#my only lament is that so much of it happened off sCREEN

[wxnters-children]

That TFATWS to CABNW development got me sCreaming

[bambi-lamb]

over the phone

Summary: Ever since Wanda left for a routine work trip, things have felt off—even compared to previous trips. Things come to a head one day and you can't help but ring her up. Just to talk... well, at first anyway.

Tags: wanda maximoff x f!reader, 18+, smut, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, phone sex, dacryphilia, mommy kink, nipple play (is that a tag idk), implied sadomasochism (just a lil bit), remote vibrator, fingering

WC: 3,165

A/N: i know the tags are a little crazier than usual... and the length is double what i normally have. i don't know what happened— hopefully someone is into this though

"Detka? Are you there?"

The phone speaker crackles in the following silence, breaking you out of your stupor.

"Sorry, Wanda. I'm here."

She hums softly on the other side of the line, sounding amused.

"So, why did you call me, sweetheart?"

The honey-sweet words trickle into your ears and you sigh, leaning back against the headboard and fidgeting restlessly with the edge of the duvet.

"Just missed you. Wanted to hear your voice," you respond quietly, hoping that the phone catches it.

Evidently, you're not entirely successful.

"Hmm? Say that again, baby?"

You slump down against the pillow, sliding underneath the covers and turning to the side. The phone finds its way between your hands, still on speaker, and you cradle it closer to your face, staring unblinking at the caller ID screen as you repeat yourself.

Wanda chuckles softly, and the phone slides out of your loose grasp. You melt into the mattress before reaching out to readjust the phone until it's in place again.

"I missed you too, detka. What have you been up to today?"

You hum softly, squeezing a second pillow between your arms as you think over your response.

"Not much. I went out and bought groceries. Nothing special. Everything feels so stale without you here," you lament.

A soft huff of breath crackles through the speakers.

"I'll be back soon, detka. I'm only here for one more day, I promise."

You sigh and turn onto your back again, hugging the pillow tighter.

"I just miss you so much."

"I know, sweetheart, I know."

The soft warmth spreading in your chest is all-too-eager to branch as far as it can go, and a low ache settles at the bottom of your stomach. Wanda's voice has always been a weak spot for you, and even through crackling phone speakers that hasn't changed.

"Miss you in all the ways," you murmur, suddenly overwhelmed by the intensity of your need.

Wanda coos softly, but doesn't say anything further. As her raspy voice echoes through the speaker, tears spring to your eyes. It hurts to miss someone this much. You've never had much issue with Wanda leaving before. It's not like you don't understand that she's busy.

But for some reason, this time has felt different from all the others. Your everyday life feels emptier, hollow, surreal. Without Wanda to anchor you down, you feel like you're a phantom, coasting on muscle memory to get through the day until you can get in bed and dream of green eyes.

"Wish you could just come home already," you whine, trying to tamp down your rising emotions.

"Detka," Wanda murmurs. "It's okay. I'm here. Stay with me, okay? Mommy's here."

You battle with your conflicting desires, desperation and desire coursing through your veins in equal measure. You flip back onto your side again, clutching the phone like a lifeline, thumbs pressed into the screen as if that will somehow bring you closer to Wanda.

"Mommy," you whisper back, taking solace in the title as your breathing evens out again.

"Yes, sweetheart. I'm here," Wanda reassures.

Lust roars to life suddenly and you squeeze your thighs together, mind blank as Wanda's soft voice washes over you.

"Mommy," you whisper again, heavier this time, weighted down by desire.

"My baby," she murmurs in response, low and firm.

"Need you. Please." You've been reduced to short phrases already, finally letting your mind take a backseat and just letting yourself feel.

"What do you need from mommy, detka?"

"Want mommy, please. Want to hear— want…" you can't find the right words, overwhelmed by just how much you need Wanda in this moment. You just need her, need to anchor yourself.

Luckily, Wanda understands what you're asking for all too well.

"You want mommy to tell you what to do? Is that it, detka?"

You nod limply, before realizing Wanda can't see you.

"Mhmm," you hum into the screen instead, fingers still digging into the phone case as you pull it even closer.

"How badly do you need it, sweetheart?"

Wanda's voice is teasing, and you can hear shuffling on the other side of the line then the click of a door locking.

"Need you so bad, please mommy." The words tumble out in a rushed mess, but at this point you can hardly bear to think of this phone call ending in anything other than an orgasm.

Wanda chuckles again.

"You're so lovely for me, detka. So needy. So sweet. You know what mommy would do to you if she could be there with you?"

You shiver, pillow long-forgotten as you clutch the phone between your fingers.

"I would take it so slow, sweetheart. Draw it out a little bit, just tug down the top of your shirt and play with your pretty little nipples until you're squirming and crying."

Wanda sounds delighted; you can hear the smile in her voice as she describes how she would touch you.

"Just softly at first, only the best for my baby. I'd use my mouth and tongue, and then when you're squirming for more, mommy would use her fingers to pinch and squeeze and roll. The way you like it, baby," she hums, and you shiver again.

"Can you do that for mommy, sweetheart? Can you pinch your pretty nipples for her?"

You whine high in your throat, listening to the way Wanda laughs softly through the phone.

"Mommy," you whimper, tugging your tank top down and setting down the phone next to your head. You know exactly what Wanda means, and you pinch and squeeze, rolling your own nipples roughly between the pads of your fingers, the way you know Wanda always does, the way you like it.

"Oh god, mommy—" the moan gets caught in the back of your throat, coming out choked as bolts of white-hot electricity course up your spine.

"You're doing so good for me, detka," she coos, and you sob desperately, already overwhelmed.

"Just keep it up for me, sweetheart. I want to hear you cry."

You acquiesce obediently, squeezing your nipples until they're swelling, reddened by the abuse, until you can feel tears welling up and spilling over. Wanda keeps whispering soft encouragements through the speaker even as you pant and moan, broken only by soft sobbing and crying.

It never surprised you, but you're sure anyone else in the neighborhood who knows Wanda would be startled to discover her sadistic streak. She's always liked seeing you cry, and it only helps that you like it when she makes you hurt—when she tears you apart and builds you back up again.

"Mommy," you whimper again, a broken noise that makes Wanda moan softly on the other end of the line.

"Oh, detka, you sound so pretty," she coos, enjoyment sparkling in her voice.

"Please," you beg, shivering and shaking with every new jolt of sensation.

"Mmh, good girl," she murmurs. "You can stop now, just for a little bit."

You moan with relief as you're finally given permission to pull your hands away from your chest.

"And then mommy would touch you lower, wouldn't she? You know how mommy likes you, baby. Legs tucked up against your chest so you're nice and open for mommy. Go ahead, sweetheart, why don't you start now, hm?"

You pant softly as your pull your own legs up and apart, kicking off the duvet and whimpering when cold air meets your sticky cunt.

"Mommy would start slow, just keep you spread open with her fingers, and just watch. Wait until you're squirming and wiggling before she touches you. Just keep yourself open, baby, you can listen to how mommy wants to touch you first. No touching yet."

You hum and abide by her rules, reaching down only to spread yourself even further apart, shivering as you imagine Wanda's lazer-sharp gaze on your spread cunt.

"And then mommy would touch you so softly, just gently rub with her fingers where you're nice and open for mommy. Never inside, just right outside, where your pretty cunt opens up for mommy."

You shiver as you imagine the sensation, all-too-familiar with how it feels.

"Do you think you could ever come like that, baby? With mommy's mouth on your nipples and her fingers rubbing your cunt just like that?"

Wanda moans softly at her own words, and you whimper loudly into the speaker. It sounds torturous and delicious all in the same.

"Hmm, maybe once mommy gets home," she murmurs. "How's my detka feeling now, hm? Are you being a good girl? You're not touching yourself, are you?"

Her words are edged with danger.

"No, mommy. I'm being good. Not touching myself. Keeping myself spread open with my fingers, just like mommy would," you profess earnestly.

Wanda hums thoughtfully.

"You wouldn't lie to me, would you baby?"

"Promise I'm being honest, mommy."

Wanda coos softly, reassured.

"Good girl, detka."

You moan softly in the back of your throat. Without realizing it, you've started rocking your hips against the empty air, searching for more stimulation.

"Now where were we? Ah, right, mommy would rub your pretty cunt until you're crying again, and then keep rubbing. Just until she's satisfied. You'd have to be a good girl and beg for more. Beg for mommy's fingers."

"Please," you moan. "Please, mommy, please." Mindless even though you haven't even begun to touch yourself.

"You can touch yourself now, baby," she coos gently. "Just like mommy said, okay? Don't go inside just yet. Just outside. Nice and soft."

You agree quietly, letting go of where you're stretching yourself open to reach down further. You take your index and middle fingers and begin to rub in careful circles, moaning at the touch.

You've heard about this before, know just how many nerve endings exist in just this region, and it feels like you're on fire. Desperation seizes you. You want more. You want so badly to feel full, to come already, but Wanda hasn't given you permission to do anything beyond this, and you're nothing if not a good girl for her.

"Good girl," Wanda hums, and then continues to describe more, dropping her voice torturously low as she paints new visuals through the speaker.

"And then mommy would press inside, so so slow, bit by bit until you're all filled up. But as soon as mommy's inside, she'd pull right back out, all the way. Rub your pretty little clit with those same fingers until you're crying again, so close, and then stop. Once you're calmed down, mommy would do it again, and again, and again. Over and over."

"Mommy," you sob desperately. "Mommy, please."

Wanda hums softly, but doesn't acknowledge your pleas.

"You don't have to do it so many times tonight, baby. Just a couple. Just so mommy can hear you cry again. And then mommy wants you to go get your vibrator. Mommy will make you come like that, okay?"

You shiver and gasp as you continue to work yourself up.

"Yes, mommy. Please, mommy."

Wanda seems to be feeling merciful tonight, because she doesn't wait very long.

"You can go in now, detka. Just like mommy said, okay? Nice and slow."

You nod eagerly, forgetting Wanda can't see you, and begin to nudge your fingers inside, torturously slow, exactly the way Wanda has so many dozens of times in the past.

The stretch burns, just a little bit, even with how slick you are, and you moan into the speaker. It takes nearly a full minute just to seat your fingers in completely, and you sigh as you clench down, finally feeling full.

"Pull out, baby," Wanda orders firmly.

You whine, crying out in disappointment, but you don't disobey.

"Mommy," you beg, even as you pull back out completely, leaving your cunt empty and needy again.

"No, baby. Not yet. Be good for mommy. Now you have to rub your pretty little clit. Soft. Gentle. Mommy wants you to edge yourself three times, okay? She can count for you, baby." Wanda's breathing sounds labored on the other side of the line, and you briefly have time to think about whether or not she's touching herself, too.

Then your fingers are on your clit and your thoughts wash away again.

You rub just as she instructed. Slowly, gently, cautiously. Just enough to slowly build you up to an orgasm. Never enough to tip you over. Desire throbs low and slow in your stomach, but Wanda's low voice keeps your orgasm at bay. Slower. Lighter. Hold it.

Soon enough, her voice is all you can think about. It replaces the voice in your own head, guiding every movement of every part of your body. No coming. Never coming. Just rubbing, slowly.

When you whimper a little too loud into the speaker, Wanda makes you stop. Pulling your hand away feels like hell, but you do it anyway. When your breathing settles to an acceptable degree—Wanda makes you hold the phone up to your mouth until you stop panting—she has you start again.

Slow and steady. Stretching yourself open with two fingers until you're spreading around your knuckles, and then out and away. And then once again, rubbing your clit until you can feel just how empty you are, clenching down around nothing. The tears well up this time, and Wanda coos softly when you hiccup soft sobs into the phone.

She still makes you stop.

"That's two, detka. Just one more. One more. You can do it, can't you?"

You nod limply, fingers seated deep inside your cunt. It feels glorious, to be full just for this one moment, walls fluttering around something until Wanda orders you to pull them back out, and then you're hollow again, incomplete.

This time, she has you rub even longer, twice as long as you had to before. She makes you pause whenever your breathing speeds to much, or you moan too loud. She tells you to keep your fingers on your clit no matter what, even if you're paused, just to feel the way it throbs underneath your fingertips.

When it does, she asks you to count each pulse out loud, to tell her exactly how much you need her, how much you need more.

"Okay, baby, you can stop now," she orders, after making you count for the fifth time.

"Get your vibrator, sweetheart. Press it in as far as it will go, okay?"

You reach over to the bedside table, fumbling with the drawer until you find the small vibe, sucking on the tip for only a moment before you're eagerly cramming it into your cunt. It feels heavenly, to finally have something inside again, and you moan softly.

"Good girl," Wanda coos from the phone, and you feel the way the vibrator comes to life.

It's slow, probably at the lowest setting, but you're still grateful for the way the vibrations pulse outward, rippling through your nerves deliciously.

"Oh, sweetheart," Wanda murmurs. "You've been so good for mommy today. So sweet. So obedient. Do you want to come?"

You whine eagerly, half-sentences forming in your throat.

"Please, mommy, please. Want. Wanna come. Please."

Wanda chuckles softly, and the vibrator jacks up to the highest setting. You sob gratefully into the phone, your entire body shivering as pleasure finally floods into you.

"Whenever you want, detka," she hums.

The orgasm is aggressive, fast, overpowering. It crashes through your entire body, your toes curling and back arching as all the tension you've built up for the past hour is finally released.

But even after you've come down, panting loudly into the speaker, Wanda doesn't stop the vibrator. She lets it run, still thrumming harshly deep inside of you, until you're tipped over into a second orgasm. The second orgasm is just a tinge of painful, but that ache quickly bleeds into euphoria again.

When she still doesn't stop, you begin to beg, pleading incoherently with Wanda to turn down the vibrator, to stop completely.

Wanda gives no indication at all that she's heard you.

The third orgasm is an all-consuming heatwave, burning through every raw nerve ending as your entire body is left twitching in the aftermath. The fourth and fifth completely remove all sense of coherency and reality from you. Even still, the vibrator keeps buzzing away, tucked deep in your cunt. Wanda murmurs the whole way through, reassurances sweet in her mouth.

She still doesn't stop, though, even when you've lost your voice from how much you've moaned and cried through each orgasm.

You don't even know how many times you actually come. At least 7 times, you think. When she finally turns the vibrator off, you're a complete mess, drenched in sweat and tears, your thighs coated in sticky arousal and come.

"You're okay, detka," she murmurs through the phone.

"You've been so lovely for me. Can you do just one more, baby? Just one more? Mommy wants to hear another one, pretty please?"

