#shout out to my friends and co-authors

[thelonelybrilliance]

thelonelybrilliance/TolkienGirl: My Year in Fanfic

In addition to posting a nice even number of unique fics for AO3 scrolling purposes (60), I also launched some ambitious projects, finally wrote a few one-shots for my favorite small fandoms, and completed some megafics. The Silmarillion Gold Rush AU (cc: @abadpoetwithdreams and @wearetakingthehobbitstogallifrey) is steadily progressing. @mapleymood and I are bringing The Summer I Turned Pretty into the realm of literature 😉. And my endless analysis of Friday Night Lights with @itspileofgoodthings has produced yet more fictional musings.

Without further ado:

COMPLETED MULTI-CHAPS:

Pharmakós - An epic, entirely original saga that took several years to complete (started in 2021). In our Gold Rush retelling of The Silmarillion, the Finwean cousins (Maedhros, Fingon, Finrod) lead a diplomatic delegation to Doriath, only to encounter unexpected friends and foes under Elu Thingol's roof

The Figurehead - My take on Stranger Things Season 5, with Steve/Nancy as the heart and soul. Picks up right where Season 4 left off (started in 2022)

with unbroken rhythm - Estrela waits in Mithrim. But Mithrim itself is not unchanging, and unlikely news has a way of finding its mark (Gold Rush AU)

here is my hand, my heart, my throat, my wrist - Maedhros, finding his voice (Gold Rush AU)

WIP MULTI-CHAPS:

crooked love (in a straight line down) - Broken promises, distant memories... Taylor Jewel and Jeremiah Fisher should have nothing in common but mutual resentment. Why do they share a growing understanding instead? (The Summer I Turned Pretty crack-treated-seriously sequel, with @mapleymood)

nativity scenes - An ongoing look at the first memories around each Finwean grandchild's birth (with @abadpoetwithdreams and @wearetakingthehobbitstogallifrey, Gold Rush AU)

To the Young Who Want to Die - Sequel to Pharmakós; a not-entirely-triumphant return to Mithrim (Gold Rush AU)

Penetralium - A different sequel to Pharmakós; Melkor Bauglir moves house, licks his wounds, and regroups (Gold Rush AU)

ONE-SHOTS (by fandom):

The Silmarillion

Gold Rush AU 2024 Installments

Red Rising

born to raise the sons of earth - She’s proven Eo right. And it wasn’t because of me. It wasn’t because of love. It was because it was the right thing to do, and because mighty Kavax was more a father to her than her own ever was. (Mustang, pre-series & Morning Star)

Lights that do mislead the Morn - If she didn’t love him, why learn him? (Mustang/Cassius, Morning Star)

Swan Song - It’s only now, loitering at the threshold of the med-bay, that Mustang can admit she’s been avoiding this moment. She’s afraid of her brother. She’s afraid of losing Darrow—and the future she’s trying to safeguard for them both. For Pax, her deepest thoughts whisper, half-haunted that even the voices in her head can be heard by listening ears intent on betrayal. She’s afraid of the war turning inward, ally against ally. She shouldn’t be afraid of the man in the bed. (Mustang/Cassius, Morning Star)

looking for an easier world - How I miss them—the friends whose lives have marched on without me. (Cassius, Dark Age)

worth no less than a brother - Today, instead of Aurae’s ministrations and musical voice, I have a bloodydamn Bellona with coffee-breath aiming hits at every part of my body that hasn’t already sustained major trauma. (Darrow & Cassius, Light Bringer)

Wasteland - He is not a man on a journey. He is not a man who can afford to fail. (Diomedes, Dark Age)

Imperative - “I wonder how he shall bear death,” Roque muses. He selects a grape to pluck. How he can eat them after Fitchner—“Even after everything, I wonder that.” (Cassius & Roque, Morning Star)

we can still hear the sound of the surf (though we shall land no more) - Kalindora told me to trust this man, who holds a wicked, serrated blade over my chest and purses his lips as if deep in thought. (Lysander & Atlas (& Cassius), Light Bringer)

A Deep-Sworn Vow - “You think I’m a man?” “I think you’re a pissant little boy possessed by a demon.” (Victra/Sevro, Morning Star)

forgetting is a kind of mercy - Even with her heart carefully armored by layers of fierce temper and her tongue as sharp as one of her blades, it is her turn to be compassionate, because it is my mother who is dead. (Pax & Electra, Dark Age)

the dead do not suffer the living to pass  - Three lives, three passages. (Julian, Pax, Cassius, Red Rising)

Friday Night Lights

Clear Eyes - Season 2 Codas (ongoing - 11/15 completed)

in what distant deeps or skies - Smash and Tim go on an adventure (s1)

I lie to myself all the time (but I never believe me) - Like a bruise, is hope. You have to come around to its existence, its tenderness. (Tim, Jackie, Bo, s1)

you know it might be worth it for once - Come into my life, she was saying, like he’d never left it. (Tim/Tyra, s5)

The Queen's Thief

had chosen thus to fling his soul - “This will be the last journey, I promise,” she murmured, after a moment. “Another mark beside my name,” he said lightly. (Gen & Helen, pre-Queen of Attolia)

we insist on love (when all we want is mercy) - Every power that Eugenides knew—and some, maybe, that he didn’t—had brought him here, alone at the foot of a secret stairwell, waiting for a queen who wasn’t his. (Gen/Irene, Queen of Attolia)

a swing in prime - The truth of his loneliness was the only thing he could never tell her. Honesty stopped short when checked by love. (Gen/Irene, King of Attolia)

neutral islands - Helen did not know whether she ought to take note of her own enjoyment of Sophos’ company… yet enjoy it she did. (Helen/Sophos, A Conspiracy of Kings)

a kind of contentment - Eugenides, Kamet, and promises kept. (Gen & Kamet, flashback connected to Thick as Thieves)

A Shop for Killers

Dragonfly - Amidst all her learning—their learning—about how to be people who shared a roof and pretended not to share a history, Jian was the only witness to the slow development of her uncle’s real self. (Jeong Jinman & Jeong Jian)

Gethsemane - One does not walk into hell and expect a favorable outcome. (Jeong Jinman & Jeong Jian)

Pride and Prejudice

just as they used to be then - “I have commissioned a Mr. Plimer to come and take your portraits while you are at home,” Mr. Darcy said, seeming satisfied with the explanation he had received. “He is an accomplished miniaturist, and I believe the small table in my room will be amply improved by the addition of your three faces, if you will oblige me.” It was a compliment that could not but bear a sting. (Darcy & Wickham, pre-canon)

Mara, Daughter of the Nile

behold thou my heart (which grieveth for thee) - Sheftu had plucked hope like a flower, even while he should have heeded its thorn. (Mara/Sheftu, missing scene post-canon)

The Witch of Blackbird Pond

like rain carrying the memory of lightning - Confound the girl, but she’s in every sky and storm, in every wave and calm. (Kit/Nat, Nat POV missing scene)

White Collar

Patchwork Man - Back in the world, new anklet and old digs—it doesn’t have to be perfect to be too good to be true. Because that’s the heart of the matter, isn’t it? When you slip the noose, the world doesn’t become a kinder place, and it certainly doesn’t stop turning. (Neal & Peter, s2)

Once Upon a Time

parallels - It’s a bad day to be Emma Swan, sure. But it’s also a bad day to be an overly self-assured, literally underhanded pirate. (Captain Swan, s2)

The Office/Friday Night Lights

the drop-dead dream (the chosen one) - In which Michael Scott does not mourn his stepdad (unless he does), and has his life changed at a Dillon Panthers game (unless he doesn't).

[hhoneyhams]

Full Count - Modern Laios/F!Reader

Word Count: ~2.7k

Features: lots of inappropriate uses of company time (ahem), closet sex, destruction of store property, technical difficulties, and pizza 'n soda for morale! It also gets a little sappy at one point, yippee!

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!! ESRB RATED M FOR MATURE (Technically A/O but who uses that anymore?? )

Content Warning: Unprotected sex, public sex, and cream pies

The reader has female genitalia and is human. I tried to keep all other descriptions/pronouns to a minimum.

Author's Note: Shout out to @toxycodone for making the post that inspired this whole thing! Minimum wage worker Laios is a darling idea, but thinking about him working in a video game and collectible store just stole my HEART! I'd let him tell me all about his D&D campaign and his most recent Skyrim run any day 🖤

“--have a good night!” you call out to a departing customer. As the door shuts behind them, you turn off the neon ‘open’ sign and begin your closing duties. 

Instead of wiping down the windows and letting the shutters down, you were handed pencils and two printed-off sheets of paper attached to clipboards.

“You and Laios go do the pre-owned and new console count, I’ll see what I can do about the internet before the night is over,” your boss sighs, pulling out their phone to make some calls. Your eyes meet Laios’ as he pauses what he is doing on the sales floor to make his way to the area behind the registers.

“The internet went down?”

“I think that storm knocked it out earlier…” you theorize, handing him the other pencil and clipboard. “We were having trouble over here with the POS and cards.”

“Oh, it's down-down then,” the blond confirms. You grab your second soda can of the night and your keys to the back room. He follows suit after he takes another piece of pizza, cold and tough from airing out on the counter. “That’s lame.” 

Taking care of a count by hand is nothing for you, but using your extra hours to redo a count isn’t your idea of a fun Friday night. The day of full-count inventory for your store was quickly looming, the internet going out another hurdle in the way of your freedom.

The two of you lock yourselves into the back. You open the side closet that holds both sets of consoles to count. The closet wasn’t cramped, but you were a bit cozy in there. Various gaming consoles lined the walls and were stacked along the floors.

You and Laios were rarely scheduled together, but you always enjoyed yourselves when you were. You met him at a staff meeting shortly after he started at the store. The whole night you had ended up talking about everything from dungeon-crawler games to Dungeons and Dragons, to even discussing the potential of getting some friends together to do a joint playthrough of one of his favorite games in the Monster Hunter series.

It isn’t a secret that you find him attractive. Your other co-workers poke fun at how you clam up around him. You’re just content with listening to him ramble, unlike some of the others. 

Usually, people don’t last at this job long enough for you to get attached, but you know you’d be a little sad to see him go. 

Your phone vibrates in your pocket with a text from your manager. Laios’ phone has been forgotten somewhere out front so he glances over your shoulder to read the text:

‘Going home. Finish the count and lock up when you’re done. Someone should be bringing us a router from another store tomorrow.’

Leave it to a manager to have you clean up their mess…

“Shit, why do we still have to do this then? I mean, if we’re just going to be back up and running tomorrow morning, why stay late and see if everything is there?” you vent to Laios, setting the clipboard down on the ground and flopping straight onto your ass. “They can’t even see if we’re actually doing this, so why not fudge these numbers and go home early…”

“Well, think of it this way,” he begins, sitting down beside you and settling his clipboard neatly in his lap. “They can’t see that we’re sitting down and taking care of it!” He begins to scan along the consoles sitting on the floor, marking off each console he finds by the serial number.

He was so content with the mundane that it hurt. He was a real ‘yes, ma’am’ ‘no, sir’ kind of worker, always coming to work with a smile on his face.

You felt like a bad influence every time you worked with him…

Your other coworker, Kabru, always makes it known just how much he wants to choke Laios during their shifts together. Something was very endearing to you about how dedicated he could be to a part-time position like this.

You joined him…and continued your work on the floor.

“--so our DM, right? This guy-”

“Our district manager or your dungeon master?”

“Oh, dungeon master, got mad at me for rolling SUPER high on a perception check and went after my sister’s character for it. So our next session is going to be us trying to get her back from a dragon. We’ve got to take some time off because we lost a couple of people but I’m ready to throw down next time!” he says, determination in his voice. You give him a smile in response, your mind pretty occupied by the task at hand. 

He continues to prattle on excitedly about some of the other escapades his party took place in as you counted the rest of everything that you could whilst sitting on the floor. You were always scared of whatever googly-eyed look you’d give him as you listened intently, so you would usually throw yourself into your work as he talked.

He was kind of like a big, hunky podcast or something…

“Alright, we’ve gotta get up now…” you huff, slowly getting up by grabbing onto one of the wire shelves for support. The hard linoleum floor was not doing you any favors in the comfort department and cut off the circulation to your legs.

You stumble forward and fall on top of Laios, jerking down the shelf you held onto for support, and flinging some of the handhelds onto the floor with you. His strong hands catch you around your middle so you don’t bang your heads against each other. 

A shot of heat rushes through you, embarrassment flushing your face and the telltale signs of butterflies blooming in your belly.

Were you really that touch-starved?

“There goes the Switches, 3 if you need to write it down,” he points out, not making any moves to let go of you as he does so. You settle down in his hands and look over your shoulder to see if he is actually right. 

You’ll have to test those to make sure they still work before you go home…

Laios continued to hold you, almost memorizing the way your body felt under his hands despite the space between the two of you that remained. 

Per your training modules, you knew that physical advances between coworkers were strictly prohibited on the store’s premises. This was clearly an accident, but if the prolonged touching between the two of you said anything, it's that it wasn’t exactly unwanted. 

Laios looks up to the ceiling, the light on the console room’s camera no longer pulsing red like it usually does.

“If the internet is out, the cameras are as well. You can’t get in trouble…”

Your eyes bore into his as you gaped in astonishment.

What is he implying…? 

There are a few beats of silence between the two of you before you close the gap, pressing a heated kiss to his lips and tangling your fingers into his soft shirt. He melted into the kiss, gripping your hips tightly to hold you against him. His lips were slightly chapped and he tasted like the pizza and soda from before.

“I’ve been wanting to shut you up all night,” you mumble, a smile stretching against your lips as you press more kisses against his.

“I thought you liked listening to me!” His tone is genuinely shocked as he says it, taking on a nervous edge like he has done something wrong. You hush him, rolling your eyes.

“I do, but holy shit, you’re so distracting!”

“You’re distracting too!” he fusses, pressing an accusatory finger to your nose playfully. “I’m always trying to get your attention and you never look at me!”

“I’m trying not to give you ‘fuck me’ eyes while you talk about Skyrim!” you confess, swatting his hand away. Telling him causes your cheeks to burn hotter than they have before. 

Suddenly, you feel something (or someone, rather) graze the underside of your rear. Laios’ cock strains against his pants as he looks away from you, his face turning a rather deep red to match the shirt he was wearing. He blushes all the way from the tips of his ears and down his neck.

“You…you want to fuck me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

It totally wasn’t. Laios didn’t think you liked him that much at all. He would see the way your eyes lit up at certain conversation topics and he did his best to keep your interest, but you always found something to distract yourself with. He’d even resorted to yelling across the store at you as you darted around to straighten up the shelves or stock. You didn’t tell him to shut up like Kabru or Toshiro, but you didn’t engage with him a ton.

He has caught your gaze on a couple of rare occasions, but you would quickly dart your eyes away when you found out that he had noticed. If you were worried about making him uncomfortable, he would have rather known that he wasn’t making you feel that way.

He wanted to make it all up to you. You now know so much about him, but he wanted to take the time to get to know everything about you. He’s heard you talk about your favorite game once or twice, but he wants to know exactly when you played it and why it is your favorite. He wants to know silly stuff, like your favorite Pokémon. He wants to know why you listen to him and why you don’t talk over him or cut him off. He wants to know how long you’ve liked him…

He wants to know why you’re so afraid to look at him…when it's all he ever really wanted. 

His thoughts run wild in his head about everything he wants to know about you, but they go silent the second you go in for another kiss.

Well…He knows you want to fuck him!

Your hands are cold from the store’s A/C, Laios ends up jumping slightly as you drag your hands underneath his shirt and along his back and sides. He lifts his arms up for you to pull the shirt off of him and wraps them back around your body in turn.

It was pretty damn cold in there, though.

In a heat-of-the-moment, split decision, he decides to reposition you so he can pull himself free of his pants. His overactive fingers struggle with the buckle of his belt as he begins to curse. You take over for him as he laughs at himself.

“Sorry, I’m a bit nervous… it's exciting, really! But, holy shit, I’m not used to all of this,” 

You don’t blame him, it's riskier than anything you’ve ever done in your life. You’re working part-time in a game store, your life isn’t remotely exciting enough to have had sex in public, much less at work and ON THE CLOCK.

From his perspective, he just found out that you liked him 5 minutes ago and now you’re pulling his dick out to suck him silly in your store’s console closet. Make it make sense!

Laios lets out a few quiet moans as you run your tongue along his cock, looking him straight in the eye. It’s everything he could have ever asked for, but he’s jumpy and keeping one eye on you and one on the door. You pull away and use the remaining spit to jerk him lazily with one of your hands. His head thrashes to the side and he lets out a low cry. 

“You know we’re still the only ones here…you don’t have to be quiet, Laios,” you simper. He breathes heavily and grabs your shoulder to stop your ministrations.

“We’ve got to be quick, I can’t wait much longer,” he rasps out. His hands begin to pull at your shirt. “I want to see you, please…”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice!

Laios’ eyes and hands are glued to your tits as you ride him, his fingers pinching your nipples as he notes the size and the way they bounce with you. Your body was something else to him, it was so familiar and foreign at the same time. He’d notice your shape, your clothes, and the way they complemented your figure and movement as you worked.

