#so i just have to deal with whatever happens

[flamingpudding]

Little Snippets #6

(A/N: Vote winner so I did my best to finish this)

"Screw it, i am done..." Danny grumbled as he stepped onto the watchtower through a portal, ignoring the startled heroes around him, or his own rather disheveled state. His green glowing eyes surveyed the room he was in for a brief moment before his eyes zeroed in on the one hero that caused to much work for him.

"YOU!" He pointed an accusing finger at the red clad hero before floating over and grabbing the hero by the front of his hero suit. "Do you have any idea how much work you cause me!"

Danny got one confused blink before he launched into a rather thorough explanation of what he just went through fixing 20 different timelines that got created because of one flashpoint while shaking the Flash like he was a ragdoll, ignoring the other heroes around him.

Clark, who arrived a little late to the meeting, looked around the meeting room confused. He glanced to the side to one of his hero colleagues. "Is there....?"

"A white haired floating teen boy giving Barry the lecture of a lifetime?" Oliver cut in arms crossed as he watched on. "Yes, there is."

Clark blinked, looking back at the scene and then back at Oliver. "And..."

"And Bruce is actually taking notes and enjoying Barry getting lectured to an inch of his speedster life while also getting information on time itself? Yes he is." Oliver added an, his tone slightly frustrated but also happy that he wasn't at the receiving end of the teen boy's rant. The kid had been going on about different time lines and the multiverse theory as well as how Barry apparently created several different timelines any time a new flashpoint happened or the past gets seemingly changed. Oliver wasn't even sure the kid was breathing with the way he had been talking non stop.

"And for the record! Changing the past does not automatically fix your present! You just created an entirely new timeline! Do you know how many times I had to fix these? You left so many unattended timelines! I would be rich now if I had gotten a dollar for every time I or my siblings had to fix the stuff you did! Did you ever hear about the multiverse theory?! Hell you are heroes! Didn't you deal with other universes already!?"

The kid rambled on and Clark was pretty sure he wasn't hearing the kid breath in once, which was worrying in so many different levels. But a little traitor part of his mind was actually finding the situation quiet funny.

"Oh and don't get me started on your spawns!" Clark winced a little as he heard the floating boy breath in for the first time in his entire rant before launching into another rant about how it wasn't just Barry but his entire family. Next to him Oliver chucked finding the moment simply funny end enjoying the show of Barry, aka the Flash getting lectured by a floating teen boy.

Though they partially wondered why Bruce wasn't stepping in but then again, the kids rant was... rather informative if he wasn't cursing at Barry's entire family.

A little earlier that day...

Danny groaned as a green note fluttered onto his desk in the middle of his English exam. His head hit the desk and he was sure he was creating some sort of misunderstanding and appearing like he didn't study enough for this exam. Which for once he did, he actually had managed to get time to study for this exam for once. And that despite all the work that had been piling up lately.

The fun fact was that work didn't pile up because of some ghost king title or something, or his rogues dogpiling on him. No it piled up because of a hero organisation outside of Amity. Now don't get him wrong, he admires these heroes. The ones from outer space are his favorites even. But unknown to them they caused im a lot of work ever since clockwork started to mentor him.

Danny glanced at his English exam and then at the note before his head hit the desk again.

Just one day... was one day to much to ask?

He blames whatever hero was at fault this time as he couldn't concentrate on is exam anymore. He barely remembers finishing it as he hurried out of the classroom, forgetting to give Sam and Tucker an explanation as he went ghost and hurried of to the ghost zone. Danny's eye twitch a little when he noticed Clockworks amused expression.

"What is it this time?" Danny groaned already knowing he wouldn't like what he was going to hear.

"Another flashpoint was created. You know what this means." Clockwork chucked handing him a time medallion and Danny groaned even more.

"Can't Dan or Dani..." He started but Clockwork cut him off with an amused headshake. "No, they are currently busy with another job I gave them."

Reluctantly Danny nodded and stepped through the time portal. While he knew, he would actually only be gone for a minute at most in the present, it still annoyed him that he had to constantly fix time. And most of the time it was because of one specific hero at that. He was not looking forward on how many different timelines he had to fix right now now. this was going to take a while too. Even if only maybe a minute will pass in his timeline.

He still had bruises from the last 20 timelines he fixed. And in all honesty he was getting tired of this kid of work, he was partially sure Clockwork was him now, so he wouldn't have to do this himself. Or the ancient of time was getting a kick out of watching Danny fumble while fixing other timelines.

He yelped as he dodged velocraptors right after coming out of the time portal. "SERIOUSLY?! THE MESOZOIC ERA THIS TIME TOO?! WHAT AM I EVEN SUPOSED TO FIX HERE?!" He yelled at nothing in particular. That was it, this time, this time he decided he would finally go and pay these heroes a visit and make them aware how much work they had been causing him...

[hms-no-fun]

also let's be real. "just get a library card" really doesn't take scarcity into account.

i live in seattle which has a big & relatively well-funded public library system... in which i have found it chronically difficult to get access to any of the things i've gone to the library to find! which is perfectly understandable on the physical media side-- if the library has 13 copies of ursula k leguin's left hand of darkness and they're all checked out, well, that's just how it is sometimes! it sucks to want to read one of the great classics of speculative science fiction for free only to find that it's not available and has 20 holds on it besides, but whatever, that's fine, i don't need to read the physical version, i can just get the ebook and it's not a big deal at all---

wait. hold on. wait. i'm sorry, what? hold on, excuse me?? what do you mean they only have 33 "copies" of left hand of darkness on ebook? it's a freaking ebook! there's no material scarcity here, it's a digital file and not even a particularly big one that can be reproduced via the complicated process of hitting ctrl+c and then hitting ctrl+v, at no cost to anyone. this was in fact the liberatory promise of the ebook, and much digital media besides-- in a data environment without scarcity of materials, access to information is instantaneous, infinitely reproducible, and virtually cost-free.

which is of course a great deal for readers but a terrible deal for publishers. i mean, shit, it's not even that bad a deal, they just think it is because at the end of the day they have no values except the one value that is shared by every business, profit. it doesn't matter that cheap or no-cost ebooks are a social good that encourage people to read more (and more readers is good for publishers), it doesn't matter that basically everyone i know who pirates shit goes out of their way to pay for what they really care about when they can afford to do so, and of course it doesn't matter that digital files saddled with DRM are a bald-faced absurdity that reek of shameless greed at a glance. for publishers (as with all businesses), maintaining the rate of profit exceeds every other conceivable obligation. and tbh if they had their way libraries wouldn't exist. the idea of free access to anything is deplorable to capitalist firms.

and it's not just ebooks. kanopy is a streaming service that libraries nationwide are hooked up to, and the depth of its collection exceeds basically every other streaming service by miles. and all you need is a library card! ah, but here's the catch-- your library membership doesn't grant you unlimited access to kanopy's offerings the way a netflix subscription lets you watch everything on netflix forever. instead, you have a set number of "tickets" allotted to you per month (the amount you get depends on what kind of library you're using) and once you've used your tickets, that's it. my library card gives me 15 tickets per month. most movies cost 2 tickets, shorts cost 1, and seasons of tv cost 5. now, am i using all 15 tickets every month? nope! i basically never use kanopy because the very notion of the ticket system causes me to question every choice-- what if i pick something and don't like it, that's a waste of tickets! which is objectively silly, but that's what happens when humans are confronted with scarcity. and this is helped none at all by the fact that upon spending your tickets on a movie, you've got 72 hours to watch it before it expires. for a season of television, you get a week. a week! for an entire season of television!! sorry babe but i just am not the binge-watching type, you give me this kind of limitation and i'm going straight to the pirate mines out of sheer spite. and no, before you ask, your tickets don't roll over from month to month. obviously.

it's the same story with every type of digital media that libraries seek to provide-- publishers/labels/studios demanding enforced artificial scarcity, a functional means test against letting the poors get too much for free. and yet! you can get a spotify subscription for basically nothing! you can get a netflix subscription for basically nothing! you can get an audible subscription for basically nothing! and such services certainly have their fair share of copy protections built in, they are far more generous than the library-accessible alternative. and you know what those platforms all have in common? THEY'RE THE ONES STEALING PROFITS FROM THE PUBLISHERS. it's not libraries giving out too many ebooks, it's all these tech company grifters middle-manning their way into already-corrupt industries to pocket what little profits those publishers weren't already stealing from the creators whose work they sell. but that's okay because they're big corporations that have signed licensing agreements and at least they contribute some profits unlike those mooching libraries. anyway let's sue the internet archive into oblivion, let's throw the book at libraries, we need to curtail piracy, we can't have these welfare queens strutting around etc etc etc. it's the same old story. fuck poor people for being poor and wanting access to things they can't afford. fuck libraries, fuck social services, fuck food stamps and healthcare and rent assistance, i have to get mine and if you've got a problem with that then i'll see you in court.

by all means, get a library card if you can. use your library if you have one and support it whenever and however possible. but understand that piracy for many is the only remaining alternative, and it is unfortunately often better than what's offered by libraries precisely because they're hamstrung by the greed of corporations. this is a big, complicated, messy issue with no one-size-fits-all solution, and finger-wagging at people pirating books just is not the way

as a fellow Public Library Enthusiast i am begging people to consider the fact that not everywhere has an accessible public library or indeed public libraries at all. just saying “get a library card” at strangers when you have no idea about their background or their life isn’t very helpful. let them pirate in peace

[b0r3dtod3ath]

Survived a cricket match!

♡ navigation / request info / f1 masterlist

♡ warnings: none

♡ an: requests are open and give me some feedback on this!

It was one of these rare weeks where Oscar wasn’t tied up with racing commitments, and he’d managed to snag a couple of tickets for the big game.

You, on the other hand, knew nothing about cricket. Sure, you had caught a glimpse a few times when Oscar was watching a match on his phone but you never fully grasped it.

You two arrive at the sun-soaked stadium that was filled with team colors, waving flags and chanting. Oscar tried to explain the basics of the game during your walk to the seats but most of it went in one ear and exited through another.

As the match started you tried to follow along but failed. You looked at Oscar, whose eyes full of excitement and anticipation looked at the field. You didn’t want to interrupt him but you were really lost. Finally you spoke up in a half-whisper “Oscar, I don’t think I get it. So it’s like baseball? But longer? I have no idea what’s happening”.

He chuckled and squeezed your hand, finding your confusion cute. "Okay, so the bowler-" he pointed to the man with the ball, "-is trying to hit the stumps behind the batsman. And the batsman-" he shifted his finger, "-is trying to score runs by hitting the ball and running back and forth between the wickets”.

You blinked. "Runs? Wickets? What are stumps again?"

"Alright, let’s start simpler," he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

For the next twenty minutes, Oscar patiently explained the rules. You tried to follow, but every time you thought you understood something, a new term would pop up and scramble your brain.

At one point, you leaned into Oscar. “Why is it called a ‘googly’? That’s not a real word”.

He laughed, “It’s a type of delivery by a bowler. Trust me, it’s a real thing”.

"Oscar, this is so confusing. Can’t they just run laps or something? That’d be easier to follow”.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re impossible” he teased.

"Not my fault! Who even decided to make a game last this long?" you shot back and slumped in your seat “I think I’m going to bring a book tomorrow”.

The next day, you showed up armed with a book and a thermos of tea. Oscar saw you take out your stuff and burst out laughing. "Tea now? Are you setting up a whole library in the stands?"

"Hey, cricket’s long. I’m prepared for the marathon," you replied, holding up your supplies. "You focus on whatever this is, and I’ll focus on my chapters. Deal?"

"Deal," he replied, clearly amused. "But don’t come crying to me if you miss the best parts".

"Don't worry, I won't" you say opening your book.

Throughout the game, you occasionally peeked up at the field when Oscar got particularly animated. "See that?" he shouted at one point, gesturing wildly.

"Totally," you replied without looking up from your book.

"You didn’t see a thing," he accused, narrowing his eyes.

You grinned. "But I heard the crowd, so I know something good happened." He shook his head, laughing, and gave your hand a squeeze before turning back to the game.

When the final innings began, you leaned over to him. "So… are we winning?".

He sighed dramatically. "You don’t even know who we are, do you?"