You whimper hoarsely, already overstimulated beyond belief, but it doesn't even matter, because the vibrator is buzzing to life yet again.

"Just one more, sweetheart. You can do it. Mommy knows you can. You're so good for me."

You manage to choke out a moan as pleasure builds in your gut yet again, aching and burning. It hurts, but it also feels euphoric.

"Be a darling and rub your clit for mommy, okay? Nice and hard, baby."

You cry out when you do, fingers pressed into your clit as you nudge along another orgasm. It's all too much, but Wanda only turns the vibrator higher. All of a sudden, the orgasm crashes through you, and you shudder one last time, squeezing down on the pulsing vibrator inside you.

You cry out unintelligibly, and Wanda turns the vibrator down, letting you ride out your final orgasm before shutting it off.

"Such a good girl for me, detka," she coos softly. "You're so lovely for me, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you."

You hum into the phone, listening to the way it crackles with sound. You have half a mind to pull the vibrator back out and you leave it on the nightstand, but your uncooperative legs won't let you stand, let alone walk to the bathroom to clean up.

"It's okay, baby. You can go to sleep now. Mommy will be back in no time, okay?"

"Love you, Wanda," you murmur, eyelids already drooping with exhaustion.

As you drift off, vision swimming and blurring, you hear Wanda's honeyed voice come through the speakers again.

"Love you too, detka."

Slipping away into dreamland, you're met with the same dream as you have been for days now. When you're met with green eyes and red hair this time, you no longer feel so hollow—instead, warmth floods through you. The world around the two of you takes shape, changes colors, blissful and bright.

Wanda's eyes sparkle as she laughs at you, tugging you along to nowhere in particular, and you find yourself smiling—genuine and full.

[three-realms-archive]

Biggest Crush

Summary/Details: MC sees someone on TV that they haven’t seen in a while, and the brothers react accordingly. Fluffy and light, all brothers included!

You didn’t mind being squished in between Mammon and Beelzebub on the sofa for the weekly movie night. The former took the opportunity to not-so-subtly snuggle into your side, whilst the latter held a comically-large bowl of popcorn; eighty-percent of which was probably for himself. The movie you watched was some old film that the brothers’ apparently had some nostalgia for, but could only be found on DevilTube. Inevitably, this meant an advertisement would play every so often; and your eyes lit up as a familiar demon flashed up on screen.

“Woah, it’s Darkfang! Yo…” you said, tossing some of Beel’s popcorn into your mouth. The sixth-born simply smiled, content at seeing your cheeks so adorably full, as you continued. “He was the first Devildom idol I ever got into!”

A few noises and hums of acknowledgement came from the brothers. On the TV screen, Darkfang flashed a handsome, cocky smile, winking at the viewer as he showed off what you assumed to be a new fashion line. You feel a wave of nostalgia wash over you.

“Y’know,” you began, voice slightly muffled as you chewed, “I had, like, the biggest crush on him back when I first got here.”

Silence, this time.

Lucifer tensed up. Leviathan peered up from his D.D.D for the first time that evening, with an imperceptible yelp. Satan balled his fists in his lap to stay composed. Asmo bit his lip. Beel stopped eating. Belphegor’s tail thrashed against the carpet.

Mammon’s grip on you was getting a little tight.

“Hey, Mam’. You mind squeezing a bit lighter?” You say nonchalantly, eyes focused completely on the movie, which had started up again after the advert had finished.

Little did you know, no one was paying attention to the movie anymore.

Instead, each brother replayed the advert in their mind; determined to one-up their new competition.

_

Later that week, something strange happened around the House of Lamentation.

Well. Strange things always happened… but this was different.

Suddenly, everyone was into idols. You caught Asmo and Levi studying idol performances more intensely than you had ever seen them study for an exam. Beel had even joined them for dancing practice each morning - complete with synchronised singing and chanting. You could hear the commotion from your room, and it now served as your alarm.

You figured this fascination with idol culture was what got Satan, Belphegor and Mammon in the music room every day after school. They didn’t know you knew, but it was pretty hard to miss when Mammon’s cries of ‘we sound so much better than that idiot!’ rang throughout the halls, accompanied by the rather-hideous combination of sounds from an electric guitar, a classical piano, and a cowbell.

Then, there was Lucifer. You tiptoed quietly into his study one evening, intending to remind him to get some rest. Instead, you found Lucifer sound asleep, his head on his desk… and a poster of Darkfang nestled under his cheek. Beside it were notes - meticulous, handwritten notes - with various facts you recognised about Darkfang’s height, weight, workout routine, diet… even his favourite pie flavour?

“Oh my Diavolo… I never guessed they’d all become Darkfang fans!” You whisper excitedly, blissfully ignorant to the brothers’ true motives. “I’ll start watching him on TV more often.”

(i’m probs gonna start doing more comedy amongst the angst storm lol. a lot of family friends way younger than me recently got into kpop, and i started watching and looking back at old idols i liked - especially vocaloid and kpop idols that gained popularity around the bts wings era. feel free to share any idols you guys liked as a kid/teen!)

[saphig-iawn]

Repro

Her third monitor flashed with an alert, a new support ticket had been submitted.

In most positions where support tickets are involved, there would be a groan that would accompany this kind of interruption to one's day. One's mind would fill with the usual rigmarole of the same tired remedies that are often the solution: "Is your VPN turned on?", "have you cleared the cache?", "have you checked the cables?", "is it in your junk folder?", "have you turned it off and on again?".

But her role was different.

Such a ticket didn't send her slouching into her chair. It didn't send her to taking another sip of her energy drink. It gave her a massive grin with excited eyes. She stood up and squeezed out of the nook she had built herself in her office. Padding barefoot to the bedroom she swung open her wardrobe. What mood am I in today... she pondered, as she danced her fingers across the different outfits hanging all in a line. She ran her finger down a latex dress. She felt her cheeks flush. It was a simple number, a tulip skirt with slight height to the shoulders. She loved how it felt on her, how it elevated her almost. Her smile weakened and her cheeks dulled when she saw the time. A lot of prep for a simple ticket, she lamented. But then her fingers found the shiny spandex, the black fabric shone in the warm light of the standing lamp.

The body suit hugged tightly. She honestly felt she might leave it on, it was so comfy. She made her way to her dressing table for a few simple adjustments and additions. The first was long plaited pony tail to tame her dark auburn hair. The next was her lips. A red would work well, but then... ah yes, there's my green, she thought, relieved. She painted her lips, paying deliberate attention to the shape of the lips she wanted to portray. Lips no one would be able to their eyes off of. Then the final addition: the face visor.

It was spotless and sleek. The dark reflective glass covered her face, save for her lips and jaw. She arranged her plait so it ran over her chest, accentuating the reflections of the spandex.

She did chuckle about her lack of footwear as she padded back to her 'office', but with the nature of the ticket she received, it wouldn't matter too much.

The user was reporting abnormalities in operation. Seemingly at random things would slow down, especially if a webpage had a lot of gifs. In bad cases, it would hang or freeze. The fix is incredibly simple.

She sat in her chair, adjusted herself, and connected with the user.

...

The chime of a connecting call perks you up. It was surprise more than anything that made you jolt a little. You didn't expect that the Admin would get to your ticket so quickly, but here she is.

You feel the guilt of taking up someone's time line your stomach. You try to convince yourself that its all fine, the option to contact Admin wouldn't be there otherwise, and that there wouldn't be someone on hand if it wasn't something you were supposed to-

The video call connects.

"Hello darling, what seems to be the problem?"

The guilt and anxiety melts. The messy scribbles of thoughts in your head untangle and calm. With an unprecedented clarity, you explain what has been happening.

"Thank you darling, that is incredibly helpful"

You glow and feel... is that blushing?

"Now, would you be a doll and see if you could reproduce things for me?"

You agree, cheeks burning a touch, and offer to share your screen so she could see, but she declines. The confusion surrounding her decision is forgotten a moment later.

You go to the site you usually go to when you want stimulation but either nothing is grabbing your attention or too many things are. You scroll and scroll and scroll, but everything seems fine. You furrow your brow, and explain to Admin.

"Ok, that's no problem darling, why don't you do everything you were doing when things slowed down last."

You close the site, and open up your work program, open up emails, and then you open the site again. It took only moments before everything began to slow.

...

She smiled.

It was a warm smile.

It spread her emerald lips effortlessly beneath the bottom of her visor.

This was the joy of a productivity program. Each one was tailored to each drone. Some wanted a firm carrot and stick approach, others preferred gamification of their work. This is one was unique.

Her visor hid the way her eyes drank in every moment of the drone slowing down. It starts in the neck first. Its like it has disengaged. The head sits lower. Then it spreads to the eyes. First they unfocus, seemingly staring through the screen, and then the eyelids begin to flutter and semi close. The second cutest part soon follows which is the bottom lip growing so heavy that mouth begins to hang open. The main cutest part is how the drone begins to mumble the mantra "Good drones stay on task.".

Her smile softened.

The fact that her drone came to her with a support ticket meant that the unique element of her productivity programming was kicking in.

That the drone had no idea it was a program. A program they had wanted.

This little ticket, was simply a sign it was working. This was why she'd get dressed up, why she'd relish in the moment. It meant she had a little time with her drone to tend to her. To run little checks. There was a bittersweetness to it, that the drone might never know how much care was being put into it, but right then, in that moment, Admin was happy.

She brought the drone's attention to her visor, and she pressed a little button on a controller that made two green lights flash. The drone's sentence truncated in the air. Its posture straightened out as all emotion tucked itself away in compressed folders.

It was time for maintenance.

Simple pleasures like mobility tests, having the drone stand and sit, position its arms and hands, its face and head. It was like playing with a doll, seeing how all the articulation worked. The drone, prior to its conversion and programming, even set out little phrases to use as vocal tests. Some were what you'd expect, following the norm of such a kink. Others were silly, fun, a little embarrassing. The kind of things that would have the drone blushing after being awoken and not quite knowing why.

More advanced tests were always fun to run through. Memory tests like forgetting simple things like numbers or letters and having the drone respond with outputs that would use the 'forgotten' data. Restricting use of specific faculties, like sealing its lips shut and having it attempt to speak, or locking its arms in place and have it attempt simple object manipulation.

She savoured every moment of this time that would soon be squirrelled away. Its address in the memory of the drone erased, waiting to be reassigned when it wanted it.

...

You blink rapidly, like you had woken from a quick but all encompassing daydream. You apologised to Admin, and asked her to repeat what she said.

"Oh that's ok darling, tech talk can be boring. It seemed it was another cache issue, too much bloat being stored and slowing things down. Should all be working normally now."

The urge to check was surpressed immediately without any concern.

You could feel the heat of your cheeks. You didn't know why but you felt so glad you got to chat with Admin for a brief spell.

You thank Admin for her time, even compliment her outfit, you always liked that kind of look.

...

Her smile lingered after the call had ended. She knew it wouldn't be long before her drone would return with issues again, but that was ok. It was a good drone, and she always loved to tend to her good drones.

This was released on my Patreon a week ago! If you want to support me and read these fictions early then head over to my Patreon (patreon.com/MissSaphi)

[gguk-n]

Chapter 4- Heartbreak and Understanding

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen X Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N decides to forgive Max. Max wins his home race. She meets Max's girlfriend who doesn't seem to like her very much. Did I tell you Y/N watched Max win his home race?

{Reader's POV}

Falling in love with your friend is a bad idea. Falling in love with your internet friend who has a girlfriend was an even worse idea. Falling in love with Max Emilian Verstappen was the worst idea. He's all over my screen after I searched him on every social media ever. I cannot escape him when I'm trying to get over him.

It's been a few months since the either of us have spoken to each other. After I asked for time, Max respected my wishes. After our call, I received a message from him saying that he would always be there for me no matter what and that he would like to clear up the misunderstanding one day. I knew I would talk to him, however I hoped that it would be when I was over him. Doesn't look like that's about to happen any time soon since this man is everywhere and anywhere I look.

Summer break was here, so I was having a girl's night with my friend Riley when I decided to ask for her opinion on this whole debacle. "Sooooo, Riley" I began. "You're about to unload some shit you did aren't you. Who fucked you up?" she interrupted me. "What?" I questioned. "I've known you for 6 years, I know you too well. Tell me who do I have to beat up." she said. I began to laugh. "No one" I said in between laughter. I wiped a tear away from the side of my eye, "I haven't laughed like this in a while." I muttered. "Go on, love" Riley prodded. "Yeah, so I have this internet friend, we've been friends since 2013. He's nice, kind, funny, handsome, blonde, blue eyes" I was talking when she cut me off; "exactly your type" I nodded along. "It's all nice and all. I didn't know what he did for a living. I recently found out that he is famous" I mumbled. She looked at me shocked. "Who?" was all she said. "Max Verstappen, Formula One driver for Redbull Racing" I said. "Damn, I mean he's like cute for a white boy. I think he's cool and shit for driving in fast cars, I appreciate him as an athlete for sure; as my bestie's potential love interest, questionable at best" she replied. "why, I mean I didn't say I was interested in him?" I asked defensively. "Bro, he is literally exactly your type, I've seen the men you date or hook up with, on the other hand, he has a girlfriend" she pointed out. "Ok, I know and you scare me sometimes" I lamented. "so, my real question is, I didn't know he was Max Verstappen. I didn't know he had a girlfriend. I was hurt when I found out and stopped talking to him, had a confrontation and then I said I need time before I am ready" I explained. "Understandable" she nodded along. "what do I do?" I asked. "what do you want to do?" she questioned back.

I love Max and I would like to be a part of his life even if it meant only as friends because I cherished the time we've had together. Also, I feel like I didn't let him explain himself the last time we spoke. I want to mend our ways. I would love to have him forever, even if only as a friend. "I want to still have him in my life even if it meant only as friends." I said cautiously. "Then there's your answer." she pointed out. "Talk to him, clear stuff out. If his explanation seems legit then continue to be friends." she suggested. "great idea. Thanks Riley" I said. "Don't mention it. Now can we un-pause the movie." she asked. "yes" I said while un-pausing the movie.

A few days after the heart to heart with Riley I texted Max. I knew he was supposed to be back next weekend for the race and was currently at home. I kind of confirmed that by watching his streams where he did SimRacing. I don't think I'll be telling this to anyone, honestly. He was on stream when my text went through, I saw him check his phone and ask to leave the stream early since he needed to do something; that something being to call me because within seconds my phone was ringing with the familiar name cropping up on the screen. I answered the call, Max staring back at me, a tentative smile played on his lips. He waited for me to start talking.

