#so i just wish that they’d be given the opportunity to do so at the met gala when invited

[bandsanitizer]

kim hongjoong in balmain probably the only idol I want to see at the met gala now

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Objects in Motion

Part 2

Alpha!Billy Russo x Omega! Reader

Part 1 here

You’re deep in sleep when a loud bang wakes you.

Bolting up with a gasp, your heart pounds in your chest for a few minutes. You’re not sure what the noise was- a door slamming shut, or maybe something falling in the apartment above you, but the echo of it in your head keeps you awake for a while, hating that your anxiety doesn’t let you sleep.

.

You go to another dry cleaners, you do your best to avoid going out. You go to work, and back home for a couple of weeks, worried that someone will find you and scold you for what you’ve done.

You think about being scolded by him, you doubt you’d be able to last a moment in his presence.

After you’d ensured the safe delivery of the coat, did you finally research the owner.

William Russo, his stoic, borderline angry expression staring back at you through your computer screen had only made you aroused all over again.

This, this was the Alpha with a scent so magnetic, you couldn’t resist it.

He was rich, a CEO, and you could only look around your threadbare apartment and sigh sadly, there was nothing you could offer him that would interest him.

So, you try to move on with your life, work hard so you can afford to buy alleviators for your next heat, and stay away from alphas that would no doubt hurt you.

The art museum was a big comfort. On a Friday evening, when it was at its emptiest, you’d go in, and stare at all the paintings. You’d study the brushstrokes till your eyes burned, items like Starry Night, and Street Light were beautiful works that always made you dare to dream of a life better than the one you were in. Today however, The Lovers was the one that kept you most occupied.

Two people, with white cloths over their heads as they lean into each other, kissing.  Hidden from each other’s sight, you wonder if the painting only holds its romance because of the seemingly anonymity of the subjects. If the mystery was removed, would there be more love, or less?

It was kind of how you felt right now, pained, searching for something that you weren’t familiar with. An alpha, to call your own.

None of the alphas you’d met had ever been right for you. There was an entitlement written into them, the belief that your station was lesser, so you were supposed to submit. Alphas constantly lived with that air of superiority surrounding them, and they were easily upset when you did not give them what they wanted. 

The alphas you dated were wrong to think that submission was something freely given, in reality, it had to be earned.

You wondered if the alpha on your mind would ask nicely.

Probably not. It was a good thing he existed only in your fantasies.

.

Your omega privilege means you get to stay a little after closing. You smile gratefully in the security guard’s direction when he comes to escort you out.

“We’ve got a new piece coming in tomorrow. You won’t be able to stay late anymore, but I’m sure you’ll like it.”

You smile in delight.

“Do you know which one it is?” You ask.

“Not really, not much of an art guy, but it’s a big deal, really expensive.”

You nod, enthusiastically.

“Well, I can’t wait.” You reply, wishing the beta a good night when you finally reach the exit, pulling your jacket tighter around you to protect from the cold.

.

Not for the first time in his life, he feels the loneliness. 

It’s only that he’s never felt it quite like this. Usually, people just didn’t want him, his mother gave him up when he was a baby, and he’d never really understood why. Through his life, people had assumed he’d present as a beta, because he’d been a scrawny kid. Things had only gotten worse when at ten, his alpha denomination had shown through.

Then, everyone had wanted a piece of him, an opportunity to say that they’d fought an alpha and won, uncaring of his age and size- the world had forced him to become ruthless very quickly.

He’d let the world’s rejection shape him, and he’d only realised that when he’d met Frank.

Frank had made him understand, that alphas were not supposed to be cruel, but rather the very definition of safety and security.

He'd tried his best to ignore the hollow feeling inside of him, and that had worked.

At least, it had, up until he'd smelled that stupid coat.

Now, it was like someone had taken a piece of him and ran off with it, ripped a carefully placed bandage off and left him with an open wound. He could feel the absence, like if it was a whole other person in the room.

He wanted his omega.

