hat off, you wished that you’d had your camera out - and had gotten the moment on video. 

The three of them headed back in your direction, Jack at the center of the group, and even though it was fast, you didn’t miss his glance at your suite, or the tiny nod and smirk he gave you when you grinned up at him, biting down on the inside of your lip. Oh, shit. 

“That was awesome!” Caleb’s voice broke the moment, and when you looked over, you saw that he was following the three men with his phone. “And I got it all on video!” He lowered the device and then beamed up at you and his sister. “If I send it to you, will you post it?”

“That’s a long video to post, buddy.” Troy settled back into his seat, scrubbing a hand over his face as the next batter swung and missed. “But it’s really cool that you got it all.” He looked sad but agreed, and when Caleb looked at you again, you raised a brow. 

“You can still send it to me if you want, though. I’d love to watch it.” And to see if he got that smirk in there, because… damn. 

He told you he would once you were out of the stadium, and then Caleb tucked his phone away and returned his attention to the field, where the batter had just struck out, ending the inning. But they’re tied now, and that’s all that matters.  

For the next two and a half innings, neither team scored, which meant that it all came down to the bottom of the ninth. Jack was due to bat third, which meant you’d get to see him once more that night. And that might be it for a while. 

You’d taken advantage of the suite during the game, getting more to eat and drink, ordering ice cream sundaes that were delivered by your attendant, and watching a few at bats on the TV mounted to one wall instead of live in front of you. It was an experience that you’d never forget, and you’d heard your friends say the same throughout the night. 

Neither Erin or Troy had said anything about Jack’s wink or the nod, but you knew that they’d seen both. She wouldn’t spill your secrets to him, but you knew he’d likely ask, and part of you wondered what would happen if things continued between you and Jack, even on just a friendly basis. I’d have to tell them then.

The attendant told you that both bottles of Statesman were yours to take, and so between the 8th and 9th innings, you’d packed them up into the provided boxes and then tucked them into a bag that she’d left for you, along with the partially eaten candy and popcorn - figuring that they were just going to toss it anyway if you left it behind. 

And when the Statesman came up to bat for the final time, you rushed back out into the seats, standing between Erin and the left wall of the suite and drumming your fingers nervously against the concrete. 

That time, Jack paid no attention to the crowds while he waited to hit, instead crossing his legs at the ankle and leaning against the end of his bat, eyes on his teammate. “Just get on base.” You whispered the words, looking toward home. “Give Jack a chance.” 

The game meant very little in the grand scheme of things. 

The Statesman weren’t close to leading in the standings, and it would have taken a lot to get them to a contending position for the playoffs. But you still wanted them to win, if for no other reason than to top off Jack’s return. He did his part, though. He tied it up. 

And the man at the plate did his part, too, knocking a single between second and third, which meant that Jack got to the plate with one on and nobody out, his walk up song back to the one he’d used for his first two at bats. 

Caleb was nearly vibrating with excitement, his phone out and aimed at Jack once more - and you decided to do the same. Fuck it, you thought, pressing the record button. I’m just a fan right now. He took the first pitch - a called strike - and you watched him shake his head in disagreement, though he didn’t argue for too long. 

The second pitch slipped from the pitcher’s hand and veered downward, and even though Jack moved quickly, he couldn’t get out of the way. It hit the ankle guard he wore and bounced away, and for a few horrifying seconds, you worried that his return to the team would be short lived. 

The entire stadium booed, but the sound turned to a cheer when Jack bent over and pulled the protection off, tossing it to the side along with his batting helmet, and jogged to first. His trainer was close behind, the woman’s arms crossed over her chest as she assessed his condition and finally gave him the go-ahead to stay in. 

The game continued once she’d jogged back across the field and into the dugout, and you - along with thousands of others - watched anxiously, waiting. 

You didn’t have long to wait. On the third pitch of the at bat, he blooped a hit into shallow right, the ball hitting the ground and then skipping through the legs of the outfielder. 