Y/N- Hi Max. Max- Hi Y/N, how've been? Y/N- Good, you? Max- Yeah, OK. Y/N- I'm sorry for lashing out the last time we spoke. Max- No, no, don't be sorry. I was at fault for hiding such important information from you. Can you ever forgive me? Y/N- Depends... Max- What do I have to do to get you to forgive me? Y/N- Why didn't you tell me? About everything; your girlfriend, your career? Max- I...When we started talking I just enjoyed being a regular teenager, where we talked about school and random stuff. I got to be Max the teenager not Max the youngest Formula One driver. I enjoyed the disconnect I got with you. I got to be myself and forget about racing for a minute. You made me feel like a regular guy. Y/N- I wish you had told me because when I found out about your championships, I felt like I missed out on celebrating such a huge and momentous occasion with you. That hurt. Max- I'm sorry for that. I didn't know how to tell you since it had been so long, I did want to tell you, I really did want to share my happiness with you; I just didn't know how to. You made me feel normal. Y/N- I'm glad I could be of some help. Max- You were of so much help. You calmed me down before many races and reading your messages or hearing your voice was like a comfortable constant. Thank you. Y/N- Fine, I get it some times famous people want to live regular lives, what about your girlfriend. Why didn't you tell me about her? Max- I....am not really sure. We started dating 2 years ago, it just happened. We'd known each other for a while. It just happened. Y/n- Hmmm....doesn't she mind that we talk so much? Max- No, she's chill about it. (He laughed awkwardly) Y/N- I hope we won't have anymore lies between us Max- No not at all. I cherish our friendship too much Y/N- me too. Max- This weekend is my home race. Y/N- I saw Max- You did? Y/N- I might like watching my best friend win... Max- That's great, then you can watch me win in person next week. Y/N- Sweetheart, Maxie, You might be a millionaire; your friend here is broke as fuck. I can't fly out so suddenly. Max- You don't have to worry about anything. I'll get you the tickets and stuff. Just say yes. Y/N- I mean, I would love to meet you in person.... Max- Then, that's final. You're coming to the Dutch GP next week. I'll pick you up at the airport. You should come early and leave a little later. I'll show you around. Max looked and sounded excited. Y/N- Ok (I couldn't help but laugh at his excitement)

As soon as I ended the call, I got plane tickets to the race. He said he would come pick me. I couldn't wait to meet him. I'm sure nothing bad will happen; from meeting my long time friend.

I thought maybe I should show Max some support and buy his merchandise or something; no one told me it was this expensive. I decided against it. The race was on the 27th; I was flying in on the 24th. The flight there was nerve wrecking. I've seen him although not in person. I got a text from Max telling me to go to a certain gate in the parking area where he would be waiting. I found him rather quickly; he had his hand sticking out of the car. I tapped on the window with a big smile plastered on my face. "Hi Maxie!" I greeted. "hey, schat. Get in, I don't wanna get caught." he said pointed at the door. "By who?" I quizzed. "I feel like you forgot what I did for a living and where we were." he chided. I laughed before walking to the opposite side and getting in.

Initially, things felt a little awkward but the atmosphere turned friendly quite quickly. We reached the hotel I would be staying at; Max had planned the entire week of my stay out. I was going to just rest today while Max attended to media stuff and then we would have dinner together tonight. He would take me along to the paddock for all the 3 days. And after the race weekend, he would take me to all his favourite place; my personal tour guide.

I crashed for the day after a shower and having food. I only woke up when Max called me to let him in. It took me a while to realise where I was. I apologised for not being ready to leave when that was the plan initially. Max didn't mind and offered to wait till I got dressed. He told me we were going somewhere fancy so I pulled out my black satin dress I kept for special occasions. This was a special occasion, right, I thought. Max was a lot more patient compared to all my exes who would start getting antsy; he even helped me decide on the jewellery and shoes I should pair with my outfit. Why are all the good men taken, God?

We had authentic dutch food in a fancy restaurant as a three course meal. I loved the Apple tart. I almost moaned as I placed a spoon of it in my mouth; "Max, this is so good" I groaned. Max smiled, "I'm happy you like it." "I love desserts Max, but this is almost up there with my favourites" I said with a mouth full of apple tart. "What are your favourites?" Max asked. "I love tres leches, tiramisu and cheese cakes" I mumbled. After finishing the food, we decided to walk around for a while; it was kind of dark and Max would probably not get recognised was the thought. "Thanks for the food. Maximilian" I said. He just nodded along. "It's an atrocious name Maxie, no offence but Emilian as a middle name; who ever named you, hates you" I said shaking my head. Max laughed it off; "I would've thought you were fucking with me, if you told me that was your middle name" I said patting his back. "I'm sorry" he said. "Don't apologise for your name, you had no control" I said now facing him. "No, I mean I'm sorry for lying and hiding things from you. I never felt good doing that. I wish I had told you sooner. I wish you had found out about it through me." he said regretfully. "It's ok Max, the past is in the past. I hope we'll be more honest in this friendship" I said enveloping him in a hug for the first time. His head found it's way in the crook of my neck, a woody scent wafted into my nose while Max clutched on to my waist. I felt warm tears drip down my shoulder. "Max, are you crying?" I asked, trying to pull away. He tightened the grip on my waist and buried his head deeper, if it was possible, "No" he replied, making my skin on the shoulder vibrate. "It's ok Maxie, let it all out. I'm always there for you." I said patting his back to console him. "I thought I lost you, I thought you'd never speak to me again, I thought you hated me." he muttered softly. "I could never hate you, I might've been angry but I knew I didn't want to lose you either. You are a very important friend to me" I said. "I don't ever want to lose you" he said, finally deciding to look at me with his tear streaked face. I wiped away the tears. "Me neither, now let's go, you have a race tomorrow" I said pulling him along.

The conversation kept me up at night. It was giving me mixed signals. I didn't know what to make of it. He has a girlfriend, granted I haven't met her yet. There was desperation in Max's eyes and his words. They felt heavy and part of me wasn't sure what I was supposed to do with this. Was I thinking too much into it? What was Max's deal?

I got to meet Max's girlfriend the next day. She didn't seem too pleased with me; I mean I don't think anyone could welcome a random women your boyfriend said was his childhood friend suddenly. I didn't hold it against her. I got to meet Max's teammate and the other drivers. All of them were very kind and welcoming. I got to learn a lot about Max while I waited for him to get done with interviews after free practise. I was talking to Lando while he waited his turn after Max. Max returned which made Lando leave. "You didn't tell me you had such cute friends. I would've asked you you set me up with him sooner" I said while we walked back to Redbull. "No" he stated. "You're patronising with the enemy" he continued. "Your enemy, my future boyfriend." I joked. "He's not your type" Max interjected. "And you know what my type is?" I asked. Before he could say anything, his girlfriend whisked him away.

I ended up talking to Checo who was surprised to know me and Max had been friends for so long. Almost everyone in the garage was shocked about our friendship. Checo told me it's because Max had never told them about me. Max and his girlfriend came back who looked visibly annoyed; I tried asking Max what was up but he brushed me off. I spent the rest of the day being dragged around by Max who couldn't stop talking about anything and everything.

I spent Saturday with a lot of the mechanics and engineers who had so much good stuff to talk about. It would probably help me in editing that author. She was almost done with the book; but a few more additions won't hurt. Max qualified pole, he was so excited. He dropped me back at my room when I told him he should rest up before the race when he offered to watch a movie with me. He couldn't care less, he promised to win the race for me even with a little sleep. We ended up watching some movie. His girlfriend's annoyed face was etched in my brain through out the movie, so I decided to ask him about that. "Max, I'm sure your girlfriend minds you spending so much time with me" I suggested. "No, I told her I'm meeting you for the first time. She shouldn't care." he said. "I'm sure she does, she doesn't look very happy to me" I commented. "Don't think about it too much" Max said handing me the can of cold drink. I wasn't very satisfied, but there's only so much I could do.

The race was crazy, it got my heart beating really fast watching all of them zip past at such a high speed. Max did so well, he finished the race in P1 just like how he started it. Everyone rejoiced and headed to where Max was. GP took me with him. Max got out of the car and took his helmet off, his eyes were scanning the area. As soon as our eyes met he strode towards me. His girlfriend was a couple of steps away, before I knew it Max hugged me. "I won, just like I told you I would" he whispered. "Congratulations Max." I said while turning my head towards his girlfriend who looked visibly annoyed and quickly turned on her heels and left. "You shouldn't have done that" I told Max while pulling away. "Done what?" he questioned. "You should've gone to your girlfriend after winning your home race." I said. "She's here for so many of my races, you're not" he stated. I face palmed myself, "Doesn't matter Max, she probably hates me" I said. Max just shrugged his shoulders and went to get weighed.

After all the formality and interviews Max was on the top step of the podium. I was very proud of him and you could see it on my face. I couldn't find his girlfriend anywhere around. Max got down from the podium drenched in champagne trying to hug me while I pushed him away. "No, you'll get me all sticky" I shouted while running away from him.

[ Winning his home race felt special to Max because Y/N was watching. He walked right up to her the moment his eyes landed on her. He couldn't help but wrap himself around her. After the race, they were going out to celebrate his win because Y/N wanted to go out with the other drivers and so he agreed. After reaching his room to quickly shower and leave, he was met with his girlfriend who was sat on the edge of the bed. She didn't look happy and after a bit of back and forth; Max said it. The words that had been floating around in his head for a while now; he didn't know why he didn't say it sooner. He broke up with his girlfriend. He wasn't sad but rather relieved. He walked into the shower while his girlfriend packed everything up to leave]

[sepublic]

            Went to Weebcon 2025 and actually got to meet Dana Terrace and Zeno Robinson! Luckily I’d found out about Dana’s presence on her Insta near the end of the February, which gave me plenty of time to prepare. On the first day she was absent, and I found her schedule had been updated so she was only available for Saturday and Sunday; On her Twitter, she alluded to something unfortunate happening that day. Told a Knights of Guinevere cosplayer(!!!) about the change when they’d also showed up, so they hadn’t missed or done anything wrong.

            I checked the website for stuff to do, got blindsided by Zeno being there, and got to meet him; I got a signed Hunter and Flapjack print, and forgot to ask him if he knew about Dana’s presence, if he’d be at the Q&A. Then I went to a TOH cosplay meet-up and it was just me and an Amity I’d seen earlier, which tracked with us two being the only TOH cosplays I’d seen that day.

            Per my guess, it meant the line for Dana was minimal throughout the next two days, as was the crowd for the Q&A; A bit sad to see less fellow fans, I wonder if there are factors like TOH's popularity waning over time and/or the location. But I suppose a smaller crowd was kind of my hope, because it’d mean it’s far less of a hassle to do a signature and ask a question for the Q&A!

            (Also gotta get it off my chest; Aside from the surreality of seeing these people of a screen as IRL flesh-and-blood humans who were not pre-determined recordings, I found Dana to be shorter than I expected! I guess it’s because I consider myself relatively short, she’s decently older and far more experienced. And on a psychological level, I look up to her, so that makes Dana “bigger” in my mind, like an authority figure. I shouldn’t put people on a pedestal, I know, but it’s what happened. The real point of this observation was that I kept thinking of Anakin calling Grievous shorter than he expected lol.)

            I thought about what I was going to say, so I said it; When I was a depressed teen, I first saw the announcement of this show back in 2018, and something about it seemed appropriately magical. It lifted my spirits a bit, I had a good feeling about it, I decided to pay attention and invest my attention and hopes. And I could’ve never imagined how much it paid off!

            I also loved how each season of the show was about Eda, King, and Luz, in that order; Dana was pleased by the observation and said “You get it!” I even mentioned how she gave Luz Catholic Guilt without making her literally Catholic, and Dana laughed and repeated You get it. I shouldn’t let this get to my head, BUT…!!!! And when I got my picture, I made sure to take out the Bard sigil sticker as part of the cosplay, with Dana half-jokingly calling it an evil thing.

            I also got an Eda Funko Pop signed by her, since I’d always been meaning to grab it, so may as well take the chance now and not have a prior Eda get replaced and discarded! And since I was so early, I actually got to be one of four people to buy a personal drawing from Dana herself (I saw another one, who had a scrapbook of personal, signed drawings from other showrunners, such as Butch Hartman; Theirs was Lumity). I panicked because the option never occurred to me and now I had to choose, but I kept it nice and simple; Luz, Eda, and King.

            Dana gave me this little cardinal so she could draw other requests overnight at her hotel, and I could come back the next day to receive mine, with the bird as proof of purchase! I lamented the fate of Flapjack but also expressed appreciation for the decision, with Dana half-joking that she hadn’t done it to the poor birb. Came back the next day and saw someone else’s request on the table of Raeda, which leaves me curious about the fourth, if there was one… And I got this personal drawing with my name on it!!!

           And I got to keep my own little Flapjack!!! It really was Flapjack that weekend. I also mentioned how I loved the irony of Raine’s whole quest beginning because they couldn’t look the other way, only to have to look the other way when it came to Eda’s struggle for them, with Hunter’s loneliness (esp due to Terra over their shoulder), etc. And the irony of Raeda breaking up because Eda kept secrets, only for Raine to do the same after they’d reunited years later, keeping them from resuming; Dana, of course, agreed that the two were like one another.

            And yeah; I actually got to go to the Q&A on Saturday and ask Dana a question! More on that here… And as I guessed, of course Zeno showed up as a surprise guest halfway through. Of course! Never thought I’d be there in-person after seeng their Post-Hoots together. And when someone asked what cosplays Dana would love to see, she brought up Knights of Guinevere, and was delighted when someone else brought up that cosplayer, who I sadly didn’t get to see after that first day. On Sunday, there was a second TOH cosplay meetup, and this time people were there that I got to befriend and take pictures with!

            Receiving my drawing wasn't even the last time I saw Dana, funnily enough; In the hours after the final day had closed, I was passing through the lobby of the hotel next door (which was also used to host some events) and just happened to notice Dana with her friends, waved hi and she waved back! Realistically it's of course tempting to hang out with the creator of one of my favorite stories ever and bombard them with all sorts of questions, or just say all sorts of things (esp when there wasn't even a lot of people, sometimes no people, at times), but in the end that's another human being with boundaries, and I had to respect that.

            All in all; I’d say I’m quite chuffed not just from the TOH experience, but really just the fun of the event as a whole, and especially the build up to it! Working on my cosplay, it was a pretty magical experience, and I’m already looking back it fondly.