…yeah, you were distracting.

To have that same body held within his hands, wrapping snugly around his cock, crashing onto him and around him…He wonders how he could have gotten so lucky. 

“I’m…I’m standing up, I-I’ve got you,” he grits out, every movement against you bringing him closer and closer to the precipice. You wrap your arms and legs around him tightly, your fingernails digging into the muscles of his back as he hoists you up. You reach between your bodies to help guide him back in. 

He’s hitting at a new angle, pistoning in and out of you without abandon. Your curses and moans are buried into his shoulder as he keens out. His grunts and his sighs go straight into your ear, his encouragement not lost.

“F-fuck, I want you to look at me,” he says breathlessly. You tear your head from his shoulder and do as he requests. His face is red, sweat dripping from his brow, his iris blown black as his eyes dilate, and his jaw is slack as moans tumble from his mouth. His eyes aren’t staying open as he slams into you, his thrusts losing their rhythmic staccato. “Y-you’re amazing, and this is–”

“Laios, I’m s-so close,” you interrupt him, grabbing him and pulling him forward for a kiss. Your moans are rumbling in your throat as he picks up his pace again. You pull away long enough to breathe but find yourself back on his lips once more. 

You grab and hold one of the wire shelves for support, the position being a bit taxing to maintain for the both of you. He goes to warn you not to do it again but your grip and his movement cause the shelf to fall from the wall just like it did last time. You both yell and your body clenches around his, causing him to double over and almost drop you. 

There goes a whole PS4…

“Fuuck, shit, I don’t care, I don’t care, j-just keep going!” you shout, clawing along his back. Everything around you was becoming too much to bear. The sound and feel of your wetness, skin slapping against skin, the sweaty heat cooled by the A/C. You closed your eyes tightly, you focused on the orgasm rising in your belly, you let yourself get closer, and closer, and–

“I’m gonna cum inside you!” Laios announces with a line of drool running from the seam of his lips. He continued splitting you open with his cock, his form was sloppy but he held you so close to him.

Your orgasm ripped through you, causing you to clench against him tightly. Laios fucked you through your release and came shortly after, pressing you down onto himself as he shuddered and groaned. You weren’t sure how the two of you were able to stay upright after that.

Your legs on his back slide down and you hold onto him for support as he slides back out. His pants were still around his ankles, so it was a quick getaway for him to come back with some of the scratchiest brown paper towels your bathroom had to offer.

“T-thanks,” you say, trading his shirt you fished off of the floor for the paper towels. He hums, still pretty dazed. He sits right back in the floor against the wall as you change, watching you almost enraptured as you pull enough clothes on to toddle to the bathroom and finish cleaning up. “That was…something.”

It was something good though.

The rest of the night was spent testing those consoles that fell, just to make sure they weren’t broken. Luckily enough, everything was in working condition, even if the wire shelves remained discarded to the side of the room.

The two of you agreed to just say you clocked out earlier since it was pushing on midnight. You shared the rest of the pizza in the parking lot and drove your separate ways home. After you got inside your apartment, you received a text from Laios:

‘I don’t think we ever finished those counts…’

End Notes: Some of the work stuff is so specific...Don't ask lol

I'm still working on getting more confident with writing smut and oneshots. I've been writing fanfiction for years but it was all super involved multichapters that never went anywhere! Either way, I really hope you enjoyed reading this because I sure as shit enjoyed writing it!! 😎

Minor edits will be made if I find any mistakes and constructive criticism is always appreciated! (Just don’t be an ass about it 👀)

Credits: Dividers by @/cafekitsune, cover art from 'Daydream Hour' scans

🖤 Rules | Ask Box | Masterlist 🖤

[januaryembrs]

I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE | Marc Spector x reader

Request: @happyhauntt says - okay i am BEGGING for a fic based on the song 'forest fire' by brighton (be warned that shit HURTS) but i fully cannot decide between poe dameron, steven/marc or spencer reid so i am giving you full creative direction and i look forward to getting my heart ripped out!!

Description: Marc had always carried her with him, since they were small kids playing pirates in the yard, before things got messed up by grown up feelings and burdens. It's not until he sees her twenty years later, he realises he should have saved her.

length: 3.9k

Warnings: Heavy warnings for childhood / domestic abuse/neglect (both from Marc and also reader has a neglectful father) warnings for alcohol, the cave scene, drowning, death etc. you asked for angst, so I served!

authors note: sorry this took so damn long, today isn't even my day off and I have been too exhausted to even look at my computer, but I hope you like it!

Before Randall was too little to be part of his adventures, Marc used to play on his own in the yard. 

Usually that entailed kicking a football at the wooden fence that lined their garden, trying to knock it off his chest when it would come bouncing back the way he’d seen the professionals do it, even if it had led to three milk teeth coming loose already. 

But there weren’t kids on his street to play with, at least that’s what he thought until the one day he kicked his ball a little too high and watched it fly right over the top of the fence, bouncing into the neighbour's yard, a soft “ouch” meeting his ears. 

In minutes, a little head appeared over the wall, beady eyes frowning down at him, and he realised it was a girl around his age, maybe a little younger. 

“Did you lose this?” She held up his soccer ball he was worried he was going to have to kiss goodbye to forever, the small digits of her other hand holding onto the fence tightly. 

“Yeah! Sorry, I didn’t mean to kick it so high,” Marc said, and with no more explanation than that, she threw it over to his side of the partition, and her tiny head disappeared back below the fence line. 

He felt stunned. He knew there were moving boxes over that way a couple weeks ago, but as far as he could see there was only a man living there on his own, a scowl on his face most days. Marc had seen him shouting at the other kids on his block to stop riding their bikes in front of his house because it ‘upset the dog’, though Marc had yet to see for himself this canine friend he was speaking about. 

But there was a girl living there! A real life girl who spoke to him; granted he had lobbed a heavy soccer ball at her, from what her distaste told him, and he wondered if perhaps, despite the grumpy look on her face he realised mirrored the man he’d seen living there, that she might like to even make friends with her neighbour. 

“Wait!” He yelled, running up to the fence where she had slipped away from him, grabbing on to the top and pulling himself up to the point he was on his very tippy toes and he could only just about see her yard. 

The grass was unkempt, which was odd because Marc’s own dad cut the grass every fortnight, and there were planks of wood with nails sticking out of them strewn across the side of the shed she had used to pull herself up with. He fought the urge to cringe in disgust, because there, looking up at him from where she was making a daisy chain in the long, dry grass, alone in a pink plaid shorts and a white, dirt stained top, was the girl. 

“Do you want to play?” Marc asked, his foot nearly slipping under him where he was trying to rest it on the wood to take a closer look, “I have tennis, or swing ball we could play?” 

She looked interested at the mop of curly, black hair for a moment, before she looked back at the house that he had still yet to see any sign of a dog. 

“I’m not sure my dad would like it…” She said cautiously, almost whispering to him, picking the soil under her nails. 

“My mom could come around and get you, she could talk to him,” He offered, because this was when his mother was still mom and not Wendy. 

Before she had yet to flip his world entirely upside down with her cruel hands and vicious tongue. Before Steven. 

She seemed unsure, biting her bottom lip and stroking her arms like she was giving herself a cuddle. But she nodded, looking up at him, and he tried to hide just how excited he was to finally have someone to play with. 

“I’m Marc,” He said, grinning at her, his tongue poking between the space where his adult teeth were only just growing back in. 

She told him her name back, and it was the first time he understood what a crush was. 

–

“Marc, I’m not sure we should be doing this,” She said, grabbing his hand so tight he thought his heart might explode. 

“It’s okay, we come here all the time, don’t we, RoRo?” He reassured, looking back to where Randall, now a few years older and big enough to play with them, held onto the side of the cave, his own face nervous. 

“All the time!” The little boy echoed, because Marc knew he had a bit of a thing for her as well, because she was older and cool and smelled like a field of flowers and he hated seeming like he was scared, even though he was. 

He was just a kid. 

They were just kids. 

And being kids, they stumbled into danger without realising it, not even when the rain started coming down outside torrentially and they had to pause their game of pirates to run for cover. They hadn’t expected, in their childish excitement to continue the adventure, that the water would start pooling into the cave; that it would fill up like a basin, whether they were in there or not, and it wasn’t until the screaming started that they realised they were in the kind of danger that required an adult. 

Marc was the first one to get out, his hair soaked, his heart racing, and he used a grown up word he heard his dad use sometimes because he could have sworn they were both right behind him. 

And if that had been true, then where were they? 

He called her name, debated going back in there himself to see where they had gone, then he yelled for RoRo, because she didn’t seem to be answering. 

And there was only silence, except a clap of thunder overhead that said the rain was going to get worse; was not going to stop for hours. 

Which was when he ran to get his dad. 

By the time Elias got there, his glasses wet and steamed, his thick thatch of curls too similar to Marc’s soaked through, all he could see was a head of hair peeking out of the mouth of the cave, and his heart sank. 

He dragged her out of the dark water, arms under her shoulders as he rolled her on her front and started patting her back, trying to get her to spit some of the water out, because her face was ice and her skin was soaked and her playsuit was ripped from where she’d snagged it on the rocks. 

Marc remembered crying into his hands, gaze flicking back to the cave to see if RoRo was right behind her, if he was just waiting to be pulled out as she had been. 

But there was nothing. Nothing but rain water and moss and those damn rocks he’d been gripping onto not an hour earlier. 

His heart leapt when she spluttered finally, after his dad had thrown her over his knee and taken to giving her a one handed heimlich right between her shoulder blades. She spat the water out, her body shivering immediately, eyes bleary as they looked around as if she expected to still be in that dark hole in the wall, and Elias set her down on the grass to go look for his youngest son. 

“Stay with her, Marc,” He barked, uncharacteristically sharp for him though Marc guessed it was fear, and took off towards the cave again. Marc pulled her into his arms, and it was only then they started wailing together. 

They sat there for an hour when the rescue team finally arrived, a medical team with warm hands and even warmer blankets ushering them to the safety of the back of an ambulance, and the last thing Marc remembered for that horrible day was sitting on the stretcher with her pressed against his side, trembling under the reflective wrap they’d been tucked in that made them look like baked potatoes, wishing he had never suggested they go in that damn cave. 

–

“You’re leaving?” She said, her lip quivering, her eyes lined with tears. They sat on his bed, his duffel bag already packed, his acceptance letter burning daggers into his head from his nightstand, “Military? Marc, just think about this for a minute-”

“I have thought about it. I’m not some dumb kid making rash decisions, I want this,” Except he didn’t, not really. What he meant to say was he wanted to leave, to run away and never come back, but the idea of never seeing her again was too difficult to think about. 

She thought about it for a moment, and he held her hand when he saw her face really start to crumble then. “If you go, I’ll have no one left. You’re all I have,”

He didn’t hide the fact he saw how nervous she was when Marc would pick her up from her house and her father would see her out the door, a nasty, inebriated glare in his eyes at the Specter boy. He saw all the times she would tiptoe around the floorboards, the way he knew too well, as if she was scared of what would happen if she took up too much space, made too much noise. Or when his mother had been kind, way back before any of this had happened, and had fussed over her pretty hair, had piled food on her plate because Wendy said she needed the goodness, she had locked up entirely and looked at his mother as if she was an alien. 

Even now, when they were both seventeen, nearly adults in the grand scheme of things, he knew her father was cruel. 

“I’m sorry,” He said honestly, and he felt his own throat clogging up with real emotion he only ever let himself show when he was with her, “When I get a place of my own, I’ll come back here, and we can pack your bags together, and we can live far away from all of this,” 

And it sounded like he was spinning her a fantasy; which he was. She felt like an idiot for believing him, for flashing him a small smile and leaning her forehead to his which was the closest they ever got to admitting how they really felt about each other. 

He wanted to kiss her then, before he left to start his new life, one where they could be happy together, and he made a promise to himself that when he came back for her that would be the first thing he would do. 

He could see it now; he would be in some kind of flashy car with the top rolled down, a man grown from the regime and fitness they would teach him in the army and she would come running to him like an angel parting the clouds, like a dream that was finally within reach, and he would kiss her then, so hard it would make up for the time they had lost, the time they had grieved together, it might even make up for that day she nearly died because of him. 

So he left her, that fantasy of coming back to her keeping him going in the months of training, during roll call and exams and the small, clinical portions they would serve him in the military. 

But that day never came. Somewhere between losing himself to the alter that had formed and led a full life separately to his, between hiding Steven from the ugly truth and becoming a mercenary after dropping from the army, he tucked the dream away as a what if, and he didn’t return back to that house where his mother had caused so much hell. 

Not until the second day of her shiva, that was. 

-

“Marc?” He forgot how sweet his name sounded from her lips, and he hated to admit it in the middle of his drunken state, but he’d wished he’d never heard it again in his entire life. 

Because the second his front door opened, and a woman in a long black dress, heels and lace gloves stared back at him with a face that looked similar to a girl he once knew, only a notch between her brows that said she had done nothing but frown for twenty years, he wished he had never seen her again. 

She was beautiful, more beautiful than he ever gave her credit for, yet she looked tired. Sunken. Like she had wept and screamed alongside all the frowning. 

“Marc,” She said it more determined this time, pacing down the stairs to his home, her footsteps rushed and worried, “Are you okay?,” 

He knew he must look like a mess. He hadn’t stopped crying for three days since he got the first phone call from his father in almost two decades, since he’d learned his mother had passed, and he was already a bottle of whiskey deep by the time he’d stepped out the cab onto the street he grew up on. 

He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought she would be there. He guessed she would be far away from this place, just like he had been, in a mansion with a 401k and a dog and a neurosurgeon for a husband. She had always deserved it. 

But here she was, grabbing the bottle out of his hand gently, rubbing a hand over his shoulder like not a day had gone by that they hadn’t seen one another, and it didn’t take him much convincing at all to pull her into a hug he had needed since the day he left. 

“My mum’s dead,” Marc said, sounding like a little boy again when he wept into her neck, squeezing her body to his, and he felt her rubbing his back soothingly. 

“I know, Marc, I’m so sorry,” She hummed, and she smelled like a fancy floral perfume he couldn’t afford to give her before, “I know you must be feeling complicated,”

He nodded, because he couldn’t have put it better himself. He felt complicated. 

“I missed you,” She said, like it was a confession, and he cried harder, his face burying into the crook of her shoulder. 

“I missed you too,” 

“How’s Steven? Is he still around?” She asked, pulling him away to root through her pocket for the pack of tissues she’d kept handy for the day. He took a deep breath, rubbing his sleeved arm over his face to dry it even the slightest. He could feel his cheeks sopping wet from where he had sobbed in the back of the cab like a madman all the way here. 

But she was still fussing over him, and she looked just as pretty as he had remembered her, sitting on his bed that day, if not only a little more tired under her eyes.

Ofcourse she had known about Steven. How else was he supposed to explain the times they would be playing boyfriend-girlfriend together and he would become a different person. 

Sometimes Steven would remember her too, because it didn’t matter to her who he was, she was his best friend either way. He remembered a girl who smelled like summer, sitting on the swings and eating ice lollies together, taking it in turns to push each other, blue tongued and happy. 

“Yeah, sometimes,” He replied quietly, as she handed him the tissues, “He misses you, too,” 

She smiled at him with her lips pressed tightly.

“I take it you’re not coming in?” She said in a careful tone, and he shook his head quickly. 

“No- I just can’t,” He said, tears welling up in his eyes in seconds, and she wrapped him in another hug immediately, soothing his hurt as fast as it had bubbled back up.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, you don’t have to,” She hummed, stroking down his back gently, and he hugged her tightly as if she was the only thing keeping him together. 

He opened his mouth to speak when his front door opened again, and he worried for a second that it was Elias. 

Instead, he saw a girl no older than five emerge in a cute, poofy dress that met her knees, her hair tucked into a neat braid, lace gloves matching her own as she lingered at the doorway. 

And perhaps the thing that struck him the quickest; she was the damn near double of the girl he’d hit in the head with his soccer ball in that very yard. 

“Mommy,” The girl said in a gentle coo, her eyes empathetic as she met his gaze, more empathetic than he knew children could feel. But, he supposed, if she was her daughter then it didn’t surprise him in the slightest. 

His best friend turned, her face smoothing out into something peaceful when she saw her little girl, and he knew then she was born to be a mother. Nothing like his own, nothing like Wendy, and he cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. 

She was a mother. 

“Yes, baby?” She said, half stepping towards her child as the girl stumbled down the first step towards them, and she was quick to swoop her into her grasp and onto her hip. 

“I need to use the bathroom,” The girl said shyly, peeking a glance at him over her mum’s shoulder, and she waved at him with tiny fingers. 

He waved back, even if the sight of her had dumped a bucket of cold water all over his body. 

“Alright, baby. Just wait in the foyer, I’ll come take you in just a second, I’m just speaking to my friend right now,” She said, stroking over the back of the girl’s hair softly, and kissing her chubby cheek. “Is that okay?”

She nodded, and her mum kissed her once more, plopping her back on the top step to direct her back into the house. And they were alone again. 