It was all he’d thought about now, as he pressed the coat to his nose every night, struggling to catch her fading scent, he wondered if he’d ever be able to sleep again when the scent fully faded.

He keeps going, maybe he even pushes himself harder, his work distracts him, helps him keep a clear head.

He’d even accepted a job to secure artwork for the museum, even though his specialty was protecting people, and Frank was usually the man that handled asset protection.

He’s following closely behind The Scream when he stops dead in his tracks.

One of his employees tosses him a confused glance, but he ignores it as he takes a deep inhale. 

He’d know that vanilla scent anywhere, the smell of apples mixed in and his heart gives an eager kick.

Surely not-

He turns his head, sees a painting of two lovers hiding from each other, kissing through a shroud of white cloth. He studies it for a moment, his mind racing at speeds he can’t fathom.

When the painting gets too far ahead, he turns and resumes his stride, thinking about all the ways he can do his best to get what he wants.

.

He gets permission to access the security footage of the museum.

Who’s really going to deny an alpha anyway?

Billy finds her, or at least the back of her head, and he can’t help the excitement that after weeks of searching, he’s managed to get lucky and obtain a lead on her.

He talks to the security guard that walked her out. With a sleepy voice over the phone, the man tells him that she’s a frequent visitor to the museum on Fridays, and she doesn’t cause any trouble so he lets her stay a little after closing.

“She just likes looking at the pieces, and I can’t be mean to an omega as shy as her.”

Billy’s mouth twitches upward, amused at the biological imprint inside everyone to protect omegas. The men who’d done her a favour to deliver his coat had said near the same thing.

It had made him fond, of a sweet girl, that would no doubt be spooked if he showed up at her home unannounced. Even if he now had the means to trace her back to her home, he couldn’t take the risk. He had to play this right.

.

When you hear Edvard Munch’s The Scream is on display, you vibrate with excitement. Instead of going the opening week, you wait till your usual time the next Friday, when hopefully there’s much less of a crowd to contend with.

It’s not completely empty, but you’re okay with the sparse crowd, you smile, tiptoeing to peek over shoulders so that you can catch a sight of it before you’re at the front.

You love everything about it, the colour and the expressionism of it, you wonder how much the paint has faded over time. The little paragraph beside the painting describes an infinite scream, a universal anxiety, and you think you can almost feel that as you stare at it, the idea that you’re being watched sending a nervous thrill down your spine.

When you move away from the painting however, the feeling lingers. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes to shake the feeling, you don’t understand how a painting can have such an effect.

To clear your head, you find an impressionist nearby, Monet’s reflections of clouds on a lily pond, and you stand in front of it, letting out a long sigh.

When the distinct smell of bergamot hits you, you stiffen. 

Your heart squeezes into your throat, and you try to look around as casually as possible, betas turn to look at you as they scent your distress in the air. 

Did you feel like you were being watched- because you were actually being watched?

You take in another breath, and this time, you’re sure.

Cracked pepper, citrus- 

The alpha was here.

Someone says your name behind you, and you turn in fright.

There he was. Dressed down in casual clothes, trying to blend in with the people around him- as if an alpha as handsome as him ever could.

Billy Russo was devastatingly gorgeous up close.

But you were fucked.

Your eyes widen and you take a step back, knowing that this was definitely about stealing his coat. He would no doubt try to make you pay for cleaning- or worse yet- a new coat entirely.

Your body flushes with fear as you back away from him on shaky legs.

His head tilts as he watches you go, dark eyes caught on your retreating form.

“Don’t run, omega.” He says easily, taking a single stride as you back away, his presence looming over you, igniting something in your stomach like a match being struck.

You make a small sound in the back of your throat, and you do exactly what he says not to.

You run.

Well, not exactly.

More like a quick walk, looking back to see if he follows, you beeline for the bathroom, hoping to hide in there for a moment.

You groan, splashing your face with water, internally grumbling over what you've gotten yourself into.

You should have never grabbed that stupid coat with your stupid omega senses always searching for the right alpha. What did you think? That just because he’d had an amazing scent meant that he wanted to take care of you? 