The entire stadium roared, and the four of you did, too, cheering and clapping as the winning run crossed the plate. Erin wrapped you in her arms in celebration, but you kept your eyes on the field. I don’t want to miss this. Jack didn’t even finish rounding the bases and instead cut across the infield and headed for home, both arms out in front of him as he clapped and cheered. 

He’d lost his hat again as he hurried in, and by the time he was hugging his teammate, all of them jumping up and down, his hair had curled over his forehead - one lock hanging between his eyes. He got swallowed up in the crowd of people and you turned away, pulling free from Erin’s hold. 

“Hell yeah!” Troy pumped his fist in the air. “What a win.” It took a few seconds, but all of you managed to calm down and look back at the field, watching as the teams did their congratulatory handshakes and then broke for the dugouts and locker rooms. 

Jack got pulled for an interview, but you could barely see it, and so the four of you began to pack up, heading back inside after one final look at the field. The attendant was back, and she asked if you wanted a group photo before you left - something that Caleb agreed to for all of you. 

But once those were taken on all four phones, you had no reason to stay in the suite. She led you back down the hallway and to the main concourse, thanking you for coming and telling you to have a safe drive home before saying goodbye.

It was strange to be around so many people again after having no crowd to deal with for the entire night, but the mood was cheerful, and that hadn’t changed after walking back to the car and putting everything you carried into the trunk. 

You hoped you wouldn’t have to sit in traffic for very long. Because you’d gotten to the game so early and were on one of the lower garage floors, you got your wish. Only ten minutes later, you were out of the garage and on your way home. Caleb and Troy were having an intense conversation in the back seat, and Erin was leaning against her window, head propped up on one hand. 

“That was really cool.” You nodded, keeping your eyes on the road. “Make sure you thank the person that got those tickets for us.” You knew what she was doing - but refused to take the bait. “Or I can, if -”

“I’ll text when I get home.” You narrowed your eyes and looked over at her. “I promise.” You heard Troy snort in the back seat, but Erin thankfully didn’t say anything else. 

Caleb was the first one out of the car as soon as you parked, the boy yelling a ‘thank you’ at you before he sprinted toward the front door, bursting to tell his parents about the game. Troy and Erin hung back, and you were surprised to hear him speak first, after leaning forward to slot himself between the seats. 

“That was really fucking cool. Please, make sure you tell Jack that we appreciated tonight.” You assured him you would, and when Erin reached over to squeeze your knee, you cleared your throat. 

“Thank both of you for being … discreet.” Shrugging, you gripped the wheel with both hands. “I don’t want to make too much of -” You were cut off when your phone rang, and thanks to the fact that it was connected to your car via Bluetooth, they were both able to see exactly who was calling: Jack. “Not a word from either of you.” 

Erin laughed, but as you reached for the screen to answer the phone, she opened the door and got out, Troy not far behind. Your finger hovered for a second and then you answered, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. “Hey, Jack.” 

“I’m not interruptin’, am I?” 

“No, I just dropped everyone off, and I’m getting ready to go home.” Backing out of the driveway, you turned in the direction of your place. “What are -”

“Come over.” You sucked in a breath, looking away from the road and toward the display. What? “I mean, if you’re not busy, and want to, you can come over tonight. You should come over.”

“I don’t know where you live.” You glanced down, realizing that you were still wearing your clothes from the game. “And I need to go home and change, I’m -”

“You still wearin’ my jersey?” Confirming that you were, you were relieved to hear his groan, Jack’s continued words spoken in a much softer tone than he’d been using before. “Then you definitely don’t need to go home. I’d sure like to see you in that without a net between us.” 

You stopped at a light, pressing your fingertips to your mouth and thinking. You wanted to see him again. You wanted to spend more time with him. And if he’d called you immediately after arriving home from a walk off win, he obviously wanted to spend more time with you, too. Fuck it. Why not? 

“Alright, Jack. Send me your address and I’ll be there soon.” 