[irishmammonagenda]

Hello! I hope your requests are open 🧚‍♀️

Can i ask, what brothers' reaction would be on MC who sings something like MSI (you know smth like "son of a bitch! God's like me!") or just alternative rock/punk in general?

Answer only if you're okay with that❤️

Have a great day🏃‍♂️

hihi‼️(i love the amount of emojis u use i can feel ur personality through the screen teehee)

i absoluetley can‼️‼️ also tysm for the new music to listen to (im kind of new to alt rock and punk i only really used to listen to MCR lmao😭)

anyway this was fun to write

grma for the ask <3

Obey Me Brothers React to MC Being a Wee Emo.

DISCLAIMER: emo is used as a word because where im from emo is used to describe nearly any type of alternative fashion bc we're all dumb over here app, also im 2% sure pop punk/poprock is emo music bc i think thats what mcr is, so we're going w/ it ig, the only thing ik abt music is that bars 13-20 in the dambusters themetune has fanfare so if i get any terms wrong lmk 😔✊

WARNINGS: There's a slight slight hint of drinks being spiked in Beel's one. nothing ever happens its just him keeping an eye on your drink at a concert just in case.

LUCIFER

He hears music blasting in the music room in the House of Lamentation.

At first he just sighs, it sounds like the type of music Belphie would listen to when trying to plan out another Anti-Lucifer League. The teenage angst probably helped fuel the seventh born’s desire and motivation to prank him.

He sneaks into the Music room. Technically he just walked in quietly, but you still jumped when you saw him.

"L-Lucifer!! Hiya!!" You say awkwardly, not looking the first born in they eyes. "What's up?" He blinks slowly at you, fighting the urge to place a gloved hand on the bridge of his nose and pinch it in disappointment (and/or second hand embarrassment) "I'm not going to say anything. Just keep it down, MC." He sighs, normally he'd have lectured you. But it reminded him too much of a wolf-cut, guyliner filled past that for the sake of his pride, he did not want to remember.

He wasn't a stranger to musical genres, the man collects records for fuck's sake.

The drums and guitars he can normally get behind. Especially with catchy rhythms.

The lyrics?....they're normally a hit or miss. It really depends on the song.

'God likes me' (MSI) 'Hail Mary, Forgive Me' (PTV) Religious references just kind of ruin some songs for him.

Lucifer spends his time collecting cursed records, but your music taste is a special kind of cursed MC.

Although, he is strangely supportive in his own way.

"MC, Lord Diavolo has gifted me some tickets to concert [small devildom band] is putting on, I thought you would enjoy it."

(Lucifer bought the tickets himself.)

MAMMON

Haha, Emo!

"Yer a wee emo so ye are, MC"

It's not exactly his style of music (the man listens to Kneecap ffs)

BUT!!! He wants to share things with you dammit! Let him listen to your stupid emo music with you!!! He's your first man!!!

He does, however learn how to play guitar so he can play some simple chords while you sing horrible improvised lyrics with horrible improvised chords.

You don't have the heart to tell him that acoustic guitars aren't normally used in Punk/Rock music.

The sound of horribly improvised chord progressions ring out in your bedroom as you and your first man stand back to back, horrible matching messy eyeliner on both of yours and Mammon's eyes as you hold a hairbrush to your mouth and improvise lyrics. That is, if you can even get them out of your mouth before laughing. "Blood in my body! Because I'm aliveeee!!!" You sing off key while Mammon strums the guitar. "Love in my Bugatti! Because The Great Mammon can drive!" You laugh. Mammon whistles while missing out on the fingering of a chord and then pretending it didn't happen.

LEVIATHAN

The first thought in this man's mind is karaoke.

He sends you a playlist of Rocky kinda anime openings that you should totally listen to.

He's the least shocked and weirded out, (not that the others are weirded out)

He really likes your singing voice. It doesn't matter if you're a horrible singer, its you so it makes him happy.

You guys could do a duet? If it wasn't too much for you to sing with a stinky smelly otaku like him :(

"Levi-" You sigh, looking at the Levi shaped lump of seaweed in his aquiriam, the demon's tail twitches through the pile of aquatic plant, showing that he's listening. "Levi... Of course I'd love to do Karaoke with you...You didn't give me a chance to answer before jumping into the tank! C'mon!" It takes Levi a few more minutes before he feels ready to leave his seaweed pile, his face is completely red, but there's a small smile on his face as you set up the karaoke machine.

SATAN

Satan enjoys your music taste.

He likes most if not all human world music because music is so important to culture and he loves learning about human world culture.

What he doesn't like however, is people dropping his name in lyrics for edginess smh.

No MC, no one in Je T'aime is his bitch. Please stop asking.

He also takes you to gigs! Because why not!

The blond haired demon sat in the bar, earning a few looks from the people surrounding them. He stuck out like a sore thumb in his jumper and jeans and the book in his hands in comparision to black denim and leather, chains and sub-cultural clothes that everyone else was wearing. Satan payed it no mind as you came back with the drinks, all decked out in clothing matching the rest of the people in the venue in style. "Hope you weren't waiting long....the lines were long!" Satan takes a drink from your hand and sips it, giving a soft smile, "Not at all."

ASMODEUS

The music is a hit and miss tbh, he prefers the more pop punk kind of thing, leaning more into pop than anything else.

He likes paramore though!

Loves the clothes associated with the genres and subcultures of the music! Adopts some of it into his own style!

(He alters it heavily, but some designs are inspired by the subcultures)

He could be your adorable gorgeous boyfriend and you could be the wee emo gremlin partner!

The opposites attract will look so cute on his Devilgram.

But he geniunely supports you and your interests, he designs and makes clothes for you in the style associated with your music taste.

He even makes you merch of your favourite bands and albums inspired into clothes.

He also does your makeup before you go out to concerts or gigs

Your his emo after all.

You squirm as Asmo runs his fingers along your flushed skin, he laughs as you jerk away. "It's just a brush, it wont hurt you darling!" He laughs, putting more black eyeshadow onto the makeup brush and applying it---or atleast trying to---to your eyelids, biting back teasing comments as you jerk away. You were ticklish god dammit! It wasn't like you were meaning to! It was a natural reflex!

BEELZEBUB

He likes it.

but not because he enjoys the music persay. Don't get him wrong he can listen to it and enjoy it but he wouldn't normally seek it out.

He likes it because you and Belphie like it, and the style reminds him of the both of you.

In terms of rock music he likes the more slow ballady types. Belphie normally listens to them when he has trouble falling asleep.

Very supportive.

If you're ever in the Mosh Pit in a concert, Beel will go with you, you're just so tiny and people can push you about! (You're tiny to him. So yes MC, his point still stands.)

Taking that back, if you're at a concert, Beel's probably with you. Unless you're with another brother, Even then, Beel's probably going to come.

Bro is like your own bodyguard.

Reports to Lucifer when at concerts and makes sure you're not taking any illegal substances, you don't know what's in them MC!

He makes sure nothing is put in your drink either.

He just wants to keep you safe :(

Beel had been staring at the cup in your hands back and forth for a while now, you smile and offer it up to him. "Want a sip, Beelie? You've been staring at my drink a lot" You practically shout over the music. You weren't in the mosh pit, and though you stood a good distance away, the music was still loud. Beel shakes his head, pointing to his pint and smiling his closed eye smile, "No thanks, MC. I'm just making sure you're staying hydrated and don't need refills." He says truthfully, though that truth isn't whole. You grin, "Aww...that's so sweet!" Turning your attention away from him and back to the stage, Beel wraps an arm around your waist. Eyes alert and wary when someone so much as walked past, or a crowd member got a little too close while dancing. He was overprotective and cautious. But you deserved to be safe.

BELPHEGOR

Give him back his albums what the actual fuck.

Look just because he takes your life it doesn't mean you get to take his music taste.

Wowwww. Petty.

Fine, you can borrow his limited edition special cut vinyls.

What? Lucifer's not the only one with a record collection.

He did not get this idea from Lucifer, No you Liar.

He did.

Belphie listens to rock ballads to get to sleep when he has trouble sleeping and when he wants to.

Sometimes when you nap together he puts some on.

It's kind of like a white noise machine.

Will go to concerts with you and Beel, but has to have slept for atleast 2 whole days leading up to it so people don't think he's passed out in the crowd.

Mention any similarites about his little music vinyl collections to Lucifer's cursed record selections he will not let you borrow any for atleast 3 days.

Long before Eve bit the apple and the brother's wings turnt black, a small boy with indigo hair wakes up from a nap, pouty lips wobbling when he realises his twin is nowhere to be found. Belphie sniffles, but doesn't break into tears. He's a big boy now! Big boys don't cry when they miss their twins! Beel was probably out on a walk with Michael and Lilith in her stroller! He'd come back! But still, Belphie's bottom lip trembled, eyes watering, the little boy didn't like being seperated from his twin! He was about to cry when he heard loud music coming from a room down the hall. More curious than anything, Belphie gets off of his bed, and (taking his teddy bear with him) walks down the hall following the sound. Though his walk was more of a waddle with his tiny legs. He'd never heard anything like it before! When Beel got back he could tell him about his discovery! Soon enough he reaches a slightly cracked open door and the music is super loud here. This must be it! Waddling into the room, Belphie could see a figure laying spread eagle on one of the beds. Half of the room decorated in colour with one bed and the half of the room with the person laying on the bed was almost completely in black with a bunch of posters on the walls. Most importantly, on the floor lay a box with a spinny thing spinning that seemed to be playing the sounds! Belphie held his teddy in one hand and lifted up the thing that was running across the big black circle. Immediately the sound stopped and the figure sat up, with layered dark shoulder length hair, layered dark black white and red clothes, and enough eyeliner to paint the colourful bright half of the room pitch black. A teen Lucifer looks down at Belphie with a sour expression, upset his mope session had been interrupted. "What are you doing here?" He asks the small indigo-haired angel. Belphie looks up at him with wide, sparkling eyes before pointing to the record player. "Why's it makin' sound? There's no choir in there...." Lucifer's eyes soften. His mope session about meeting the demon prince, not hating him, and finding him pretty like the human he met down in the human world could wait. "It's a record player, Belphs." The teenager's too emo, the end is nigh, everything sucks, too cool for love and affection persona drops and reveals his softie interior. Lucifer picks up his younger brother and places him on his bed as he takes out the record that was playing in the record player and putting on one that would be much less intimidating for someone as young as Belphie. He sits back onto the bed and the small boy cuddles up to his big brother, ever the affectionate child. As the record plays on Belphie grins up at Lucifer, revealling one missing front tooth. He had lost them early, shortly after Beel's tooth had fallen out. Lucifer grinned too, suppressing a chuckle at how Beel hadn't even realised his tooth was wobbly until he bit into his breakfast and found his tooth lodged into the food. "Luci! I likes this music!" "Do you?" "Mhm!" Lucifer grins, petting his youngest brother's head. "I'll tell you what. For your birthday I'll get you your very own record player and lend you some vinyls, we can even go to the human world and pick some new ones out. I'll show you how to play them when you have them, okay?" "Okay! Thank you Luci!" After a while, the songs change from high energy into ballads, Belphie's eyes grow heavier, as do his big brother's. Belphie curled up into the elder's side, abandoning his teddy bear for grabbing at the fabric of Lucifer's shirt with tiny grubby hands as he nodded off. Lucifer made sure to try not to move, in result of the slow rock ballad music and staying completely still so not to jostle and wake up his youngest brother who would 100% get cranky if woken. Slowly, Lucifer's eyes start to close, and he falls into a soft slumber as well.

And hey, if Michael returned from his walk, and after leaving Beel and Lilith into a play room went to check in on Lucifer and saw that sight; and then proceeded to grin and take multiple photos of said sight from multiple angles to use as blackmail on his little emo twin brother Lucikins on a later occassion, then that was Michael’s business and Michael’s business alone. And Lucifer's business when Michael didn't want to do the dishes when it was his night to do them, of course.

But if you ask, Belphie'll tell you that visiting the human world is what got him interested in that type of music.

Because he's a stinky smelly little liar and should be locked up in an attic.

On a side note he bullies you for being 'emo' :(

Bro is such a hypocrite.

But to be geniune, Belphie loves that he can share his music with you. He's happy you can bond over this with him.

Not that he'd ever outright tell you.

But you can tell in the way he gives you albums and vinyls as gifts, and makes you little playlists of ballads to sleep to. (He's gotten you into the habit smh.)

[pennyplainknits]

More Joy Day: some vids I love

I meant to do something more substantial for More Joy Day, I even recorded a podfic, but I was really unhappy with it. I didn't want to let the day go without marking it, so below are some vids that bring me joy. I hope they bring you joy too, and that you'll spread that by leaving a comment for the vidders as well! Where I have it I've added a link to tumblr or AO3 to make that easy

Freedom Ride by Sally Sparrow

This is such a gleefully fun look at how everyone wants a piece of Steve Rogers, set to a song that can't help but make you want to dance. Also a lovely reminder of the fun and possibilities of pre-Endgame Marvel tbh.

A Better Son by Neery

There's just something wonderful about how this song works for S1 Stede, it remains one of my favourite character studies of him, capturing his dramatic nature, his grit-your-teeth-and-smile approach to the world.

Bethlehem Steel by AurumCalendula

Speaking of character studies this is study, lament, epitaph. Dean Winchester, in all his skills, contradictions, and trauma. I especially love the opening montage of his hands, and the fast, choppy editing. The song choice is inspired too.

Devil's backbone by secretlytodream

A very different Steve Rogers vid to Freedom Ride. I love how it builds, and how it shows how very little choice Bucky had in any of what happened but how Steve chooses him time and time again.

Hail Satan by Tafadhali

Sometimes a vid isn't so much a celebration as a stern FUCK YOU to canon. I said when I first watched this I could feel the anger vibrating off it, and it inspired my own ST vid Brutal. Great song choice, and really great use of the limited amount of screen time Corroded Coffin gets too

To Wreck, Jedusaur/@jedusaur

Speaking of fuck yous to canon.... Not only is this a fantastic, pointed, angry vid, with a gutpunch when you realise just what the vid is about, the first time i saw it also has joyful memories attached, as I watched it premiere at bitchin party far too long ago.

Potential Break Up Song by sisabet

Just roll around in the most toxic of toxic breakups. I watched Smallville for far too long because of Michael Rosebaum's face and this is a really good exhibition of why. His ability to make one of THE comic book villains the poorest little miaow miaow.