No, he was probably going to scold you, and force you to pay him back, and you couldn’t afford three thousand for a coat. 

Your throat tightens in panic, your body flushes with fear.

You couldn’t think too much on what he would do if he caught you, all you needed to focus on right now, was getting away.

So you take a deep breath and you shed your jacket, tucking it under your arm and stepping out of the bathroom behind someone. 

There’s not a lot of people, but luckily you know the museum, and you take the most secluded paths that you doubt anyone unfamiliar to the museum would know of.

You sigh happily when you see the exit door in sight, making large meaningful steps, looking back every now and then. Behind you is empty, and you think that you might have actually lost him.

It sends a pang of sadness through you, but you shake your head to shove it away.

You look back once more when you push your way through the exit doors, making sure the path behind you is clear of any six foot alphas.

And you walk right into him.

You’re not sure it is at first, but his size and smell give it away. Your face is pressed securely to his chest, and his hands come up to grip your upper arms firmly.

You raise your head in panic, trying to wrench back from him.

“Relax omega, you’re not in any trouble, I promise.” He says, something in his voice that makes his words sound believable.

You whine in distress.

“Please, I’m sorry, I can’t afford to replace your coat. I shouldn’t have taken it.” You plead, voice wobbling with the struggle to speak under duress.

“Shh, little one, I’m not here to ask you for money.”

His words don’t register in your head, and you begin to cry. Thick swells of tears fall from the corners of your eyes.

“I can’t pay.” You struggle out in a tiny voice.

He grunts, his hands move to cup your face, your tears spilling onto his fingers instead.

“Omega.” He says meaningfully.

The command in his tone makes you look up at him, brain going quiet, the power of his voice catching your attention easily. His stern expression softens.

“I’m not here to make you pay for anything, and I promise you’re not in any trouble.”

You make a little sniffle.

“ ‘M not?” You ask weakly.

The corner of his mouth curves up.

“No, I just want to talk.” 

“Talk?” You repeat dumbly.

His thumbs trace over your cheekbones gently, a soft tingling sensation swims in your head and settles at the top of your spine. Your eyelids flutter as you watch him nod.

“I’ve been searching for you for weeks, omega, since you left me that coat drenched in your sweet scent, I haven’t had a clear thought since.”

You gulp.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“Don’t be sorry just-” He squeezes his eyes shut as if he’s looking for the right words, “Have dinner with me. Tonight. My treat.”

You take a deep breath, eyes widening.

“I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.”

He lets out a swift breath, you worry that you might be aggravating him.

“What aren’t you sure about? Your safety?”

You feel your heart pick up its pace beneath your ribcage, tormenting your body with the feeling of panic.

You reach up, cupping his hands in yours and peeling them off your cheeks. 

“Alphas are… notorious for getting angry when they don’t get their way.” You reply anxiously, your hands uncurling from his, filled with so much trepidation. 

“I understand, but give me a chance to prove myself. There’s something between us, omega, you just have to open yourself up to it.”

You blink, stomach flipping as you debate your options.

You eye him warily, too afraid to say no, too scared of how he would react.

You take another step back, and his face looks pained, his body tense.

You shake your head, scared, taking another cautious step away.

“Please don’t run.” He says softly, it makes you pause.

Maybe… maybe a chance wouldn’t be so bad.

“What about lunch tomorrow?” Somewhere bright and public that would make you feel safer about being around him.

He lets out a slow breath.

“Lunch is great. Where?”

You think for a moment.

“We can meet right here, there’s a place not far from here with nice sandwiches.”

He inclines his head.

“Sandwiches are great.”

You give him a soft smile of amusement, still a little unsure.

“Okay, we’ll meet here tomorrow? Around 12?”

He nods, digging into his pockets for a moment before pulling a card out and extending it to you.

You blink, a little cautious, reaching for the obsidian coloured paper in his hand. You study the raised silver lettering, his name, his job title, his company.