"The yellow ones?” you asked hesitantly.

Oscar laughed, shaking his head. “Yes, the yellow ones. You’re lucky you’re cute”. He winked. Despite your disinterest, he didn’t seem annoyed.

Apparently the game ended with your team winning and the two of you were making your way to the car. "So, what do you think?”

You smiled, “Honestly? It was long and I still don’t think I get it. But I had fun just being here with you”.

Oscar wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “That’s all that matters. Besides, now you can say you’ve survived a cricket match”.

You laughed, leaning into him “Survived is the key word”.

“Thanks for coming with me, even if it’s not your thing”.

December 29, 2024

[devildomditzy]

“aaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

The sound of a scream rarely can pull your attention away from your D.D.D. nowadays.

Oh no, you know far better by now.

The days where once you panicked with worry, quickly stumbling over yourself to find which one of the brothers was in danger were long over - now that you know the only real danger in this house hold is the fact that they are dangers to themselves.

You lay lazily on your bed, scrolling through your Devilgram feed on your phone when you hear it: a scream off in the distance, slowly getting louder.

Actually, not louder. Closer.

You can hear it through the thick, oak door that divides you from the rest of the house. There’s some extra noise there too. Perhaps, one or two pairs of footsteps quickly falling on the hardwood floor in succession out in the hallway.

The only action you bother to take is glancing up from your device just to make sure your door is shut, and locked.

You expect it, you could even count down the seconds till it happens. Like clockwork, ever so predictable. The footsteps only get louder until you hear the inevitable banging on the other side of the wood.

Knocking, vigorous knocking. A loud fist slamming against your door so hard and so frantically you thought it might break.

“MC! Are ya in there? Can ya open the door please? Preferably within the next ten seconds.”

You roll your eyes, not bothering to move. Nope, you don’t want any part in this. You can ignore it all you want though, you know how persistent he is. Mammon always gets what he wants.

“MC, please. Ya gotta open up. I’ll do anythin’ ya want for the whole day- no, week if ya let me in!”

Now, that was an interesting proposition. Having a demon butler doesn’t sound too shabby. But Mammon isn’t Barbatos. And the idiot forgets he’s already pact bound to you, forced to do whatever you command on a whim.

You roll your eyes, calling out to him from your bed. “Hmm. Tempting, but not good enough.”

“Not good enough?! Whaddya mean not good enough you lousy-“

He’s cut off by a monstrous roar, one you’d distinctly recognize anywhere. Oh good, Levi summoned Lotan.

Mammon’s knocking gets faster as he pulls on your door handle, practically shaking the frame.

“Please please please please please!”, he pleads with you, sounding increasingly more panicked.

“Okay, okay, fine! I’ll take ya out to that nice restaurant you’ve been yappin’ about all week, that really fancy one!”

Now, you know Mammon good and well, so you know good and well to be suspicious of him and his motives. But, you trust him well enough to not flake out on a deal. He’s a business man and all that.

“Tonight?”, you question, trying to dull the hint of excitement in your tone.

“Yes! Tonight, fine whatever! Just open up already!”

You hear an angry shout of Mammon’s name that could only come from the third eldest getting louder, nearer into earshot.

“Fine.”

You open the door with no warning nor fanfare, causing Mammon, who had been practically leaning his whole body against it, to fall directly flat onto his face in front of you.

You hear a muffled “thanks” from the floor as you quickly shut and lock your door, effectively hiding the troublemaker from the sea monster (and his owner’s) eyesight.

“What’d you do this time?”, you question, arms crossed and peering at the man on your floor with feigned annoyance.

He slowly raises himself up, pushing off the floor and sitting up. He puts a hand to his head, rubbing at a tender area that must have hit the hardwood as you reach out a hand to help him up.

“Argh… What makes ya think I did somethin?”, he grumps. “Do ya really have that little faith in me?”

All it takes is an eyebrow raise from your unamused face before he growls at you- and spills his misdeeds.

“I thought maybe Levi wouldn’t notice if some of those little anime dolls of his went missin’”.

You sigh at him and shake your head in disappointment, multitasking as you take a look at the spot he was rubbing on his forehead, pushing his bangs out of the way to see if it bruised.

“How many did you take?”

“Only one!”, he says, almost as if he’s insulted that you’d insinuate that he took more- but then he falls apart under your gaze.

“Or three.”

“How about you give them back, huh?”, you muse, guiding him to sit down on your bed while you move about the room, walking over to a small antique looking ice chest you kept in the room as a mini fridge and opening the lid, peering inside before moving to your desk to grab something from the drawer.

“Cause I kinda loaned them out-“

You throw a dangerous look over your shoulder at him causing him to flinch and gulp.

“to a pawn shop.”

You make a few small ‘tsk’ sounds at him, reaching into the chest to pull out a handful of ice, wrapping them in the handkerchief you pulled from your desk drawer.

You walk over to him and place it over the red mark appearing on his forehead. Using your hand not holding the makeshift ice pack, you grab one of his, moving it up towards the bundle to replace your own with his, making him hold it instead.

“You know Lucifer’s gonna kill you AND Levi when he finds the hallways flooded with sea water for the second time in a month”, you say, taking his chin in your hand and carefully tilting his head side to side to look for any other cuts, scraps, or marks. You could pretend to be annoyed all you want. You both knew you didn’t mind playing nurse for him.

“Why do ya think I’m hidin’ from em ?”

You let out a small laugh, but shake your head at him all the same.

“Well, I’m looking forward to our impromptu date, but first we’re gonna head to that pawn shop to buy back his figurines, okay golden boy?”

He grunts at you before making eye contact and melting. He could never say no to you, not under that gaze.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll even buy him another one to go with ‘em. He’s been talkin’ about some new magical girl or whatever, I’m sure I could find one of her.”

You smile at him, cupping his cheek in your hand.

“Perfect, sounds like a plan. Let’s get going”, you smile, moving in to lay a kiss on his cheek, only stopping when you both hear a trickling sound.

You look over at your door only to find water beginning to flow underneath and into your room.

Aaaannnddd, the hallways flooded.

“We are going to have to leave through the window though.”

[blondie11067]

I think its crazy some people are dropping the show after Sinsmass/the whole Octavia thing.

I agree with the post about how complicated it is for Stolas. Also, i raise you *Child who has probably spent her whole life watching her parents NOT being a healthy couple... Or one at all*.

Now, this is important. VERY important, especially when you take in consideration that she's quite old in the middle of the divorce and her mother is an insanely manipulative narcissist. Which means, she could've not experienced half the shitty relationship it actually was and be living half a fantasy of a "happy family". Seeing how divorce can be quite difficult for children, even more if they're older and think the divorce is coming out of nowhere which makes it even harder.

Divorce is hard and it affects the relationship between child and parents regardless of how good it might be. Stolas also launched himself into a seriously unhealthy situationship he was NOT prepared for, much less capable to handle it. This divides his attention from being solely on Octavia (after it being all about her and her only) to his pet ✨BLITZY✨. So Octavia is growing up, being a teen, living in a house with parents who are NOT a couple or remotely affectionate with each other, and now this stranger is spending a lot of time with her dad (lets note that this is on Stolas, since he was the one seeking Blitz and not viceversa. For blitz it's business, transactional, his payment for 'renting' Stolas grimoire).

Then the divorce happens. Lets say whatever cause she still spends time with Stolas and he's doing pretty good (feeling better than he probably felt after years of living with Stella). Then he's so focused on his situationship and his developing feelings that he naturally shifts more focus onto Blitz. Then they break up and he's in Shambles.

Stella surely was also finding ways to keep Stolas from spending time with Octavia. So Stolas being too emotionally devastated after the break up doesn't help his lack of presence in Octavia's life.

"Why does he hate her more than he loves me?"

Octavia knows her parents don't love each other. That's probably why she does not react much to him ans Blitz at the beginning cuz "hey! At least her dsd is happy now, right?"

Still, she needs to know he loves her. And Stolas has proven to speak too much without sufficient actions to prove his words. He promises things and forgets (cuz he has his own shit to deal with. All reasonable) but his daughter needs her father.

Sadly, Stolas also dug his own grave.

"When I'm gone you'll be okay."

Stolas did not spend enough time with his daughter. A daughter who was no longer living with him. A daughter living through a divorce, a separation, and a mother who does not want her to be with Stolas.

Then he sacrificed himself for his great love!... And it cost him what he loves most, his daughter.

"And when you're gone I will be okay."

He proved to her that SHE wasn't the first thing he thought about. Not after the break up (yes, he was heartbroken but time with his beloved daughter would've been a healthy distraction and good for the both of them). Not when he risked his life, HER DADDY'S LIFE. Not when he just had his visiting rights REVOKED for 100 years.

I mean, seriously for someone who claims to love his daughter so much, he did not thought about how his actions would affect his daughter nor the fact that he would NOT SEE her for a fucking century - regardless of the fact that they're pretty much eternal.

Being there is important for a kid, for YOUR kid. When you prove to them they're not a priority, it stings. It shows them they can't count on you.

She even says it in her song,

"Was it just another lie."

"Why you lied to my face?"

"And I'll know that i was always right to doubt you."

And during such a rough time, it might just lead them to think that maybe they aren't loved.

🦉🦉🦉

Now yoy have this teen goung through all of that but, believe it or not, kids have eyes. Kids pay attention to their parents.

So she throws it back to him, how he never kept his promises, how all he did was lie, how he didn't love her as much as he loved Blitz since he ABANDONED her for him.

Octavia goes through all the drama, through all those doubts about her dad and whether or not he loves her and then... She finds a BOX full of Happy Pills!

So yes. She throws all that back to him and she blames him.... But she also blames herself.

She thinks that because of his unhappy marriage - HER parents' shitty marriage -, because of HER, Stolas was so depressed, so unhappy... That he needed ✨Happy Pills✨

"So (...) you just stayed miserable because of me?"

It's her fault his dad was miserable. He would've been better had he not stayed with his family, unhappy and forced into it.

"Was I some fucking obligation?"

She's a burden. No reason her dad left her. She was part of the reason he was miserable. Of course she'd leave her after finding happiness.

And then it all ties together with

"You lied to me once you'll lie to me again"

What goes around comes around.

"I tried so many years to make it comfortable for us; to have this family, but it was never enough. The only reason I have endured your constant insults and cruelty was for that girl to have a normal life." - Stolas S2 E1

"Also, son, you are destined to sire a precautionary addition to the Goetia family." - Paimon S2 E1

Some of you all are completely misunderstanding the second half, I am not downplaying the love Stolas has for Octavia, I am not saying that at all, what I am saying, is that Octavia is 100% going to think she was a 'obligation' when she finds out she was born to be a 'precautionary addition to the Goetia family'.

[clarii]

The Promposal

Summary: Steve’s older sister is looking forward to her senior prom, but when her date backs out at the last minute, Eddie steps up and offers to take her.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Harrington!reader

Warning: Fluff, so cute

Author's Note: Thank you for all of the love for my other published stories. I appreciate it so much. Pretend that Steve is a junior.

Y/N= Your Name

It was a crisp spring afternoon when Steve’s older sister, Y/N, found herself sitting on the porch, staring at the invitation to her senior prom. The event was only a week away, but her date, Jason, had just called the house to cancel. He'd come up with some half-baked excuse about family obligations, and Y/N knew it was just his way of backing out. She felt a knot tighten in her chest. Prom was supposed to be a magical night, something she'd dreamed of for years, but now it felt like an impossible dream.

Her younger brother, Steve, was in the living room, playing video games with his best friend Eddie when Y/N came back inside. She slung the invitation on the counter with a frustrated sigh, and Steve noticed immediately.

"What's up?" he asked, pausing his game and glancing over at her.

She didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but her disappointment was too heavy to ignore. "Jason bailed on me. He can't go to prom anymore."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Dude, that sucks. Are you still going?"

Y/N shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I'll just go with a group of friends. It won't be the same, though."

"You should totally go," Steve said. "Prom is like… the thing. I mean, it’s like, legendary."

She chuckled. "Yeah, I know. It's just… really disappointing."