Wait for it by booksandwildthings

(I only have the YouTube link for this). This remains one of my favourite Obi-Wan vids, though really this whole playlist could be Obi-Wan. I like the usage of the cartoon source, and the impact the switch to live action makes. It also really throws into sharp relief how much Obi-Wan loved Anakin, which of course makes his betrayal hurt even more (flashing lights in this one)

Whoomp (There it Is) by Sisabet

Has me grinning the whole way through. Saving the world with friendship and nail bits! This has such great movement and the editing is spot on. The lyric matching is so fun too. (flashing lights in this one)

Spring Break Anthem by emotionallyits2009

If Bethlehem Steel is Dean As Tragedy, this is Dean as well...just watch. The comedy in this vid is so well done, and I really love the way it highlights Jensen's comic chops, while also exploring the darker underbelly of Dean's hedonism.

And apparently I only get 10 vids per post?? So I guess this is part one of two

[bunnakit]

do you want to get chicken noodles?

i've had several people wonder why i'm obsessed with playboyy's aob and why i'm constantly saddened by the indifference towards him on the dash so i figured i'd grab hold of my 'too much' habits again and do a breakdown of all the reasons i love aob.

as always, i'm just a little guy on the internet. i could be way off base, i could be seeing things that aren't there, i could be reading too much into things, could be forgetting points of the plot or times when people have mentioned aob in a bad light, whatever. i just ask that you be nice to me because i'm only this big 🤏🏻 (and i also took the time to make gifs of almost every single aob moment across 8 episodes and i've been working on this for 5 hours - some gifs are crunchy because i had to lower the quality to capture everything i want to address)

to preface, so much of aob isn't in what he says - you actually gain so much more to learn from aob about what he doesn't say and observing his body language and facial expressions closely. aob tells his entire story with his body, because that's how he's grown used to communicating.

episode 1 🌸

we see here aob is genuinely baffled by the behavior of teena and soong. he's used to the environment of playboyy where clients are just paychecks and there's game of cat and mouse and as a result no need for any sort of emotions or emotional manipulation. he's simply providing a service and doing a job. he doesn't have to lure and romance, his clients come to him. the idea of getting emotions involved is completely foreign to him.

episode 2 🌸

we're brought to a flashback almost immediately in episode 2 that raises a lot of questions but also shows us quite a bit. as aob walks up the stairs he moves as if he owns the place, with the utmost confidence. as he ascends we see security treat him with respect and offer wai's in passing - almost as if he is someone in charge here. this shows us what a big deal aob is among the club, how respected he is even as far as the security is concerned. i think it's a very interesting detail that helps back up aob's arrogance and confidence, because why would he be anything else?

the following conversation with the other workers is a bit confusing to me and as far as i recall we don't have all the answers to the questions it raises just yet. we do learn aob is the one that taught jump, teena, and soong during their time at playboyy. he asks them what they're going to do for a living if they're leaving and i think this conveys the idea that aob isn't as heartless as he appears. he worries for them and wonders how they'll take care of themselves if they leave.

teena makes a comment about the boss going too far but i'm not sure if we know what he means by that yet? i had actually completely forgotten about this encounter until i went back to grab screens. i want to comment on this part more but it's not really the point, i'm just really curious what the fuck they're talking about here as they seem to insinuate they've been forced to work here and even aob is surprised by that. this leads me to believe that aob might be a bigger part of the plot later on, perhaps in uncovering whatever was meant by these comments.

episode 4 🌸

i think this is the moment aob really lost favor with so much of the fandom and i do understand why, however, there's a lot that happens here that's very interesting to observe.

"Don't say 'true love' and 'soulmate.'"

i have to wonder why these were the first words aob brings up as soong laments his situation. no one said those words, aob, but you sure did.

teena then talks to soong about what he's heard and tells him he should be responsible for first's feelings in all of this to which aob makes the above expression. aob hates the discussion of feelings, believes emotions need to be removed from the equation entirely, and is baffled by the way his friends are acting about people that should be nothing more than clients and believes any form of relationship impossible.

"Try being in love." "What, stupid love?"

something about this makes me believe that aob doesn't know what love is, not real love. he dismisses it as stupid and scoffs while the others almost roll their eyes at him. it's easy for aob to give the advice he does when he doesn't have love burning a hole in his chest the way they do, he's never felt it before, doesn't know how all consuming it is.

and then as first confronts soong the camera pans from teena to aob and i find his expression very interesting. that doesn't look like a man removed of emotions. to me, that looks like a man that has just had his world tilted on it's axis and is now questioning everything he's ever told himself. he sees first's tears and the way soong stands still and listens as first falls apart. i think that moment truly startled him and drove home that the emotions between the boys and their 'clients' are very real.

episode 5 🌸

alright, episode 5 is a lot so i'm sorry for the absolute wall of gifs and texts coming for this single episode.

"Time to work, Puen."

aob meets puen on the stage and immediately his face falls as it's not him picked first but puen. later, aob walks into the back where puen is smoking and immediately takes in the sight of him.

"Are you Puen?" "I am." "You're quite hot."

"Come find me later. I want to know why you're so popular."

aob wants to know who has dethroned him and why his clients are so enamored with puen. what does puen, someone completely new to the business, have to offer that he doesn't? this is also where aob begins to look at puen and from here on he will never look away.

aob speaks so very much with his eyes. you can see his gaze drop and take in all of puen here during their 'evaluation' as he asks permission before going further with him. it's obviously quite professional but i think it also shows us that aob isn't as cold as he tells people he is; or perhaps that's just where puen is concerned.

this is really where i realized that much of understanding aob is reading into what he isn't saying or what his words are hiding.

"I knew it, you aren't that great."

but he is, because aob can't look away from him.

"...You attract clients that want to try new things. Once they are bored of you they'll dump you."

you're attracted to me and want to try something with me, but once you're bored you'll leave me.

"Why don't you teach me? I want to be like you."

show me what you want from me. i want you to like me.

"I'm sorry. I can't be a teacher. I'm a prostitute. Oh. Don't be like me." Because you can never be. Loser."

i'm sorry. i can't like you. i'm a prostitute. and please don't like me because i can never like you back. don't look to me anymore.

but puen accepts that challenge.

(i forgot to watermark this one lmao, i don't care enough to go fix it)

i'm still not entirely sure what to make of this moment with prom. why does he squeeze aob's shoulder as if to offer him some kind of reassurance? why does aob shake his head just the slightest bit and suddenly look like he's going to face a firing squad? does prom know it's already too late for aob, that he's in too deep? is he trying to prepare aob for the sudden fire in puen's veins? i'm really struggling to figure it out, really. i think it could mean quite a few things or nothing at all.

"Why are you criticizing me? People might think you're jealous of me."

puen has so very clearly learned what makes aob tick. he's learned that aob's pride is also his biggest weakness and he picks at that weak point to evoke a response from him - and it works. suddenly aob is all bluster and anger, but interestingly puen doesn't back down, doesn't even flinch. instead, he has a confident smile and meets aob's eyes with a challenge burning in his own.

aob doesn't know what to do with that. you can see it in the shift of his face. this expression is very similar to the one he makes when first confronts soong - he's on the wrong foot, confused and adrift because suddenly puen is no longer the innocent doe-eyed novice but someone who is pushing back and challenging him. no one has ever challenged him before.

they meet again later in the bathroom where aob is doing some sort of display of dominance perched on a urinal. listen, that's my blorbo, but even i can't defend that. baby get down from there, you're making even more of a fool of yourself.

"Do you want to eat chicken noodles with me?"

aob rejects the invitation and puen laments that he seemed fine earlier when they were in the room together.

"What happens in the room stays in the room, Puen. You can't have feelings for the clients. They'll be strangers when they leave."

what i do in the room with you has to stay there. i can't have feelings for you. you'll become a stranger to me when you leave.

"Why do you have to act so cold and emotionless to everyone?"

and aob doesn't answer. he doesn't even get angry. there's just a quiet look of resignation on his face and he bites his lip, almost like he's nervous, almost like puen is looking at him too closely and starting to see right through him.

"Can you have feelings for your friends or brothers?"

or for me.

"You aren't my friend or my brother. You're a competitor."

because you have to be. because i can't handle any alternative. i can't love you.

episode 6 🌸

they're in the bathroom again but this time it's puen waiting for aob asking why he's been avoiding him.

"Why can't you have sex like a couple? You taught me how to feel. So practice what you preach."

why can't we have sex like a couple? you taught me to remove the feelings from it so why can't you do that?

and i think it's very interesting that for a moment aob drops his gaze and looks away. he's been caught and called out and looks away almost in submission before pulling up his guard again.

"I don't have any feelings for a kid like you. I just can't do it. You're not sexy enough."

he attacks puen's looks but this is a direct contradiction to when they first met and the first thing he said was "You're quite hot." once again aob says the opposite of what he means.

i have feelings for you, this is why i can't have sex with you like a couple. i like you far too much.

"Fine. I'll be better than you someday."

fine. i'll make you love me.

and aob can't take it any longer. he goes just outside the door and breaks down because it's all so much; his feelings for puen, puen's refusal to back down, the turmoil he finds himself in having everything he's ever known turned upside down. he was never supposed to have feelings, least of all for someone as stubborn and determined as puen who breaks down his walls and challenges him at every turn. his will is breaking down every bit as much as he is in this moment.

episode 7 🌸

this was one of the first scenes to really make me emotional in this show. throughout this entire scene aob cannot look away from puen. all of his attention is on puen to the point where he neglects the client and even pushes him away. he touches only puen, kisses only puen. he seems almost tortured by the moment, to be so close but so far from the object of his desire.

and puen looks at him with the challenge in his eyes again, almost mocking: look at me, i've surpassed you. you can't take your eyes off me. i've won.

and aob continues to watch him, his eyes almost a caress, gaze almost reverent as if he's witnessing something holy. my man is absolutely lost in the sauce.

"You have a crush on a loser like me, huh? So you couldn't help yourself."

"This is how you pay me back?" why are you doing this to me? "Do it to me, not in front of the client. What's wrong with you?" don't challenge me in front of a client. don't push me.

but puen knows he's won, he knows he's hit the nail on the head and aob, as he always does, is growing defensive. because he's scared.

"But I'm glad that I'm important to you. Like I said, I will be better than you someday. But that day came so quickly. You lost."

i'm glad you've realized i'm important to you. like i said, i would make you love me. that day came so quickly. i've won.

episode 8 🌸

i didn't get gifs of the scene but prom asks aob if he's jealous of puen's popularity. that's all he asks. but what's interesting is aob replies:

"Jealous? I don't have feelings for him."

aob... i don't think that's what prom was asking. prom asked if you were jealous of his popularity among the clients, if you were jealous that he'd taken your throne.

and puen appears to challenge aob again, blows him a kiss almost as a reminder of their previous encounter. but aob doesn't get angry, doesn't rise to the bait. if anything he looks sad, maybe contemplative, and perhaps like he's coming to terms with something.

You only appreciate the value of something when you are about to lose it. It's just so fucking awful.

Especially when you know in your heart that you are powerless.

Because he isn't your boyfriend.

The more you want to know the more painful it gets.

throughout this entire scene aob looks so sorrowful, like he knows he has to do something soon or he will lose his chance with puen. he has to try because this powerless feeling is growing to be too much.

aob is waiting for puen at the bottom of the stairs and if you look he's bouncing his leg in a nervous tick. when puen rounds the corning his face is immediately in some semblance of a smile which is something we really haven't seen from aob. it gives the impression that he worked himself up to this moment despite how nervous he is. (his shirt is also very wrinkled, were you in a rush?)

"How are you going to haze me today?"

and this i think drives home that puen is tiring of their game. that aob is so very close to losing puen because puen is starting to believe aob's words, believe that aob doesn't like him and only wants to harass him.

so aob takes the leap.

(and i find the handle with care on the wall particularly interesting, as both of them need to be handled with care. aob, with his unfamiliar and warring feelings, and puen with his earnest and hopeful heart.)

and as aob bridges that gap puen looks taken aback and confused because what the fuck, aob isn't soft, doesn't do things like this.

"Do you want to get chicken noodles?"

aob asks, a throwback to the day puen had asked him on a date. an acknowledgement and an apology.

i'm sorry i wasn't ready then, but i'm ready now. will you still have me?

and that's why today's episode made me cry and why i love aob so, so very much. his journey learning his feelings and learning what love feels like and what love can be isn't pretty, he fights it tooth and nail the entire way, but the smile on both their faces as he jumps on puen's back gives me so much hope that they can be good for each other and support each other.

there are still so many episodes left and maybe i'll be wearing clown make up by the end of this, maybe my hopelessly disgustingly romantic heart has misled me, maybe i've read the facial expressions and body language all wrong, but regardless of all of that aob and puen are so special to me.

[tactical-mode]

Episode 010

(Remember to turn on CC for the dialogue!)

This episode is full of departures from the OG, although nothing so drastic as 7R. In many cases, dialogue has been tweaked to suit the blocking. It’s my opinion that these tweaks - mostly from Remake - suit the characters and the flow, but you can be the judge.

[Chapter 04] Scene 37-40: Morning in the Slums

Tifa joins the party while Barret’s Theme pleases the ear. This is actually the original midi track from the 1997 game but put through some modern samplings. Later in the episode, you’ll hear the orchestration by modder Neo Faizan, which can be used in your Remake playthrough, I heartily recommend it!

OG fans may notice that I’ve changed this scene somewhat. In the old game, the dialogue introduces a materia tutorial. Since this is in movie-style, that's nixed. I thought about planning some overlay text to show our loadout, like so:

(I gave Tifa an advanced purple materia here because she’ll be roundhouse kicking giant robots soon and I don’t want her to break her leg.) The overlay idea was scrapped.

Scene 41

This small scene on the train platform uses dialogue mostly from Remake, although in places I have swapped the new lines out for things that are covered in side-dialogue in the OG (such as SOLDIER being deployed).

In my initial concept for the series I wanted all scenes like this to go in the Extended Cut playlist only, as separate “deleted” scenes. So, why the change? Primarily because the music leads from one scene to the next, and without a clear break, I didn’t want to jank the flow.

[Chapter 05] Scene 01-03

Enjoy the music mod by Neo Faizan and the Train NPCs mod by FantasyRaiderr. These scenes are spliced in with scenes from Chapter 2. If you watch all the episodes in one sitting, you can see that I’ve filmed the same moment twice and used it in Episode 7 and now 10. Whoops!