“The one on the left is my cell. Let me know when you get here. If you want, we can look around the museum too.”

Something flips in your chest at the thought. You wonder what he thought of The Scream.

“No,” You mumble, shaking your head, “The museum is packed on a Saturday. I hate crowds.”

He nods in understanding.

“No crowds then, maybe we can take a walk in the park.”

“Maybe.” You reply, still a little unsure of this entire scenario.

“You're safe, Omega, I promise.”

You offer a sad smile.

“That's what they all say.”

.

He was going to kill every Alpha that had ever made you feel unsafe.

He sits in his car, after you'd denied his offer to at least take you home. 

Your scent fades where he'd touched you, his body demanding more. Apples, so fucking sweet his mouth waters. 

Halfway to his home, a text comes in from you, shyly informing him that you'd made it home.

He'd asked, wanted to make sure that you were safe as the late evening had turned to night.

He keeps it simple, types out a small message to put you at ease.

Thank you. Sweet dreams

.

.

.

A/N: Pretty sure y'all are gonna hate this. Sorry.

Also, just asking for more without leaving any kind of feedback makes me feel kinda used 😅

[aritamargarita]

SOLITUDE || 001

hello and welcome to the debut of solitude. to all my current readers, you already know what’s up, but to new and curious readers, this installment is based off of climbing the food chain of wwe, taking place in mostly the modern era, so there are superstars spanning from 2013 the earliest to 2022..

just let me cook on the timeline a little bit okay, you'll like it LOL. there’s a lot of Twitter segments in this so i hope it’s not annoying, they’re going to die down for the most part later i promise

without further ado, please enjoy!

TODAY IS THE first day of your call up. The support you’ve gotten from your friends from the training center was wonderful, but you’re still feeling antsy and incredibly nervous. Hopefully, your first day on the brand goes well..

Shawn Michaels was the one to break the news that you were getting called up. You could remember it so clearly because you completely ambushed him with an excited hug once he dropped the bomb on you.

He had patted your back and told you to lighten your grip a little bit, but not without a grin on his face.

If it’s one thing you deserve, it is the chance to expand your career. You always came early, and you were always prepared to learn.

You weren’t sure how to feel when he told you that you’d be heading to the main roster.

You only started as a superstar on the indie circuit and are only used to being on much smaller channels and local shows. You couldn’t even imagine being on WWE, which was broadcast on national television!

He had seen the look on your face and quickly tried to do damage control.

“We’re soft-launching you, or however you kids say it these days,” He told you. You think he grumbled something about how social media was confusing, but you brushed him off. “As an interviewer, I mean.”

“Huh..” You give a shrug. “As long as I can wrestle sometime.”

He had assured you that you will, sooner than you think, but they just wanted to focus on your speaking. Once they (and you), were more confident, they’d allow you to be in much more opportunities.

Such is life, you guess. Get through these obstacles for a bigger reward. You gave your gratitude to Shawn as you had a lot to look forward to.

If you’re not mistaken, WWE had already posted a teaser on their twitter. For some reason, you would find yourself constantly checking the tweet.

@WWE ✓

We hear someone is entering the scene… 👀

1.2K reposts 120 quotes 14K likes

—is what it said. The flurry of tweets under it were mixed. Lots of people wanted to know what the deal was, though some were already speculating it was an old star coming back.

However, the few fans that knew of your work had their guesses. Some of the pictures you posted on Instagram were cryptic hints, but you knew how the internet was. Crazy detective work..

But anyhow, people around the training center know that you’re pretty introverted. You only came to get some work done and go home. It was hard for others to get to know you at first.

They like to call you shy, but you’ve started to hate that word the more it’s used. It holds you back too much. You won’t make it far if you’re stuck with that description for your entire life.

Fortunately, they know what you lack in words is made up for in the ring. There’s no question that you’re good, you just tend to get nervous when speaking to the public.

At heart, you knew they wanted to help you out, and they wanted you to become the best you can be! If you start practicing, you’re sure to be a star!