Eddie, who had been sitting quietly beside Steve, looked over at her, his mischievous grin fading into something a little more thoughtful. He was tall with a scruffy look—dark hair, casual clothes, and a slightly offbeat way about him. He'd always been the goofy friend, the one who made jokes and did silly impressions to make everyone laugh. He was Steve's best friend, but recently, Y/N had begun to notice him in a different way. He was charming in his own awkward way, and there was something endearing about the way he cared about his friends.

Without thinking, Eddie suddenly stood up. "Hey, what if I take you?" he said, his voice so casual that Y/N initially thought he was joking. But when she glanced at him, his earnest expression made her pause.

"What?" she asked, unsure if she’d heard him correctly.

Eddie scratched the back of his neck nervously. "I mean, I’m not doing anything else that night. And, you know, you shouldn't miss prom just because your date bailed."

Her mouth dropped open, her mind racing. "Wait, you’re serious?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding, though his tone carried an uncertainty that softened his offer. "I know it’s last minute, but I’ll do a promposal or whatever the heck it is that you want. It’ll be fun, I promise."

Y/N blinked. Eddie? Taking her to prom? The thought was absurd, and yet, the more she thought about it, the more it felt… right. She'd known him for years. He was Steve’s best friend, but there was something else about him. And suddenly, she was wondering if she’d missed out on something all along.

"You're serious?" she repeated.

"Yeah. Totally." Eddie grinned, though it was a little sheepish. "You don't have to say yes. Just… think about it."

That night, Y/N couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Eddie was funny, sweet in his own weird way, and incredibly down-to-earth. She had always been able to count on him when things got tough, but now—she wasn’t sure when it happened—he’d started to grow on her in a way she didn’t expect.

The next day, she found herself at school, still thinking over Eddie’s unexpected offer. She saw him in the hallway, talking with Steve, his face lighting up with one of his signature goofy smiles. When their eyes met, she couldn't help but smile back. Eddie’s warmth was undeniable, and despite how odd it seemed, she felt a flutter of something in her chest. Was it really that bad of an idea?

That afternoon, Y/N decided to talk to him. She found Eddie sitting on the steps outside the school building, writing in his notebook. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to him.

"Okay, Eddie," she started, her voice nervous but determined. "I’ve thought about it… and I would like to go to prom with you."

Eddie’s head snapped up, his eyes wide in surprise. "Wait, really? You’re serious?"

"Yeah," she said, laughing at the disbelief in his voice. "You’re a pain in the butt, but you might just be the best prom date I could have."

Eddie’s grin spread across his face, and he jumped up, nearly knocking over his notebook in the process. "Yes!" he shouted, pumping his fist in the air. "You won’t regret this. I swear, I’m the best prom date you’ll ever have!"

True to his word, Eddie went all out for the promposal. It was one of the most unexpected and sweet things Y/N had ever seen. On the day before prom, Eddie showed up at her house with a giant cardboard sign that read, “Prom? Let’s Make It Legendary". He stood in front of her with the biggest grin, holding a bouquet of her favorite flowers—lilies—almost too nervous to speak.

“Um, I didn’t know if I was supposed to get down on one knee or…?” Eddie trailed off, looking at her with wide eyes.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, her heart swelling with affection for the goofy, endearing guy in front of her. "You really went all out, huh?"

"Of course," Eddie said, trying to act casual but clearly thrilled. "It’s prom. Plus, anything for you."

She stepped forward, her eyes softening as she looked at him. "You’re amazing, Eddie. I’m really glad you asked."

And just like that, everything changed. The night of prom was more magical than Y/N had ever imagined. Eddie, in his mismatched tuxedo (he claimed it was "vintage"), was the perfect mix of awkward and charming. He made her laugh all night, from his goofy dance moves to his humorous commentary on every prom tradition. But there was something deeper beneath his jokes—he was genuinely attentive, making sure she was having the best time.

As the night went on, Y/N found herself looking at Eddie, really looking at him. His way of always making her feel comfortable, and his unexpected sweetness had won her over in ways she hadn’t anticipated. He wasn’t just Steve’s best friend anymore. He was Eddie, the guy who had turned her prom night into something she would never forget.

They ended the night by walking outside under the stars, just the two of them. Y/N felt a warmth in her chest that had nothing to do with the chilly evening air. Eddie, hands in his pockets, looked over at her with a grin.

"You know, this night went way better than I thought it would," Eddie said, his voice quieter now. "Not that I didn’t expect it to be fun, but… I don’t know. It’s been… really great."

Y/N smiled softly. "Yeah, it really has."

She paused, feeling something shift in her heart. Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed Eddie’s hand, her fingers intertwining with his. He looked down at their hands, then up at her, his eyes wide with surprise and something else—something more tender.

"Eddie," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "I think… I think I’ve been waiting for you all along. I always pictured prom with the most amazing guy that would treat me like a princess. I.... I was looking at the wrong places, it turns out it was my brother's best friend who always came to visit us."

His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to disappear. Eddie leaned down slightly, as if to make sure he wasn’t imagining it, and then he smiled, a smile that made her heart race.

"I think I’ve been waiting for you too," he said, before leaning in and pressing a soft, sweet kiss to her lips.

It was everything she had been hoping for, everything she didn’t know she needed, all wrapped up in the most unexpected, perfect night. Eddie was the guy who had turned her prom night into something unforgettable. The same guy who from that day made her feel like a princess with her own prince charming.

[azulsluver]

Can i get yandere Floyd, jade and Azul with reader that keep getting save by rsa student? You know how heroine in most otome gamd usually got saved by this protagonist and fall for them?

I wonder how they will react knowing that the stupid cliche is actually happening and in this one, they're the villain.

My lovely trio! I love cliche scenarios like these, but there’s never a good ending to them in this blog..

You’ve ever seen a jealous Floyd? Now the word jealous and Floyd shouldn’t be in the same sentence. The look on his face is one of disbelief as an rsa student hold you close while checking over your injuries. The pristine white uniform and silky voice is enough for him to get up and personal.

Floyd expects you to pull away. Come back to him by his side so he can snidely tell Prince Charming that you’re alright. Failing to meet these expectations are met with a heavy tension brewing. A fight is bound to happen. If you curry in favor of another’s well being you would get the message, it’s hard not to, not when Floyd is hunching and gritting his teeth.

But to have this done multiple times pisses him off. He doesn’t want to share, it’s his turn to play with you. It honestly overstimulates him a lot, you get your injuries sorted AFTER he’s done.

Whether you put him as the protective type, or he doesn’t actually see you as a person but his ‘thing’ to play until he’s bored. Floyd enjoys reminding you on just why he keeps you around. See, he jabs and nags you like an annoying brother in public, a bit extreme since he has no problem letting you humiliate yourself. But when he’s got you cornered and alone he’s much more needy and serious. Somewhere away from everyone, away from people who sympathize you, give you looks of pity, they don’t matter. And he hates nothing more than people getting into business they shouldn’t bother themselves with.

Jade holds up his hands in fake surrender as you’re swept off your feet and into the arms of another. Not just a student, an rsa student. Jade is caught off guard at being confronted so boldly but easily masks it with a narrowed closed eye smile. He meant no harm, just fun poking. But the student isn’t convinced when you’re practically on the verge of a panic attack.

Annoying. Jade confidently uses his status and height to intimidate people around him. He’s so used to people just watching. Watching and shutting up. But this idiot wasn’t doing either. But he can’t be brash now. Smoothing out his tie, he gets right on to justify his actions. A story that comes out of his mouth is too convincing, and just a small glance towards you he expects you to follow along. He expected one day someone would have the guts to call him out on his cruelty. That’s why he trained you to swallow and nod.

He’s pulling you away from the student with a gentle tug, you’re even heartbroken at how easily they bought it as your face collides with his chest. He’s sorry he’s scared you to death, he’ll brew you some tea and get your favorite snacks, so bury your face in his chest quickly and let out a small okay. You earned yourself a more comfortable day with Jade.

Jade is very, very unhappy with this incident. And many more to come with these snobby rsa students. He won’t let them touch a hair on your head again. As long as you continue to stay by his side, he’s much more kind. Not in the way you would want. The subtle possessiveness is hard to convey under his gentlemen like face.

Where Azul watches from afar in the midst of chaos, he’s more stuck into his studies and work. He refuses to engage with you or those hooligans, whatever happens to you isn’t his problem. Drowning over deals, during times of interrogation he’s more violent and demanding, slipping away from his calm and calculating manner. Just when he thought he could go on with his day, he’s too busy laying in bed with the image of you with a good boy.

An over thinker. Because people don’t help you, he won’t help you, yet it makes him pull at his hair when he recalls your face of shock. Gentleness. It’s almost enough to make him vomit from the sheer stress, if he wasn’t such a stuck up you could look at him just like that. Lean into his touch with a shudder and pout in relief.

It takes a long time before Azul could step up. Snapping at anyone getting close to you or showing an ounce of respect. You learn to fear, fear feeds and he wants to protect you. Azul Ashengrotto wants to keep you. Do you hear how stupid that sounds? He’s a hypocrite, a selfish lowlife who thinks he deserves your affection. But you don’t have much of a choice to begin with.

A tug and push. He’s always indifferent about your sad reality. He wants no trouble but would like to stick his nose in places, but to be outshined through something a child would think of, playing knight in shining armor when he’s no better than the rest. Azul would imagine that it’s he who you could relax around. You’re the only person he has trouble keeping up with his big boss personage. Jealous, jealous, jealous, even he won’t deny it.

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 5

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5])

question for you: it that only a reflection from set lights, or did agatha have tears in her eyes?

because, well, this is agatha. she's putting on a show, so you know that she's not as confident as she wants to appear. I imagine that suddenly turning into a ghost is not an easy adjustment. super interesting from a nerdy scholary prospective, but psychologically?? idk

billy, as usual, has to beg her to PLEASE BE SERIOUS FR

I toOK A calCULateD RiSK

whatever you say you big loser

then she demonstrates being a ghost by trying to slap billy. it's scientific and not ridiculous at all

at long last, and very, very late in the game she explains the nature of the Road to billy - and notice how she's still not able to be completely honest, despite all the previous moments they shared. the song means the world to her, but she's not ready to admit that yet.

the Road was very very very much real, and all the deaths that happened do count

I'll die on the hill that billy is a good person at heart. the tower, the potential for tragedy and destruction, is just that, a potential that the people in his life - the kaplans, eddie, the coven and yes, even agatha - are helping keep unfulfilled.

agatha shakes her head, gently, carefully. and we can see there has been some growth here: the first time billy supposedly killed someone she went on a whole speech about how Killing Makes You a Survivor Actually, a speech that was more about her than him. she's at least considering his feelings now

and btw agatha's "death" not being final like the others' doesn't cheapen the message at all. these are shows about dealing with / accepting mortality, and that is a journey agatha has just started. she (somehow, crying and screaming and flying by the seat of her pants) cheated death and will get herself a new body, and that's just one step forward and two steps back on her way to learn to finally stop running.

remember when nicky was upset about killing witches and agatha avoided the subject by singing a song to him, because she didn't know how to relieve a child of the guilt that was hers and only hers? she is trying now. she sees how this is devastating billy and she (badly) tries to absolve him. she is the one who lured the coven into a trap, who didn't disclose the nature of the Road, who very much killed alice.

and mark my words: she knows who sharon is, she absolutely remembers her name. I think she feels the most guilty about killing sharon, because with alice it was kind of an accident, but she went out of her way to doom this poor little lady, and she's been distancing herself from her with callous jokes since the beginning.

look at her face. this is Empathy. I've talked a lot about how for agatha it's easier to feel empathy for people with similar stories and backgrounds to hers. she felt it for wanda and ran from it. billy has the added quality of being perfect son material (I'll get to that in a minute) and right now? she knows what he's going through. she was once a girl born with the power to kill people, a power she didn't know how to stop, and it ruined her life and doomed everyone who crossed her path.

and she's still trying to have her cake and eat it too! consoling billy while still keeping her "whatever I don't care anyway" fake vibes. I'd say that she's matured a little, sure! from toddler to at least first grader. she even dares to roll her eyes when mentioning jen, this actual piece of ghostly turd.

please please please let jen come back in a marvel property that doesn't suck / hopefully written by jac and her team. please please please let us see what she does next

"should I go check on how agatha and billy are doing? nope screw them bye bye losers omw to rebuild my empire!" *nyoooooom*

(I don't know what I'd like to see more, jen becoming a force for good right away or still on the road to recovery, clashing heads with agatha.)

agatha takes a deep breath (can ghosts actually breathe tho) and gives billy a speech reminiscent of what she told nicky all those years ago. if you want to survive, get used to this feeling. we are supposed to read this interaction with the added context of her relationship with her own son (hence the callback). so why does agatha gives billy the nicky treatment now?