There’s also a materia in the background of the emptied train car. It emits glowing particles that were chewing the scenery, so to film the scene I opened the engine .ini and removed all particle effects. Much less distracting!

In OG, Tifa is the one who breaks up the fight, prompting Cloud to very cooly say his line. In 7R, Tifa ain’t here and Cloud has a moribund expression to match a changed bit of dialogue (a more judgemental “You know you’re better than that.”).

Scene 04

Ah finally, a music track from Remake! Hurry! Is the name of the tune, and has several versions in Remake - this one brings the ticking clock noise, running synth, and morse-code-esque percussion  that most closely matches Uematsu’s score. 

The race against time from the OG sadly doesn’t happen in 7R, so we jump from the train straight away. There’s also no goodbye sequence with Biggs, Wedge, and Jessie. The only indication they’re even on the mission is a single shot of them imported from Chapter 2.

Remake’s replacement for these scenes (killer drones that attack everyone on the train) was also cut, this time by me. It may explain why the party seems to be ready to fight something off screen, and why the passengers seem less afraid of Barret that they are of Tifa (hint: they’re actually afraid of the killer drones behind her).

One final change: in OG, Barret jumps from the train last, boasting that a leader always stays until the end. I lament the change here, but I couldn’t edit my way out of him jumping first. Ah well, at least we get a nice little romantic moment here. My multi-shipper heart soars.

Scenes 05-15

Several combats are cut here. The music track is Lurking in the Darkness from EC. Also, if you play through 7R, this scene is likely cluttered with crates and pylons, as a combat full of exploding interactables happens just before it. To reset the crates so they aren’t bouncing around the scene, I had to save in the quick moment between the fight and the cutscene, then reset the game so that the interactibles appeared back in their default position. Clever girl, eh?

Barret going off about Plans B to D as well as the railway map is an invention of 7R. I liked it, so I kept it, clipping where I could to keep it brisk. It allows the song to play out, shows us some tasteful character interactions, and serves as a tidy plot button for the end of the episode. It is thus saved from becoming a deleted scene, purism be damned!

One last note here - in trying to force Barret and Tifa to run up to the map at the right time, I spent a lot of time freezing the engine, causing any the actors in motion to float far away. This forced them to backtrack towards their marker while I set up a shot. A shot I really liked of Barret reflected the OG's image of the train tunnel and I really wanted to use it, but I found it confusing as a viewer in terms of getting a sense of place.

Final Thoughts

This episode brings the series’ run-time up to about an hour. That’s on par with the original game. Comparatively, Remake’s version of the train escape happens around the 8-hour mark. Just some fun stats for you. I am hoping that this is one of the episodes in which I play the loosest with OG's script but there are some real hurdles up ahead. In the meanwhile, I get to kick back and enjoy some dungeon and combat for the next few releases.

[patchesofuniverse]

I found this in my drafts - I wrote it after I finished Leverage: Redemption S1 and then most of the original series. Posting it now with the caveat that I never got around to watching the rest of Leverage: Redemption so I do not know what happened from there.

----------

It still amazes me that people who've lived through

- Sherlock, where the creators outright deny that their two male leads could ever get together, while throwing out constant M/M fanservice.

- FIFTEEN seasons of Supernatural, where women can't survive for very long because they'd threaten the fan-preferred M/M pairings, and one of the actors for the pairing straight up denies that his character could even be gay, shot down questions about it, and finally just "didn't want to put him in a box" following an outcry near the very end of the series.

- She-who-shall-not-be-named, who never so much as hinted that any character might not be straight, but then declared one gay when the series was basically done.

- and however many more queerbaiting shows

can look at Leverage and think the creators are trying to pull one over on us.

- "That means I would be thinking about you and Parker, which I never do!" in the least convincing tone, after lamenting the suave thief Parker is out with that night.

- Watching them kiss and nodding

- "'til my dying day" and "but you never, never need anything" "Yeah, I did" looks over at Parker and Hardison for a moment before looking back "And thanks to you, I don’t have to search anymore."

- Confirmation from the creator that the OT3 is canon.

- "Even numbers only baby" and "Age of the geek, babe"

- The hints in the show (Hardison being aware of how Eliot wakes up, "we built vents in the house", etc) and then confirmation that the three of them live together.

- The necklaces

- Hardison talks to Eliot AND Parker before making the decision to step away from the team. Parker's scene is more dramatic, sure - but Hardison checks in with Eliot too, and Eliot confirms his support before Parker drags Hardison off for their chat.

They haven't given us a kiss or the exact words, sure. Polyamory still isn't widely accepted in the US - it's very possible that they can't give us a big flashy display on screen because of executive meddling, or just that they have to consider ratings.

But what they've given us is in line with the characters they've created. They also never make it into a joke, aside from Hardison's "We're together" bit in The 12 Steps Job (which was season one). They don't make flashy fanservice out of scenes with Hardison and Eliot together, or with the three of them.

The Leverage PTB haven't queerbaited us with the OT3. They queercoded them. And then confirmed that they intended the things we saw on screen.

Part of me wonders if the idea that the OT3 are queerbait is the fact that Eliot's relationship with Hardison and Parker is more subdued than their relationship with each other. I think there may be folks who want to see them as a perfect, exclusive triangle where they all share the exact same relationship style. But that's not how polyamorous relationships have to work - and indeed, it's not how most of them work. Parker and Eliot have always had a different kind of relationship than Parker and Hardison. It's not unreasonable to think that, even in a committed romantic threesome, the three sides of the triangle would represent different types of relationships.

[kitkatt0430]

Iris and Caitlin for the character opinion bingo?

Iris

I had to use purple lightning for her bingo markers. Hehehe

So Iris is a character I have sooooo many strong opinions about because of how the narrative treats her. I think she deserves so much better than she gets, especially given how canon doesn't really seem to know what it's doing with her sometimes. And unfortunately there's a swath of fandom that hates her for being the black love interest of a white man, whether they want to admit that's their reason for hating her or not.

I wish she got more focus not just on her personal life but on her work. Iris' job as an investigative journalist was a deep well of interesting plot lines but even when the show did attempt to dip into that well... they wound up sidelining Iris in the mirror world or making her writing the sort of after-event round up. The Central City Citizen's shift from being a small start up to a big name with big offices happened off screen between seasons.

Anyway, I would have the biggest squish on her if she were a real person I knew. I wanna give her so many hugs when bad things happen to her. (Especially after Eddie died and later when Barry gets temporarily imprisoned in the speed force.) Of course I also like putting her in the Situations with the Bad Things. So. I can at least make others give her the hugs.

Now for...

Caitlin

The closest MS Paint was coming to blue snowflakes for her bingo markers.

If canon didn't know what to do with Iris then it really didn't know what to do with Caitlin. To the point that she's basically written out of two seasons so that two different alters can front her body in her place. And their inability to write her a love interest post Ronnie without screwing it up somehow (evil, no chemistry, thank god Danielle put her foot down, no chemistry again... and finally evil fake Ronnie) was just... I mean I guess it was good for me as it played into my arospec and acespec headcanons for her but how badly do you have to fail to understand your own character to put her on a shelf for a season twice???

Honestly while I enjoy Frost as a separate character from Caitlin, I still lament the fourth season retcon that made them split personalities and not just how Caitlin was with her powers activated. Caitlin ended S3 with so much promise for her next character arc as somewhere between anti-hero and anti-villain and... the retcon robbed us - robbed her.

And of course Caitlin has her fandom haters. But I think what's worse are her 'fans' who prop her up by tearing Iris down. And... if you can only raise up your fav by tearing some other character down then do you actually like that 'fav' or do you just like tearing the other character down?

[denimbex1986]

'I am with a friend, watching clips of Andrew Scott on the red carpet.

“I bet he’s totally sound in real life,” she says, as on screen, Scott hops from one foot to another, his eyes bright and crinkly, engaging enthusiastically with the interviewer. Clip after clip, he’s there, with his eyebrows waggling, always in motion, always doing his best to make the person with the microphone’s job a little bit easier.

Still, he’s an actor — he can make us believe what he wants us to, right? So, I’m a bit nervous about interviewing the Bafta winner, Golden Globes, and SAG nominee. The interview is on Zoom, but when we link up, it’s a blank screen. I curse under my breath — being able to see each other adds a whole other dimension to the experience. Especially since, just last night, I was watching him as Ripley, trying on some teeny swimming togs in sultry Italy.

“Ah Andrew,” I lament, staring at a black screen. “Can I not see you?”

“Sadly not,” he says, his voice husky, a little hoarse. “I’m in a very strange place.”

“Ooh, tell me more,” says I, picturing sexy confession boxes with Phoebe Waller-Bridge or a flat in an isolated tower block with Paul Mescal.

Alas, no. He’s just off a long redeye flight, and video isn’t an option. I tell him I wouldn’t have bothered putting on makeup if I’d known, and he laughs and apologises. Pretty sound so far.

Scott grew up in Dublin, the middle child in a close-knit family. His beloved mum, Nora, an art teacher, passed away around this time last year. I ask him what his family think of his rise to fame.

“Well, you know, my family have been so great over the years,” he says.

“They were up at the Edinburgh Festival, when I was doing little plays. They were always so supportive, right from the very start. And my sisters came over to the Emmys this year, and it was great to be able to show them all that kind of stuff and to be able to see it through their eyes as well, you know?

“My sisters are the best. My mum was always such an incredibly supportive mum, not just to me, but to my two sisters as well.

“So we all miss her beyond words,” he pauses for a couple of beats and continues, “it’s been, if I’m honest... it’s been tough, you know, because a lot of the sadness hits you when the good things happen.

“Even last week, I won a prize at the Berlin Film Festival. And my first instinct, of course, was to call my mum. I wanted to share that with her. And you know, it’s bittersweet, but I hope, I do hope she’s watching from somewhere.”

His sisters, he tells me, are his best friends.

“We are very, very close, myself and my sisters. I love them so much. My older sister and I are kind of Irish twins — there are only 11 months between myself and Sarah. I’m in the middle. Hannah then is seven years younger than me. So it’s great; we are always there for each other.”

I ask him if they have fun with the more glamorous part of his job.

“When we went to the Emmys actually, Simone Rocha dressed us, that was great fun. I adore Simone’s designs, she creates such beautiful stuff. Her team were so incredibly kind to my sister too, she looked so beautiful.

“I think Simone Rocha is just a wonderfully inventive designer. So, I was delighted to wear her the other day too at the Independent Spirits Awards in California.”

Scott enjoys fashion and isn’t afraid to experiment.

“I feel it’s important to be a bit playful on the red carpet, not to be too buttoned up, to play around with it a bit.”

Does he really enjoy the red carpet as much as he appears to in all those clips online?

“I see it as a celebration, really, once you can get past the intimidating thing of 50 cameramen shouting at you, and of course they’re just doing their job. It’s really important to me to have fun, to enjoy it. I have an amazing team; we’re all part of the same thing, we spend a lot of time together and we all do this extraordinary thing; it’s important we don’t take it all too seriously and to enjoy the process as much as the product.”

I can't talk to Andrew Scott without asking him about the Hot Priest he played in Fleabag. He has said in past interviews that he didn’t create a name for the tortured priest. Phoebe Waller-Bridge and he just focused on the connection and chemistry that their two characters had. I ask him if he feels any regret in how the show ended — Fleabag confessing her feelings to the priest at a bus stop. “I love you,” she says. He looks at her for what feels like an eternity and then delivers the devastating line: “It will pass.”

“Oh yes!” he laughs. “That’s what people like, though, isn’t it, the exquisite agony of that. The audience might think, ‘Oh, we wanted them to get together,’ but that scene is what makes it really memorable. I love that show, and I love the fact that it sort of ended that way. You couldn’t change it. You couldn’t!”

Scott has partnered with Redbreast Irish Whiskey and SXSW Film & TV Festival to shine a spotlight on Irish films and filmmakers. Well-established as one of Ireland’s most versatile and skilful actors, Scott says he remains deeply connected to the emerging talent that is flourishing in Irish film and television.

“I love the idea of finding new voices,” he says. “Especially in relation to young filmmakers. We’ve been speaking with a lot of emerging filmmakers, and there’s a prize for them. I’ve spent time talking to them, and it’s been really inspiring to see such genuine, beautiful movies. It feels very, very positive.”

It’s an exciting time for Irish creatives; you can hardly go to an awards ceremony without tripping over Irish talent. Why does he think that is?

“Well, it’s hard to put a finger on it, really, I guess the world, in some ways, is a smaller place than it used to be. Studios can look at people’s screen tapes from all over the world. If they like somebody, they’re able to bring them into town and try and make that work. That’s not to underestimate the individual talent, of course.

“I was at the Iftas recently, which was such a special evening. I loved seeing everybody. I was sat beside Saoirse Ronan and her beautiful mum, and we were just saying exactly that, you know, we felt so proud. And so many up-and-comers! I love seeing Kneecap doing so brilliantly. It’s a really confident time for the Irish, and I’m so proud to be part of that.”

Does he have the cúpla focal himself?

“I think it’s great, that pride in our language. I have a bit of Irish, but I let it slide. But sometimes, it’s very handy. Like when you’re on the tube in London and you want to talk in code, if you want to say: ‘Cé he an fearr seo?’ or something, it can come in handy.”

Is there anyone Irish, I ask him, that he would love to work with?

“Wouldn’t it be great if there was a script to put all the Irish talent together in one film? So, a big epic Irish like… maybe a big Irish superhero movie!” he says laughing.

I still have that scene from Ripley in my head, and I silently congratulate myself for not blurting out that he could play Captain Underpants.

Instead, I tell him any star worth their salt has a house in Cork at the moment, and ask if we can expect to see him holidaying in Schull with his All of Us Strangers co-star, Paul Mescal?

“I need to get myself an invite!” he laughs.

“Cork is such a beautiful part of the world. We actually used to go down to Kinsale a lot, I’ll definitely have to get down there again soon. If ye’ll have me! If ye’ll have a Jackeen?” I assure him he will be made most welcome. Saoirse Ronan, of course, also has a place in Ballydehob.

“I’d love to do something with Saoirse, I’d love to work on something with her. I think she’s a genius,” he says.

While we’re waiting for Saoirse to sort her schedule out and for her people to call his people, Scott has recently finished work on Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery, Rian Johnson’s thriller headlined by Daniel Craig, and also starring Josh O’Connor, Cailee Spaeny, and Kerry Washington as well as eight-time Academy Award nominee Glenn Close. When I ask him what it was like working on that movie, I don’t need to see him to know he’s smiling.