—

Sample dugout suite view:

Alternate Players Weekend photo (thank you @stealyourblorbos):

[exandriaborn]

every time caleb and dorian interact it feels like smushing my two special interest barbies together, but i have not been able to stop thinking about "you have many things that i am... envious of."

dorian has spent time with essek. he's now spent time with caleb too. he's been to their home (and even went out of his way to compliment their "lovely home" to caleb in episode 111.) he's seen the way the caleb and essek's home is not only filled with their immense love for each other but the love of the nein and how much that warmth and friendship means to both of them. he's seen their cute garden and all the jester artwork and the portraits and he's envious.

but the second caleb asks him what he means, the king of compartmentalization kicks back in and dorian just says "well, it doesn't matter." he showed his cards too much and it's right back to bottling up his feelings because allowing himself to hope for a life of love and friendship and warmth like caleb and essek and then nein have found in each other still feels like a distant hope he doesn't want to acknowledge.

[a-magpie-in-gravesfield]

So I was asked today on Etsy what scents I use for the custom letters, and I figured I should probably make another post about this - there is an Etsy seller who makes custom candles and fragrances, and I spent awhile researching scents and meanings behind them etc, so I might as well share my list :)

(The one used for the letters is Emperor’s Coven btw ! If you want the custom candles you can tell the seller you came from me and they can re use the same colors and toppings I used in mines, I also let them know they can re use my artwork for the candles :) )

Here are my scents list :

Emperor's Coven (the scent on the letters, what I imagine the castle/Belos smelling like - note : even cooler if you burn Frankincense incense at the same time for those castle vibes :) )

Scents : Incense, Library, Sage & Cypress, Golden Santal

Gravesfield (smells kind of “gloomy”, like sad forest vibes)

Scents : Rainy Morning, Incense, Sandalwood, Noble Pine

Peaceful Memories (based on the happier times Philip and Caleb had in Gravesfield, smells very sweet)

Scents : Firewood, Noble Pine, Moonflower, Red Rose

Lord Belos (based on the caravan I designed specifically, as in, what I imagine the inside smelling like.)

Scents : Mountain Mist, Sage & Cypress, Smoked Oud, Frosted Juniper

Preacher : (based on the preacher era as a whole)

Scents : Firewood, Woodland Snow, White Birch, Sandalwood

Beast (kinda smells like wet dirt)

Scents : Cut Grass, Cedarwood, Rainy Morning, Leather

[tiny-vermin]

I want to know more about the m9 artist au!! I remember reading a post or two about it a billion years ago (and would love to read them again) 💜

hi jess!!!! thank u for being interested hehe :")

so ever since i drew that lil thing of essek painting a frank stella inspired painting (or even before), ive been thinking of what kinds of art each of the m9 would do. essek ofc is inspired by a minimalist show that i went to here, all the big names from that movement were shown, but those really dark, sinkhole-like paintings are speaking to me. another artwork of boxes made of mirrors also seems like the thing he would do too

there's a kiln here that we visited which was huge, and surrounding it were artists' studios and some other ceramic sellers, i imagine the clay family having a place like this in the middle of nowhere amongst the trees, and caleb would do his work there

anyways because at heart im a shadowgast luver its centred around them,, they meet at an artist residency or something like that and its an incredibly slow burn that involves talking and not-talking and looking and not-looking. in the end i am but a simple wong kar wai fan so. that kinda vibes would definitely influence this, i would describe it as a quiet burning i guess?? time skipy and words that are not said

i think im gonna rant a bit more about their different mediums and styles so i'll keep it under the cut

i think caleb sculpts figures and portraits, but in a sad, kathe kollwitz charcoal vibe. maybe some funky looking animals, perhaps some pots and vases to look at the pretty glazes. he's interested in using fire to burn texture into different mediums, like ive seen it being used on shellac to make a really cool net of ink looking structure.. but yknow, just seeing the aftermath of glazed ceramic from the kiln is enough, and probably better for him to keep his distance anyways