She looked at him guiltily, stepping back towards him as she fiddled with her sleeves nervously, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t get childcare and I don’t really know anyone in state anymore-”

“No, it-it’s fine,” He stammered, feeling her watching him for his reaction carefully, “What’s her name?” 

“Dalilah,” She replied, rubbing hands up her arms to calm herself. 

“Where’s her dad?” Marc asked, hoping he didn’t sound bitter, but the whiskey made it sound like a bite. 

She shrugged, “He wanted the cars and the house when we split; I wanted her,” She said calmly, like it wasn’t one bomb after another to be dropped on him. 

He knew nothing about her life. He had tried to run away from that promise he’d made her for twenty years, because he knew he would never be good enough for her; that he could never give her the happiness she deserved, even before he had become the Moon Knight. 

At his core, he would rot her, ruin her. He would destroy her.

And yet hearing it was just the two of them alone, he felt like he could take out the piece of shit who ran out on them barehanded and go home to sleep next to her soundly.  

He felt like perhaps, as much grief and anguish as returning back to that house had caused him, perhaps this was his second chance. His chance to be what she needed, to be something good.

He would be so good to them. He would give them everything if she asked. 

“I’m not really in town much, especially with my dad still around,” She said, gesturing to where her yard still stood, full of junk and a dog that had supposedly been kicking strong for two decades, “But I would love to see you again. Lila has school most days so you’re free to come over any day of the week if you want it to be just us; I work at home,” She scribbled an address about two hours away down on a piece of paper, along with her phone number, handing it to his distraught face with a sad smile, somewhat hopeful he would take the olive branch she was shaking his way. 

He took it with a nod, his bottom lip still trembling before he bit it hard enough to force it to stop. He would love to see her, if he would even allow himself something good. If he would just let go of the resentment for everything that reminded him of that time, he could see the two of them healing one another slowly, but surely. 

She could fix him. And he could fix her. The way it had always been with them. 

“Yeah, I’d love that,” Marc said softly, allowing her to grab him tightly one more time, “I really did miss you,” 

She laughed, not properly more like a sad breath out, squeezing him to her, “I loved you so much. I never let you go, you know that?” 

He tried not to sob, almost holding her so maddeningly hard she couldn’t ever leave. 

But he had to let go eventually, and he watched her walk back up the stairs to where his family mourned, her face glinting with something hopeful, holding a flashlight out to him where he was walking around in the dark blindly.

He tried to smile back, though he knew it wouldn’t be the same, wouldn't be truly untouched by the grief he wallowed in. 

And by the time he got back to his hotel room, alone, even more drunk, Khonshu had another job for him that would whisk him away for two weeks. But he kept her number, the piece of paper gripped in his hand tight, like he was determined to keep his promise this time around.

He dialled her number exactly fifteen days later, his body aching, his nose bloodied, but something lighter in his chest at the prospect of seeing her again. The light in his dark, the girl on the swings he’d once pretended to marry during their game of house (the rings had been tiny daisy chains she’d woven together just that morning, their officiant was Randall who could barely ride a bike let alone remember the vows he was supposed to say.) 

Only when the phone got put through, a different woman answered, and the light flickered back out into something cold and dark and vengeful. 

“Oh, oh god, you haven’t heard?” He swallowed thickly, “She was hit by a drunk driver last week picking Lila up from school,” The woman, her cousin, explained, her voice teary and solemn, and he didn’t doubt she’d had to make a thousand of these calls the past few days, “They said it was quick, and Lila went fast so she wasn’t in any pain- and she was only in the ambulance for ten minutes before her heart stopped so she wasn’t hurting long either-” 

But he put the phone down, his eyes wide, his body numb, his chest empty and lonely. 

Because the very last bit of good in him was gone; because everything he touched was cursed and tainted from the offset. 

It took what felt like twenty cups of whiskey for him to black out that night, he knew sleep would evade him, he knew not to even bother trying. And Jake Lockely woke up for him, something mean and hateful in the black of his eyes. 

He didn’t care who, but someone was going to pay for his cielo being taken from them. 

[moneyndior]

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ she said, ‘fuck me like i’m famous.’ i said, ‘okay.’⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH—i have thoughts about brothers best friend!luke

tags/warnings: luke x fem!reader, loser!luke, protective!brother, unnamed brother, secret relationship, outside of chb, reader is drunk/drinking, reader is mentioned to be younger, suggestive content at the end/nearing smut, not proofread.

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ is this fandom dead or what. also i was mad insane for writing the ending to this LMFAOO DONT SMOKE WEED OR THIS IS THE OUTCOME‼️

—brother best friend!luke who was told to stay away from you.

“dude, seriously. stop staring—that’s my little sister.”

“i’m not staring. don’t make it weird.”

luke muttered, lying straight out of his teeth. he clicked his tongue as he crossed his arms, rolling his shoulders.

his eyes were locked onto you as you rushed around the living room, rushing down the halls. you struggled to put on this earring, lips in a straight line before groaning in annoyance.

you looked gorgeous. you were getting ready for god knows what, but luke didn’t need to know to know that you were the type of girl guys like him would kill for.

you noticed his staring and waved quickly, rushing back into your room. he had only a second to wave back. luke tried to make it subtle—but he clearly didn’t try hard enough.

“what did i just say, man?”

“can i not wave to your sister?”

“no.”

your brother snapped before closing his door, throwing the play station controller toward luke, maybe a little harder than he should’ve.

—brothers best friend!luke who does anything to have some alone time with you.

he seen you walk past your brothers room late at night, using your phone flashlight to navigate through the hallway. your brother was asleep on the bean bag chair, the tv remote loosely in his grip.

luke figured you were going to the kitchen, so he obviously followed. he hugged the wall, the kitchen illuminating from the fridge light.

“hey.”

“holy fuck, luke!”

you shout-whispered after jumping. he didn’t mean to scare you—but it sure was funny. he chuckled quietly as he leaned onto the counter, tilting his head. you had a soda in your hand, a piece of bread in your mouth.

“you scared the shit out of me.”

“aw, ‘m sorry.”

“no you ain’t.”

you narrowed your eyes to him, pinching your brows together. a snicker left your throat as you seen luke shrug, chuckling as he tightened his lips.

“yeah. you’re right.”

he admitted with no issue, seemingly taking pride in it. luke adjusted his position, towering over you as he stood with his arms crossed.

“so…what’re you doing up this late, hm?”

“what are you doing up this late? shouldn’t you and my brother be doing whatever stupid stuff you two do?”

“touché. but no—he’s asleep.”

“you poor thing.”

you muttered before turning on your heel, walking toward your room, leaving luke in the dark. he exhaled, his shoulders dropping as he waited an extra minute at hearing you slowly close your door.

luke ran his fingers through his hair, his hands on the counter as he tried to regain his posture.

“fuck.”

he mumbled to himself, trying to get the flush off his face as he went back to how you looked in those shorts and tank top.

—brother’s best friend!luke who takes care of you when you got a little too drunk at a party.

“c’mon, hold my hand.”

“take me out to dinner first, luke.”

you slurred out your words, giggling as you wrapped your arms around his, looking up at him. you looked up at him while fluttering your lashes, lips slightly separated.

if you weren’t drunk, luke would’ve kissed you right then and there.

“i’m taking you home.”

“awh…”

you dragged out, pouting as you stumbled over your own two feet. luke instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist, guiding you. even though you paid no mind to it—luke’s ears were burning hot and his face was bright red.

he leaned you onto his car as he opened the passenger door, guiding you to sit down with an arm still around you.

luke quickly tried to start the car, trying to avoid eye contact with you before he felt you kiss his cheek. you giggled before humming,

“thank you, luke. you’re so sweet, and cute, and smart, and…uhm.”

“mhm. you’re very welcome.”

he mumbled, his voice cracking. luke’s eyebrows knitted together as you giggled again.

“you’re too good f’my brother. god—why do you hang out with him more than me? what does he have that i don’t?”

you pouted, lips twitching as you tugged on his sweatshirt’s sleeve. luke reached out, patting your head as he kept his eyes forward.

“i, uhm—i don’t know.”

“exactly! spend more time with me. please, luke?”

you pleaded, slurring your words once again. luke gulped before nodding, all of his self respect gone. if the girl of his dreams was asking him, luke castellan, to spend time with her—he can’t decline.

—brother’s best friend!luke who can’t seem to keep a secret that well.

“luke, my brother’s in the next room.”

you complained between kisses, luke pressing up against you. his hands were gripping your hips, the mattress below you two squeaking as he pushed you down against it.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry. you just,”

luke paused, letting out a quiet whimper before finishing his sentence.

“you looked so good. i couldn’t help myself. i’m sorry, baby.”

you chuckled at hearing his continuous apologies. luke felt you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“gods, you’re so good to me, y/n.”

he whined, cupping your cheeks with a knee between your legs. luke hooked a finger around the waistband of your shorts, pulling away. he looked at you with pleading eyes, shifting down toward your shorts and back up at you.

“yeah. you can.”

with the given permission, he wasted noses time pulling them down your legs. luke kissed your cheek, trailing down to your collarbone.

“so good—too good f’me.”

[gghostwriter]

Poison Me, I’m Fine

Spencer Reid x Songwriter!Fem!Reader

Summary: Your choice of poison was Spencer Reid. Who knew he would kill you and set you free in the process

Warning: angst with no happy ending

A/n: I feel insane for writing this in one sitting and not editing it. There's no part 2 for this, I just wanted to purge myself of this angst plot that took over me. This is probably the closest I could write to a singer-songwriter reader x spencer, granted she just writes for other pop stars (maybe I'll write some popstar!reader next time idk yet.) Also, 'Free Now by Gracie Abrams' and 'The Black Dog by Taylor Swift' was on repeat when I wrote this so you can spot some inspiration from both here. Hope you like it!

Main masterlist

You don’t know why you settled for less. Why you opted to walk on a blurry tight rope, why you chose a crumbling place to land on, and why you chose to enter a situationship that will end in heartbreak. Actually, scratch that, you do know why. Spencer Reid, that was enough reason for you to put yourself on the line. Or it was until your treacherous, greedy heart wanted more. 

Does she follow like an echo? Like your shadow, you can try, but you can't run

It started with hushed whispers. Your mind slowly poisoning itself with what ifs and scenarios where he was fully yours, just like how he unknowingly owned you—mind, body, and soul. Whispers of—wouldn’t it be nice to visit this museum again with Spencer or he’d love this newly opened vintage bookstore around the block or it’d be nice to see the stars with him right now. You tried to cleanse those thoughts away but that’s the thing, poison that has entered your bloodstream is hard to remove. 

It's a pain that I caught you at a bad time It's a shame that I memorized your outline

It morphed to vivid imagery next—hallucinations so life-like that you found yourself believing it half of the time. Portraits of him and you holding hands as you both walked down the streets, phantom outlines of you together swaying close to muted music, and shadows of you and him twisting in bedsheets. All untrue, except for the latter. You attempt to blink them all away with no success. Your heart reluctant to part with the delusion than face the truth—that he had only offered you his body and nothing else.

Every page that I wrote, you were on it Feel you deep in my bones, you're the current

It seeped out of you next—to your writings, to your works as if your body was doing its best to reject the poison away. To save itself from the nearing death that seemed inevitable in the end. Your poetry, your lyrics, and your art all contain entangled webs of metaphors and colors that lead back to him. Purple streaks on your canvas to represent his favorite, his beloved authors mentioned in your verses, and symbolisms of his career scattered all over—cuffs, guns, shot and everything in between. You tried to pour it all out of you, the dark and sticky emotion of despair and longing covering you and all extensions of you. Everyone noticed the change. The dimming of lights in your eyes and the shadows that threaten to swallow you whole. Everyone noticed—your family, friends, colleagues, and even the pop stars that buy your singles. Everyone except for the one that could save you, Spencer. 

It turned into screams next. It was as if your body gathered all its remaining strength to shout for help or to howl in pain, you’re not sure really. All you’re sure of was that the end was near. The end was coming to free you from everything—from him. The trigger was overhearing him discuss you with his friend and male co-worker during a run-in in his apartment where he had no choice but to introduce you. Six months of pseudo dating him and no one knew you existed.

You excused yourself to the bathroom, wanting to escape the tension emitting from the situation and when you came back, that’s when you heard it. The lethal blow to your already dying heart.

“She seems nice,” his friend, Morgan, commented.

Spencer shrugged. “She’s no Maeve—not as deep but she’s—she’s safe.”

You bit your lip, trying to stop it from quivering lest you whimper out loud the pain his words has caused you.

Donning on a fake smile on your face, you watched as Morgan left with a wave goodbye to you and a casual ‘see you again.’ Not like that would ever come true.

Within seconds, you felt your mask cracking as tears slowly trickled down your face.

“I love you.”

They say the truth sets us free but not this truth. All it did was crash, burn, and pulverize your already precarious stacks of sticks that represent you and him. 

Silence.

“You know, when we first started this—whatever this is—I promised to myself that I wouldn’t fall for you. That this was purely physical, sex,” you sardonically laughed. “But you know what I realized, that you were easy to fall in love with. So easy that I found myself ruined even before I could comprehend where and when it happened.”

“We agreed, didn’t we? That we would tell the truth and stop when feelings are starting to get involved. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

You roughly swiped away the tears. “I didn’t know when it happened, Spencer! I thought if I stuck it out long enough, you’d feel something for me too! But that was foolish of me to believe. I see it now.” 

“See what?” 

You walked towards him, invading his personal space. The same way he did with yours. “That you’re not ready. Honestly I’d prefer if my opponent was standing in front of me. At least I could gauge if I had the chance to win. But with her, she’s gone, Spencer—” you jabbed your pointy finger on his chest, where his heart was. “I’m fighting with a ghost who I can’t even land a hit on. A ghost who haunts your every waking and dreaming moment. Tell me, Spencer, how do I compete with that—when I feel there’s little to no space for me. I exist only in between and in your limbo when you’re craving for a physical companion. How do I win, Spencer? Tell me or should I just throw in the towel?” 

“Y/N—”

His eyes contained the answer and although it wasn’t what you were wishing for, it was what you subconsciously knew you needed to free you. 

You nodded your head. “I guess—I guess this is it, huh. End of the line for us.” 

“I guess so.” 

You gathered your coat, haphazardly strewn on the floor—just like the pieces of your shattered heart and as you stepped out of his threshold, you gave yourself one last chance to memorize his outlines.

“Goodbye, Spencer.” 

And finally, the poison had killed you and had set you free. 

If you feel like fallin', catch me on the way down Never been less empty, all I feel is free now

[mythicalninjas]

Not Just A Miner

Tf.One Orion Pax X Cog!Femme!Cybertronian!Reader

Author's note: I got inspired by a scene from an old brazilian movie called "Ó pai, Ó" (2007) in which the protagonist refutes racist remarks made by his friend. Click here to check it out (I couldn't find the english version, only in my native language). Also, I advise you to watch this movie if you have an opportunity.

Rate/Warnings: NSFW, prejudice, bullying, hate. | SFW, reader defends her friend.

Maybe it would be a good idea to be a prankster in the secret archives of Iacon instead of stealing useless material things. Not that young miner Orion Pax is one. He's just been searching for the truth ever since he became suspicious of the ancient and mysterious story of the 13 Primes. What happened to cause the great protectors of Cybertron to die in such mysterious ways? Why is Sentinel Prime's most beloved government hiding such information? Orion has searched countless files for cycles, and they all end with the same story.

Running from the two angry guards who are twice the size of the cogless miner, Orion's hope is to catch the fast approaching train at the nearest station, which is only 20 meters away from his position.

"Stop, miner!" Darkwing shouted from behind, pushing and dodging bots that were in his way.

KDQ-1, the other guard accompanying Darkwing, flies down from the air and lands directly in front of Orion, blocking his path. "Where do ya think ya're going, miner?" he asked threateningly.

Orion stopped abruptly and raised both arms in surrender. "Wow, hey!" He steps back, but feels Darkwing's sturdy body blocking his path. Their evil giggles make Orion feels shivers.

"So, Orion Pix." Darkwing said sarcastically, pushing Orion toward KDQ-1 "Where were we?".

KDQ-1 laughs. "What do you think, Darkwing? Should we pick him up and throw him from that top?" he pointed at a building next to them.

The brute guard disagrees. "Nah, it would be no fun, dull. Let's rip him apart right here." Both guards laugh.

Orion chuckles nervously. "You guys are creative, huh?"

KDQ-1 grabs the miners' left arm and pull him near. "So, miner. What do you prefer?".

Orion spots the train leaving. Now he's cooked.

Darkwing grabs the other arm. "Why do you want him to choose, KDQ-1? Miners don't have choices or opinion. They only obey." Both laughs again. "They are nothing but-"

"They're nothing but what?" You interjected suddenly, causing both guards to drop Orion in fright and backing off. You took it as oportunity to stand between your friend and the guards.

Orion moves quickly behind you as soon as notice it was you.

You could feel his hands gripping your right leg as if to make sure no one takes him away. How cog-bots can be so foolish to mistreat someone who can't even defend themselves? Even more so in public? Anger boils up your circuits.