I think billy is all that agatha hoped and wanted nicky to be - a partner in crime who can keep up with her intelligence and sense of humor, a powerful witch she can pass her knowledge to, and a son who will love her and stick by her side no matter what. billy is the whole package, from the very beginning she couldn't see him as just the carrier of the very power she needed to bring nicky back; another hunger took over, the hunger to claim him and raise him as her own.

which brings us to the crucial question: why does agatha want a son? why did she have nicky in the first place? the answer, in true agatha fashion, is selfish, flawed, tragic, human. she wanted to fix her own childhood. she wanted to raise a version of herself who had all the love and support of a mother. and so she made sure that nicky had what she never had, including books and lessons to learn magic from. she tried to make him immune to life's heartbreaks - get used to this feeling, like she never could (because she never managed to make her own heart impervious, she only hid it away and tried to ignore it.) she essentially imagined her child as a a mini-me who committed all the same atrocities with no guilt or remorse and the added bonus of a mother cheerleading them on. another cheat sheet, a way to fix herself without actually working on her issues.

except nicky wasn't exactly what she had expected. he didn't like killing witches. instead of a talent for magic, he showed a talent for music and, credit where credit's due, agatha encouraged and nurtured it. when nicky died, agatha was on her way to accept that he was his own wonferful person and that being a parent is an exercise in selflessness. despite all her mistakes, she did one fundamental thing right: she loved nicky so freaking much, and was genuinely loved in return. who knows what could have happened if they were allowed to continue on that path.

billy is also very much his own person (not to mention almost and adult) so he simply won't let agatha project her issues all over him. (agatha is like, "challenge accepted.")

her love for billy is not in question, but now she has to be selfless and admit he doesn't exactly need mentoring in serial killing. what did billy need from the Road after all? it wasn't power. it was a sense of identity, a community, help in finding himself and his brother. agatha knows this perfectly, she's just *gestures in her general direction* like that.

go to episode 9 part 6

[kibbles-bits]

Question, what DOES Val find attractive about Vox?

I'm going to assume this is for the Heaven's Best AU because I… wouldn't know the answer to the canon one? (though Val's audition sheet including the information of sleeping only "with 10's… and Vox" means he likes Vox and doesn't consider him actually attractive. Love it. Hilarious.)

So, what does Valentino in Heaven's Best find attractive about Vox?

His personality and he's mad about it.

That's the short answer! The rest of this is just me yapping.

He finds other things attractive soon afterwards but it's the personality and character traits that got him and he won't admit it.

Canon!Val wouldn't like HB!Vox, but HB!Val is a little different.

He can not relax.

With no partners, Val's had to lean on his more violent traits to keep control of his territory so there wasn't much time to relax. If he wanted to go out he always has to keep an eye out for other demons who might try to attack him and he's lived like that for most of his years in Hell.

He allies with and eventually befriends Velvette - which is still a recent development. Fear for Velvette's safety plus preserving his delicate new image she's built for him means he can't be as violent as he was before which stresses him out a lot. He can't really bring himself to trust anyone else.

So that's where he's at when Vox joins the picture.

Seeing the Exorcists being killed on TV was something he found interesting - it made them feel more like people he can have sex with so color him interested when he hears two angelic beings have moved down to hell. He means to proposition one politely, whichever one he runs into first. He knows he can't force it. Not only is Vox an angel and naturally more powerful, but he's allied with a seraphim and the rulers of Hell. Val talks shit but he's not going to risk their wrath, especially when whatever happens to him will, by extension, affect Velvette. He's not immediately physically attracted to Vox so after failing to make a deal, he lets him leave without any trouble. A little miffed about how it went, though.

Later, when Vox has his Oopsie, Val tries to make him feel better about it. Some of it is because seeing an angel have a breakdown sits wrong with him, but the rest of it is because he wants to see how much use he can get out of Vox now that he's so delicate. Maybe get him to kick Angel out of the hotel. He has blackmail, after all. How would Emily react to her BFF going on a little murder spree?

Except before Val can even hint at the blackmail, Vox threatens him first the moment they're alone in Val's home. Which is bold, considering Val just saw how 'well' he took his first murders. But then a murderer is a murderer and Vox is distraught, who knows what he'll do? Val decides provoking him isn't worth it and just… let's him vent it out. And it turns out he's kinda hot in a weird way when he's venting and when he grabs him and demeans him and--

ANYWAY Val promises not to tell a soul what happened.

And Vox imprints on him? Weirdly? He doesn't understand why (yet) but as long as Valentino doesn't intentionally harm him or Emily, Vox is a pretty amiable guy. He won't smite him for fun and he minds his own business. Doesn't try to tell him how awful he is. He says how much better he is than Val, yet is still the one following him around so Val just finds that funny rather than offensive. It's cute, how dumb he is sometimes.

The two eventually sleep together.

Vox isn't a Sinner, he has no interest in Val's power or territory, he doesn't even live in Hell, he hates it there. So Val doesn't have to worry about any 'power grabs' or Vox trying to take advantage of him. He can't push Vox around (Vox pushes back HARD) and also doesn't feel too threatened by him. Val finds out it takes a lot to actually push Vox into committing another Oopsie, so much he doesn't actually see it happen again for a long time. Vox doesn't interfere with his treatment of Angel so, the blackmail? Unnecessary. He starts to trust Vox not to hurt him.

As a Winner who's been in Heaven for like, 50 years, Vox is naturally more friendly than anyone Val's ever personally met in Hell. He's also more eager to just hang out (did you think I was joking?) Vox keeps blabbering to him about all kinds of things and venting and Val actually likes??? what he has to say??? He gets to know Vox very well - what he's really like and things he hasn't told others. Having another person, someone he doesn't own and isn't manipulating, an equal, trust him does things to him (Gee, Val, how come Eternal Damnation let you have TWO friends?)

Vox earns his trust completely one day when he helps him in a territory dispute that had nothing to do with him. Apparently, Vox has been watching him for a long time when he's not with him. People would find that creepy, but Val knows Vox and, yeah, it is, but he likes it because it means Vox cares. And he likes knowing Vox will have his back.

Val is, finally, able to relax when they're together (publicly and privately), and he really values that.

But if you ask him he'd say he's attracted to Vox's screen brightness or his stupid little sweater vest.

[finelinevogue]

useless

summary - azriel helps you put your shirt on after you’ve broken your arm

word count - +1k

🦇•🤎•🦇•🤎•🦇•🤎•🦇•🤎•🦇•🤎•🦇•🤎•🦇

“You’re going to hurt yourself.”

You huffed in annoyance at Azriel stating the obvious, not because he was stating the obvious but because of what he was talking about.

“It’s not my fault I broke my arm.” You pouted.

You groaned and threw your shirt to the ground, giving up completely with trying to put it on.

Azriel was clearly taunting you as he slipped a shirt over his head, his wings popping out the back.

You gave him the dead-eye look as he crossed his tanned arms across his chest, raising one of his eyebrows as he watched you.

Damn him and his beauty.

“What’s going on here?” Cassian opened your bedroom door to peak in.

“Y/N’s being a brat:” Azriel said quickly, not looking away from you.

“Riight… I’m going to leave whatever weird foreplay thing is going on here…” Cassian said awkwardly, leaving the room slowly and shutting the door behind him.

Azriel didn’t crack a smile, but you unfortunately did.

You quickly wiped the smirk off your face though, knowing Azriel would take advantage of it somehow.

“You wish this was foreplay, but the only action you’re getting tonight is with your own hand.” You muttered to Azriel.

You wandered past him with your shirt and onto the balcony just off to the side of your room, needing some air before you tried again.

If it weren’t for those rebels in the city you wouldn’t have fallen, which means your arm would still be fine. As it happens, though, the rebels were more important to seek out and get rid of than you and your arm. If a broken arm was the result of stopping bad people do bad things, then so be it.

Didn’t stop it from being annoying to deal with.

Simple chores were now a pain to do.

Things like making a cup of tea, or making Azriel dinner, cleaning or writing up reports for Rhysand were near impossible now. It left you very dependent on others - on your mate, Azriel.

“Will you stop being so stubborn.” Azriel said from where he stood, leaning against the door frame to the balcony.

“Stop, Azriel.”

He sighed knowing you were getting frustrated - something he knew because you never used his full name with him.

“I didn’t realise me trying to help you make me a jerk.” He said bravely.

Sometimes they key with you was to keep pushing.

You scrunched up your shirt and threw it onto the floor.

You walked to the stone balcony, holding your broken arm in your other and cupping them protectively across your chest.

The sun had set perfectly and there were a mesmerising number of twinkling stars watching over you in that moment. The sky was as dark as Azriel’s shadows—

Azriel.

You were the jerk, not him. You sighed heavily, dipping your chin and tugging softly on the golden bond to see if you could fix this situation you’d made a mess of.

The comfort quite literally encased you as Azriel’s arms came to prop up against the balcony on each side of your body, propping his chin on the shoulder of your good arm.

His chest moulded against your back and your body instantly deflated, feeling so comforted by Azriel’s presence.

“I’m right here.” Azriel said, pulling the bond gently in gesture.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?” He said, kissing your neck carefully in hopes that it would continue to calm you.

“I’ve been so horrible.”

“I don’t think so.” You could feel Azriel shaking his head slightly against your shoulder. “Look at me, come here.”

Azriel stood back, twisting you around to face him with your back against the balcony.

Your arm was still held in your other and Azriel cupped your cheeks delicately - he knew how much you loved the feeling of his skin against yours. He could feel your love pour down the bond as his scarred fingers brushed over your cheeks.

“I feel useless.” You admitted, looking into his soft hazel eyes.

“Okay.” He prompted you to continue.

“Since I broke my arm I can’t do anything and I feel like I’m being a waste of space - especially if I’m taking you away from important things just to help me dress myself.”

“Are you done?”

“No. If I had just…”

Azriel’s thumb shifts from your cheek to press against your lips, stopping you from speaking.

“That was rhetorical.” He removed his thumb as he spoke, “You are not useless. You’re the damn most important thing in my life and I’ll not have you thinking that you’re anything less than that. Y/N, love, you helped stopped a group of bad people from bringing terror to our city. I’d say that’s nothing short of heroic. So enough with the uselessness thoughts. I enjoy waiting on you, making you breakfast in bed, helping you with paperwork. Every moment we’re together is enough for me, whether you’ve got a broken arm or not.”

You smiled properly for the first time in a while.

Whilst your mate tells you you’re perfect every chance he gets, it doesn’t hurt to hear him say it like that.

“What?” Azriel asked, watching the glint in your eyes sparkle as bright as those stars on the backdrop above you.

“Help me put on my top?”

“Or you could just help me take mine off…” He said suggestively.

You gave him a smirk and pushed him back into the room, watching him take off his own shirt and throw it on the floor. You didn’t care for where it landed. All you cared about was your beautiful mate in front of you and showing him how helpful you can actually be.

[hungermakesmonsters]

The Red Ribbon

Chapter Two

Plot Summary : By day you’re Billy Russo’s clumsy PA, but by night you’re a host at New York City’s most exclusive gentlemen's club. At The Red Ribbon everyone is anonymous and masks conceal the identities of patrons and hosts alike. But your two lives are about to collide and Billy Russo is about to see a whole new side of you without even realising it..

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour. All chapters will deal with smutty themes and include mentions/suggestions of sex work/work at a gentlemen's club (don't like, don't read). Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 6.1k

A/N : I was feeling well enough to finally get this chapter finished!

CHAPTER ONE

Master List

Chapter Two

The morning after, it felt like it had all been part of some weird, misremembered dream. The kind of dream that you’d wake from with a sense of longing, wishing that a man like that could be real. But it hadn’t been real. That was the point of The Red Ribbon; nothing that happened there was real.

Still, you found yourself thinking about those dark eyes, about your little game and the things he’d let slip about himself.