the clay family produces most of the ceramic to sell, vases, pots, plates, cups, teapots, yknow just a whole array. and its really colourful too, depicting every family members different style. i think caduceus would do some matte glazes with a lot of different colours, theyre all a little wonky but theyre better off that way anyways. he does some really mean ink calligraphy and painting though

jester definitely does,, everything, whatever her heart desires kinda thang. she makes pastel textile installations and lighthearted cute paintings, but theyre always so contemplative and soothing. she gets m9 a lot of work cus her mom has connections, etc etc. i really love the idea of jester creating works that talk about the female body and femininity (definitely not projecting no)

beau is a printmaker and photographer who's really experimental, she loves cyanotypes and printing flowers (for yasha), idk she seems like she would put fabric and rocks into the washing machine to see what would happen. u would probably catch her in someone elses studio learning about what they do or in the library learning about what old people did

veth works in a museum as a curator, getting beau to help her sometimes with gathering artworks and artists etc. she probably organises community art projects for kids and public art installations. her house is full of m9's artworks and various other artists shes worked with.

yasha does bouquets as her post-retirement part time job, prior to that no one really knows what she did ("she probably murdered a bunch of people and is now hiding from the government"). fjord draws comics for fun but is also not a job for him, molly is a question mark for me. but these guys probably wont be in it as much anyways

im still not sure what format i wanna do this in, im actually having fun just writing it in my notebook now (digital does not facilitate the creative juices) but i do want to do some visuals like fake movie stills or storyboards. maybe they will work together well???? dunno. working on the other shadowgasty thing im doing made me realise how much easier it is to draw when there's a script already there, so im writing the script for myself

im definitely not as practiced in writing as i am in drawing, but idk im just gonna have some fun and see where that takes me, meanwhile try not to feel too bad that its fanart HAHA (very bad habit)

edit: i just saw my previous thoughts on beau being an art journalist, but i kinda like this better.. but maybe she can do both muah

[greglow03]

1 YEAR ANNIVERSARY ON AO3!!🎂🎉✨️

So today marks 1 year of me posting fics on AO3, so as a celebration special, I'm linking all of my fanfics here on this post with a bit of commentary looking back.🤗

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

Champions in Love [Volume1]. Red x Green (Nameless). So this one's my first ever fic and looking back on it, there are a few things I'd change if I were to remake it, but all in all I think it was a decent start. I have fond memories writing it. (If I get back into the fandom, I'm surely to write Volume 2 for this.)

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

Rockabye. Red x Green (Nameless). Okay, so this is a song fic I was possesed to make getting suddenly wakened at night by the idea of it. Is it the best? - no. But is it good? - it's decent and I have taken a liking to it. (Looks like writing characters as parents was a theme at the start too, lol.)

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

The Hot Choco. Red x Green (Nameless). Short & Sweet. This one was made for #reguriweek2023. Honestly, I remember trying to make an artwork, but had to do plan B writing, since it did not turn out how I wanted, so this was the result, but it's still sweet, if you want something really short.

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

The Sick Green. Red x Green (Nameless). A heart warming fic about Green getting sick and Red taking care of him. It was a collaboration between me and /@reguriflop from my previous fandom. I love how it turned out, and I had an amazing time writing it. (Thanks, Caleb for working with me!)

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

A Rose Through Time. This is my original work, which kind of brings the transition between fandoms. It's a story about my original character Lola. It means a lot to me and I'm more than happy with how it turned out. (A part 2 was planned and might still happen.)

------------‐--------

The High Score. GGY trio. The first Fnaf fic I wrote, which takes place post GGY and SB. It just came to me... don't have much to say about it.

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

A Reunion To Remember. 3starfam and beckory. Oh good old Reunion to Remember. My attachment to Beckory starts here. It was written for #ggyweek2024.

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

Brothers With Flashlights. Gregory & Evan. Now, I'm putting this as a series, since they all connect in a way. This is just my outlet for torch duo brain rot. They were fun to write, since I had to do a bit of figuring out on how their dynamic works/how I wanted to write them. (There's still more to come.)