"Come on, Darkwing. I want to hear it." you confront. "What were you going to say about him and other miners?"

The brute bot and his co-worker looked at each other. KDQ-1 was the first to speak. "We were just having a warm talk. No big deal."

"I don't think that bullying someone is no big deal." You reply calmly, but firmly.

"This is no of your business, Y/N." Darkwing shouted. "Leave us alone, now!"

"Out of question!" You answered. "You must have power over miners, but not over me. You cannot treat cogless-bots badly just because-"

The brute cut in. "Are you really want to teach me to how be a good chief?" he took a fews steps toward you, making Orion shudder. The young miner doesn't want a hand-to-hand fight to start. He doesn't want his friend to be hurt by the stubbornness of others. Thanks Primus that his brother-in-arms, D-16, is safe in the train going to mines right now.

"It seems you do need." You answered, not taking your eyes off him, ready to fight back.

KDQ-1, sensing that things aren't going well and knowing his co-worker actions, puts his hand on Darkwing's shoulder, trying to stop him, but the mean bot moves it away.

"Well, well. A "hero" protecting weaks bots?" he teased, stopping halfway.

"Don't forget that the weaks bots are those who keep our Energon reserves full. Don't forget you have Energon flowing through you because of them!"

"They are just miners. Damn miners! Nothing but dumb robots!"

"Yes, they are miners, but don't miners have eyes? Huh? Don't they have hands and heads and feelings? Don't they need the same Energon to live?" Your voice grows louder and louder. "Do they not suffer from the same diseases and need the same health care as we do?! When they feel exhausted after countless shifts, don't they need some rest just like us?! When you beat the shit out of them, don't they feel pain?! When they risk their lives down there in the mines, don't they die, too? You take advantage of them in everything because they are treated like slaves in our society, son of a bitch!"

An eerie silence fell over the open space. All that could be heard was the sound of the wind blowing off the huge buildings and the metallic sound of some construction machinery in the distance. Everyone who was passing by and paying attention to the small commotion now remained silent at Y/N's reaction, some jaw-dropped; even KDQ-1.

You were breathing heavily, as if your unimaginable reaction had been an impossible struggle to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. And you are willing to continue this discussion if necessary.

Darkwing glared angrily at Orion, who was still behind you. "Good for you, no-cog." the brute commented, ominously. "If I find you in the archives again, you'll suffer. And so will your little gray friend."

Orion's bright blue optics grew wide by his words. No... He cannot endanger someone he admires the most, someone he considers a brother. Darkwing is far more evil than he could have imagined. Suddenly, he feels you moving and blocking the threatening eye-contact between him and Darkwing.

Darkwing lifted his face up toward you. "And it will be a moment you won't be there, Y/N". He, then, was led by his co-worker through the crowd, away from there. All the other cog-bots returned to their tasks, murmuring about what they had just witnessed.

You sighed with relief that the situation was over without developing into something worse. Turning around, you realize that Orion also feels the same way. "Are you okay, Orion?" You asked softly as crouch down. "Did they do something else to you?".

Orion rubs his arm left arm. "Just a bit sore. Nothing to worry about it."

You lift an "eyebrow". His expression of pain was evident on his face as he try to move his arm with difficulty. "They've made a mess right there. Come along. I'll take you to a doctor to fix it."

"Oh, no need for it. I'm ok-" he grows by pain.

You smiled down at him. "Orion, don't resist. Let's go. And also... Don't put yourself in danger ever again... You know what Darkwing is capable of. Don't underestimate him."

"Yeah, I'm sorry... But, you know why I still insist on it. Something isn't right about Cybertron's past before Sentinel Prime's reign".

"I understand you Orion, but it doesn't mean you have to be chased by the authorities all the time. I don't want to imagine what would happen if they get you in a wrong moment." You sighed and watch the giant concrete jungle landscape. "I won't always be there to protect you."

Orion remained silent for a few minutes while the two of them stared at the cityscape before them. The miner is indeed quite stubborn, and that has consequences, especially for those who are not to blame. Rules and protocols are not even close to something he would follow. Orion doesn't like that, and it is what makes him different. Something that makes him look beyond work.

"I promise." he finally speaks. "I promise to not get in trouble."

You knew that Orion would never stop his extreme adventures.

And that defines him.

Damn, he can't wait to meet up with D again and tell him everything that happened and how brave you were. They knew that you, their best friend, are a hero. Someone they could trust their life with.

☆☆☆☆☆

Reblog to support and let more people read my work 🫶🥰

[byechristopher]

soooo it’s ur biggest fan here 🤣! so idea. chris is a hockey boy. i need something angsty or something

also a fluff idea reader is a dancer and chris is hockey player and reader has a competition the same place chris has a tournament. and it’s just them supporting each other

although just do what ever you want but hockey chris>>> i feel like you’d do him justice

Jealous guy.

– CHRIS STURNIOLO ANGST & FLUFF.

Author's note: I worked hard on this because it's for my biggest fan. You know I love my angsty shit, so I took your idea and combined it with mine. I hope y'all like it. 🤍 Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Ps. I'm the kind of bitch that gets all giddy and shit when Chris says "my girl" in my OWN FIC. Okay.

Warnings: not really a warning but mentions of fighting and a lil bloody lip. Mwuah. Didn't proofread, sorry!

[ YOU ]

"Okay, and what the hell do you want me to do about it?" I almost scream, turning around to look at Chris.

He was fuming, to say the least. His hair was messy, he didn't have a shirt on but wore his usual gray sweatpants. His glare was deadly.

"Uhm, I don't know, tell him to not send fucking flowers to OUR apartment?!" he shouts, throwing his phone on the couch. The irony in his voice is more than evident.

I couldn't believe it when I saw it either Honestly, I never expected him to go to such lengths. Despite being just a co-worker, he's become a relentless presence in my life. Whether it's showing up everywhere at work, bringing me coffee, or bombarding me with emails – it's relentless. The boundary crossed when he managed to find my address; literally searching for my goddamn address and sending me flowers? That is wild. Of course I told Chris about it, but he acts as if it is my fault this psycho found our address.

"I don't even know his phone number, Chris! How would I ever know that he'd search for the address and send me flowers?" I sigh, still very angry.

"I'll beat the shit out of him, I swear.. the game starts in less than an hour, fucking hell.." he says, checking his watch, "how the fuck am I ever going to play when I'm like this?"

I don't reply to him – he really makes it sound like it's my fault and despite my initial enthusiasm for the game, it's waned due to his blame game. Still, I don't want to come off as a heartless bitch, especially on the eve of his crucial match. So, I grab my phone, wallet, and keys before heading over to him.

"I really hope you win." I whisper, placing a soft peck on his cheek before exiting the bedroom and shortly after, leaving the apartment.

[ CHRIS ]

She left. Fucking hell. I always do bullshit like this – I can't keep my big mouth shut and now she's not even coming to the game. I really needed her in this one. But that is my own fault.

In the quiet solitude of our apartment, I try to prepare for the upcoming game; amidst the dim glow of our living room, I meticulously don my team jersey, each movement an attempt to shift my focus. Taking a moment, I inhale deeply, trying to be as calm as possible before the game.

With a determined resolve, I grab my gear, the familiar scent of the hockey bag triggering a surge of adrenaline. As I step outside, the crisp evening air hits me, momentarily clearing my mind. The journey to the rink is a silent contemplation, the distant echoes of the city fading as I immerse myself in mental preparation.

Arriving at the arena, I feel the familiar anticipation. The ambient sounds of the crowd and distant echoes of skates on the ice envelop me, grounding me in the moment. I exchange nods and greetings with teammates. The locker room door creaks open, revealing the sanctum where emotions are set aside, and the game becomes paramount. Amidst the hum of chatter and the clatter of equipment, I sigh; I really want her to come. I still have hope, although I doubt it. The tension lingers as I tighten my skate laces, and Jake, my teammate and friend, notices my distraction.

"You seem off, Chris. Everything okay?" Jake asks.

"Yeah.." I look up at him, and he seems like he already knows, "..just had a big fight with my girl before I left. Can't shake it off," I confess.

Jake pats me on the shoulder. "I understand, man. I wish I could say something but you gotta leave it behind for now. We've got a game to win. Sort things out later."

On the ice, rival players almost immediately target me, seeming to be aware of my vulnerable state; it must be that fucking expression of mine. I can't hide it. During the first period, a smirking opponent skates by, taunting, "trouble at home, Chrissy? Should focus on that instead of the game." he smiles.

Enraged, I retaliate with a forceful check, earning myself a penalty, "keep your temper in check, Chris!" warns the referee.

In the penalty box, I mutter under my breath, "I can't fucking believe this."

As the match progresses, rival players intensify their attempts to provoke me; we've played with those fuckers before, and if anyone has seen me in a game, they know very well the only thing that can affect the way I play is her. Undeterred, I channel my anger into my plays, determined to win this goodamn game while internally wondering if she came to see me after all.

In a breakaway, I find myself one-on-one with the opposing goalie. With a swift deke, I send the puck into the net, equalizing the score. The crowd erupts, and my teammates cheer.

Rival players persist in their attempts to get under my skin. During a tense moment, an opposing forward sneers, "look, your girlfriend's probably enjoying the show. Make sure to not embarass her again."

After that, I almost lose it, and in a heated moment, a rival defenseman delivers a high stick to my face, splitting my lip. Blood drips onto the ice as I stumble backward. The referee signals a penalty, but the damage is done.

Undeterred by the bleeding, I clench my fists, "you think that's going to stop me? You fucking coward!" I almost scream to make sure that fucking asshole hears me.

The game continues, and during a power play, I push through the pain. I charge towards the net, ignoring the throbbing pain in my lip – the only thing on my mind is her and making her proud.

Fueled by a surge of anger and determination, I respond with a spectacular goal that secures the lead for my team. I skate past the jeering opponent, acknowledging the crowd's cheers.

As the final buzzer sounds, signaling our victory, I finally spot my girlfriend in the stands. My heart beats faster. A mix of emotions plays across her face, and I realize the significance of my performance. It's like no one else is around, just us and that is the only thing that matters. I keep eye contact with her, even when my teammates are cheering for me and I smile, even with that bloody lip – she smiles back and I want to kiss her so bad.

[ YOU ]

When I saw Chris' bloody lip, I almost lost it – the restraint within me, resisting the urge to jump in and shove my fingernails into that asshole's eye sockets, is beyond words. I was well aware they were deliberately provoking Chris; his simmering anger was very evident. The recklessness in his gameplay during the initial stages of the game made it even more obvious that he was more focused on what they said than the actual game.

I kept yelling his name at the top of my lungs, unsure if he could hear, but I desperately wished for his victory, especially after that intense fight. Witnessing him wince from the pain now and then, I felt an overwhelming urge to cry.

As he scored the decisive goal and secured the victory, I couldn't contain my excitement, jumping up and down. It brought back memories of our younger days when I always cheered him on during his games.

When all of this was over and I just stood there, I could see him looking at me. His gaze finally finds me in the midst of the crowd, and my heart feels like it might leap out of my chest. Everything else fades away, leaving only him in my line of sight.

I notice all of the team leaving, probably going to the locker rooms and I quickly head to the exit door.

In the dimly lit corridor outside of where the locker rooms are, he finally comes outside and spots me waiting there, my expression a mix of anticipation and apprehension.

"Hey," he calls out, his voice carrying a hint of both excitement and apology.

I look up, meeting his eyes, "hey," a subtle smile playing on my lips, "you played amazing out there."

Still trying to catch his breath, he wraps his arms around me in a tight hug, keeping me close for a while. We are not saying anything, I just hold him close, my fingers buried in his sweaty hair.

"Thank you so much for coming." he whispers.

"I would never lose any of your games. Even when you're being an asshole." I smile, which I am sure he can hear when I'm speaking.

"I am so sorry. I didn't mean to put the blame on you. I just.. I am fucking jealous. I don't want any other guy near you." he keeps his voice as low as possible.

"Shhh, I know. Let's take care of that lip first and then you can apologise to me all you want." I pull away but he doesn't let go of course – I cup his cheek and take out some tissue that I keep in my bag for emergency with my free hand. I gently pat the skin, trying to clean the blood as much as I can without hurting him.

His eyes soften, "seriously, baby. Thanks for coming. I always play better when you're cheering for me."

I look up at him, my gaze softening as well as I cup both of his cheeks now, "I know. I am so, so proud of you. You were amazing, as always." I whisper, leaning in to play the softest kiss on his little wound.

"God, I love you." he whispers, wrapping his arms around my waist, hugging me close to him.

"I love you too."

[drawlody]

My list of Adam ships♡ n my opinion bout them (also fics rec :D) (old)

Adam x Luicfer (Adamsapple/Duitarduck) 10/10

Need i say more:)))??!?! started out as a "haha funny slip-up ship" to "hey they got really good angst potential". The friends/lovers to enemies to lovers is STRONG with this one n i am eating up everything i could found on ao3. Smth bout this macho-ass man finally getting to stay back n not take charge for once feel nice, also princess Adam supermacy wooooo. Whoever came up with the ship name i applaud u cause that's like a 3 layers name(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

It's not an Adamsapple fic without Adam having at least 1 mental breakdown n Lucifer have his guilt eating him alive:)))

Very fucked up torture but i swear it worth the pain:D The dove is so dead it start to rot so plz read the tags properly (plz check out the AngeliaDark other works too they got good shit)

This one have a splits so check out both the fics (beware the author have a skrewed sense of what is considered wholesome:))))

I didnt think a smut scene could be this sad

Adam x Lute (Guitarspear/Guardrock) 10/10

Litteraly my first Hazbin ship, assholes in love is an underrated dynamic we desperately need more off:))) That with a dash of evil dude x loyal subordinate (which i havent seen since the Deathglare days) n opposite attract (look they have one main thing in common is that their extreme bloodthirst, other than that she's stricter than ur mom n he's lazier than the Sloth ring itself but that the beauty of it no? He convince her to chill tf out n not to burst a blood vessel, she keep him on track n make sure Sera dont come on their asses)

They're just being silly enabling each other terrible behaviour n i love that for them (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) Litteral besties i tell ya

Heavy non-con shit involving Val but Lute will revenge our boi i promised u that

Cool idea n they r just made for each other damn

First hazbin fic i read which is a really cool smut:D

Adam x Micheal (we need a ship name people ) (update: it's Songbird/Guitarhero) 10/10

I like how we dont even got a proper comfirmation of Micheal design/personality yet the ship is here already ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ( im using the Nakariiale's design as a base here love their design)

Hit me with that rebound love x "u look like my ex so im using u as a replacement but ill fall for the real u eventually" x co-workers in heaven. I'm thinking smth along the line of "after Lucifer fucked off with Lilith, Micheal became Adam guardian angel n they just hang out" ya feel me here? (✿◕‿◕✿)

Shout out to Bloog_b for dragging me into this ship:DDD also im on the Adam x the archangels ship as a "gotcha" to Lucifer of sort. Like bitch u stole my wives imma steal your brotherS

Look it's Adamsapple endgame but trust me u will be feed well on this ( u know how good u gotta be for people to ditch the main ship?)

I'm giving yall 4 fics here cause i can only found 4 rn(._. )

this one is uhh non-con so beware

Micheal is indeed Adam guardian angel in this one:D

Adam x Eve (Flowertunes) 8/10

I dont care what yall said they love each other throughout Eden n Earth , might have a falling out in heaven but that doesnt change the fact that they were once IN LOVE. Honestly why cant we just have a couple that have the same bright-eyed innocence like one another.I refuse to believe Eve like willingly cheat on Adam with malicious intent n all, simply she was indeed ''tricked'' or just not fully understand the sistuation, n Adam love her way too much to think that she would do that to him like Lilith. Hell the dude was heartbroken after L left , starting the abandonment issues, so he would have cling to Eve, doing everything so that he aint alone again, even if that mean leaving Eden

Honestly it pisses me off that the Adam/Eve tag on ao3 most of the time is just 1 dialouge between them back when Eve bit the apple n thats it no elaboration on the couple whatsoever >:(((

Lots of switcharoos

sinner eve woooo

look its hard trynna find a fic focusing on them ok?

Adam x St. Peter (Guitargreeter (bet ya didnt see that coming:))) 7/10

Base on this fanfic alone Joe my dude u r on the path of becoming THE Adam crack-ship writer n i am here for this:)))) just so u wait this dude gonna whip out a AdamxNifty , AdamxHusk fic later on ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

From within the fic itself the ship its 2 bros in love with homophobia standing in the way >:( also when did we have a name?!?!?!?

I just like Adam x anyone in heaven alright:D like bro famous n he got that ancient rizz, u telling mr he cant bag a hottie or 2-100+ hmm?