Not to mention the way he’d promised to find you again. 

You laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about how things might be if your life was just a little bit different, if you’d met him somewhere else.

But that was stupid. If you’d met him outside of The Red Ribbon, it would have been you and not Bunny that he’d met, and you were certain that he wouldn’t like who you were behind the mask.

Reluctantly, you pulled yourself from your warm bed and got ready for your day. As you stepped into the foyer of Anvil, you hoped that Mr Russo wouldn’t be there and that he’d been lying about turning up at 5am. All you wanted was a nice, quiet morning where you could get things done without him making you feel like crap.

But you weren’t that lucky. 

As you reached your desk, you could hear him on the phone - you only caught snatched words, but it sounded like he was trying to describe someone - but you thought nothing of it as you sat down and opened your laptop.

You were gifted ten wonderful minutes before his office door opened.

“I need everything we have on the Harris deal and I want my lunch at one,” he instructed.

“Yes, Mr Russo,” you said automatically, reaching for a pen. “What would you like for lunch?”

“Fettuccine Alfredo,” he said, “But get it from that place on 53rd, not the place on 38th.”

“Okay. And do you want your morning coffee yet?”

“Yes. In fact, get it as soon as you’ve pulled those files for me,” he continued before pausing a beat, “and don’t make a mess of them.”

“Okay.”

Then he was gone, leaving you to diligently set about your tasks for the day. 

Getting his coffee went without a hitch, and so did his lunch order, but the files he requested weren’t so easy. 

You managed to get almost all of them ready for him, but there was one - an important financial document, that was giving you problems.

You stared at the screen, trying every way you knew to open the files, only to be met by the same Corrupted File message. You called down to IT, desperately begging someone to come and have a look.

You’d met Ryan on your first day with Anvil, he’d help set up your laptop and give you access to everything you’d need to do the job and, since then, you’d struck up something of a work-friendship with him. 

He leaned over you, looking at your laptop, clicking the file and going through - whatever tech magic it was that he thought might salvage the file. Eventually, he managed to find the file and you quickly sent it to print.

“There you go, nothing to it,” he said, smiling down at you, still leaning ever-so close to you.

“You’re a lifesaver, Ryan. Honestly, you have no idea how much shit I’d be in if -”

Ryan pulled back at the sound of a door opening and you both turned to find Billy Russo standing there.

“I was about to ask why my lunch was late, but I guess I don’t have to,” he said in that cold tone he seemed to reserve just for you.

Your eyes widened as you looked at the clock - fuck-fuck-fuck, you were supposed to have picked up his lunch twenty minutes ago.

Ryan muttered something of an apology and hastily made his way towards the door, seeing himself out.

Quickly, you got to your feet, knocking your desk and causing your water bottle to topple, soaking the desk as it rolled off and onto the carpet. You cringed, watching as water dripped off the desk and started to create a puddle on the floor.

“Jesus Christ, can’t you do anything without fucking up?” Russo sighed.

“I’m sorry, Mr Russo - there was an issue with one of the files so -”

“So you had to call someone from IT to come and flirt with you?” He said harshly. “Look, I don’t care about excuses, I just want you to do your fucking job, okay? It’s not fucking hard.”

“Yes, Mr Russo.”

“Now, clean up this fucking mess, and go get me my lunch. If you don’t have it on my desk before my meeting at two, don’t bother coming in tomorrow.”

You managed to hold back tears until his office door was shut, but you didn’t have time to wallow and cry, no matter how much you felt like you needed to. You threw yourself onto hands and knees and quickly mopped up the spillage before racing out of the building to hail a taxi.

He barely even bothered to look at you when you returned with his lunch with only fifteen minutes to spare, and you were almost certain that he’d wanted you to fail. He wanted a reason to fire you.

Dread followed you for the rest of the day, filling your chest like a weight that dragged you down the depths of despair. You weren’t sure what you’d do if you lost your job at Anvil, especially since you were certain that Mr Russo wouldn’t exactly offer you a glowing reference.

On your way home, you checked your bank account and realised that, once again, you were reaching the end of your overdraft. If you lost your job you were going to run out of money and then...

You didn’t want to think about then...

The next day followed the same pattern; the barista at Starbucks managed to fuck up Mr Russo’s coffee order, so he took it out on you, sending you back to get him fresh cup, despite the freezing cold rain.

By the time you were at home preparing for your next shift at The Red Ribbon, you knew what you were going to have to do.

You got there early, before the club even opened and, instead of getting changed straight away, you headed to the manager’s office. Fortunately, unlike your boss at Anvil, Val who ran The Red Ribbon was a lot more... approachable.

You went in with a whole speech prepared, about how you wanted to change your limits, but it wasn’t really needed.

Negotiated touching, meaning that physical touch wasn’t entirely off the table but patrons shouldn’t expect it. They would need to ask or, if the situation called for it, you would need to ask. And, still, you got to set your own limits, you got to say no and have Rocky deal with anyone who pushed your boundaries.

“Are you sure?” Val asked, looking for any sign of doubt. You gave a nod, not trusting your voice to not betray you. “And just what brought on this change of heart?”

You couldn’t tell her about Anvil, about the day job you were certain you were going to lose; it was too high profile, too dangerous, she’d see it as a conflict of interest, and the last thing you needed was for her to fire you.

You managed a shrug. “I just figured it was time. My rent is going up next month and I’m sick of scraping to get by.”

By rights you shouldn’t have been scraping by at all, even with just the money that you made from working at The Red Ribbon. Val shot you a questioning look, but she didn’t say anything, didn’t ask how you managed to burn through so much money so quickly. Everyone at The Red Ribbon had their own stories, you supposed, and you were no different and, while Val always did what she could to make sure everyone was safe and content, ultimately, she was there to make money too.

“Okay, as long as you’re sure you’re happy doing this.”

“I am. Really. I’ll be fine.”

And, that was that.

As you stepped out onto the club floor that night, wearing the fox mask, you were greeted by Rocky. It quickly became clear he knew that you’d changed your limits and, as he fitted your security bracelet for the evening, he was very clear about what you should do if you felt uncomfortable even for a second. Then, he followed you to the fox room and told you he’d be right outside all night.

Everything was fine.

It was shocking just how fine everything was. While touching was allowed, all you got was the occasional pat on the shoulder, a gesture that you returned in kind, but even with just that, you saw an increase in your tips by the end of the night.

Over the next few days, you found yourself almost forgetting about Tall, Dark and Handsome, as you lost yourself in trying to keep your head above water at Anvil, and making more money at The Red Ribbon.

It was a week to the day that you stood in front of the board, checking your room assignment for the night when you noticed that you were in the cat room, one of the smaller rooms in The Red Ribbon, usually only used when there were one or two patrons that wanted private service. There was a note beside your name in brackets; by request. 

Some of the hosts had repeat customers, people who were so impressed by their skills that they requested the same host every time, but it was the first time that it had ever happened to you.

It was him.

It had to be him.

Your heart stuttered as you made your way to the cat room, saying a quick hello to Rocky as you got your bracelet fitted. He must have sensed your nervousness because he asked you if you were alright, if you needed him outside the door just in case. You shrugged him off, told him it was fine.

You’d never hosted in the cat room before, so you took a few minutes to familiarise yourself with it and to make sure everything was clean and comfortable.

Then the door opened and your heart threatened to stop completely.

“Bunny.”

His voice sent a shiver down your spine and brought a smile to your lips.

You tapped the cat mask on your face. “Not tonight.”

“You can put on any mask you want but you’ll still be my Bunny,” he said without a second of hesitation.

(His Bunny?)

Your breath caught as he stepped towards you, your head tilting back slightly the closer he got so that you could see his dark eyes.

“I told you I’d find you again,” he said.

“You did,” you said, trying desperately to calm your racing heart. “Though, I’m not sure if it counts as cheating to pay to find me.”

You smirked at him and watched as he considered the comment.

“I play to my strengths,” he said, shrugging.

“Money is a strength?”

“It is if you have it,” he answered.

He took another step, until there was no space left between you.

“Can I -” he started to ask but then seemed uncertain of something, “- am I allowed to touch you?”

His hand flexed as his side, his fingers seemed to itch and strain, wanting nothing more than to reach for you.

“Yes,” you answered softly, breathlessly.

Slowly, cautiously even, he reached for you, placing his hand on your cheek, just below the mask. Your eyes closed and you leaned into the warmth of his hand.

“What changed?” He asked, still sounding uncertain.

It took you a couple of seconds to figure out what he meant; when you’d last seen him a week ago, you’d been strictly hands off but, now, you were letting him touch you. You shrugged and shook your head a little.

“Doesn’t matter.”

Your hand rose to hold his, keeping it pressed against your cheek for a few more seconds before pulling it away and using it to lead him towards the sofa.

With a playful smile, you pushed him down onto the sofa and reached down to frame his face with your hands. As he looked up at you, it struck you just how tired he looked, and it brought about a strange want inside of you; the desire to take care of him.

“Let me get you a drink,” you said softly, lingering for a few more seconds before pulling away from him.

The bar was a lot smaller in this private room than the one you’d met him in, mostly meant for solo patrons and mostly those that wanted to do a lot more than just touch. Still, the bar was well stocked, and it took you no time at all to fill a glass with some ice and pour him a healthy measure of scotch.

When you returned to him, he took the glass from your hand and looked at you with some confusion as you sat beside him, your leg pulled up onto the sofa so you could face him better.

“Seriously, what changed?” He asked again.

“Maybe I was just optimistic that you’d find me again,” you answered with a shrug.

“So you’re... you’re okay?”

Of course, you knew where the thought had to have come from; he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you were willing to let masked strangers touch you for money, and that there had to be some terrible reason behind it.

“I’m fine,” you told him, reaching to cup his cheek, “so stop worrying about me and drink your drink.”

As if taking your words as a challenge, he lifted his glass and knocked it back in one go. Then, he seemed to settle a little, sitting back and fixing his dark eyes on you. You relieved him of the empty glass and placed it on the table, quickly returning your full attention to him.

“You look tired,” you said, the hand on his cheek moving, slipping your fingers into his hair.

“It’s been a long week.”

His eyes flickered shut and you heard him let out a soft sigh.

“Want to talk about it?”

His head shook, eyes still closed. “Just work stuff I’d rather not think about.”

“Then what do you want to think about?” You asked playfully, hoping to lighten his mood.

“You.”

“What about me?” You prompted, still running your fingers through his hair.

“You kissed me.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to,” you said, letting your fingers still for a moment.

Your breath caught as his eyes opened and he looked at you again. There was something so unreadable in his dark eyes and you couldn’t tell if it was a warning or a promise. He didn’t say anything so you continued.

“And, I think you wanted me to kiss you,” you said before pausing for a beat. “Didn’t you?”

That got a smile from him, that same little smirk that had been stuck in your mind since the last time you’d seen him.

“Wanted to do more than kiss you, Bunny.”

“Yeah, you did,” you said, barely holding back a smirk.

He laughed, daring to reach for you again, his hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips.

“What is it about you?” He asked softly. “How is it that I feel so at ease when I'm with you?”

Your heart stuttered in your chest and you felt heat creep across your cheeks. It took every ounce of common sense at your disposal to remind yourself that the moment wasn't real and that, if he was face to face with the real you, he probably wouldn't be interested.

“The mask,” you offered, “or the fact that there's no expectations beyond this moment. We can be whoever we want to be right now and no one can say that we can't.”

“And who do you want to be right now, Bunny?”

“I want to be your Bunny.”

He seemed almost taken aback by your answer, shifting in his seat, leaning closer to you.

“You want to be mine?”

“For the night.”

“Just for the night?”

Your expression softened and turned into something a little sadder, knowing that you couldn't indulge him even though some part of you desperately wanted to.

“Let's not ruin it by thinking about later,” you said, forcing a smile to your lips. “Let's just enjoy now. Do you want another drink?”

“No, I want another kiss,” he said with all the confidence of a man who usually got exactly what he wanted.

“Oh, you do, do you?” You asked playfully.

Your fingers stilled and, instead, lightly gripped his hair as you lost yourself in his gaze. You knew that you were playing a dangerous game and, while you might have wanted to tell yourself that it was just the job and that all of this was just because he had paid for your time,  there was more to it than that. It was silly but, some part of you wanted it to be real.