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

The Tronpolis Mystery. Victim Duo, Beckory mixed in. This AU exists, because of the urge to put the characters into the Pokemon universe. And I wanted to write Tony pov. (Has been a bit, since the last chapter, but still is active.)

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

Quest For The Hearts. 4starfam. Now, I have to say that one of my favourite game stories is SPM, and this one is based off of it with a some altered changes and additions. I'm satisfied with how it's going and it still has more in store. (Next chapter's in the works.)

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

A Leaf On The Horizon. Beckory, Gregory & Evan, 2starfam and Victim Duo. What happens when you put Fnaf and Farming Sims together? Well, you get ALOTH. It is one of my favourites I've written. BECKORY is throughout this, and torch duo too, but less. There's a lot still planned. [There's kids planned too].

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

A Snuggle On A Stormy Night. Beckory and Beckory Twins. Speaking of kids, here you get Beckory as parents. It was written for #gregtober2024, but honestly it's just an excuse for me to write the 4. (Brain rot is real)

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

Well, that's a wrap for now. Thanks for sticking by!

~Bobby Squad🧡

[invisibleraven]

May I please have some "I'm here, you're safe" for Willie and anyone cause that boy needs some security!

Willie stood back, admiring his work-the east block of the school was now covered in his artwork instead of crude depictions of penises, swastikas, and offers for various sex acts. He thought it looked a lot better.

However, given the heavy hand on his shoulder and the stern voice in his ear, apparently the administration didn't agree.

"We've talked about this Willie," Principal Lessa said, massaging her temples. "Graffiti still counts as vandalism, no matter the intent."

"That wall has been tagged for forever, and it didn't seem like Mr. Barnes was gonna do anything about it," Willie grumbled. "I did you guys a favour-school beautification, free of charge."'

"You know I have to call your guardian about this."

Willie froze at that-his mind filled with images of Caleb; his anger, his disappointment, and all the ways he took out both on Willie. "P-please don't," he croaked. "I'll wash it off, do whatever detention you want, just don't call them."

Principal Lessa looked at him-a mildly concerned look on her face. "Willie, this is your third offence. Detention is going to cut it-I have to suspend you, and that involves parental consent."

"Can't I do in-school suspension? Spend the week in study hall? Community service? Anything that doesn't involve you calling home."

"My hands are tied. You can go wait in the hall until your guardian shows up."

Willie staggered out, gasping for breath, collapsing to the bench, vision going dark. Caleb was going to kill him.

"Willie?"

Willie looked up and saw Julie standing there, worry painting her features. He tried to rasp out a greeting, but the words wouldn't come, only the wheezing of his breath.

Julie immediately sat down next to him, a steadying hand on his back. "Okay, you're having a panic attack. Let's try to get your breathing back to normal alright? Copy me-in for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Can you do that for me?"

Willie shook his head, but Julie showed him what she meant, her small hand never leaving his back, with her murmuring "I'm here, you're safe." over and and over again and he slowly copied her, until his breathing was less raggad.

"Okay, let's try a ground exercise, then we can talk, how about that?" Julie said, her voice soothing. "I've done it a bunch with my therapist and it really helps."

"You're in therapy?" Willie asked, his voice hoarse.

"After my mom passed I was, I still go every so often," Julie said with a smile. "It helps. But this isn't about me. Now, can you tell me five things you can see?"

Willie went through the exercise with Julie, finding it genuinely did ground him, and slow his thundering heart. "Thanks."

"Anytime," she replied. "You wanna talk about it?"

Willie shook his head, holding himself tight.

"Anyone I can call? Family?"

Willie curled up even tighter at that, whimpering-that's where the problem lay, what had started this whole mess.

Julie's face drew up in concern then. "Willie... my aunt is a social worker-a damn good one at that. Do you want me to call her? She can help with whatever it is, I promise you."

"No one can help me with this," Willie whispered.

"You've never met Victoria Alvarez."