Adam x Alastor (Angelicradio) 8/10

I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT ABOUT THEM THAT I SHIP I JUST DO φ(゜▽゜*)♪ i blame YOU honestly rn this ship is either Adam found Al after the fight n they make a deal or they're in heaven n they chillin this ship is confusing:D

They're angels on heaven

Adam gone back into eden n do shit differently

This is both Adam/Eve n Adam/Alastor kinda

Adam x Alastor x Lucifer (Angelicradioapple/ Charlie's dads (only me call them that lol)) 9/10

''Hey Charlie u know how u r sad that your mother left? Wellllllll i got you 2 new dads suprise:DDDD''

Look 3 miserable men who hate each other + hell's greatest dad + my love for Dadam = Messy ass old men yaoi :DDDD n it work perfectly with Alastor Asexuality too!!! Like Adam n Lucifer could fuck each other brains out before Al joining in for the cuddles lol

Chaos ensue

Not exactly a love triangle but a love corner but hey we barely got food here :D

I cant believe how hot this shit is lol

Adam x Eve x Lilith x Lucifer (Eden poly/ applecore?) 8/10

They could have been all married to each other(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻ But as much as i go "OooOooo Poly yay'' i just cant vibe with EvexLucifer, like the cheating vibes is wayyyyyyyyy too much i just cant man . I mean with the interpetation that Lucifer came to Eden to hang out with the humans they all know eachother, they're a throuple yes but BUT when Eve came into the picture it was only with Adam n him only so the other 2 is ehhhh. Im fine with EvexLilith cause im seeing it happening later, not hidden from Adam while LuciferxEve got that deception going on .So uhhh in this ship they're more like bestie than lovers to me¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also AdamxLilith is an underrated pairing like everytime i saw this applecore thing going on these 2 r at most tolerate each other like cmonnnnn we already twist this to hell n back, why cant we make it so their arguement was a petty non-malicious one n they still cares for each other hmm???

They're one happy family

IDK what to tell u bittersweet reunion n loving family is the only typa fic u get with this ship

Not that im complaining i need this wholesomeness

Adam x Mammon (Adammon/Madam/Greedyguitar/ 1st chirstmas.... hasnt had an offical name yet) 10/10

They r litteraly same person different font idk what to tell u. More insults thrown around than Guitarspear but they're pretty similar. Adam is just " sinners suck ass but this dude is the worst in the best way". Also they're both big bois (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧ , they love towering over others

I'm sorry but there r barely BARELY

any fics of them :(

The art side is more plentiful tho :D

Adam x Angel Dust (Holydust/guitardust) 5/10

THEY ARE BESTIES YOUR HONOUR n that the exact reason why i cant see them be together as a couple 100%, like the shit-talking bff vibes r wayyyy too strong XD Angel finally got someone who have the same vulgar humour as him n if Adam got married in hell Angel would 100% be his best bitch of honour (≧∀≦)ゞq(≧▽≦q)

They're best friends who have casual no-string attached sex that is ACTUALLY no-string attached:)))

I came to ship them due to those "What if they're co-workers under Val' scenarios ive been seeing on Tumblr

I got like 1 fic on ao3 i mean if u r looking for just platonic friendship between them then rest asure most Adam's redemption fics have that

I got 1 fic on tumblr

Adam x Charlie (Charadam/Guitarprincess) 5/10

U know this ship give me a pretty bad first impression since a good chunk of the fics r either heavy non-con shit or lean wayyyyy to much into the daddy kink, ya know how Charlie got suppose daddy issues n all that jazz?:))) yeah that... that

But after seeing the art side of this ship im chillin with them now, since the art r pretty wholesome, usually having them decked out in punk-rock clothings hanging out. It's a big "Fuck you" to Lucifer n i live for these mf argueing ╰(*°▽°*)╯

So uhhh stay away from the fics if ya want an actual functional couple instead of wtv messed up shit we got there:))) But here's a fic anyway, the only one where it feel bearable n actual trynna go into said messed up relationship i already warn you

We got cracks like Guitarmaid (AdamxNifty), Valadam (AdamxVal) which i dont have enough materials to decied, Classicalrock (AdamxSera) sound interesting but also havent found anything , Guitarhalo (AdamxEmily) is an unexpected find, find i deem them to be more familial than romantic so we'll see if there's a fic good enough to convince me

Edit:i forgot to add Blitzo like Mammon already there why did i forgot

Adam x Blitzo (i dont think anyone even ship this but me:)) 7/10

I cant find a single fic where they has anything more than a 1 nightstand n 1 interaction where they hit it off , i live off imagination alone (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) but like fr fr they would match so well, like their bloodlust n general jerkiness would make them the 3rd asshole x asshole ship on this list :DDDD

Tho as much as i wanna see them go further i feel like an on-n-off relationship/friends with benefits fit em more ya know ( *^-^)ρ(*╯^╰) If ya have any fic but the 2 here that have them interact lemme know cause a bitch need food :)

This is a lot of tag(._. )

[yunholic-jongholic]

Love In a Divorce [Part 1] | C.JH x Reader

SUMMARY | In a strained 10-year marriage, you and your husband decide to get a divorce due to growing tensions. While meeting with your divorce attorney, you unexpectedly develop feelings for him. As the divorce process unfolds, you find yourself in an intimate relationship with the attorney, complicating the situation as you navigate your separation from your ex-husband.

PAIRINGS | Jongho x Fem!Reader

RATING | Mature, 18+

CONTENT WARNINGS | Smoking, Drinking, Arguing, Strained Marriage (Nothing really else...)

WORD COUNT | 2.3k

AUTHOR NOTE | This will be 2-4 parts of a story. This is the first chapter! I am not sure how far to keep this going but they are short chapters. This chapter is more introducing the plot/characters/setting/etc. There are no spicy scenes in this chapter but there are still things to be cautious of. Minors, please keep out. Also, my friends in my group chat helped me with this one so shout out to my fellow co-workers on this! - You don't really meet Jongho until the END of the chapter... but I promise next chapter there will be more Jongho moments. ,'3c

•

It was late afternoon, and as you prepared to leave work, a sense of reluctance about going home lingered. With a sigh, you stood up and gathered your belongings.

"I'm heading home—I need to cook dinner tonight since my husband and I haven't had a proper meal together in a while," you explained to your manager before stepping out of the office. You reached your car and drove home, feeling a weight settle in your chest. As you pulled into the driveway, you noticed your husband was already home. The last thing you wanted was to go inside and face him, but lingering outside or sitting in the car forever wasn’t an option.

"Hey, honey. How are you?" you asked, forcing a smile as you walked past him. He barely acknowledged you, too absorbed in the political talk show blaring from the TV.

You call out his name again, trying to get his attention. This time, he spared you a brief glance before shrugging and muttering, "Meh," before turning back to the screen. You rolled your eyes at his indifference, deciding not to push it. Instead, you headed to the kitchen and started preparing dinner, settling on a simple chicken and veggie dish. As you were cooking your husband ended up saying he was going out.

"Are you serious? I'm already cooking us dinner," you snapped, frustration lacing your voice as you shot him an angry glare. "Sorry, I promised my friends I'd be there for them tonight," he replied curtly, grabbing his coat without meeting your eyes.

You watched him walk out the front door, the sound of it closing echoing in the empty room. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you felt your heart sink, a hollow ache settling in your chest. Deep down, you’d always known this relationship wasn’t working, and the desire to leave grew stronger with each passing day. But the harsh reality lingered—you had nowhere else to go.

You sat down to eat alone, the silence around you louder than any words could be. After cleaning up, you went straight to bed, the emptiness of the room matching the hollow ache in your chest. Lying there, staring at the ceiling, you felt the weight of heartbreak pressing down on you—not just from the relationship itself, but from how much you had let it break you.

Just as you were on the verge of sleep, your phone buzzed on the nightstand, its sudden vibration cutting through the quiet. You glanced at the screen. Who could be calling at nearly midnight? Only two people came to mind—your husband or your friend, Yeosang.

"Hey! I was calling to ask if you're still interested in going to celebrate Yunho's birthday tomorrow. I saw your name on the RSVP, but I wanted to check if you’ve got a present for him, or should I pick one up?" Yeosang’s cheerful voice filled the quiet room, a stark contrast to the heaviness in your heart.

You sighed deeply, sitting up in bed as you wiped away the tears that had welled up, a lingering reminder of the thoughts swirling in your mind about your broken relationship with your husband. The sound of Yeosang’s voice felt like a small anchor, pulling you back from the tide of your emotions, even if just for a moment.

"Yeah, I got him a present. I might go… If not, I can still drop it off and wish Yunho a happy birthday," you muttered under your breath, your voice shaky as you fought back the tears threatening to spill.

Silence settled on the line, heavy and lingering, until Yeosang finally spoke, his voice soft and careful. "Is it your husband again...?" You barely managed to whisper, "Yes," your heart tightening with the admission.

Yeosang sighed, the sound of him sinking onto his couch faintly echoing through the phone. The quiet between you wasn’t uncomfortable—it was filled with unspoken understanding, like he knew exactly how to hold space for you without needing to fill it with words.

"If you want, I know someone who might be able to help you," Yeosang said gently, the faint sound of a pen scratching against paper in the background. "His name is Choi Jongho. He’s one of my closest friends—we went to college together. He’s a divorce attorney. If you’re ever interested in… you know." His voice trailed off, ending with an awkward cough, as if unsure how to say the words without making it harder for you.

You went silent, staring at the dim glow of your phone screen, the weight of his offer sinking in. Divorce. The idea lingering in the back of your mind like an unwelcome shadow. But now, hearing it spoken out loud, having an actual option, made it feel more real—both terrifying and oddly relieving. You didn’t know how to navigate it, how to start, but maybe… maybe this was the first step.

"A divorce attorney doesn’t sound bad… Can I get his work number?" you asked quietly, the words feeling heavy yet strangely liberating as they left your lips. Yeosang didn’t hesitate. "Yeah, of course. It’s xxx-xxx-xxxxx," he said gently, his tone filled with quiet support.

You reached for a pen and a scrap of paper, scribbling down a simple note: "Yeosang’s friend xxx-xxx-xxxx." Staring at the words for a brief moment, you felt a flicker of something—hope, maybe, or the faintest sense of control.

"Thank you, Yeosang," you whispered, your voice softer now, touched with both gratitude and vulnerability. "Anytime," he replied, his voice warm, steady. "You’re not alone in this." He hangs up and you smile feeling loved by your friend's help. You put the note aside underneath your phone, going underneath the covers to fall asleep.

The next morning, you woke up beside your husband, his soft snores filling the quiet room. Letting out a sigh, you quietly got out of bed, gathered your clothes for the day, and headed to the bathroom for a shower. After rinsing off the lingering weight of your thoughts, you got dressed, mentally preparing yourself for the day ahead.

Needing space to think, you decided to stop by a coffee shop. The warm, bustling atmosphere felt like the perfect place to make a private call to Yeosang’s friend, the attorney. You grab coffee and sit down inside where there are really no people, just 1 college student doing schoolwork and the baristas making orders and cleaning the shop. You finally sit down and call the number Yeosang gave you with a right away pick up.

"Hello, this is Choi Jongho's office," a young woman’s voice greeted you through the phone. You hesitated for a moment, your heart racing, but then took a deep breath and finally spoke. "Yes, hello. I’d like to initiate a divorce," you sighed, the words feeling heavy yet strangely relieving as they left your mouth. There was a brief pause on the other end, followed by the sound of rapid typing. "Of course, I can help you schedule an appointment with Mr. Choi," she replied professionally.

She asked for your name, contact information, and a few basic details, typing quickly as you provided the answers. When she inquired about your availability, you explained the urgency of your situation, and she managed to book you for two consecutive days. After confirming the details, you hung up, staring at your phone for a moment, realizing you’d just taken the first real step toward reclaiming your life.

After leaving the coffee shop, you got into your car and dialed Yeosang’s number, your fingers trembling slightly as you pressed call. When he picked up, you wasted no time.

"I scheduled the appointment with your friend, Choi Jongho," you said, your voice a mix of nerves and quiet determination. Yeosang responded with soft words of encouragement, his voice a comforting presence on the other end. As you continued driving home, you added, "I'll still come to Yunho’s party. I’ll probably be late since I need to do some laundry when I get home, but I should be there this evening!"

Yeosang recommended that you should start seeing people again, and that he would help you out. You were just of silent thinking about it but only felt you should just have time to yourself.

Pulling into the driveway, you ended the call and took a deep breath before heading inside. The familiar scent hit you the moment you opened the door—a sharp, stale reminder that your husband had been smoking in the house again, despite the countless times you’d asked him not to. You glanced toward the living room, where he sat, eyes glued to the TV, completely indifferent to your arrival. The weight of your decision felt even more justified in that moment.

"Hey, I've told you not to smoke in the house, it is unhealthy, and it smells really bad." You sigh angrily going to the room to get the dirty laundry to wash it. You see your husband ignore you and lights another cigarette. "Hey!" You shout this time throwing a dirty sock at him. Your husband gets up and immediately yells at you.

"I don't care; I own this house. You just live under my care because you’re married to me," he barked angrily, throwing a sock back in your direction with careless disdain. You felt a surge of frustration rise in your chest, the weight of his words hitting hard—but this time, you didn’t hold back.

"Oh, so that’s all I am to you? Just married to you, with no say, no value beyond that? I don’t even have a right to this property?" you snapped back, your voice sharp with defiance. The room grew tense, the argument hanging in the air like a storm ready to break. But something inside you felt different—stronger, like you were no longer afraid of the fight because you knew it wouldn’t define you anymore. Your husband was about to blow up but that's when you decided to leave the house. You left and drove straight to Yeosang's house to help him get ready for the party, also just to get away from your husband.

"Hey! Sorry, I decided to come early," you said with a smile as Yeosang opened the door and pulled you into a warm hug. "I hope you’re okay—you look a little stressed," he sighed, concern evident in his voice. You gave a small nod, forcing a reassuring smile.

"Yeah, I am, but it’s okay. Starting tomorrow, hopefully, things will start to change," you whispered softly, a hint of hope flickering in your words. Yeosang nodded in agreement, offering you a comforting look before turning to set out the food. You help him set up the party and once people start showing up, you find yourself calming down and finally relaxing with your friends.

Finally, Yunho arrives, and you all celebrate his birthday. You end up meeting Jongho who was at the party since he is technically Yunho and Yeosang's friend.

"Hey Yunho, happy birthday." Jongho smiles and hands Yunho his gift. Yunho smiles back and hugs Jongho which he automatically gets pulled into the hug and just awkwardly stands there. "Okay that's enough affection." Jongho laughs nervously, while Yunho is laughing cheerfully. "Oh! You must meet our best lawyer friend! Jongho!" Yunho chirps at you and pushes Jongho towards you.

"Oh hello." He waves and you wave back greeting yourself. "I am Y/N. I went to college with both of these losers." You tease Yunho and Yeosang. Yunho huffs rolling his eyes. "It's my birthday, you shouldn't be talking about me like that!" He pouts and you smile laughing softly at his response.

"Nice to meet you Y/N." Jongho smiles at you. Yeosang and Yunho leave you both to talk and you basically ask Jongho a few questions being casual.

"So, what made you decide to become a lawyer?" you asked, genuinely curious. There was something about Jongho’s relaxed demeanor that caught your attention—maybe it was the casual way he dressed, which felt different from the typical, buttoned-up image you had of attorneys.

"Well," Jongho began, reaching for a glass from the table and taking a small sip before continuing, "I’ve always been good at giving relationship advice and standing up for my friends. I’ve also had a strong interest in the laws surrounding relationships—offering guidance, helping couples navigate complex issues, and representing them in court. Most of the time, I work with women, helping them get out of toxic relationships with their ex-husbands."

You smiled, genuinely admiring his words and the passion behind them. "That’s really kind of you to do," you said softly, feeling a new level of respect for him and the work he dedicated himself to. You cough out as you finally tell him what has been going on, "I know you aren't working right now and don't expect anything. But I am scheduled to have a meeting with you tomorrow morning, I am too having issues with my husband and been wanting a way out..." You mumble the ending part.

"Oh, that's okay. Well, it was nice meeting you early. I am sorry about your relationship with your husband." He sits up taking another sip of his drink. "It's nothing really." You smile and soon change the conversation asking how he met Yunho and Yeosang. As the day went on it was already nighttime. You decided to head home thanking Yeosang for inviting you over and saying your last happy birthday wishes to Yunho.

You arrive home seeing your husband's car gone again, you sigh and go inside just wanting to go to bed. You finally go to bed and just hope tomorrow will finally change for the better.

•

Sorry, there is really nothing here yet. LMAO I wanted this to be more introducing Y/N, Y/N's Husband, Yunho, Yeosang and Jongho! I promise the next chapter will have more Jongho scenes and maybe some spicy content... MAYBE...

[tea-cat-arts]

(Disclaimer: this is a vent post)

Jiang Cheng discourse is frustrating because I feel like it always boils down to a debate on whether he's a good or bad person when like-

Such a central idea throughout all her books is that everyone has the capacity for good and evil. The cannibal who's been sewing political discourse for centuries is also a halfway decent dad, the prince who once tried to save all the common people ended up turning on them and releasing a plague, the guy who schemed and killed his way to chief of cultivation sacrificed himself to keep his best friend safe, the world's most dedicated internet hater also improves the lives of almost everyone around him... trying to force this narrow frame of good and bad people on her stories just doesn't work.