As motivating as it sounds, it’s still stressful. Going out of your comfort zone was nothing new. It’s a given if you want to wrestle properly, but it still makes you uneasy.

You know you’ve gotta put your best foot forward and do this despite it. This was your only chance, and you absolutely can’t mess this up.

Most of the people still training had given you their well wishes. It’s heavily appreciated; after all, you won’t see them anymore unless they’re called up there themselves.

You think you’ll miss Carmella the most. She was your training buddy, and you think she was the most excited about you getting called up. You hope that she’ll be next soon enough….

As of right now, you look tired. You damn sure feel tired.

It causes you to lie down on the floor of the locker room. It probably wasn’t the best idea, but fuck it. You’ve already made a bad decision by staying up all night out of excitement. It’s starting to come back to you.

Of course, you came to the arena a little too early. (which was an inside joke between coaches, you’re too punctual for your own good..)

You were sure most of your coworkers hadn’t arrived yet, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to see them. It’s not that you don’t want to, you’re just nervous to meet them.

Especially since you’ll probably be half asleep and may forget their names.

Much to your misfortune, a woman comes in, sunglasses on and suitcase handle clenched in hand.

She only lowers them with a finger once you’re in view. “Oooh,” She starts, then clicks her tongue. It’s apparent that she’s mocking you already. “..You look like trash.”

“Thanks,” You say with a sigh. “It’s so appreciated.”

This is not a good start. You make the move to get up off the comfortable ground and the woman puts a hand on her hip.

She’s not very amused, moving a free hand to flip her blue hair. “Did they get me a personal makeup artist? Or…are you just everyone’s stylist? Never seen you here before.”

“I’m new. An interviewer.” You say. Giving yourself that title feels much weirder than saying you were a wrestler. “Pray tell, who am I talking to?”

She’s a little taken aback by the cynical tone in your voice but takes her sunglasses off. This woman doesn’t think she’s met her match yet.

“Of course you don’t recognize a celebrity when you’re in front of one. Let me refresh your memory a bit. How does this sound? The boss, the blueprint, the standard!” She pauses for a bit for dramatic effect. “…Sasha Banks. And I better not have to repeat myself. Who exactly are you?”

“You have a pretty name.” You start off with. Honestly, you didn’t want to make an enemy out of her as much as she wanted to make one out of you. You hope she could see that. “I’m [Name], and you’re right. I am new. Maybe we can get to know each other a bit more.”

It actually seems to work because she falters for a second. “…What?”

You hold out your hand to her and she looks at it for a moment before shaking it with a scowl. Before you realize it, she’s already taking her hand back.

“I’m assuming you’re wrestling? Do you have a match?” You quickly ask, not giving her a second to recover. “I’d like to interview you after if you do.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Sasha drops her suitcase. She’s unsure if she could stand your bright personality for a second longer. You’re going to be a problem in the future. “Sorry, not sorry, but you’re a nobody. What’s the point?”

“It was worth a try. But if that’s what you want I won’t force you.” Sasha rolls her eyes at your response. You’re way too nice. “At least tell me, do you think it’s fun here?”

“Fun?” She repeats. “Tch, I know you didn’t just ask if it was fun. Get real. There’s nothing fun about being here. There’s only one thing that matters, and it’s the Divas Championship. Got it?”

“Got it.” You nod. Divas Championship…duly noted. You don’t think you’ll be going for it anytime soon. “Who’s got it?” You’ll have to ask if the standard Women’s Championship was still in circulation as well.

“AJ Lee.” She answers. It’s the least snarky answer she’s given you so far, but she reverts back to it. “I swear, I’m gonna drag her ass across the mat for that title. She makes me sick with her skipping around.”

You voice your thoughts. “She skips?” That’s one way to get to the ring. You’re curious now. “I wonder if I can interview her…she must have a lot to say about her reign so far.”

“What?” Sasha’s immediately offended. “Um, no. Who says you’re interviewing her first? You’re obviously going to interview me first.”