Soon enough, Julie's aunt was there-just as Caleb was making his entrance. Willie flinched under his guardian's glare-a fact that Victori picked up on, rushing over while Caleb went in to talk to Principal Lessa.

"Willie, hi, I'm Victoria, but you can call me Tia, everyone does. Listen, if he is hurting you, in any way, you tell me, and he walks out of here alone. But you have to tell me."

"I won't have to go with him?" Willie was petrified by the very notion-sure the punishment would be the worst he ever endured.

"Not if you don't want to, no. You can choose, if you want."

So WIllie told her everything, holding Julie's hand the whole time. Quickly, and not in full detail, because every tick of the clock was a precious one. But he was honest, and even though he was terrified, it felt good to tell someone.

Victoria drew in a breath, nodding along as Willie spoke, though her first instinct was to go in and murder Caleb Covington, she had to do things the right way.

"Okay, we're going to go have a chat. Julie, why don't you bring Willie to his locker to get his things, and I'll come find you?"

Later, Willie still isn't sure how she did it, but he was now under Victoria's care-until she could find him somewhere better.

"Unless you want to stay, and we can talk then."

She had gotten him a bunch of new stuff-he never wanted to go back to Caleb's house to retrieve anything, but she had asked for anything he wanted, and somehow gotten it from there. Willie's not sure if she's real, but he's got his board and his stuffed dragon toy back, which is all that really matters.

Julie sticks with him from then on out, saying she always wanted a local cousin, since all of hers are back in Puerto Rico. Introduces him to her friends, including Alex, who might be the prettiest boy Willie has ever seen.

Alex who totally agrees that Willie improved the school-and since the art is still there two years later when they graduate, WIllie figures that Principal Lessa did too.

Even if she'll never admit it.

[nemo-in-wonderland]

"It is expected, an oath by blood to hold the tome And the starlight passes overhead Fuels all the skills I've honed I am a guardian, a watcher of these ancient rites Yet I find myself drawn from that path On those dazzling moonlit nights

Let me hold you, keep you close to me I long to hear your voice But dearest, I know better now I must give you this choice

I can give you everything you need Or do you want to hear me plead? Just look my way, just look my way Is there something more that I don't know That you won't say 'til we've both grown cold? Just say, "Please, stay, look my way"

This unspoken contract, a deed we forged for mutual gain If that's all that was when you're not here What is this rooted pain? I don't care that you're of lower station Or primed to sate my dark temptations Why can't you understand? Let me explain

And I'm terrified, as I cry To make these feelings true What's left for me and my broken heart If I cannot have you

Unless it's me And no matter what in this world I could give It's not enough To break through the walls you've conjured up to live Is this what you feel? Scorned by a realm that cannot comprehend What you are So I'll grant you this mercy, this bind on our souls needs to end

I will try to make amends For making you means to an end So look my way, please, look my way And if there's something more that I don't know I'll save us both before we grow cold If you'll stay, just say, "Look my way"

JUST LOOK MY WAY (STOLAS' LAMENT) - cover by Caleb Hyles

While I was brainstorming today for the artwork, I couldn't find a moment of respite, because my mind was going back and forth thinking how to ansker the ask I got earlier on, and I had to actually let my ideas out and at least do something about it.

So, I went, picked a song from my Mephistea's playlist and just went to town with this Mephistea's Moodboard!!

(And I was so happy that I actually managed to found the Infernal font, so that I could write Mephisto and Aranea's name there :D :D)

I am actually happy with how this turned out, even if I always suffer a little that I can never find a perfect representation for Aranea 😭😭😭😭

But I love Carice too much as her FC, so I am just going with the flow (as I always do lolol).

I hope you will like this!

--Nemo

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Friday, November 1st

Willow: She couldn't've dressed up like Xena?