After the week you’d had, you wanted a moment where you didn’t feel useless, a moment where you felt wanted, even if the whole thing was just some ridiculous fantasy.

And, maybe, that was exactly what he wanted too, some escape from reality for an evening.

“I do,” he said, but made no attempt to close the distance between you.

He was giving you the choice. He wasn’t demanding or forcing it just because he was paying for your time.

With a smile on your lips, you leaned towards him and kissed him. It was nothing special, just a light peck on the lips, but it felt like so much more. It felt like a promise, an offer of something wonderful, but only for the next few hours.

His hand slipped to your neck, fingers resting above your racing pulse, and you could tell from the slight narrowing of his eyes he could tell that your heart was beating for him in that moment.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“Don’t thank me. I wanted to kiss you.”

Reluctantly, you let your fingers slip from his hair and you sat back beside him, creating a little bit of space between you. As much as you wanted to keep kissing him, you didn’t want to rush or put yourself in a situation that you’d regret.

“So, should I ask how much money you had to spend to make this happen?” You asked, smiling playfully.

“Oh, an obscene amount,” he said, grinning straight back at you.

“Obscene?”

“A truly disgusting amount.”

“You rich guys, you think you can throw your money around and get whatever you want, don’t you?” You asked with mock indignation. 

“I told you, Bunny; I always get what I want.”

You burst out laughing, amused by how serious he managed to sound. Though, in all honesty, you were trying not to actually think about how much he must have paid to make this happen. It was both unsettling and exhilarating to think that anyone might want to spend that sort of money just to be around you.

“You might always get what you want, but I’m starting to think you rarely get what you need,” you told him before getting to your feet.

You grabbed his glass from the table and headed back to the bar, this time bringing the scotch bottle back alone with a fresh glass of ice.

“You think this is what I need?” He asked as you refiled the glass and set the bottle down.

“No, I think what you need is a good night’s sleep,” you told him softly, sinking back onto the sofa beside me. “When was the last time you slept more than a couple of hours?” 

A subtle shift in things followed, a clumsy sort of tension, as if you’d shattered the illusion that you’d both been trying to hide in. For a moment he looked at you and you almost braced yourself to be told it was none of your fucking business. After all, who were you to say such things to him?

“It’s been a rough couple of months,” he said, giving an uncomfortable shrug and you noticed an awkward sort of tension in his shoulder.

Without thinking, you reached for him again and began to softly massage where his shoulder and neck met. He let out what could only be described as a relieved sigh and, for a few seconds, he let his eyes close.

“Are you always so tense, or is this just the effect that I have on you?” You teased.

“I’d be lying if I said you didn’t inspire a certain sort of tension... well, it’s more of a stiffness really...”

Your fingers squeezed a little tighter on his shoulder. “Oh, really? Sounds uncomfortable.”

“I’ll survive.”

You managed to hold your composure for all of two seconds before bursting into laughter. He joined you and you couldn’t help but wonder how often he got to laugh like that. Not often, if you had to hazard a guess.

“I guess I should be flattered,” you said once you managed to stop laughing.

“Is that your way of telling me that you haven’t given me a second thought since the other night?” He asked, almost pouting.

You bit your lip, torn between brutal honesty and the safer option.

“I might have briefly considered you, once or twice,” you confessed.

It was a dangerous game, and a silly one considering you knew nothing about him. In fact, the whole thing was a little ridiculous; both of you were acting like your first meeting had been more than a couple of hours of silly comments made across a bar. Both of you were acting like it had meant something.

But it was hard to deny that there had been some spark of connection and, as childish as you felt for indulging it, you wanted more.

You watched as he took another drink and, again, drained his glass.

“Tell me, when you were considering me, were you considering anything in particular?” He asked.

“Hmm,” you hummed, appearing lost in thought for a moment, “I can’t really remember.”

Before he could answer, you leaned forward, reaching for the bottle on the table when, suddenly, you felt his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap. Fingers cold from gripping his glass found your chin and he angled your face towards his so he could kiss you. 

This time it wasn’t just some chaste peck on the lips. His tongue pressed against the seam of your mouth and your lips parted for him, letting him deepen the kiss while your fingers fisted the fabric of his jacket. His lips tasted of scotch and desire, and it was easy to lose yourself in the moment.

When the kiss finally broke, you let out a contented hum, your eyes remaining shut for a few long seconds. 

“That’s what I was considering,” you said, lips pulling into a smirk again.

“Then maybe I should do it again.”

Before you could even think, his lips were on yours again. You fingers ended up back in his hair, gripping the dark strands and pulling him closer, keeping him against your lips as you kissed.

No one had ever kissed you the way he did; hungrily, needily, like he thought he might die if he didn’t have just one more taste of your lips.

And that was how the evening went from there; teasing playful comments interspersed with kisses that seemed to demand more and more.

You felt like your grip on your sanity was slowly loosening and it wouldn’t be long until it was gone entirely. Here was a man you didn’t know, a man whose face you’d never seen, but you were more than willing to spend the whole night on his lap making out with him as if he was your true love.

Every time you caught yourself thinking about it, you tried to rationalise it; he was a customer and this was what he wanted. 

You were both adults who understood the situation.

(Right?)

Eventually you moved from his lap to refill his glass, wanting to at least make a show of being a good host, even though he pouted and complained that you weren’t allowed to drink with him. And, when you moved back towards him, you were quickly pulled back onto his lap, this time straddling him - so he could see you better, he explained with a smirk that tied your insides in knots.

You ran your fingers through his hair again, smiling at him as he sipped his scotch and stared right back.

“Tell me something real, something about you that no one else knows,” he said, still staring into your eyes.

“I like to go to the Rockefeller Center to watch the ice skaters in the winter,” you confessed as if it was some great and terrible thing.

“You just go to watch? You don’t skate?”

You shook your head and bit back a laugh. “No. I’m not... uh, I’m not very good at ice skating. I'm kinda clumsy, I'd spend all my time falling over...”

“I don't believe that, I've seen you balancing trays or drinks and walking around just fine.”

It was strange that you'd never stopped to think about it like that; you couldn't remember ever dropping anything while you were working at The Red Ribbon, while you were hiding behind the mask, but you could barely get through a day at Anvil without tripping over your own feet or making a mess of something. Maybe that was another benefit of spending your nights as someone else.

“Can you ice skate?” You ask, deciding to redirect the conversation.

“A little, but it's been years since I last tried.”

“You should go some time, have some fun,” you suggested. “You look like you need more fun in your life.”

“I've got all the fun I need right here, Bunny,” he answered back without hesitation. 

“I mean real fun, not…”

It struck you that you didn't even have a word for what this was. A fantasy. A pipe dream. A waste of his time - if you wanted to be brutally honest about it.

“Not what?” He asked, picking up on your moment of hesitation.

“I just mean that when you get bored of this - of me - you should do something fun for yourself, something that makes you smile,” you said with a shrug.

His head shook and you could see the confusion on his face despite the mask.

“Who says I'm going to get bored of this?”

“Come on, handsome, we both know how this goes...” you answered as gently as you could. “You can't just spend the rest of your life coming here to see me.”

“Why? Is someone gonna stop me?”

He gave your thigh a gentle squeeze and, realistically, you knew that you should be at least a little bit concerned. He was a customer, this was your job. It wasn’t like you’d just met each other in some bar or coffee shop, and there was really only one sort of person who wanted to come to a place like The Red Ribbon to see the same host every night. But he didn’t seem like that, it didn’t act like some lonely weirdo who thought it was something more than it was.

“You’ll run out of money,” you joked.

“I can always make more.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Impossible to refuse,” he countered.

That had you laughing again, resting your hand above his heart, and shaking your head. You leaned forwards, your masked forehead against his, eyes closing tight.

“Carry on like this and I might actually start believing you,” you said softly.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he answered just as quietly.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours again and his arm was pulling you closer. The kiss seemed more desperate as he tried to prove what he was telling you was true, and the longer it went on, the more you believed him.

Your chest pressed against his and he groaned into the kiss. A moment later you felt him between your thighs, a hard ridge tenting his pants. His hand moved to your hip, pulling you against him as he pressed upwards, grinding himself against you. You let out a soft moan into the kiss that only got louder as he took your bottom lip between his teeth.

Fuck.

You knew that you should stop but you couldn’t, so you did the next best thing and tried to take control of the situation, making sure he was at your mercy and not the other way around. 

You pulled back a fraction and let your hands glide down the front of his shirt, all the way down to his waistband. Ignoring the trembling in your fingers, you quickly unbuckled his belt and made a strat on the fastenings of his pants. His breath caught as you tugged down the zipper and you hesitated, offering him a brief split-second to tell you to stop. When he didn’t, you slipped your hand into his pants and beneath his boxers to pull out his cock.

Your eyes widened as they travelled down his body to look at him, hard and growing harder still in your grasp. Thick, long and perfect, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. For you. He was hard for you.

“Fuck,” you muttered before you could think to stop yourself.

And he just laughed.

“See something you like, Bunny?”

Instead of answering you bit your lip and started to stroke him, slowly running your hand up and down his shaft. His mouth went slack and his head dropped back, and you paid attention to every little sound and flicker of pleasure on his face, learning exactly how he liked to be touched. Your grip tightened and your hand twisted ever so slightly, and the groan that left him sent a bolt of pleasure straight to your core.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to your neck, trailing wet kisses along the column of your throat until you almost forgot that you were the one giving him pleasure.

You didn’t snap back to reality until you felt his lips start to suck the skin just above where the red ribbon sat around your neck. Quickly, your free hand gripped his hair and gave a gentle tug.

“You can’t mark me,” you told him quietly but firmly.

The disappointed grunt he gave was almost enough to have you reconsidering, but he was quickly distracted by your hand.

His cock throbbed in your grasp, veins pulsing in time with his racing heart.

“You like that?” You muttered in a soft and sultry tone. “You like me stroking your cock?”

“Yes - fuck, Bunny - yes,” he groaned.

“Are you gonna come for me?” 

There was no telling where your new found confidence had come from, you’d never been the sort to engage in dirty talk before but something about the moment made you feel powerful. That you, of all people, could have some powerful, wealthy man trembling beneath your touch was an intoxicating feeling.

“Come for me, handsome. Show me how much you like me.”

You watched as his jaw set and his teeth gritted, like he was trying to hold back, like he wanted the moment to go on and on. It only made your hand move faster, fingers twisting around his shaft.

When he continued to deny you, your fingers in his hair tightened their hold again, pulling his head up and forcing him to look you in the eye.

And that was all it took.

His cock started to twitch and you felt warm cum running over your hand, but all the while you held his gaze, enjoying the desperate little sounds that were escaping him.

“Fuck, Bunny,” he groaned, breathless and boneless as he sank back against the sofa.

You gave him a triumphant smirk, your hand still gripping his cock as it started to soften. When you finally pulled it away, you lifted it to your mouth and made a show of slowly licking his cum from one of your fingers.

After a moment more, you slowly stood, ignoring your shaking legs as you headed towards the bar to grab a towel to clean up with. You quickly rinsed your hand before returning to him, kneeling between his legs and tenderly wiping him clean.

When you were about to pull away again, you were stopped by his hand on your chin, tilting your head up.

“Tell me it’s not just about the money,” he said.

Your heart almost stopped at the request.

As much as you’d been trying to tell yourself that you were playing the part of Bunny, it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true, not with him.

“It’s not about the money,” you answered, feeling your cheeks start to heat, “I wouldn’t’ve done that with you for money.”

It felt like the most honest thing you’d said to him so far. If he’d asked, if he’d thrown money at you like so many men had since you started hosting at The Red Ribbon, you would have told him no. 

No, you’d done it because you wanted to because, regardless of how strange and fucked up the circumstances were, you enjoyed his company, even if you were both hiding behind your masks.

But, it seemed that he wasn’t willing to hide behind masks anymore.

You recoiled the second you felt his fingers nudging the cat mask upwards, your fingers tugging it back into place.

“Don’t,” you said, begged. “Don’t ruin this.”

“I - I’m sorry. I just - fuck, Bunny - I just want to see you.”