“Certainly, the cast was pretty undeniable. On the first day, I was intimidated,” he admits. “You’re working with some incredibly iconic people, also some very exciting young people, and so it just provided this absolutely extraordinary atmosphere.

“They’re all amazing actors, but my God, what a brilliant group of people, we just really gelled right from the beginning. I think, because it’s an ensemble you’re sitting around in between takes, and nobody has too much of the burden themselves. So it just provides a, you know, they have an atmosphere there where you don’t go back to your trailer and go on your phone, you sit around and talk to each other and have a laugh. And they were incredibly kind to me,” he says. “I had an absolute ball.”

I wonder was there anyone he was star struck by, or is that a thing that doesn’t happen anymore?

“Do you know what,” he confides, “l thought like when you’re working with Glenn Close because, she’s just somebody who’s just such a cinematic giant, I thought I might be a little bit in awe.

“But right from the beginning, you realised that she’s just an actor to her fingertips, and she’s so funny and so generous and brilliant, we all absolutely adored her. She was lovely.”

Earlier, when Scott was sharing about missing his mum, and hoping she was watching him, I said to him that I was sure she was enormously proud of her son.

“I hope so,” was his reply.

A gifted actor, on screen and stage, an ambassador, and advocate for new talent, Andrew Scott is, as Mescal so perfectly described him, “an extraordinary human being”. Plus, my friend was right. He is so sound. What mum wouldn’t be proud?'

[ninjastar107]

'Caught Inbetween' - A protoman-centered MMC fic

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [PART 5]

What was he, really? He was too advance to be like the other machines, but he was too mechanical to be human. Somehow he found himself being a bit of both, being seen as a kid dressed up in a costume by onlookers until they had a better look at his eyes.

The glow always gave him away.

Too mechanical to cause harm, but too human to follow orders. He was a machine, but to what purpose? A son? A vagabond? Blues let the 'thought' be his last. He watched the sunset through dimming vision, the orange mass wobbling and melting into the horizon.

-- "Solar powered, of course that blasted Dr. Light built this one…" an unfamiliar voice grumbled, " Faulty too, must be a prototype."

Where was he? Who was that? He was barely past the BIOS screen when the world faded out once again.

--

Something had changed. There was a new heat that ran through his tubes and wires, coursing with the force of a fusion reactor. Blues snapped his eyes open, the shock of his functions running without delay holding him in silence. Here he was again upon a table, just like the first day he was activated all over again. Above him stood the doctor -a different one this time- who marveled proudly at his work. "Who are you?" Blues asked in awe. "Just an old doctor who happened upon you. Dr. Light always gives up halfway through making a robot, and I always have to finish the job." Wily lamented, "Like with you and your faulty core that I generously replaced. Not all of his robots get this special treatment from me!" Blues sat up. The area around felt like a lab albeit a bit too bright for his liking. Why he could hardly see the doctor over the floodlight above him. A few white screens flickered against the wall, too bright for him to make out anything. "I have so little at my disposal but I had just enough to fix you up! Now you can go and fulfill your function!" Wily smiled. Blues thought on it, flexing his fingers. "I do not have one." Wily stared at him, eyes narrowing as a smug grin tugged at his cheeks, "Oh leave it to Light to not even program that into his machines… No matter, I can fix that!" Blues watched the doctor pace around before heading towards the monitors and merging with the light. He boxed his eyes in an attempt to dim the area, feeling for the light switch on the floodlight and accidentally knocking a few tools off a side table. Wily flashed a brief glare between rummaging about, his hands moving to make a slight modification to the helmet he fashioned. "Hold still now," Wily ordered and promptly stuck it on him, "There you go my boy, a little protection for your new purpose!" The world dimmed tremendously beneath the tinted visor, unveiling a level of detail more attuned to what he was used to. It must be a side effect to the new core, maybe too much energy flow to his optics? The only other explanation would be that this doctor looked at more than his power input... "You never explained what that exactly is." Wily ran a hand down his mustache in disdain, "The world out there is so cruel to someone like me, a shunned expert. Dr.Light gets all of the credit for all of the hard work I put in, why I'm practically exiled from society!" The doctor went back to rummaging, "There is this pesky robot named 'Megaman' always destroying my work! Nothing but minor setbacks, but annoying ones at that! I want you to stop him." Blues glanced down at the buster Wily had procured and offered. He had seen similar designed tools for construction droids, but never without extra wires or battery. "The pest has one similar, but yours is much more powerful. You should be able to defeat him easily- here, let ol' Dr. Wily install it for you!" Not that Blues was going to say no, this doctor saved his life after all and it wouldn't be right to not repay him in some way. He watched intently at the process, noting what parts need to be removed and readjusted so that he could reverse it later. This was just all part of the repayment plan, and once Megaman was defeated, he would return to his normal wandering ways. He wasn't programmed for combat…. but how hard could it be?

[webbywatcheshorror]

Webby Watches Horror: Don't Listen/Voces (2020)

Don't Listen, also called Voces in the original Spanish, is a movie about a family, a haunted house, and the importance of communication, especially when it comes to taking your children's concerns seriously.

This one's equal parts creepy and devastating, taking some tropes of the haunted house genre and making them feel familiar but freshly terrifying.

The poster doesn't tell you much, but trust me when I say that's a good thing. If you can go into this movie knowing as little as possible, absolutely do so. Which, naturally, absolutely means you should not continue reading this review.

Because, as always my dear beasties and ghouls, there are SPOILERS under the cut. Let's get to it!

Don't Listen opens up with an overhead shot of a filthy swimming pool, a red ball floating in its murky waters. We're introduced to this little family of three- Dani, his wife Sara, and their young son Eric, who is getting a visit from a therapist.

A lot of horror movies with children have trouble making the audience sympathetic towards them- The Babadook movie comes to mind as an example. Not so with this movie, however- Eric garners sympathy in the first few minutes he's on screen. Him looking up so hopeful at his therapist when she tells him there are other kids like him, only to be visibly disappointed when she clearly doesn't understand what he's going through.

Eric isn't struggling with the recent move to this new house- his parents are renovators and this isn't his first rodeo. What's different this time are the voices he hears, that demand he draw pictures and won't let him sleep at night. Just the worst kind of art commissions honestly.

His parents are your classic 'too busy with work to listen to my kid' but they're not the kind that piss me off. They try to spend time with him and obviously love him, but they're just Too Busy to really hear what he has to say. Which is tragically ironic considering the name of the movie.

The First Kill happens as Eric frantically draws it, his crayons flying across the page interspersed with the death happening in real time. We get some good Ecto-Electro-Communication in this movie, with the spirits talking to Eric through his walkie-talkie, his radio, and even his electronic toys; but they aren't restricted to just whispering static nothings. There's a VERY good sequence of a figure behind a plastic sheet in his room while he hides under the covers.

Side note- this movie may have the side effect of making you suspicious of common house flies for a while. Seeing one crawl into someone's ear and take over their body left quite the impact on me. (And the therapist.)

A lot of good horror is also incredibly tragic. Sometimes you watch a horror movie and you find yourself lamenting 'If Only, If Only'. If Only Eric's parents had listened to him when he told them he was scared and hearing voices. If Only they had taken him seriously when he went from loudly enthusiastic about the new place to lashing out at school and wishing they could move away.

One of the old rules of horror tended to be that you didn't kill the kids. (Yes, there's exceptions, don't @ me) Don't Listen ups the emotional tension by breaking that rule and not just for shock value. The second half of the movie is centered on the aftermath of Eric's death and how it affects his parents and the house.

One of the core themes of this movie is possession. Some of it is, of course, being possessed by spirits (via house flies. In the ear canal. Cannot stress enough how repulsive that is. It rules.) but also being possessed by your grief. Grief makes people desperate, which in turn can make them do things they might never have considered before, or behave in ways they would find appalling otherwise.

Dani's grief causes him to become single-mindedly focused on his son's spirit who contacts him through the walkie-talkie. In his grief, he does not stop to consider that this may not even be his son- despite evidence to the contrary and the advice of the expert he brings in to help. Sara's grief, meanwhile, makes her suspicious and aggressive, assuming the worst of her husband without bothering to listen to him explain.

The second half of the movie is where things get far more tense and atmospheric. The expert and his daughter/assistant give us an excellent 'Oh Shit It's Real' moment when she's monitoring the room via cameras/thermal detection/assorted ghost hunting gear and she tells him the presence they detected is right in front of him- but from his perspective, there's just an empty room.

Interestingly, the ghosts are shown to have a heat signature, unlike most media where they're depicted as having a negative effect on the temperature. The ghost expert's daughter even mistakes a ghost for Dani at one point, since she was viewing Eric's room through the thermo-filter thing. It's never really explained, but I think it has something to do with this particular ghost's overwhelming rage, which I'll touch on later.

The Showcase scene is beautifully sad and horrific. Expert sees his dead wife again for the first time, and it seems as though perhaps there are good spirits here, as well- until she's making him cut into his own arm so he can join her, and it's shown that the vision was all in his head and he's been cutting himself for real.

There's a lot of good background ghosts in this one, I had a lot of fun trying to spot them during the high tension scenes in particular. However much I enjoy playing Spot the Thing, though, one of the most nerve-wracking scenes To Me is when the mom is playing Peekaboo with the world's dirtiest ghost. I don't know about you but if I saw those nasty looking feet while peeking under the bed, there's no way in hell I'd be doing a TRIPLE TAKE.

The first time I was watching this movie, I actually paused it and pointed at the screen because, while looking in the background for more ghosts, I spotted a Whipstaff Manor playset! Now, the 1995 live action Casper movie is my very favorite movie, and when I started thinking about WHY that particular toy would be here, I realized that there's actually a lot of similarities between these two films.

Both movies deal with grief, with the loss of a child driving a parent to extremes. Both feature a father with a headstrong daughter, chasing literal ghosts in the hopes of one day making contact with their deceased wife. Both movies even have a hidden underground room! However, in this movie, the hidden room is also a Spanish Inquisition-era torture dungeon, complete with corpses.

Yeah, I didn't expect the Spanish Inquisition (nobody ever does, so I hear). Part of me was laughing but the rest of me was horrified- when they tell you what happened, when they describe the way the woman was killed, you really understand why she came back as a ghost, and why she's so angry. Was she a witch? Possibly. She seemed to have a powerful voice.

The run up to the climax of the film is really good, making you question whether or not we're about to lose one of the three remaining characters, if we're going to witness yet another tragic death. The relief is almost tangible when they put an end to the witch's ghost and set her free- the evil is defeated (though, is she evil? Did she commit these acts as a spirit with intent or is she lashing out as a creature so consumed by her fury that it's all that's left of her?)

But Don't Listen has one final horror for us. As Dani visits his son's room one more time, he notices his son's artwork on the walls, possibly placed up there as a subtle cry for help. He sees crayon image after crayon image of the deaths and other events that happened well after the death of his son, and his realization that it was his own hands that took his son's life is one tragedy too many to bear.

We end the movie as we begin it- an overhead shot of the swimming pool, though the red ball is replaced by Dani's blood blossoming out into the water. As the credits roll, we hear the infernal buzzing of flies, which made my skin crawl just a bit, after having watched them crawl into ear canals multiple times in the past hour or so.

I did want to touch on the flies again, just for a moment. Usually flies are used in horror to symbolize the stench of decay, since movie scientists have, thankfully, not yet inflicted smell-o-vision upon us. When we hear the buzzing or see the erratic zig zagging of the insects, we instinctively know that something nearby is rotting, likely already dead. But in Voces, the buzzing of the flies is more of a harbinger, a herald of the death to come.

Spain wants me specifically to be scared shitless, I think. This makes the second movie I've reviewed that contains a concept that is terrifying to me personally and, were I to be unlucky enough to be in that situation, I would be incredibly dead so very, very fast. (If you have any more Spanish horror films to recommend, my inbox is always open!)

I gotta give this one 10/10 ghosts. It's tense, it's horrific, it has atmosphere for days, and a killer ending. (Not to mention the Whipstaff Manor thing. I am but a simple ghoul.) I really highly recommend watching this one, multiple times if you can handle it. There's so much more to notice on a second viewing! And try not to panic if you hear the buzzing of flies afterward. They're probably normal flies. Probably.

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Fifteen)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N:

Some big moves are made in this one ;)

Also, feel free to comment, say hi, chat to me a bit. I love when people interact with my fics  <3

Simon felt exhausted when he got home, a day of vigorous training draining him. He enjoyed the feeling though, always enjoyed the sensation of when he'd pushed his body as far as it would go. His two weeks leave had sadly ended and he'd spent every second of it with Charlotte. She'd called in sick to have the two weeks off, she wasn't sick at all, and he'd enjoyed the time with her. It wasn't all spent in her bed, although there was plenty of that. 

There was a special kind of non-sexual intimacy that came with being snuggled on the couch watching shitty tv, of the pair of them moving around each other easily as they cooked a meal together, lazy kisses being shared when they found a moment, of sitting against the headboard with her settled between his legs, her back to his chest as she read to him. It had been domestic and blissful and a life he'd never thought he'd get, nor wanted. But then it was over and it was back to work for the both of them and suddenly, he wasn't staying at hers every night. 

It was almost like he'd reverted back to being worried he'd be too much, worried he'd annoy her if he was around all the time, which made no sense given the fact he'd stayed with her for almost his entire leave and things had been perfect. It made him long for something though. Long for a time where he wasn't away from her, where every day he got to come home to her and just shared that domestic bliss he'd caught a glimpse of. 

He hopped into the shower, having it so hot it turned his skin pink as he let it relax his muscles. Once he felt clean enough, he got dressed in some sweats and a plain black T-shirt. He was glad it was weekend now, wondering what he and Charlotte would get up to. Weekends had always been boring to him in the past since he didn't have much to do other than pester his brother, but now he held that typical longing for the weekend that most working people held. The one he'd never quite shared or understood. Weekends were their undisturbed time. 

He flopped onto the couch with a groan, contemplating ordering take away because he was far too tired to cook something. He had some beef super noodles in, maybe he'd just bang them in the microwave. He was broken out of his musings when his phone started ringing and he smiled when Lottie’s name flashed on his screen. It was only 6.15pm, a lot earlier than she usually called him when they were away from each other. She finished work at 6pm usually but she didn't call him right after, she usually waited until she'd eaten and was settling in for the night. Not that he was complaining about getting an early phone call. Maybe she was calling to ask him to come over, to stay since neither had work the next day. God, he fucking hoped so, he missed her already.