When it comes to Jiang Cheng in particular, I feel like the context for his actions gets completely thrown out the window in favor of focusing on the ways in which he was an asshole, but Jiang Cheng isn't really in a position where he can afford to be kind to everyone. The man has a whole clan to watch out for- as a kid, he couldn't just stand up to the Wens because every action he took would be interpreted as a reflection of the Jiang Clan's stance (and they were not in a position to go to war with the Wens). As an adult, he thought he couldn't afford to stand up for either wwx or the remaining Wens because it would risk putting his very freshly reformed clan who just finished a war in conflict with 3 other major clans. He is shown to have the capacity for love and the capacity for kindness (ex: getting all the hiers out of the cave and running all the way back to Yunmeng for help, putting himself in danger to draw the Wen scouts away from wwx, co-parenting Jin Ling with Jin Guangyao, being an attack dog against anyone who hurts his family, guarding wwx from dogs as a kid, standing up to his mom and asking her to stop when she berates wwx), but he rarely has opportunities where he can just follow all of his own values without it putting his clan at risk. I also feel like the ways in which he's kind get dismissed because he doesn't act nice. Like, he's not willing to put on a smile or be chatty like either Lan Xichen or Jin Guangyao. He's an anxious, rage-filled, asshole who hates losing, and that is on display at all times.

And ya- he's absolutely done some awful shit. He's fallen for propaganda, he's hurt and killed both wwx and potentially hundreds of innocent people, he doubles down on his mistakes instead of reflecting, and he votes with the leapords eating your face party, and he'll be spending a lot of time alone and filled with rage and regret because of it. I do not deny that all that shit is true about him, but what I'll argue against is the idea that it's all he ever was and all he'll ever be

Normally, I believe in death of the author, but in this case mxtx's comments from a 2016 interview support my stance on him, so I'm gonna bring it up (Link to full interview. It's a fun read)

But ya: shout out to my fellow Jiang Cheng fans who like him, but think he's an asshole and want to push him down a flight of stairs

[hivemuthur]

What was that? - Ch. 2.

viktorxfemale!OFC mature! (for now, I will mark later chapters as explicit when the time comes

friends to lovers, co-workers, sexual tension up to the wazoo, pinning and banter that got me frustrated when I was writing it, attempt at humour, some angst and a slow burn with a happy ending and a classic Viktor for once

Ch.1. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.9. | Ch.10. | Ch.11. | Ch.12. | Ch.13. | Ch.14. | Ch.15.

word count: 3,4K

tag: #what was that

summary: Renly's absent from work, presumably dealing with the aftermath of her break-up, while Jayce and Viktor try to figure out how to make themselves useful. Obviously, Viktor fails, and only Jayce proves useful.

author’s note: Beta reader: @rennethen. This is an expository chapter, but the feels are there.

Cross-posted on AO3

—

“Do you know when she will come back?” Jayce shouted over the workbench, where Viktor was currently cutting metal parts for a cast brace, sprinkling sparks around and making insufferable noise.

“I believe she will do as she pleases,” he responded, voice slightly louder over the cutting machine humming down. “But initially, I think we should give her some time,” Viktor said, putting down the metal saw. “It wasn’t pretty, Jayce,” he finally added seeing a pending expression on his friend’s face.

Jayce leaned against the workbench, tapping his fingers rhythmically against the surface. "So, he was after Hextech all this time, eh? Ah, I should have been there,” he lost himself in thought for a second, his expression changing into one of anger.

„A punch would do him good." He straightened, mimicking an exaggerated swing with his fist. "Why didn’t you whack him?"

Viktor paused his work, one brow arching as he glanced up at Jayce. “Violence is not my forte, though I admit, it wouldn’t be out of place.”

Jayce smirked, though his shoulders remained tense. “That bad? What exactly happened?”

Setting his tools down with deliberate care, Viktor leaned lightly on his cane. His expression didn’t shift, but there was a sharpness in his voice. “Not much. He came upset, fabricated a lot of accusations to make her feel small, which, as you know, is very difficult even for someone of a bright mind… not to mention someone… well, like John.”

Jayce let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Well… did you tell her that? Do you think we should visit?”

Viktor tilted his head, an almost imperceptible sigh slipping through his lips. “That is not my forte either, Jayce.”

Jayce folded his arms, raising an eyebrow. “What is your forte then, Viktor?”

Viktor’s lips twitched into the ghost of a smirk as he adjusted the collar of his vest. “I like to think of myself as an anchor you emotional fools can come back to when needed. A constant secure structure for your safety and stability.”

Jayce chuckled, a low, warm sound that filled the quiet of the lab. “You are not as constant as you would like to be either, my friend.”

Viktor narrowed his eyes, his voice carrying a playful edge. “Is that so?”

Jayce didn’t answer directly, instead offering a smile that was half-teasing, half-knowing. Viktor’s gaze lingered on him for a moment before returning to his work.

The silence stretched, comfortable but charged, until Viktor broke it. “On a happier note, I hope, how are things progressing with the beautiful councillor?” It was a private joke now, how both Viktor and Renly always inserted the word beautiful when mentioning Mel.

Jayce brightened, leaning back against the workbench with a lopsided grin. “Good, I think.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his grin faltering slightly as his expression softened. “She’s not what we thought at the beginning. There’s more to her than she lets on. And it’s… impressive and… exciting.”

Viktor’s gaze sharpened; his expression thoughtful. “I think I know the type.”

Jayce frowned slightly, tilting his head. “Viktor?”

“That is all I have to say on that matter,” Viktor replied smoothly, his tone deliberately light as he turned back to his tools.

Jayce didn’t press further, though his curiosity lingered. Instead, he pushed off the workbench and stretched. “Alright. I think I’m going to go and see Renly. Remind her that some men are decent.”

Viktor raised a sceptical brow. “And the shining example would be… you?”

Jayce’s lips curved into the faintest smirk, his golden-brown eyes flicking toward his friend with measured patience. “Of course not, but...,” he said in a draughty tone.

„But I thought I might dangle a picture of you in front of her nose and see if that would lure her back in.”

The suggestion made Viktor pause, one hand stilling on the wrench he’d been adjusting. He turned slightly; his brow furrowed as he adjusted the weight of his cane. “And what was that you were trying to do? Make her come back or ignite a need to see the world and never set foot in this lab again?” he let out with a tiny bit of relief, that he was able to produce a quick, dismissive comeback.

Jayce laughed, loud and hearty, the sound bouncing off the walls of the now quiet lab. Viktor winced faintly at the volume, though he didn’t comment. He clapped Viktor on the shoulder—a habit that Viktor found equal parts endearing and irritating. “Oh, Viktor, you poor, oblivious soul. So cunning, so smart, yet... so blind.”

Viktor’s head tilted just slightly, his sharp gaze narrowing in a way that made him seem even more inquisitive. “Blind to what, exactly?” His tone was measured, deliberately devoid of emotion, but the faint crease in his forehead betrayed his curiosity.

Jayce leaned in closer, lowering his voice as though preparing to divulge a great secret. “Blind to the fact that the one thing you fear the most has already happened.”

The air between them stilled, the weight of Jayce’s words lingering like the ghost of static electricity in the lab. Viktor straightened, his posture rigid, but his fingers fidgeted slightly with the edge of his vest pocket.

“I’m certain your dramatics have a point, Jayce. Why not get to it?” Viktor finally said, his voice tight.

Jayce shook his head, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, it’s not a riddle, my friend. You’re just refusing to see the answer staring you in the face.”

For a brief moment, Viktor considered deflecting again—perhaps retreating into his work or changing the subject altogether—but instead, he adjusted his stance, leaning slightly onto his cane. “And what is this supposed answer?”

Jayce tilted his head, meeting Viktor’s gaze with a rare softness. “That this situation might prove itself advantageous to you?” he said, still in the mood to play around. Yet, his friend’s eyes, already glaring daggers in his direction caused him to back down. “You care, Viktor. More than you’re willing to admit. About Renly.”

Viktor’s breath hitched, so faintly it was nearly imperceptible, and he cast his eyes downward, toward the intricate lines of the wrench in his hands. “Caring for colleagues is hardly unusual,” he said carefully, his voice deliberately measured, as if trying to convince himself as much as Jayce.

Jayce chuckled. “Caring for colleagues doesn’t make you remember every word they say, or somehow predict their outrageous schedule with uncanny accuracy or…” He gestured vaguely, grinning. “...make you glare daggers at anyone who suggested what I just did or flirts with them.”

Viktor opened his mouth to respond, but no words came. His grip on the wrench tightened ever so slightly.

Jayce took a step back, his grin widening. “Just something to think about.”

With that, Jayce turned on his heel and walked toward the door, leaving Viktor alone in the now-still lab. Viktor remained frozen, his mind a quiet storm of rational arguments and irrational emotions.

His gaze drifted, settling on the corner of the room Renly used when she worked. The faintest ghost of her voice seemed to linger there; her laughter embedded in the walls like a soft echo. He scolded himself silently. Jayce’s words were nonsense, after all. They had to be.

***

Renly was feeling better. She even had her first meal in three days today. She was also contemplating taking a shower, though thinking about anything else felt easier than focusing on self-care—like why she hadn’t noticed John’s motives, or what it was within her that needed to change desperately so this situation would never happen again. Of course, she contemplated forsaking men altogether. For about two days, she was dead set on it. But then she thought of people like Jayce, Ekko, and Professor Heimerdinger, deciding it wasn’t entirely fair. Though, admittedly, including Heimerdinger in the 'men' category felt a bit strange.

She also thought about John though, which made this internal battle very hard. At first, she allowed herself to reminisce about the good parts of him—only to pivot moments later, plotting how to secure him a prime spot in hell.

Shame dominated her feelings—she had let herself be played, all because she hadn’t been paying attention. And recognizing her own guilt within it was the bitter pill to swallow. John, sadly, had been right—she had been dismissive. She had let him pursue her because it felt validating. He showered her with love and affection from the day one and she just dipped her toes in it, never submerged fully. He was her escape, her distraction. And truthfully, all those invitations she mentioned during the fight – they were a lie. She hadn’t actually invited him; she had just let him linger around her. So, upon reflection, she was stupid to not suspect anything when he stuck around, kept offering himself without getting anything in return. Of course, he wanted something else.

Her thoughts often wandered to Viktor—more than once, perhaps three times, perhaps more. She caught herself imagining him, quietly disappearing into his lab during her quarrel with John. What Viktor must think of her now—she didn’t even want to imagine.

She analysed his behaviour over the past few weeks, trying to determine if anything had changed. Perhaps he’d been in the lab more often lately—but then again, they both worked so much that it was hard to tell. Had he been unusually patient with her? There had been something unspoken in the way he looked at her the last time they spoke. Or perhaps she was imagining things—twisting fleeting moments into meanings that weren’t there.

And then she thought of the sound he had made under her touch. How flustered he’d seemed. Or had he just been embarrassed? She was definitely imagining things. She couldn’t stop her thoughts from drifting, and so she sat on the windowsill of her small apartment, reliving the moment when her fingers had made Viktor’s cheeks flush. She wondered what else might draw that sound from him. It was so pretty.

Her fantasy was interrupted by the sharp ring of the doorbell. Gods, get a hold of yourself, woman.

She opened the door without checking who it was first and immediately felt mortified when she saw Jayce’s relieved face.

"It will forever be on my list of life failures, to open a door for you in the sorry state I’m in right now." She stood awkwardly, arms crossed, posture slightly slumped, her gaze lingering on the doorway as she moved aside to let him in.

"I’ve seen worse, and over smaller disasters," came the smirk, followed by a raised eyebrow. "So if I were you, I’d reserve a precious spot on your list for something that actually counts." Leaning casually against the doorframe, his hands slid into his pockets, the grin tugging at the corner of his lips. He did regard Renly’s sorry state though and had to admit that it was the first time she presented herself so sadly. Dark circles under her eyes, face slightly red, she clearly had been crying not long ago. Also, had she lost some weight?

“Have you been eating?” Jayce broke his role for a moment to show true concern.

"I am not dying, Jayce Tallis!" She rolled her eyes with a small laugh, her voice light yet carrying a hint of exhaustion. „I’m just a bit... down.” Renly let the silence fall between them, though not for very long.

"Well then, welcome to my lair of doom. Make yourself at home. What can I do for you?" She gestured toward the cluttered apartment with a vague, resigned motion, her tone soft but weary.

"You can tell me what I can do for you." He stepped inside, eyes scanning the room with an amused yet curious look. "Also, Viktor says hi." He shrugged off his jacket with a relaxed gesture, tossing it carelessly over the back of a nearby chair. His casualness returned, matching his usual demeanour.

"Is that really what Viktor says: ‘hi’?”, she almost laughed, but the truth was, the mention of Viktor made her feel uncomfortable, given what she had been thinking about just minutes ago. “He reached out to you and said: ‘Say hi to Renly from me?’" She raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a playful yet sceptical smile, folding her arms tightly across her chest as she leaned against the doorframe.

"Well… no." He hesitated, a brief pause in his words before continuing, his voice softening. "But he was worried about you."

He took a small step forward, eyes meeting hers, the teasing tone giving way to something more sincere. His gaze lingered, offering a silent acknowledgment of her being very brave in that moment, facing Jayce at what he thought was her worst.

"I’m sure he is," she let out a half-sigh, half-laugh, shifting as she paced a little, shaking her head. "That can only mean you two talked about me, and what’s much worse, about what happened, and decided an intervention was needed?" She stopped mid-step, her gaze narrowing slightly, arms still folded. Her expression was a mix of exasperation and amusement as she looked him over.

"It’s not an intervention, it’s a peace offering." With a sly grin, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small bag, dramatically presenting her favourite chocolate with a bow and an exaggerated flourish.

"I, Jayce Tallis, of House Tallis, bid myself to apologize in the name of men and commit to this case until you, Reynard Huxley of Zaun, reconsider forsaking all representatives of the male species." He held the chocolate up like a knight offering a token of peace, his expression absurdly proud.

"I’ve been there two days ago," she chuckled softly, as she plucked the gift from Jayce’s hands. "Now I’m thinking I could give you and Viktor a pass. And maybe Heimerdinger." She raised an eyebrow, as this was still the subject of an internal debate she had been having earlier.

"He counts as men?" His voice dropped into a teasing tone as he tilted his head slightly, genuinely curious.

"You know, I haven’t figured it out myself either," she shrugged nonchalantly, as she as she beckoned Jayce into her kitchen, chocolate already being consumed.

In the span of about two hours, she told Jayce about her week of grieving and denying reality, adding that she was close to fine now, each time his expression grew weary. He did his best to make her feel better about herself, even though some of the things he said, she knew were not true. For example, that it wasn’t her fault at all.

When the topic exhausted itself, Jayce took a stroll around her living room, admiring all the dinky lights she had put up to avoid the greater evil – The Big Light. They joked about the times they studied together and drank illegal amounts of coffee in her tiny kitchen.

“So…,” he started, she knew the question looming behind this entry. “Are we going to see you at work anytime soon, you think?”

“Ah, yes, that,” she sighed. It really wasn’t about getting her life back; she was starting to miss it. She also had a massive backlog of ideas built up. But the thought of Viktor giving her a lecture on how she had endangered the lives’ work of her friends had been making her sick for a few days now.

“I’m worried Viktor is cross with me,” she said, her voice tinged with expectation .

“That’s what you are worried about?” Jayce laughed at her. He outright laughed at her. "I’m sure he misses you. I almost managed to choke it out of him the other day."

“Now that, I will never believe,” she allowed herself a chuckle. "But really, don’t you think it was a little too close?"

"Eh, maybe. We’ll just be more careful in the future, is all." Jayce gave her a reassuring smile.

"How? Am I to be assisted by a chaperone on my future dates now?" Renly raised her eyebrows, amused by the thought of Jayce and Viktor interviewing her potential future love interests.

“Aha!” he exclaimed. "If you’re already thinking about future dates, it means you’re going to be all right."

 She caressed the soft blanket hanging over her sofa chair. “You know, it’s either that or I finally get a cat.”

"And what will this poor cat do when you spend three nights in a row at work?" Jayce retorted, returning to the argument he always used whenever Renly mentioned the cat.

"Well, maybe I’ll take it with me? I’m sure a cat would be thrilled by all the things to break in the lab," a playful challenge in her voice.

"Oh, now you’re just trying to win the bet. This is not fair play; I will not allow it!" Jayce jumped up from his seat, referring to a bet they made a while ago: would Viktor ever truly lose it over something.

She let Jayce out late in the evening, thanking him and making a promise she would do her best to show up at the lab the following day. His visit did actually help. Well, now she had to have that shower.

***

The hum of the lab was the only sound, a constant presence that had almost become a part of him. Viktor glanced over the hextech notes, a delicate shift of gears and power running through his hands, yet his focus drifted, lost in the mechanical precision of his work. It wasn’t that the project was any less important—on the contrary, it was more critical than ever—but the silence of the room felt oppressive in ways it hadn’t before.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d worked without hearing the familiar background of a song—something light-hearted and silly, something that made the walls of his lab feel less like a tomb. It had been almost a week now, hadn't it? The thought crept in without warning, lingering like an uncomfortable itch. He hadn’t realized it at first, but now the stillness felt sharper, colder. Renly’s absence was like a subtle ache in his chest, one that he tried to ignore but couldn’t shake.