~~Halloween~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

but now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps by FanFreak611 (Angel, T)

Life sang the refrain of love by ohrevienssoleil (Giles/Jenny, T)

nobody’s coming to save you, get up. by elliez_only (Buffy/Faith, G)

One Aeon Stand by thawrecka (Glory/Illyria, T)

A Well-rounded Diet by Sweetbutnutty (Buffy/Spike, G)

[Chaptered Fiction]

Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Shadowed Suspicion, Chapter 348 by madimpossibledreamer (Ensemble, Jojo's Bizarre Adventure crossover, T)

Death's Champions, Chapter 31 by Khatix (Faith, Harry Poter crossover, M)

Rebehold the Stars (Love from the Other Side of the Apocalypse), Chapter 19 by asokatanos (Emryslin) (Buffy/Spike, T)

A-Z of Sex, Chapter 26 (complete!) by KatyAmberAuthor (Buffy/Giles, E)

Firebell in the Night: Chapter 42 by TheLightdancer (Willow/Tara, E)

What A Fang-tastic Night! Chapter 3 (complete!) by Anonymous (Connor/Dawn, E)

Full Circle, Chapter 2 (complete!) by Anonymous (Buffy/Angel, T)

You're a Beautiful Person, Chapter 1 by firagasauce (Willow/Tara, M)

Whoa! Not What I Expected! 2, Chapter 1 by danu40k (Xander, NCIS and The Sentinel crossover, G)

The Neighbor's Point of View, Chapter 143 by the_big_bad (Buffy/Spike, PG)

Loop, Chapter 3 by simmony (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Me and the Devil Blues, Chapter 4 by Melme1325 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

The Metamorphosis of Moonlit Shadows: Chapter 1 by SlayrGrl (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Soul Searching, Chapter 1 by CheekyKitten (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Way Out, Chapter 1 by simmony (Buffy/Spike, R)

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork: Giles by amylen-doodlebug (worksafe)

Artwork: 🦇🩸The Vampire Slayer 🩸🦇 by nerdfromthenet (Buffy, worksafe)

Artwork: Faith is very normal about Buffy by sideartblog999 (worksafe)

Artwork: Putting all the Buffy Halloween ladies together :) by Waiting for October (Buffy, Willow, Cordelia, worksafe)

The Sims: Buffy, Oz, Tara and Dawn by Nostalgia Sims Things

Wallpaper: Episodic art for BtVS 3х06 “Band Candy” by revello-drive-1630 (worksafe)

Cosplay: Buffy Halloween costume by loseremzo

Artwork: caleb art by bubbyusagi (worksafe)

Artwork: Buffy and co by bubbyusagi (worksafe)

Cosplay: Vampire Willow by Spirited-Mess5382

Cosplay: Finally Got To Be my Hero! [Buffy] by helloelysium

Cosplay: Spike and Dru 🎃♥️ by out_in_wonders

Cosplay: Little Red Buffy Hood by Nocturnal-Nycticebus

Cosplay: My 1970s Spike costume by SuccADucc

Cosplay: 1970s Spike Costume by Good-Commission-6541

Fanvid: SPIKE | EVIL ( btvs ) by 𝖘 𝖆 𝖒

Fanvid: Spike and Buffy || From Eden by Angel

Fanvid: Buffy Summers || Inbred by Angel

Fanvid: Angelic Face | White Flag by Chloe

Fanvid: Blondie Bear | Here With Me by Chloe

Vidlet: that’s so true I buffy summers by Moon Edits

Animated comic: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 8 Episode 21 by Game Series

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer opening credits animated with REAL plasticine by Joseph Brett

Video: Buffy & Spike - The Odd Couple l BTVS Humor by Buffy & Spike Channel

Video: Editing Spike and Buffy's in-jokes | BtVS Older and Far Away S6x14 by DragonViviPlayz

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Revival Season 10 Episode 22: The Ends Not Near Its Here (P2) by Buffy the Vampire Slayer Chosen

Video: Disney Channel Ribbon era: Buffy the Vampire Slayer next bumper (FANMADE) by lovinthelawn

Music: Buffy The Vampire Slayer LOFI ▲ Halloween Lofi by Epic Game Music

Music: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Theme Song Cover by JGOMUSIC