“Hello, love” he smiled when he answered the call. 

“Simon,” her voice rushed out, tearful and pleading and he sat up ramrod straight, a jolt of fear running him through like a sword. 

“Charlotte, what happened? What's wrong?” He rushed, jumping to his feet and grabbing his trainers from the door, already prepared to go running to her. She didn't answer right away and it made him falter, blood turning to ice in his veins as he heard her ragged breaths and sniffles down the phone. 

“My… my flat was-was robbed,” she sobbed and he suddenly felt lightheaded, his hand flying to the wall to support himself.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt? Where are you?” He fired questions off in quick succession as his brain went to the worse case scenarios.

“I'm… I'm ok, it happened when I was working. I came back and it was just… they took so much, Simon,” she lamented tearfully. A wave of relief washed over at him knowing she hadn't been there when it happened but his heart was still going like a jackhammer.

“Where are you, love?” he asked again. He hated hearing her cry and he knew he’d fucking hate seeing it even more when he got to her. He always hated seeing her cry.

“I’m here, at home. The police have just left. They said they'd look into it but there's no cameras here,” she wept pitifully and he grabbed his keys and wallet, heading out of the door and to the lift hurriedly. He really didn't like the idea of her being there after it had been robbed.

“Listen, I’m comin’ over, yeah? Just stay put, sweetheart, I’ll be there soon,” he assured her and she sniffled again.

“Okay,” she murmured quietly. He didn't really want to hang up on her but he needed to call a taxi. He couldn't risk missing the bus or some other shit right now. He needed a lift and he needed one now. 

After a quick goodbye, he hung up and rang Hastings, ordering a taxi. He’d been adamant he needed one quick and lucky for him, a taxi was in the area after dropping someone off. It didn't take long for it to pull up outside of Simon’s building. He was grateful for once that the taxi drivers in Manchester were absolutely mental when they drove as he got there in record speed. When the man pulled up outside the florists, he grabbed his wallet from his pocket, grabbing money out of it.

“Thanks, mate. Keep the change,” he uttered, practically throwing it at the poor man before he was off like a shot. He jogged to the alley way and up the stairs before his whole body came to a screeching halt. The door was mangled, so mangled in fact that it couldn't even close properly anymore. The flimsy lock hadn't been any match for the foot that had clearly kicked in it. He felt so much rage in that moment at the audacity of someone to do this to his girl. 

He pushed the door open, hearing her soft cries before he’d even stepped foot in the place. He was right, it was far more painful in person. As he walked inside, his dark eyes swept around the place in stunned silence. She’d said she was robbed but the place was fucking ransacked. The kitchen floor was litered with broken plates, bowls and glasses, every single fucking cupboard wide open and empty. Food was all over the place, everything was everywhere. Or at least, the things that hadn't been stolen. 

Gone was her fucking TV, gone was all her kitchen appliances, gone was anything that had any fucking value to it. This didn't look like your typical robbery though, not as he looked at the carnage left behind. This was a message. This was personal. 

He found Lottie on the floor between the bed and chest of drawers. All her clothes were in a haphazard pile on the floor as she frantically tossed things about, looking for something. She was sobbing so hard it sounded like she was about to stop breathing, painful sounding hiccups leaving her lips. It crushed him seeing her this way. She didn't even look at him and he wasn't sure if she hadn't noticed him in her haze or if she was too upset to care. He moved to kneel down next to her and gently grabbed her wrist to stop her frantic movements, making her shiny blue eyes snap to his.

“It's alright, love. Come here,” he murmured. Her sobs only seemed to get louder as she allowed him to pull her to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him for dear life and he rubbed her back soothingly, his other hand cradling her head as she wept into his neck. 

“Just breathe, Charlotte. I’m here now, sweetheart. I got you,” he soothed, rocking her a little as he started to calm her. Her breathing slowed down slightly but her sniffles didn’t cease. Neither did the rivulets of tears streaming from her eyes that were soaking his neck. After a long moment, she moved away, not even bothering to wipe her eyes as her tears kept on coming.

“I need… I need to look for the book,” she muttered, sounding out of it, her eyes glazed over. He blinked at her for a moment, watching as she went back to looking anxiously for this ‘book’ under her pile of clothes.

“Love… all your expensive shits gone and your place is a mess and you're worried about a book?” he asked carefully. He was worried about her mental state, worried she was in some state of shock. But then pain washed over her face at his words, it crumpled as her lower lip wobbled and he’d never seen a more heartbreaking sight.

“It was the Grimm’s fairy tales. It’s gone,” she bit out painfully and his heart stopped beating dead in his chest. Fuckin’ hell, of course it had to be. 

He knew now it had to be personal. Who else would take such an old and manky book? Unless the person who took it knew how much it meant to her. That book had special meaning to her and he’d learned even more of the story since she first told him of when she stole it from the library. About how seven months later, she took it back like the good little girl she was because she felt bad about taking it in the first place. About how the librarian had taken pity on the malnourished and dirty child who clearly needed an escape. How the librarian had paid the fees for her and then conveniently lost all record of the book being in the library so she could keep it. That book symbolised the first real act of kindness Charlotte had experienced from another human being and some wretched fucking cunt had taken it from her. He wanted fucking blood for this.

Even though he knew she wouldn't find the book, he helped her look through the pile of stuff anyway so she’d accept the fact quicker than him just saying it to her. He knew it wouldn't help. As he predicted, the book wasn't there and she slumped, looking defeated. Her tears had stopped now, she just looked devastated. He settled to sit with his back leaning against the bed, pulling her to straddle him. He was happy she went willingly and he wrapped her in his arms once more. 

He didn't say anything at first, he knew nothing he could say would make her feel any better, he couldn't replace what she’d lost. So instead, he tried to show her how much he cared, tried to show her he was there and he wasn't planning on going anywhere. She melted into him, face once again pressed into his neck and she inhaled deeply as if his scent soothed her. He hoped it did, he hoped he could bring her a sense of comfort like she did to him. 

“I don’t think this was a normal robbery, Lottie. I think this was personal,” he muttered after a long silence. His voice was soft and careful, afraid to spook her and cause her to cry again. He wasn't sure if he could take it. She didn't move from where she lay against him, her hand rubbing patterns on his chest through his top.

“I think it was Ethan,” she replied quietly. His brows rose at that, remembering that weasely whiny fucker from all that time ago.

“What makes you think that?” he asked her. She sucked in a breath before sitting up and he instantly didn't like the way she avoided his gaze, a contrite look on her face.

“Don’t be mad,” she started, making his stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Why would I be mad?” he asked slowly, voice low with suspicion. Had she done something? Had she done something with him? His brain started to run away with itself and he felt sick.

“He came here two days ago,” she admitted and bile rose to his throat. He felt like all of his worst nightmares were coming true. Why hadn’t she told him? Had she fucked him? 

“Why didn't you say anything?” he bit out, unable to hide the hurt in his tone. His eyes were piercing into her as she still looked everywhere but at him, swallowing thickly. She smoothed her hands up his chest and he tensed at her touch, making her finally look at him with a frown.

“I didn't let him in, I didn't think it was worth mentioning. He was outside drunk and… he was going on about Jessica leaving him for someone else or something but I just told him to fuck off. I didn't open the door. He wasn't there long,” she rambled imploringly, hands bunching in his shirt.

“Still shoulda told me,” he muttered and she nodded with a sad frown.

“I know… I wanted to, I just didn’t want to upset you. I didn't want you to be mad at me,” she murmured, her brows still pulled together.

“Why would I be mad at you ‘cause that tosser turned up here?” he asked incredulously but she just shrugged, a frustrated noise leaving her lips. 

He wished he could go inside her brain and fix it for her. Always the burden, always the one in the wrong, always the problem. He hated it. Hated the idea that she thought he’d be mad at her for something out of her control. He knew then just by looking at her he’d been stupid and rash to jump to conclusions as he had. Could hardly help it though when he was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop with her, feeling like he was always waiting for her to be taken from him.

“Come here, silly girl,” he tutted, pulling her head back to lay on him as he stroked her hair. She relaxed under his touch instantly, gripping his shirt so tight he was afraid it might rip.

“I’m sorry,” she lamented, rubbing her nose on the skin of his neck. He suppressed the shiver it almost caused as he allowed his hands to card through her long hair.

“Don't want you keepin’ shit from me from now on, yeah? I don’t like it,” he huffed and she nodded against him.

“I promise,” she murmured before placing a soft kiss to his neck. What a fucking whirlwind this evening turned out to be. He’d hardly expected any of it.

She sat in his lap for a moment and he just enjoyed the closeness they were sharing, trying to calm himself down after his brain had run away with itself.

“I don't know what to do,” she started softly. Her hand had eased from the death grip on his top and was once again back to tracing random patterns through his clothes.

“About what, love?” he asked quietly, leaning his head against the side of hers.

“I don't feel safe here now and almost all my stuff’s gone. I can't afford to get more and I wouldn't be able to get another flat so close to work. The only reason I managed this one is ‘cause Jessica pulled some strings at her work,” she sighed despondently. Simon’s mouth opened before he had a second to second guess himself.

“Could just move in with me,” he suggested. Her hand stilled on his chest and he could hear his heart thundering in his ears. He wasn't sure if it was an appropriate suggestion or not, he’d just allowed his heart to overtake his brain. He felt like he was holding his breath as he watched her sit up, wide blue eyes staring at him. Her mouth floundered for a moment, shock colouring her face.

“I couldn't ask you to do that,” she frowned with a shake of her head.

“Not askin’, I’m offerin’,” he remarked, reminding him of the morning after their first night together. She blinked her long lashes at him, hands anxiously fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“You want me to move in with you?” she asked shyly.

“Wouldn't suggest it if I didn't,” he answered easily, moving to tuck some of her hair behind her ear. She bit her lower lip, a smile working its way onto her lips and easing the nerves running rampant in him.

“You're sure?” she asked again and he rolled his eyes playfully at her.

“Positive,” he smirked and she allowed her smile to break free unrestrained on her face and what a beautiful sight it was. 

“Okay,” she grinned and he felt his heart beat faster against his ribcage. 

She’d actually agreed to it. The idea of waking up every morning to her, of coming home from work to see her, fuck he wanted that. He was getting that. He leaned in and captured her lips in a tender kiss, cupping her cheek as he tried to savour the moment. It was a big move, he knew that, knew this was going to change things with them, but he didn't care. He wanted to take that leap. He wanted it all with her.

“How about I clean up the mess and you start packin’ up what's left,” he asked, glancing around the mess of the flat. A fleeting look of sadness crossed her face but it was gone as quick as it came, as if telling herself she wouldn't allow it to ruin her mood. She nodded, leaning over to kiss his cheek, making heat bloom high on his cheekbones like a fucking school girl. 

He got up, moving around the place quickly as he started to clean up. He swept up all the shards in the kitchen, triple bagging them so some poor sod wouldn't cut themselves on the edges. He moved around the place chucking things in bin bags that couldn't be salvaged as she got together a little bag. Hurt his heart to see she didn't have much left when he was done throwing things away. Felt sorry for her.

“Um… what should I do with all…” she trailed off, looking at her little taxidermy collection and succulents. The only things to survive the massacre of her apartment. 

“Bring it with us,” he shrugged, unsure why she was asking. Her brows furrowed as she toyed with her fingers. She always did that when she was stuck in that pretty little head of hers.

“I don't wanna… it’s your apartment, Simon, I don’t wanna take it over,” she sighed and he moved over to her.

“Our apartment now, yeah? And I want you to. Always felt unlived in and I love it here so much ‘cause all of your little touches. Be nice to have that back home,” he admitted softly, taking her hand in his. She blinked her doe eyes at him as he brought her hand to his mouth, placing a soft kiss across her knuckles and making her smile prettily. She opened her mouth and he could already taste the impending words coming out of her mouth.

“If you ask me if I’m sure, I’ll put you in one of the fuckin’ bin bags,” he grouched and she snorted, her cheeks blushing furiously and he knew he’d caught her out. 

“Okay, okay,” she relented, heaving a dramatic sigh and making him smile. He took the bin bags outside for her to put in the dumpsters in the alley and let her finish getting all her stuff ready. She’d mentioned talking to the landlord when they got back to his, theirs, since he needed to know the door couldn’t close properly. 

“You got everythin’? Where's your tablet?” he asked and the words clogged in his throat like a stone when she pursed her lips, a dark look passing across her face.

“It was taken,” she muttered, trying to sound unbothered but he knew better. He inhaled deeply, trying to push the anger away.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him,” he growled. Was bad enough he’d robbed her shit and wrecked the place, he’d taken the book which had the highest of sentimental value to Charlotte, but to take her tablet too. She didn't have to say it for him to know all her hard work was on there. Countless hours, months even, of drawings and paintings were on that thing and now they were gone. Not to mention how she couldn’t make any more art on it if she didn’t fucking have it.

“We don’t know for certain it was him,” she shrugged and he levelled her a look that made her look away sheepishly. They both knew the fucker was responsible and Simon was going to damn well deal with it. No one fucked with his girl.

With only a few bags of belongings, she and Simon went back home and he once again opted for a taxi so she could bring all her plants and other stuff along. He ran to the Chinese place down the road to get them food, not wanting to cook after such a taxing day and wanting to treat her to something after all she’d been through. They ate their food comfortably as the TV played in the background and when they were done, he sat on the sofa as he watched her pot about the place, putting her things away. 

He’d had to reassure her about twenty bloody times that it was fine every time she felt like she was being too much. He didn't think she could ever be too much. He loved how the place looked with the little pieces of taxidermy dotted about, her succulents finding new homes on windows ledges and the fireplace. Loved watching her carefully put her clothes away next to his. 

His apartment had always been cold and empty to him to the point he rarely frequented it before her. And then even after, he was here just to be closer to her than at his barracks and spent most of his time at hers. But now she was here, it wasn't just his place anymore and the place wasn't so cold. It was warm and full of light, like someone had opened the curtains and allowed the sun to filter in after a long and desolate winter. She radiated so much warmth and light that there wasn't a fucking corner of the place that wasn't bathed in it. 

He knew then without a doubt he wanted this forever. He wanted her forever. He couldn't imagine a world where he didn't get to see her pretty face, didn't get to hear her melodic laugh, didn't get to listen to her sass or be shy. He couldn't imagine a world where her light couldn't reach him because he was sure he'd die if that happened. He’d be nothing but a ghost without her. Haunting the earth with no purpose, no reason to be here. She’d asked him once what the point in living was and he knew his point, his purpose, was her.