He glanced over at the radio on the counter, its dusty dial untouched for days. A soft sigh escaped him before he could stop it. He didn’t want to admit it—didn’t want to face the fact that her absence had carved an unexpected emptiness in him. But the silence was too much. It was too heavy.

With a brief motion, Viktor turned the dial. The static buzzed, then the soft crackle of a late-night radio song started playing. He hadn’t asked for it, hadn’t asked for any of it, but the song was there, filling the room with its slow paced, almost mocking familiarity. It was as if Renly herself had been there, humming along. He felt a strange lump in his throat, and for a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to close his eyes, leaning against the counter.

His fingers tightened slightly on the edge of the lab table, but he couldn’t stop the small, frustrated sigh that slipped through. It was easier, wasn’t it? To keep himself busy with work, to bury the longing under layers of equations and experiments. Easier than admitting to himself how much he missed the interruptions, the banter, the warmth she brought into this cold place.

Renly had made everything feel less clinical, less sterile. She had forced him to confront the things he preferred to ignore, and in some twisted way, she had made him feel alive in ways he hadn’t realized he was missing.

He stood there, eyes closed, letting the song play out. It wasn’t just the singing he missed, it was all the weird sounds and expressions she made, her easy presence in the lab, the way she seemed to exist in the chaos he created without ever being overwhelmed by it. Her absence wasn’t just silence. It was a reminder of everything he couldn’t fix, everything he couldn’t change.

When the song ended, he didn’t turn the radio off. Instead, he stood still for a moment longer, staring at the machinery in front of him, as though it could offer him answers. But of course, it didn’t. He knew it wouldn’t.

“Get back to work,” he muttered to himself desperate for distraction, shaking his head as he turned back to the machine, the faint strains of the next song filling the space around him.

[z0mbi3girl444]

WILLIAM AFTON X READER NONCON IV

You have a step dad that likes you a little too much.

STORY INCLUDES RAP3/NONCON. NSFW 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT I WILL BLOCK YOU.

You hate when your mother is gone. Every time she leaves town, your step-dad William practically changes personalities. After long days of working at his owned Fredbear’s Family Diner, instead of cooking for you or your step-brother Michael–who reminds you over and over that you are not his sister–William opens the liquor cabinet and just drinks. You mostly stay locked away in your room, trying to put as much distance between you and the man as possible. While Michael is out, surrounded by friends and living an actual life, you’re still adjusting to your new town, you don't have anyone to hang out with.

Something always nerved you about William. He might put on a good facade around your mother, but sometimes, when you catch him staring at you, or getting a little too close to you for no reason at all, you almost don't feel safe around William. So whenever your mother leaves town—which is far too often these days ever since her sister got sick—you’re left under William’s watchful eye.

Most of the time you hide out in your room, or pick up extra shifts at the convenience store you just recently started working at, and try to avoid William as much as possible.

William was a busy man, the co-owner of the most popular family-friendly restaurant in town; Fredbear’s Family Diner, so during the day he’s never home. But at night, that’s when things would get a little…intense.

You hear him from downstairs, yelling at Michael in a drunken rage, occasionally hitting him, but you never do anything. You feel bad, but you know if you do try to intervene, you will only get hurt. So you cover your ears, or listen to music on full blast, just to drown out the noise of William’s drunken abuse.

Tonight, your mom is gone and Michael is out, and William comes home later than usual. You’re up in your room, finishing up homework you have been putting off for days, and the moment you hear the door open from downstairs, your body tenses. Michael isn’t home, so you wonder if William will pick on you instead.

After around an hour or so, you start hearing William’s familiar shouts.

“Michael!!” He yells. You stay quiet. “Michael!” You hear again. His voice is louder, closer. He is walking up the stairs, you can hear the sound of his boots. He begins pounding on Michael’s door. “Open up you little shit!” He yells, “You didn’t take the trash cans in like I asked!” You hear the slur in his voice, he is drunk again, of course. It seems worse this time.

He is quiet for a few moments, and then you slowly hear his footsteps trudge towards your room. The only sound in the house are his footsteps approaching. Your eyes widen. He knows you’re up, your lights are still on.

William doesn’t hesitate as he knocks on your door “Open up,” he commands, his voice a blend of softness and authority that leaves no room for argument. You feel a jolt of fear freeze you in place. The thought of him forcibly entering your space is far more terrifying than simply obeying his request. William hasn’t laid a hand on you—yet—and you are determined to keep it that way.

With a resigned sigh, you push away from your desk and open the door. There he stands, dominating the threshold, his heavy eyelids partially obscuring his gaze, an inscrutable expression etching across his face.

“Where is my son?” William inquires, raising an eyebrow in a manner that seems to challenge you.

You shrug, genuinely at a loss. “I’m sorry, Mr. Afton, but I don’t know. Michael and I aren’t really friends,” you reply, trying to maintain a calm demeanor, though the slight tremor in your voice betrays your nerves.

William leans against the door frame, his presence almost suffocating as he scrutinizes you. “How long has he been gone?” he presses, his tone unyielding.

“He wasn’t home when I got back from school,” you manage to say. “There’s a soccer game tonight for our school; maybe he’s there?” You aren’t even sure if there was a game, but you grasp at the words, desperate for this conversation to reach its end.

A flicker of amusement dances across William’s lips, as if he is struggling to suppress a smirk. “Well then,” he exhales, a chilling undertone lacing his words, “I suppose I’ll just have to wait for him to return so I can teach him a lesson.” A wave of nausea washes over you at the thought, and your heart ached for Michael. "What are you up to?" he asks.

"Homework," you say, your voice shaking slightly as you force yourself to meet his gaze. "I should probably get back to it."

William chuckles, a sound that sends a chill down your spine. "You're a smart girl, aren't you?" he says, his eyes roaming over your face as if trying to memorize every detail.

You shrug, feeling self-conscious under his intense scrutiny. "I try," you mumble, unsure of how to respond.

"Michael never tried much in school," William continues, taking another step closer until his chest is almost brushing against yours. "It's nice to have a kid who does." His hand comes to rest on your shoulder, his fingers digging into your flesh with a possessive grip. "It's nice to have a daughter," he says, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper that makes your stomach churn with revulsion. You try to shift away from him, but his hand tightens on your shoulder, holding you in place."Aren't you happy to have a dad?" he questions, his predatory gaze boring into yours, searching for any hint of defiance or resistance.

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. The air between you feels thick and suffocating, like a physical weight pressing down on your chest. You know you should say something, anything, to break the tension, but the words won't come.

Your voice quivers with a mixture of fear and determination as you finally find the courage to speak up. "You're...not my dad," you say, the words coming out in a rush.

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with defiance and the unspoken knowledge that you're treading on dangerous ground. But you can't bring yourself to play along with his twisted game, to pretend that there's anything remotely fatherly about the way he's looking at you.

William chuckles, a dark and menacing sound that sends a shiver down your spine. He steps fully into your room, closing the door behind him with a soft click that feels like the sealing of your fate. His hand falls from your shoulder, instead coming to rest on your waist, his fingers digging into your skin with bruising force.

"I wish we were closer, you know," he says, his voice low and sultry, dripping with a sickening kind of affection. "But you keep yourself so hidden from me. I'm starting to think you're scared of me."

You look down at his hand on your waist, your mind reeling as you try to process what's happening. You don't understand it, can't begin to fathom why this man would want to be this close to you in any way.

You try to pull away, to put some distance between your bodies, but before you can react, he has you trapped against the wall, his hard body pressing against yours with a force that steals the breath from your lungs. His hand slides up your side, coming to rest just below your breast, his thumb brushing against the soft fabric.

"Is that it, sweetheart?" he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "Are you scared of your daddy?"

You let out a nervous laugh, your eyes darting around the room frantically as you search for an escape. "N-No, I really should get back to my homework," you stammer, your voice shaking slightly. "I'm kind of busy right now..."

But William shakes his head, his eyes never leaving yours, holding you captive with his intense gaze. "Come on, kiddo. Take a little break with your dad," he coos, his voice dripping with fake affection. "Let me get to know you a bit better."

You swallow hard, your mouth going dry as you realize there's no easy way out of this situation. You want to remind him again that he's not your father, that he has no right to call himself that, but the fear that churns in your gut holds you back. You're terrified of what he might do if you defy him, and that fear is the only thing keeping you rooted in place.

"I'm just...busy right now," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe we can talk another time?"

But William is having none of it. He smiles, a predatory glint in his eye as he takes a step closer to you. "You can make some time for me," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. "It's almost midnight, isn't that past your bedtime anyway?"

He teases, his words hitting a nerve. You're acutely aware of the power dynamic here, of how easily he could overpower you if he chose to.

"Mr. Afton..." you begin, “What are you doing?

William's eyes twinkle with mischief as he grins down at you, his voice dripping with mock affection. "Come on, sweetheart," he coos, "We're past formalities now. Just call me Daddy."

You shake your head vehemently, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and revulsion. "No. I-I won't..."

He throws his head back and laughs, a deep, rumbling sound that sends chills down your spine. "You're so cute when you're all flustered like that," he taunts, closing the gap between your bodies until you can feel the heat radiating off his skin.

You gasp as you feel something hard pressing against you, your eyes widening in shock and horror. The realization of what it is sends alarm bells ringing in your ears, your mind screaming at you to run, to fight, to do anything to escape this nightmare.

"It's always turned me on," William whispers, his hot breath ghosting over your ear. "Seeing you, talking to you, knowing that I could have you whenever I wanted..."

You stiffen, your body recoiling from his touch as he grinds against you, ensuring you feel every inch of his arousal. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as he grabs your jaw, forcing you to meet his cruel gaze.

"How does that feel, sweetheart?" he growls, his voice rough and husky, dripping with sickening desire. "Knowing that this..." He punctuates his words with another thrust of his hips, making sure you can't deny the evidence of his lust. "Knowing that this is how you make your daddy feel?"

His words are like a physical blow, violating and degrading. You want to scream, to push him away, but you're paralyzed with fear, trapped in his grasp.

"You're not my dad," you whimper, the words barely above a whisper as tears begin to fall down your cheeks. "You're not my dad."

But even as you say it, you can see the truth in his eyes. He believes it, believes that he has the right to touch you, to use you, to claim you as his own. And in that moment, you realize that nothing you say or do will change his mind.

William's chuckle rumbles through his chest as he traces the delicate line of your jaw with his finger. "Oh, sweetheart," he breathes, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "I'm the closest thing to a father you'll ever have..."

You try to turn your face away from his, to escape his unsettling gaze, but he holds you firmly in place, trapping you against the wall with his imposing frame. His chuckle takes on a menacing edge as he sizes you up, his eyes roaming over your body like a predator stalking its prey.

"Please, Mr. Afton!" you beg, your voice shaking with fear and desperation. "Please–”

He clamps his hand over your mouth, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and lust. "Shut up," he hisses through gritted teeth. "I'm not your goddamn teacher. I'm your father." His cold lips brush against yours in a mockery of a kiss, sending shivers down your spine. "And you're my little girl..."

Your screams are muffled beneath his palm as he makes quick work of your clothing, roughly yanking the fabric away to expose your vulnerable body. You try to fight, to push him off, but he's too strong. He easily overpowers you, his grip like a vice as he drags you closer.

Desperate, you manage to break free from his hold and scramble backwards, putting some much-needed distance between you. But your escape is short-lived. William grabs the hood of your zip-up, using it to yank you back towards him with brutal force. You land hard on the bed, the air knocked from your lungs.

He looms over you, a sinister grin spreading across his face as he takes in your helpless form. "There's no use fighting, sweetheart. You know you can't win against Daddy," he purrs, his voice dripping with sickening endearment.

Tears stream down your cheeks as you plead with him, your voice breaking with desperation. "No, please! I'll do anything, just don't do this!"

But your pleas fall on deaf ears. William reaches down, quickly unbuckling his belt and freeing himself from the confines of his pants. Before you can brace yourself, he's upon you, his hard length thrusting deep inside your untouched depths with no warning.

Your breath catches in your throat as William's skilled touch sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. His gentle yet assertive movements catch you off guard, melting away any resistance. A whimper escapes your lips as he finds that spot deep inside you, hitting it with expert precision.

"Mmm, that's it," he purrs, his warm breath tickling your ear. His grip on your wrists tightens, but not painfully, holding you in place as he continues his relentless assault. "Good girl."

You try to fight it, to cling to your hatred for him, but your body betrays you. Your legs part of their own accord, welcoming him deeper as your inner walls clench around his hard length. Each powerful thrust sends you spiraling higher, drowning out all thoughts of anger and resentment.

A guttural groan rips from William's throat as he throws his head back, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. His hands leave your wrists, sliding up your sides to cup your breasts, kneading the soft flesh. He gazes down at you with hooded eyes, a wicked smirk playing on his lips.

"You like that, don't you?" he growls, punctuating his words with a particularly deep thrust. "You love the way I fuck you, even if you won't admit it."

You bite your lip to stifle a moan, hating how right he is. Despite your best efforts to remain indifferent, your body is responding to his touches, craving more. You're torn between wanting to push him away and pulling him closer, lost in a haze of lust and confusion.

As if reading your mind, William leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delves into your mouth, claiming you, dominating you. You can taste your own arousal on his lips, a heady mix of shame and desire.

Your body trembles beneath William's, a fine sheen of sweat covering your skin as he continues to pound into you with relentless abandon. The pleasure is overwhelming, all-consuming, stealing the breath from your lungs with each powerful thrust.

His lips trail down your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point as he marks you as his own. You can't help but moan, arching into him as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he growls, his voice strained with effort. "I knew you'd feel amazing around my cock."

His words, so filthy and degrading, only serve to heighten your arousal. You're drowning in a sea of sensation, lost in the raw, primal pleasure of his touch.

Suddenly, William pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty and unsatisfied. He peers down at you, staring at you with heavy eyelids. "Beg for it," he demands, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Beg me to fuck you."

You're torn between wanting to defy him and wanting to feel him inside you again. Your body aches with need, your inner walls clenching around nothing as you fight the urge to beg for his cock. But as he rubs the head of his length through your folds, teasing you with the promise of pleasure, you know you're lost. You open your mouth, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

"Please," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please…”

William chuckles, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "Good girl," he praises.

And then he's inside you again, moving faster this time. You let out a shuddering breath, your body trembling as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak. Your fingers dig into William's shoulders, nails raking across his skin as you cling to him desperately.

"Oh god," you whimper, your voice breaking with each word. "I-I can't...it's too much..."

William just chuckles, a dark and seductive sound that sends shivers down your spine. "I know" he purrs, his voice low and husky. "I know it is, kiddo."

His thrusts become harder, more demanding, each one pushing you closer to the edge. Your head falls back against the bed frame, your eyes squeezing shut as you lose yourself in the sensation.

And then, with one final, deep thrust, you shatter. A silent scream tears from your throat as your body convulses, waves of ecstasy crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your inner walls clamp down around William's length, milking him for all he's worth.

With a guttural growl, he follows you over the edge, his hips jerking erratically as he spills himself inside you. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place as he fills you with his seed, marking you as his own.

For a long moment, neither of you move, your bodies pressed together as you both struggle to catch your breath. William's head rests against your shoulder, his lips brushing against your skin in a tender gesture that seems at odds with the brutal way he just took you.

Finally, he pulls back, his eyes locking with yours. There's a dark satisfaction in his gaze, a possessiveness that makes your stomach churn with a mix of fear and disgust.

"See?" he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous. "I knew you'd be a good girl for me." He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "And now that I've had a taste, I know I'll be back for more. You're mine now. All mine."

ao3: z0mbi3girl444

[ubesam]

DOGDAY X READER

PART 4

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Summative: After you have arrived home. You can feel your face heat up thinking about him. But as you were walking to your bed, you tripped over something making your head the hard wooden floor. Well, everything be alright? What's going to happen?

Warning: coma, Curse words, worried puppy, Happy family, rush asap, ???

Romance: 7/10

Fluff: 100/10

Platonic: ?/10

Smut: 0/10

Note from Author: I got some ideas from my bestie from discord. And then my discord acc password was reset by someone for some reason... So... I can't log back in anymore.. I miss my bestie:( I hope she sees this...

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After encountering the kissing situation back at playtime co. You slammed the door of your apartment but it was not too loud to wake your neighbours. You slide down the back of the door as you wrap your arms around your knees. With sigh, you can still feel the heat of your face just.. thinking about him.

"God... I'm such a mess right now..." You mumbled silently. You just stood up and started walking towards your bedroom and head to bed.

You walk towards your bed but only to trip over something and fall, causing your head to hit the hard wooden floor. Everything went black... Blood flowing through the wooden floor as you laid there unconscious. The only thing that you heard was someone shouting and screaming your name, you barely hear it. It sounded like you were under water, but you know that you weren't.

It has been two weeks since your incident. You fell from a coma for two weeks unknowingly. Your parents are right by your hospital bed, your mother holding your hand... Pure worry was only you can tell feeling your mother's touch. But not a while when you decide to open your eyes, lights glimmer down on you. You look to the side to see your mother still holding your hand, your father who was fast asleep hm.. he's still the same old man, huh? You thought to yourself.