It’s contradictory to what she’s said before, but because of it, there’s a smile growing on your face. She notices and jabs her index finger toward you. “You can wipe that smile off your face, rookie.”

“So be it. I will see you afterwards.” You agree to interview her, doing your best to fight the smile off.

Sasha huffs and leaves the room for now. Your eyes follow her, and once she’s gone, you shrug to yourself. Wow.

Well, that’s one way to get an interviewee.

Almost seconds after her departure, your phone vibrates and you see it’s a notification from Twitter. After that, the tweets start to flow in.

What now?

@SashaBanksWWE ✓

I ALWAYS come first. Don’t forget that, rookie. @Officially[Name].

4.1K reposts 250 quotes 45K likes

@No1DivazStan: Wait…?

↳ @Sashabanksfan109: Literally like who is that??? What is she talking about?

Oh boy. Now people actually are getting the idea. She even went as far as tagging you. You’re already starting to have people follow you.

Including Sasha, which was a plus!

You’re confident about things for a moment until the thought of having to talk to her live circles back. Shit, you might start to freak out a little.

You hope Sasha wouldn’t be too harsh on you, even if it were wishful thinking. Sasha’s gonna come in hot, especially if she loses. You have no choice but to adjust.

A few more moments of silence pass, and suddenly the floor is calling you again.

You immediately lay back down. How long until the show? You take your phone out of your pocket and check the time. 6:45. The show starts at around 7. Maybe 8 if there are any delays.

Would it be wrong if you took a quick nap? It’ll only be 15 minutes, but it might just be enough to keep you going for the rest of the night.

You’re already closing your eyes. You know you’re going to be unable to hit any major stages of sleep, but even just laying like this is nice.

Until the door opens. You’re shooting up from your spot, almost falling over in the process.

“I WASN’T SLEEPING.” You clarify, doing your best to stand up. The woman, who’s not Sasha this time, looks at you in confusion.

She points a finger at you. “Ya’ sure about that? From the looks of it, it seemed like you were knocked out for a second.” Her accent is the first thing that catches your attention as she starts to motion towards you.

“No, no, not at all.” You try to defend. “Can’t a woman stretch on the floor in peace?”

“Seriously, you call that stretching?” Before she can make any more sarcastic comments toward you, she turns to look at you. “I’ve never seen you around before. Got a name?”

She is trying her best to identify you to no avail. You hop up to your feet, then hold your hand out to her. “[Name]. I’m just an interviewer right now, yeah. I’m new. Who are you?”

“Becky. Becky Lynch.” She introduces, taking your hand to shake it firmly. You swear you’ve seen her before, too. Probably on Twitter. Guess Becky isn't the only one with deja vu.

You pray you wouldn’t forget her or Sasha’s name for that matter. You can’t fight the urge to yawn.

“Someone’s tired. You should go get some water before you pass out. Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

This is a nice change of pace from Sasha. Despite you trying to kill her with kindness, she’s just all kinds of intimidating, while this woman is…okay.

Water may do the trick. It might just be cold enough to wake you up. “Good idea. Anywhere I can get some?”

“Should be a cooler down the hall to your right.” She informs. “See, I’d offer to get it for you, but I’ve got a match to get ready for.”

“Well, thanks anyway.” But before you leave, Before you leave, you turn over to her. “This may be an assumption, but are you going against Sasha Banks?” You ask. You could be wrong, but it’s worth a shot to see.

She nods at you. “Smart girl. How’d you know?”

“I talked to her a bit earlier. She wouldn’t exactly tell me she was going in a match, but I guess it was safe to assume it was you.” You say. “If you’d like to be interviewed, I’ll be waiting backstage.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Becky says. She’s more concerned about you getting your water. “Go, I might be here when you get back. Don’t pass out.”

You make a noise to let her know you heard her. Did you make a new friend? You think so.

You’re still a bit disoriented from the lack of sleep. You only made it a few steps down the hall before forgetting the direction she told you to go. Great.