Music: A Buffy Tribute | Buffy the Vampire Slayer cover by CarnivoreWerewolf

Music: Buffy and Angel Themes | Orchestral Arrangement by Christopher Fraser

From the Archives: African Portal Demon - Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 7 Episode 15 by Christopher Burdett

[Reviews & Recaps]

Video: Get it Done Slayer-Sunday by Jane Talks Buffy

Video: Buffy S03E06 "Band Candy" Spoiler Review by LGRN - Entertainment

Video: The Problem with Season 7 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Spica

Video: Will You Be Slaying Tonight? Buffy the Vampire Slayer Eps 1-3 by Jaymes Mansfield 2

Video: Buffy The Vampire Slayer [movie] - Brothers Not Lovers by Davy Is Awesome

Video: Spuktober #03: Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Paper Street Comic Company

Video: Buffy was Mythtaken—Leprechauns DO Exist in Sunnydale! [Fear Itself] by Fairy Tales and Fangs

Video: S4E11: Doomed by One Girl in All the World

Podcast: Buffy The Vampire Slayer 1992 (Andy Chose This Movie, Duh) by Fried Rice Podcast

Podcast: Buffy's Angels: Through the Looking Glass by The Franchise: A Film Podcast

Podcast: Episode 070 - Goodbye Iowa by Boys Watching Buffy (several other episodes were uploaded as well)

Podcast: New Moon Rising | Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 4 Episode 19 Review by Hellmouth Hotline

Podcast: Buffy's Angels: The Weight of the World by The Franchise: A Film Podcast

Podcast: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 4: Episode 10 - Hush by The Cheshire Kiwi

Unhinged: Agatha All Along by Once More by A Rewatch Podcast

[Search & Recs]

New Spuffy Fanfic Recommendations continued with multiple recs from multiple posters

Looking for a fic? [anything set post-canon dealing with long-term repercussions and consequences of the end of "Chosen", ideally with established Spike/Buffy and a minimum of new apocalypses] by Hannah

[Community Announcements]

The 2024 I Will Remember You Fic Marathon has officially begun! by I Will Remember You Marathon

Welcome IWRYFic class of 2024! by I Will Remember You Marathon

[Fandom Discussions]

Love the way Spike goes on and on about how much he can’t stand Angel in s5 while also going out of his way to seek out Angel’s company by thequeenofsastiel

Hang on, how the hell did Wesley recognize Spike? by thequeenofsastiel

There’s something about the way Spike says Angel’s name that makes it feel like a term of endearment by thequeenofsastiel

They really should have come up with a better reason for Spike to not go to Buffy once he was corporealized by thequeenofsastiel

Spike actually looks genuinely concerned when he’s talking to Angel in 5x02 about Angel working for Wolfram&Hart by thequeenofsastiel

Anyone else notice how rare it is for Spike to use someone’s name when he’s talking to them? by thequeenofsastiel

by

by

Rewatch thoughts and questions [Welcome to the Hellmouth] continued by multiple posters

So little makes sense - does S5 have the weakest written Big Bad storyline? continued by multiple posters

First time watcher finally finished the show [AtS] and I'm updating with some thoughts!! by SnooPoems3080

Hollow stake by Dry-Dragonfruit5216

Just finished watching season 1 for the first time. Here are my thoughts so far by Diego1993FM

When did Spike start to love Buffy? by ChemistAlert9149

Right line, wrong character by Tuxedo_Mark

Made it to Episode 7: Angel. I think I’m officially hooked by The_Fullmetal_Titan

Andrew appreciation post by moses616

Remind me why Angel is worth watching? by mistakeghost

How do you guys think Buffy would be like if she got turned into a vampire? by user230224

Can we get some appreciation for the Yoko Factor by Forgottencupofcoffee

Which season had the strongest opening episode? by sKullsHavezzz

[Articles, Interviews, and Other News]

Video: KENDARE BLAKE 2024 interview: Against the Darkness: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (In Every Generation) by Amy McCaw

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