Seeing your mother holding your hand tightly. You decided to speak up, your voice was weak due to your dried up throat.

"Mom?" Your voice sounded like a grown old woman but you didn't care much.

Upon hearing your voice. Your mother flinched and lifted her head immediately to look at you. You smiled as your mom began to tear up.

"My sweet baby girl!!!" She cried out hugging you instantly. Upon she screamed, your father flinched up awake from his slumber and looked towards the noise just to see you and your mother squeezing you tightly.

Your father sighed in relief upon seeing you finally awake from your coma. A smile was curled up to his face, as he went towards your mother to pull her away from you, so you won't have a difficulty breathing. Your mother who was worried sick and over protective of you continued to cry seeing her sweet baby girl awake from her coma.

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~TWO WEEKS AGO~

Dogday being a good dog, waited for his angel to come in through her office door. He wants to tease his angel about what happened yesterday. Yet, He waited there from 5:00 Am to 6:00 Am, Yet no sign of you coming in. He sighed and waited a bit longer, yet you didn't come. Here he was worried sick about you.

It was time to open the playcare. Yet no sign of you. Dogday got more worried and decided to ask one of your friends, he then soon found out that you fell into a coma. Aw, the poor puppy is getting worried. He sighed as he continued his daily tasks without you, but he tried his best to smile towards others so he could hide the sadness inside him. He was worried about a bit too much, he began to overthink lately. One of his friends saw this and asked if he was alright. The only reply that came out of his mouth was, "Oh! It's nothing necessary!" He replies with the same sentence to all of them except for catnap.

A week without his angel, made him miss you more! He misses your smile, your eyes, your sound of laughter, and your face. It made him even sadder day by day! Yet he tries to smile bright like the sun for the children and the others. Having a hard time dealing with his depression but he pretends that he was fine. But shit! It was for two goddamn weeks! He would sleep in your office every night! And it made the other critters worry about him more!

The poor puppy is worried sick about you!

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After a day of you getting checked up just in case. You were finally out of the hospital and of course! Your mother starts rambling lectures about you to be more careful. But fuck! You were a twenty two year old lady and yet getting lectures from your mother at this age?! Oh, ho! ho! ho! Nope! You weren't having it!

"Mom.. I'm not your little girl anymore! Look! I'm twenty two years old! TWENTY TWO!"

Your mom's pov: A sweet innocent 5 year old child version of angel In front of her.

"That's practically an adult! But you still treat me like I'm a little kid!" You huffed out.

Your mother couldn't help but sigh with tears in her eyes.

"I can't believe children grow up too fast.." your mom sniffled and wiped her tears around the corner of her eyes.

Your dad sighs and just nodded at your mom that she had to let you go. Your mother inhaled some deep air and exhaled looking at you with her gaze.

"Fine.. But will you promise to be more careful? I don't want to lose my baby girl." Your mom tries to hold her tears because just seeing you in front of her makes her proud because she raises such a wonderful daughter.

You sighed and nodded and gave your parents a huge hug. Your parents returned the hug and kissed your forehead. You rode a taxi and waved goodbye to your parents as your taxi set off. "I should probably get ready for work... Wait... Work! Oh my lord! I forgot about dogday! Shit! Shit! Shit! I hope he's not mad at me!!" You thought to yourself as your driver finally stopped at your destination. You gave him a tip and ran to your building and to your apartment door and hurriedly got changed to get back to work once for all.

You rode your motorbike and drove. You quickly got in the elevator or smth idk. And finally rushed to your office door. You sighed as you slowly turned the door knob making dogday raises his head from the couch and his gaze towards the door, You came in with a big sigh. Dogday's eyes widened as his tail wags.

"Angel!" He shouted as he got up and ran to you. He holds you by the waist and lifts you up in the air, seeing his happy smile you couldn't help but smile. "I guess.. he did miss me.." you thought to yourself.

"I'm sorry for.. making you worried.." you apologise as an intense awkwardness lingers in the air.

It was silent for a moment... You then hear sniffles coming from dogday, you look down to see him tearing up. Your eyes widened "did he really worry about me a bit too much?"

You thought to yourself.

Dogday then hugged you to his chest as he began to breakdown. You couldn't help but smile seeing him make you smile. You patted his back and started to hum a song, he continued to whimper while crying. You wiped his tears away and gave a kiss on the forehead as you hummed a song.

One hour passed by. You and dogday fell asleep in each of your embraces, hearing dogday's soothing snores as his chest rises and lowers. Hearing his heartbeat as you slept peacefully, nuzzling your head to his chest fur getting comfortable. Your office was filled in silence only yours and dogday's breathing filled the room.

Both of you were sleeping peacefully. Till dogday heard a knock on the door. You were still asleep on his arms snuggling your head against his chest, he couldn't help but blush slightly at you. He slowly got up and put you on the couch as he walked towards your office door to see who was knocking.

He opened the door to see all of his friends standing in front of him with a concerned look on their faces. Dogday tilted his head a little in confusion, till Bobby handed up a basket with food and flowers and a happy smiling card. His eyes widened and then turned his gaze to his friends. I guess he was so gloomy lately that it made his friends worry about him.

He smiled but then his eyes landed on catnap at the back. Looks like he was worried too.

"What's all this?" He asked with a light chuckle.

"You've been down and gloomy lately, dude!" Kickin said as he rested his arm on dogday's shoulder.

"Catnap has to tell us the real reason why you were all so gloomy! But we didn't think that you would have a heart for an angel~" bobby smirked. She smells love in the air.

"Catnap told you guys?" Dogday asked.

"Duh! Sugar cube! He was also worried about you! So he told all of us about the reason for your sudden depression!" Picky piggy stands next to dogday munching on an apple.

Dogday's eyes were wide in surprise as he saw catnap not meeting his gaze and just looked down on the floor embarrassed. His best friend was worried about him? Ain't that cute!

Dogday walks towards catnap. Catnap looked towards dogday as he was suddenly pulled into an embrace. Catnap was still adjusting but he gave in and hugged dogday back. The others followed behind them and pulled in a big group hug. What a happy family<3

"Well, well, well! What a cute family of friends!" You chuckled behind them as you leaned on the door frame of your office.

The critters turned around to you, they saw you chuckling leaning on the door frame.

"Angel? You're awake!" Dogday said with a happy doggy smile.

"I never slept! I just pretend to sleep just to wait for this family of friends to get into a big family hug!" You chuckled.

They all laughed together with you. Dogday finally feels his sunny happy beam from his heart seeing all of his loving Friends laughing and being happy. He just wishes this moment of life will last forever feeling the happiness.

...

You... your poppy's Angel...

...

Angel...

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Note from Author: My classmates sided eye me while doing this and then complimented me about how good my English was. But I said nah it looks shit. Well that's all, hope you all enjoyed the food💅✨

[mirisss]

Enhypen poly reaction to "The new Kard"

Pairing: Enhypen OT6 (not including Niki because he’s a minor) x idol! (Y/n)

Wordcount ≈ 600

Warning: Kard’s song Cake is referenced (quite a sexual song & choreo), some sexual innuendo, mdni, nothing explicit,  

Summary: In a world where the Kard we know today doesn’t exist, instead a new Kard is created. “The new Kard” = (Y/n) - 02 liner dating Enhypen, Keeho (P1harmony), Ricky (ZB1), & Yunjin (Lesserafim). So how will Enhypen react to their beloved girlfriend’s debut? 

Authors note: Thank you for the request! This was such a fun idea, I’m not an expert when it comes to Kard but I listen to their music every now and then. It’s sort of short but it’s mostly because it’s a reaction fic. Not my best work, but I hope you still enjoy it. 

Request by 🍮 - anon

Please reblog! 

Third person POV

(Y/n) participated in I-Land with the Enhypen boys where they all fell in love and entered a poly relationship, though unfortunately, (Y/n) did not debut with the boys. Instead (Y/n) had to wait another 2 years until she got to debut, her debut group was one-of-a-kind as it was a four-member co-ed group consisting of Yoon Keeho, Huh Yunjin, (L/n) (Y/n), and Shěn Ricky. 

Enhypen was waiting for the MV for (Y/n)’s debut song to drop. They couldn't wait to see the choreo or hear the song as (Y/n) had told them, they would be very surprised. The members were counting down the seconds to see the MV, just the same as a lot of pre-debut fans were. Enhypen had gotten permission from HYBE to stream their reaction to the MV as it was well known that Enhypen and The New Kard were good friends, the relationship between Enhypen and (Y/n) hadn’t been released yet but the fans knew the two groups were good friends. 

“3, 2, 1! It’s out!!! LET’S GO!!!” Jake screamed as the other five boys laughed. Jake clicked on the now-posted MV for “Cake” by The New Kard, they were very intrigued by the name ‘Cake’. (For reference here, check out Cake by Kard). Throughout the entire MV, the Enhypen boys kept shouting “OH! WAH! Holy!” And things alike it. The fans watching the stream were freaking out over Enhypen’s reactions as the boys seemed to be speechless but also a little turned on by the way they were blushing and watching one of the Kard members. The fans couldn’t tell if it was Yunjin or (Y/n) they were so focused on. 

Once the MV was over, the Enhypen boys were blushing and giggling like crazy. “Wah, that was, wow,” Was all Jay managed to say. A few minutes later they ended the live and called (Y/n), asking her to come over. 

* When (Y/n) arrives at Enhypen’s dorm * 

“Hey guys,” “Hey, baby,” Heesung said as he gave (Y/n) a hug the second she stepped inside. (Y/n) noticed the looks the boys had in their eyes, it was playful. “Come on, come inside,” Sunoo said giving her his signature innocent smile that she loved, though the look in his eyes told a very different story to his smile. “What’s up with you guys?” “Hmm, (Y/n), why don’t you show us the choreo to Cake? We want to see it live,” Sunghoon whispered in her ear, causing chills to run down her back. “Please, baby? It looked so good in the MV, I bet it looks much better in real life,” Jungwon said before kissing her cheek. “Of course,” If anyone else had asked, (Y/n) would never have done it but now it was her dear boyfriends and she too felt very excited by their reaction. 

Not my gifs - but this is pretty much how I imagine their reactions

[justzawe]

Zawe Ashton Covers AMAZING Magazine | Issue 4

Actor, author, playwright and new mum Zawe Ashton adds another string to her bow: supervillain. As she joins the Marvel Cinematic Universe, she tells AMAZING about her love of poetry, getting physical on the set of The Marvels and the unwavering support of her own parents.

Zawe Ashton is no stranger to playing the antagonist. From her very first film role as rude schoolgirl Bianca in 2009’s St Trinian's 2: The Legend Of Fritton's Gold, to playing the intimidatingly cool Violet “Vod” Nordstrom in four seasons of student sitcom Fresh Meat and – more recently - as the rejected Julia Thistlewaite in 2022 period drama, Mr. Malcolm’s List, Ashton has a knack for taking on characters who appear unlikeable on paper… and making audiences fall in love with them. However, for her latest role as Dar-Benn in The Marvels, she had to go full villain.

“Very little can prepare you to have to embody an antagonist at this level, in a Universe that is literally not known to anyone – like our Space - and to make it real and impactful,” says the London-born actor, a new recruit to the Marvel Cinematic Universe. “There's something deeply humbling about having to return to the sandbox; you have to go back to the playground and that was something I was not expecting. You have to indulge in adult play and it’s surprisingly vulnerable. I know that there are gamers out there, there are cosplayers out there, there are adults who have managed to keep that level of childlike play going and I respect it so much. There's a self-consciousness that can take over if you are not careful. Trying to react realistically to a laser coming towards you is not something I’d done since I was seven years old, and I had to get to that level of childlike confidence to just delve into the imagination. Once that was all clearer, the villainous elements came so much from the physical world, with costume and hair.”

For 39-year-old Ashton, adult play will likely become a more frequent fixture in her life, thanks to her most exciting new role – as a mother. She welcomed her first child in 2022 with fiancé Tom Hiddleston, her co-star in the 2019 revival of Harold Pinter's Betrayal on London’s West End, later transferred to Broadway. “What has genuinely surprised me about motherhood is how much I don't feel ready to talk about it,” she laughs. “And this isn’t to shut down the conversation. I have gained so much insight from public people who have this incredible candour and this disarming, relatable dialogue about it very early on, but it's something that I am just dedicating time to absorbing. I’m listening rather than expelling energy. That genuinely has surprised me, because it's something you want to shout from the rooftops about; it's the most unparalleled, most important role in my life. The surprise has been how quiet I want to be about it. Maybe that's also me as a writer and this is something that will come through the pen at some point.”

Ashton attended London’s Anna Scher Theatre School from the age of six and was a member of the National Youth Theatre, before getting her degree in acting at Manchester Metropolitan University, but writing has always been significant in her life. She won the London Poetry Slam Championship in 2000, becoming the event’s youngest winner, at 17. “I may have been knocked off that pillar long ago, but in my head I'm still the youngest,” she laughs. “I love poetry. I had not written for a really long time; during the pandemic I lost a huge chunk of my creative soul when it came to putting pen to paper, which was really scary and was clearly the fallout of being in survival mode and feeling quite fearful. People's attention spans just went all sorts of different ways, didn't they? It was very hard for me to read, and it was very hard for me to write, which is very strange for me.

“More recently, a friend of mine from drama school who I used to do open mic nights with in Manchester – I used to perform poetry and she used to sing - asked me to write a poem for her wedding. I had a few moments where it was really tough, but I did it. I love her and I'm so happy for her, and being inspired enough to get a poem out and read it aloud really opened the floodgates. So, weirdly enough, I've been writing a lot of poetry recently and found a new love for it. I will always continue to use poetry as a way to understand the world. It's just so much part of who I am.”

For Zawe's full interview and shoot, order your copy of AMAZING issue 4 now. The Marvels is out now.

[chericheribaby]

Fanfiction Author Interview Game

thank you for the tag @moonheavens i loved snooping on your answers hehe <3

How many works do you have on AO3?

seven at the moment! that will change pretty soon...

What's your total AO3 word count?

105,014 but that's because it's counting my hidden works! (about time and my jegbb)

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

archenemies (or so he thought) | if you care for me pls don't read this lmao, this was my first born and it's... yeah, please don't. (somehow this is my work with the most hits which is terrible)

Don't threaten me with a good time | the sequel of archenemies, same warning lol

When it rains | I liked how this one turned out, it's silly and lovely and it has pastries which is nice so, yeah!

Some sunny day | oh this one, this one is so soft and so sweet, the fluffiest of fluffs. it has mexican james, chilean remus, little harry and little luna <3 a day at the beach <3

light as a feather, soft as a kiss | my first drarry <3 love a good pinning and pathetic draco just as the next guy

(shout out to as warm as the calabrian sun that was one kudos away from making it to this list)

Do you respond to comments?

I do but not as often as I should, I have a lot of unanswered comments in my inbox but one of my goals for this year is to answer all of them, I love comments and I have this idea that maybe people don't comment because they see I don't answer comments that often :/

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I wouldn't say the angstiest ending because i like happy endings but slow dancing in the dark is the angstiest fic I have, though i want to believe it's more of a hopeful ending :•) (the people who read it might disagree)

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

like i said, i like happy endings but if I have to choose, maybe some sunny day, it's has a pretty sweet ending I think!

Do you write crossovers?

not really, no!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

nope!

Do you write smut?

I have but it's not posted yet! you can get back to me a month from now tho...

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that I know of!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no but I’m waiting for my friends to shoot the shot with me…….

What's your all-time favorite ship?

drarry my beloveds <3

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

The Empire of the Sun, it was a big project of mine, one i really liked! it was a jegulus dystopian au, I had the whole idea drafted but I've seen how people treat fics and authors in this fandom, specifically with this pairing and that kinda made me. not want to continue writing it, honestly. Also it's a big ass fic so, I don't think I'll ever finish it anyway.

What are your writing strengths?

I think maybe inner dialogue, I like to ramble a lot inside my little puppet's head so, probably that. I'm kind of an oblivious self-deprecating author so I'm very Unaware of these things.

What are your writing weaknesses?

A year ago I would've said my inability to finish anything but that's not true anymore so, probably the lack of flexibility, sometimes i want something to make sense and i research and I spiral that something is not quite right when in reality this is fucking fiction and i need to calm down and remember is not that serious!! (also long ass sentences like this one... not even a comma im Insane)

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

All in, I even have dialogue in french and spanish in my fics so. I particularly appreciate it when the author leaves the translation in the notes so i know what they're talking about hehe

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

Good Omens, I have a azicrow/ineffable husband's fic in my drafts so, maybe that will see the light of day someday! also, Agatha All Along, agathario, those two tempt me to write something for them....

What's your favorite fic you've written?

About Time, Scars and the Brightest Stars, that fic is like, my baby and I'm so proud of how is coming along! can't wait for you to read it!!!

no pressure tags: @static-radio-ao3 @residentrookie @ecstarry @kaaaaaaarf @aeoneskova @rae-lune @inevitablestars @velanavis @emlovessid @itsjaywalkers and OPEN TAG!!