He sat forward and his hand found your shoulder, offering a gentle and reassuring squeeze that really didn’t help matters.

“We can’t. That’s not how this works,” you told him, trying to keep the regret from spilling into your voice.

He nodded and started to tuck himself back into his pants. You took the opportunity to pull back and get to your feet.

Then he was standing, pulling his jacket back on. He reached for you and pulled your body to his, holding you tight as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

“I told you, Bunny. I always get what I want. And I want you.”

Despite his playful tone, there was a gravity to his words, something that caused your heart to stutter. When you looked up, he caught your lips in another eager kiss, and you let him. You kissed him back, once again losing yourself in the fantasy that this could be something more than what it was, that this could be real.

Then, he was gone, leaving you with the unspoken promise that this thing between you was far from over.

You didn’t sleep that night, laying in bed, tossing and turning, trying to get the thought of him from your mind. The only thing that helped was your vibrator, though once you’d made yourself come, you were right back at square one, trying to figure out what the fuck you were going to do.

Fortunately, when you turned up at Anvil the next morning, you were happy to find an email from Mr Russo telling you that he’d be out of office all day, meaning that you could work in peace.

On your way home, you found yourself heading towards the Rockefeller Center, stopping on the way to grab a coffee. You snuggled into your thick coat, occasionally glancing up at the sky, idly wondering if it was going to snow over Christmas.

When you reached the rink, you slowly made your way through the crowd, enjoying getting lost in the hustle and bustle until you saw a familiar face across the ice.

Billy Russo.

It didn’t click straight away - all you could think about was why would you boss be there - but when he reached up to brush back his hair and covered the top half of his face for a split second, the familiarity hit you like a brick.

It was him.

Mr Tall, Dark and Handsome was Billy Russo.

A/N : I hate being ill so much... 0/10 do not recommend (though it did give me time to finally start playing Black Ops 6 which I do recommend). Anyway hopefully I managed to get most of the dumb typos in this one. I know this story probably seems a bit faster than most of my fics but since this is only going to be three parts (or four if I get carried away) I didn't want to spend a lot of time on slow burn or b-plots. Plus it's a Christmas story and I want to finish it while it's still seasonal . Any way, I hope you're all having fun with this one because I certainly am.

Thanks for reading, hope you all have a great week (enjoy new years and stay safe!!)

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Tag List : @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @dreadfulxives18 @shwnirwin

@ladyblacky @spitecrow @oliviaewl @snowkestrel

[dearmrsawyer]

no year in review because it was all horrible really so instead i'm gonna take this chance to share a pile of incredible soc fics because they gave me somewhere else to be

these are all amazing stories and they made me feel a variety of things, and i've been compelled to return to all of them more than once. there are honestly more but this was getting very long. all fic authors thank you so much for putting such beautiful things out into the world ✨

To Everything There Is A Season by @basicbard, @ace-kaz-brekker

When times on the farm get tough, Jesper decides to make use of the old temple in the woods. Almost coincidentally, he meets a strange boy in the same woods shortly after. Are his prayers truly being answered? And why does the stranger seem to know so much?

Incredibly incredibly lovely little mythical fic that i am so enchanted by, this is a type of story that i'm always looking for and when someone who shares your interest happens to create it that is a gift from god, frankly

out of the forest (into a home) by stillthestars

Wylan is adrift in the city; Jesper and the rest of the Crows take him in. Daemon AU.

I have read this fic so many times, every couple of months at least, and the comments are turned off so i can never tell the author how much I love what they've created and i literally lie awake at night haunted by this (i do mean literally).

A Shot in the Dark by alex_kade

The Crows are on a treasure hunt, but when Wylan gets seriously injured the mission becomes one of saving their friend. OR yet another fic where Wylan is the bravest of brave little toasters.

The first in my love affair with fics where Wylan gets shot lol. "bravest of brave little toasters" lives in my head rent free always.

A Measure the Sum of its Parts by @kindness-ricochets

Wylan is trying to improve Kerch and Jesper is trying to be happy with his life. After an accident he heads for the Little Palace to learn how to control his abilities, and Wylan uncovers yet another dark family secret. Reunions in Ravka, political machinations, and the beauty of a strange little family.

The other fic i am biologically compelled to reread every couple of months. So so many fics by this author touch me, but this one is seriously everything to me.

Musée des Beaux Arts by @oneofthewednesdays

Six portraits of life and death in Ketterdam featuring the interwoven stories of Wylan Van Eck and Kaz Brekker.

One of the best fics i've ever read in any fandom, an utterly perfect character analysis fic about the Wylan/Kaz parallels

the handmaid by MaudeAlise

It’s a relatively straightforward job: Jesper will pretend to be the handmaid to the withdrawn and sheltered Van Eck heir, and convince him to elope with another mercher. That’s all Jesper has to do on his end, and then the Crows will walk away with 45 million kruge. It’s a simple task. Or it would be, if not for the fact that there seems to be more to Wylan Van Eck than meets the eye, and Jesper can’t help but be intrigued—and maybe a bit charmed, too.

Me reading this fic channeling whatever energy those instagram romantasy readers possess, like ok i get the feeling you guys are trying to express i really get it now. what on earth could be better than Jesper employed to be Wylan's handmaid. maybe nothing? SO compelling

under a merciless white light by @feelinglikecleopatra

Jesper decides to grow out his hair.

one of the most moving fics i've ever read ever, idek how to express it

Love is War (And War is Hell) by @silverbirching

Jesper and Wylan face their biggest challenge as a couple to date: dealing with a houseguest. (and that houseguest has done war crimes)

WIP. Nothing could've prepared me for how completely smitten I would be with the concept of Jesper and Wylan taking care of a wounded Ivan. Like i'm head over heels for this fic, its hilarious and sweet and emotional, it is just way too delightful, i can't handle it

Flight of the Butterfly / Symbiosis by @jazzythursday

travel time between Shu Han and Ravka. Jesper wanders onto the deck of the Hummingbird at night, restless and looking for… something, and finds Wylan instead. Conversations about sensitive topics ensue, and even Crows need sleep.

my fav missing scene fic inspired by SAB!!!! I was DESPERATE for more time on that ship and this fic gave me everything i wanted. the characterisation in this fic is flawless

If you hold me without hurting me, you'll be the first who ever did by gglow

Jesper and Wylan's first times at the Van Eck mansion, because we all need closure.

i can't get enough of fics set immediately after CK exploring how Wylan and Jesper settle into the mansion, this might be my favourite one i've read, its just so tender

somewhere full of bright colours and beautiful sounds by @jackwolfes

A Marya Hendriks Van Eck character study, aka Marya adjusts to life back in Ketterdam.

So many fics by this author, but i think about this fic all of the time. Its the fic i've always wanted and its everything i could've hoped for.

We're Gonna Need a Bigger Pentagram by @emmy-everafter

Nina Zenik is a vet med student who's almost done with her clinical rotations… but she's also secretly a very powerful witch. When someone brings a cursed, injured werewolf into the animal hospital, Nina decides to try to save his life, despite the bitter hatred that exists between wolves and witches. She enlists the help of her housemates, Jesper (who's also a witch), Inej (who's fae), and Kaz (who may or may not be a vampire). But breaking this curse requires more than Nina bargained for, and time is running out. Can the Crows save the werewolf before it's too late? More importantly, can they do it under the nose of their all-too-human housemate, Wylan? And--perhaps the most important question of all--will Nina finally get some decent waffles?

PURE joy, just made me so happy??? extremely delightful, fun, also super touching. Just so so so rich. One of my fav AUs, making all the crows a different creature and then putting them in a house together, A+.

To Live in Color by @sixofcrowdaydreams

As a child Wylan Van Eck was told by his father that domestic labor is all he will ever accomplish since he cannot read. He’s grown up cleaning his own family’s home. It’s not easy work, but it’s gotten easier over the years. If only he wasn’t so lonely. But now that his father has remarried and a has a new heir on the way, Wylan has the suspicion that he won’t be kept around much longer, even to clean. So for once in Wylan’s life, he decides to live for himself. Just this once. He’ll attend the King’s Masquerade Ball whether his father wants him there or not. However, his plan the night of the masquerade goes sideways when he meets a handsome sharpshooter and the criminal crew he runs with carrying out a heist at the palace. Wesper Cinderella AU

one of those perfect storm fics where not only is the writing wonderful, the characterisation on point, but the story itself is just SO engrossing. this was heartbreaking and uplifting

The In-Between by @sparrowmoth

Born into a world where a highly stigmatized and exploited series of genetic mutations can completely strip you of your humanity, Wylan has known since childhood that something was different about him. The same something different that is said to have killed his mother. Now, abandoned by his father, and his world shrunk to a cage, he must decide if to accept his fate or risk everything to change it.

WIP. The.... worldbuilding..... magnifique. this fic has me exclaiming GOD at least once a chapter lol. I haven't read many hybrid fics in my time but i fear i am now spoiled and no one can live up to this

Crows of the Saintly Days by Allthebestpeopleare

A very chaotic Inej, Nina and Jesper go to Ketterdam University. Things start to get interesting when Nina catches the eye of a cute jock in psych class, a very shy and sweet Wylan stumbles into their friend group, and a past associate of Inej's makes more and more appearances.

Prob the longest fic i've ever read, but genuinely would not sacrifice a single word. Weaves textfic and prose, and altho imo textfic can be kinda vapid/ooc what starts out as v light fun spirals into a wonderfully well developed story that really deeply moved me, and i loved the style!

Blood in the Water by hopeisbloody

Kaz Brekker runs the Barrel, his Wraith, and his Sharpshooter at either side for eternity. Jesper Fahey, ten years into his immortality, still a fledgling at heart, feels lost, alone, empty. Kaz and Inej have each other, and they have had each other for centuries. Even in their inner circle, he’s excluded from the millennia of memories they share. Their rule is disrupted. Bodies appear, drowned, drained of blood. Wylan is back, but what for?

This is one of the coolest Wylan characterisations i've ever read, such an incredibly engrossing story, I literally could not stop reading

We Keep This Dream Together by @magicandpizza

An entirely self-indulgent, vaguely chaotic, mostly sweet Six of Crows coffee shop/university AU, based (largely) on my experiences of the UK university system. Mostly focused on Wesper, but with sides of Helnik and Kanej too.

The most comfort fic ever, its not technically a Christmas fic (altho it does appear in a chapter) but feels like a Christmas fic to me because it makes me feel a sense of warmth and comfort that time of year embodies

a path to normal by seimaisin

Home is a difficult concept for Wylan and his mother. Jesper makes it easier.

so delicate and lovely, another fic set in the direct aftermath of CK focused on Marya returning home, which i can never get enough of <3333

In a Full Life, All Hearts Break a Little by alcove_words

Two years after the end of Crooked Kingdom, Jesper finally visits Novyi Zem and the father and life he left behind. But he isn't alone; Wylan comes, as well, determined to be supportive. Neither of them expects it to be an easy trip, but Novyi Zem holds more for both of them than they are prepared for.

Selling my soul for all fics set in Novyi Zem, but this one...... so SO beautiful. So conversation-based but full of story, so BIG hearted, such unbelievably beautiful writing.

Of Bronze and Blaze by amagicbeyond

This is a Wesper-centric reimagining of Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom, through the lens of the Shadow and Bones TV canon.

WIP. Oh my god????? Oh... my god. I don't even have words for this one, its just unbelievable

[lost-in-fandoms]

Winter Warmers Day 8: Holiday baking. Maxiel. About 1.1k words.

When Max asks Daniel if he wants to go with him to walk his mother's dogs, Daniel refuses. He is curled up in an armchair, a blanket in his lap, chatting with Victoria, and he's way too comfortable and warm to think about going out in the cold.

It's not snowing, not really, but the ground is frozen, and there's a humid chill in the air that digs its cold fingers into Daniel's bones as soon as he dares stepping foot outside.

Max just shrugs, not pushing for it, bends down to kiss Daniel and goes to put on his shoes. Daniel does his very best to ignore Victoria's teasing smile and his own pink cheeks.

It's not that Max is not affectionate, or that he doesn't love kissing Daniel at any given opportunity, it's just that usually they can't do it in public. Even if Max wasn't such a private person, they wouldn't want to deal with the shit storm it would cause to be papped kissing, and even when they are in friends' company they keep it very PG, brushing hands and bumping hips.

But it's clear that Max feels safe here, comfortable and happy in a way Daniel rarely sees him outside of their own home, so he apparently has no problem with PDA in front of his mother.

Daniel loves it for him, really, he would love Max to always be this open, but he also wants to disappear under the blanket when both women look at him with matching grins and he has to try really hard to pretend nothing has just happened.

He slightly regrets not accepting Max's invite when a few minutes later Sophie gets up, looking at the clock on the wall.

"I will go make cookies, for when the boys wake up," she says, her accent curling around the words. Then she points at Daniel, "you will come help me?"

And what can Daniel do, if not get up too?

He doesn't want to offend her, or to get on her bad side, if Sophie even has a bad side, especially not when it's the first time they spend Christmas together, so he follows her to the kitchen, dutifully washing his hands.

"I am not much of a baker," he warns her, accepting the light blue apron she hands him, hoping Max's walk will be long enough to allow him to take it off before he's back.

"Just sit, do what I say," Sophie says, shrugging in a very similar motion to her son, before starting to take out ingredients.

Daniel gets tasked with whisking the butter and sugar, as Sophie melts butter and chocolate on the stove. It's peaceful, despite it being an arm workout, and it reminds him a little of helping his own mom when he was little, sneaking bites of whatever she was cooking when she pretended to look the other way.

"He's a sweet boy."

Daniel jumps a little in surprise at Sophie's voice, turning his head to look at her, still fully focused on the chocolate.

"He is," he says carefully, not really knowing where she is going with it.

"Keep whisking," she reminds him, pointing him back to his task. "He loves you very much."

Daniel wonders if this is what Dutch shovel talk feels like. And also wonders why it wouldn't have come a couple years ago, when Max had told her about their relationship.

"I love him too," he replies, still confused but truthful.

Sophie leaves the chocolate to hand Daniel two eggs.

"Those go in," she tells him, grabbing a second bowl to start weighting the dry ingredients.

Daniel luckily doesn't get any shell in, gives himself a second to feel very proud about it, and then goes back to whisking.

"Do you want to marry him?"

Daniel chokes on his spit. He looks up sharply to find Sophie hiding a smile behind her hand, and to hear Victoria giggle in the other room, clearly listening in.

"I..we...yes? We haven't really talked about it," he stammers.

It's not lack of commitment. Daniel knows Max is it for him, he knows he wants to spend the rest of his life with him, but marriage? A wedding seems very complicated to plan, and very tiring to go through with, and he's pretty sure both their families would kill them if they eloped.

"You should," Sophie tells him, taking the now melted chocolate off the stove, drying the condensation at the bottom of the bowl with a tea towel.

"He is..." she pauses, methodically sifting the flour. "complicated. About marriage. He thinks he ruined mine."

Daniel nods, looking down at the light yellow contents of his own bowl.

"It is of course nonsense, Jos and I broke it ourselves, but he is very stubborn."

"He got that from you, mama," Victoria says, sliding into the kitchen and sitting down on one of the free chairs, apparently done with pretending she's not listening in.

Sophie smiles at her, unapologetic.

"He loved my wedding," Victoria adds, turning towards Daniel, "and he loves love. He's a romantic, deep down. But he worries."

"I don't need to marry him to never leave him," Daniel says, a bit defensive.

Both women smile at him, Victoria bright and knowing, like he just won something, and Sophie soft and sweet, reaching out to gently pat Daniel's hand.

"You should tell him that," Victoria tells him, making Daniel frown. He's pretty sure Max knows how much Daniel loves him, how much he wants their futures to be together.

"He worries," Sophie says, echoing Victoria's words. "He worries that marriage will ruin you, and that not being married will also do it."

"He's very stupid."

Daniel snorts at Victoria's words, and Sophie frowns at them both, shaking her head. Then she takes Daniel's bowl and starts slowly combining the ingredients.

"He is a very smart boy," she defends, folding the chocolate in, "but he can be very stupid."

Daniel laughs again, and this time Victoria joins him, leaning forward on the table, body folding with it just like Max's.

"I'll tell him," Daniel promises once he's serious again, feeling like he has just done something very right when Sophie just nods at him, offering him a ice cream scoop.

"Do the cookies, I will do the dishes," she tells him.

Victoria steals the bowl where the melted chocolate had been, earning herself another eye roll from Sophie, and Daniel dutifully starts scooping the batter into neat little rows on the baking sheet.

When Max comes home, cheeks red from the cold, Victoria is upstairs, waking the boys from their nap, the house smells like chocolate, and Daniel is waiting for him in the kitchen, ready to be teased about the apron he's still wearing.

[livinforthetea]

HOFAS Spoilers…..,

Discussing the Ember and Randall bonus chapter of HOFAS and the possibility of Nesta being executed for giving Bryce the mask, it really made me wonder: what exactly gives the fandom the impression that Rhysand would have any right whatsoever to execute Nesta for doing this? 

First, Nesta found the mask in the Bog of Oorid, which is a neutral territory, it is under no court's jurisdiction, no High Lord commands it. The mask does not belong to Rhysand, it does not belong to the Night Court, it belongs to Nesta. Nesta did not take Night Court property and gave it away, she took HER property and gave it away. 

Second, Nesta didn’t do anything that only affected the Night Court. She didn’t take the mask and give it to Beron so he could attack the Night Court, she gave the mask to Bryce so she could use it in another world and by Rhysand’s own words she made a decision that jeopardized THEIR ENTIRE WORLD, not just the Night Court. So again I ask…why then, does the fandom, and the Inner Circle and possibly even SJM seem to think that it is somehow up to ONLY Rhysand to make decisions about her punishment and decide whether or not she should be executed??? What makes Rhysand judge, jury and executioner for the whole of their world?????

You would think that if this does in fact impact the whole of Prythian, and that includes the mortal lands and the other continents, that at minimum ALL the other High Lords would have to have some say in how to deal with Nesta or even have an opinion on whether or not what Nesta did is punishable. Rhysand has ZERO right or jurisdiction to make decisions on behalf of all of Prythian, therefore it is not solely up to him if or how Nesta should be punished. 

The thing though is, in order for the other High Lords to have opinions that would require the Night Court to come clean to them all about the fact that they have been hunting for and found the items of the Dread Trove. They would have to disclose Nesta’s powers, and possibly that they have Made items that she crafted (that her sword can kill death gods?). They would have to disclose about the tunnels in the prison and the history they learned about Theia, and the Asteri and the fact that someone from another world portaled into the Night Court and that THEY let her escape.  So when he tells Nesta, “you may not answer to me but you will answer to every being here for what you did,” he forgets that the one who is going to owe everyone a lot of answers is HIM. Rhysand in his egotism and power hunger, thinking he owns Nesta simply because she lives in the Night Court and he therefore owns the Dread Trove, is actually 100% liable for whatever happens with these items. Maybe the rest of Prythian should get to decide whether or not he should be executed for all this?

(And I don't want to hear that Nesta is a Night Court citizen - which she does not consider herself to be - because the only reason Nesta cannot go anywhere else is for PLOT REASONS. Realistically Nesta could live in any other court and be safe and welcomed but the PLOT required her only options to be the Night Court or die in the mortal lands).

[miamooooo]

Lowk thinking about Josh being head over heels and following around alt!reader the second he meets her 😵‍💫

him being soooo into her the second they meet he just follows her around like a little dog

sub!josh with a dom!alt!reader fills my braaiinnnn

i can absolutelyyyyy see that. i can honestly see josh being a service sub too. like he isn't very direct or open about it, but you can just tell. he wants your approval soooo bad it starts to get so obvious.

(warnings): nsfw, handjob

the moment josh spots you, he's immediately interested in you. he's instantly into your vibe and look, he just thinks you're really hot. he literally makes it his goal to have at least one conversation with you. he would definitely have some terrible opener that he thought would be cool until he actually says it. "hey, so.. what's your deal?" it's terrible and awkward and he knows it, but he's desperate to get a conversation to happen. it would be something so out of the blue that it catches you off guard lol. after the conversation happens, omg he's hooked. he's literally obsessed with you. he finds every little excuse to be around you; following you around like a puppy, catching up to walk beside you and slinging an arm around your shoulder to start up a conversation about literally anything. he'll do whatever to be in your presence. josh tries to be casual about the whole thing, but it was impossible. it was simple gestures at first; he would start inviting you out to places, introducing you to his friends, and maybe sometimes even deciding to buy you your favorite cup of coffee in the mornings. yes, he's just that obsessed with you that he had to know what your favorite kind of coffee was. he doesn't think it's creepy.. or at least he tried to convince himself that it wasn't. at first, you're a little annoyed by his naturally witty, joking, and slightly overbearing nature, and the fact that he always conveniently had to be around you, attached to you like a leech. but as time goes by, it starts to click for you, and you start to find his little obsession endearing. he's so cute and you wanna get your hands on him. and it surprisingly didn't take long for that to happen! of course, josh had very dirty thoughts about you two every now again, but he never even thought he'd be in a predicament where he was the one getting pinned against some random bathroom wall, watching the person that he was completely obsessed with give him a handjob. but he absolutely wasn't complaining. especially when your hand felt so perfect wrapped around his cock. he would look so pretty as you gently fisted him, thumb swiping over the slit of his tip that made you quickly find out where he was the most sensitive. you do it again, teasingly, and it has him jerking his hips forward, a loud groan rumbling in his throat. oh you were gonna make him feel so good. he deserved it. he’s so vocal and obvious about how you're making him feel too. he would be leaking precum, his bottom lip caught in between his teeth, head thrown back against the wall as he grips tightly at your waist. "f-fuck yeah.. keep doing that," his voice is low and shaky, a huge contrast to how he presents himself to everyone else. it was almost like he was afraid of telling you what to do. but you listen to him anyway, because how could you not? you start to twist your wrist rhythmically, hand moving up, then back down. your thumb would occasionally rub over his tip, and you couldn't help yourself from softly laughing at the way he'd start desperately fucking himself into your hand. "gonna cum?" you teasingly asked, and it only makes josh huff out in frustration and thrust his hips harder. of course he was gonna cum! when he cums, he makes the biggest mess everywhere. he's spilling all over your hand and his own pants, and it's so much of it, like he's been saving up for this very moment. even after his orgasm, he's still so eager to please you! he would probably beg to be inside of you next.

[genderqueerdykes]

I noticed this detail in your most recent post, and I know it isn't the point but I deal with the same problem so I think I should mention it

for a decent bit of my teen years, I had always imagined myself in a car behind the wheel on my way to some job or something. but the more I think about these things as I age and as I get to learn more about my capabilities and the varying extent thereof, I realized maybe a few years ago that driving wouldn't be a good idea for me. and I've been working on getting a job for the last year and a half (my very first one, if we're being honest) and I have made very little progress because I don't have the skill sets or traits required for the vast majority of jobs on the market right now. but as for driving, I just can't imagine doing that well because I deal with a good number of disorders too (adhd, asd, severe anxiety, dp/dr that was diagnosed but not documented, and a few more) and I fear that may hinder my ability to function on the road the way most others do, not to mention im on a few medications that happen to have warning labels against handling heavy machinery like cars. so i guess im also scared to drive, and not a lot of people in my life understand that either. I just felt this was worth sharing since I relate to it and I really hope this wasn't too intrusive

oh that's not intrusive at all!

i do not drive for similar reasons. i hallucinate and dissociate far too much. i just see and hear things that are not happening, and sometimes i just black out for the entirety of a trip somewhere (or more). i have a really short attention span as well, so i really do understand those concerns.

my personal stance on the matter is that if you feel like you'd be a dangerous driver, it's only saving your & other people's lives to avoid it if possible. rideshare apps are becoming more common, and there's never any shame in using public transportation. there's nothing wrong with wanting to stay safe like that. people are too harsh on those who don't know and/or don't want to learn how to drive. there's so many bad drivers on the road. accidents would be a lot fewer and farther between if we just let people who aren't good at driving stay off the road and not guilt them to get better at driving, or whatever

anyways, take care of yourself, alright? you don't need diagnoses for any of this, it's okay. you're allowed to take this seriously even if you don't have a diagnosis