This hallway seemed horribly long. The more you walked, the more you felt like it extended somehow. You need a nap, but you don’t think you’re going to get it until retiring back to your hotel room.

A group of men dressed in what seems to be tactical clothes are sitting around nearby, and you find yourself approaching them in a sudden spur of confidence. It’s probably because you’re tired.

“Excuse me,” you call. All three of them look at you with curious looks, and you feel like you could just up and die right there.

Doesn’t exactly help that they’re all kind of attractive, either.

“Where can I get some water? It feels like I’m dying here.” You ask, using your hand to rub the side of your face.

To them, you looked like you had just completed a damn marathon run. One of them with short brown hair whispers something to another with half-blonde, half-black hair, and you look between them curiously.

You don’t have time for whispers. You want water. It makes you think about purposely passing out in front of them. Rude and manipulative, sure, but you’re not here to gossip!

The other one speaks up to you instead. He’s also got long hair, but you think the most noticeable thing was his sleeve tattoo. You may have been staring too long because he snapped his fingers to get your attention.

At least he wasn’t glaring at you. There was a handsome smile on his face. “You there? Don’t tell me we’ve lost you already. You just got here.”

“Sorry. I’m really tired.” You admit. “Really, REALLY tired. Water would be nice.”

“To your left,” He says. “Should be one over there.”

The exasperation in your voice is ever present when you say: “Thank you!”. You’re dying here. You’ll have to come back and thank your only savior after replenishing yourself. Turning away, you head in the direction he told you.

You don’t hear the snickering behind you as you leave. Too busy thinking about hydration at this point.

Going further down, you see that there still is no water cooler. You’re only met with a dead end, and though there are doors, the signs only tell you that they’re just control rooms.

You’re confused. Why would he send you that way? You turn around and head back the way you came as it must’ve been an honest mistake.

You see them still sitting there with smiles. “Hey, excuse me,” you call, waving your hand. “There’s no water over there. Are you sure it’s that way?”

“We know.” The man who gave you instruction earlier had said. “We just wanted to mess with you a bit. Go that way.” First day on the job and people are already trying to rib you? Goddamn it.

On the bright side, it seemed to be lighthearted. Or so you hope.

This time, you hope, he points the correct way. The only thing you can do is let out a sigh and move forward. You don’t even stay to listen to anything else he says.

"Don't take it to heart!" One of them yells behind you.

You scoff to yourself. This time, they redeemed themselves because you found that lovely water cooler. You immediately pick up the pace and reach out to snatch a cup.

Finally, cold water. You're sure you'll wake up this time. You're almost half tempted to pour some on your face, but you aren't THAT unhinged. Besides, you don’t want to waste it.

The moment you lift your cup and and take a refreshing sip, someone saying “hey” makes you look over, and you nearly spit your drink out.

The guy that had given you the wrong direction had come around. You cough up bits of water, holding a hand on your chest. “Why?! God, you scared the hell out of me!”

“Sorry.” He apologizes. You’re not so sure if it’s sincere. “Stephanie McMahon told me about you. You’re [Name], right?”

It takes you a second to reply and he looks at you expectantly. You hold your hand up. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, that’s me.” You nod.

“Roman,” He introduced himself back, setting his hands on the vest of his tactical gear. “I know it’s your first day and all, but do you know who’s in charge?”

“….Vince McMahon?” You offer with a shrug.

Roman chuckles, shaking his head. “You were close. But that’s not it. The Authority is the one in charge.” He clarifies to you. “And you’d best be on their side. Tell me, new girl. Do you plan to be on the side of justice?”

Truth be told, you’re a little intimidated. Again.

You wonder if you even had a choice right now. Before you answer him you decide to take a sip of water, this time, without coughing up a lung.

“Justice, what do you mean by that?”

“The Authority is seeking to make sure that everyone keeps in line.” He explains. “We’ve already got a hold on the men’s division, but the women’s division….”

He trails off, looking toward you expectantly.

“I’m just an interviewer.” You hold your hands up in defense. “I don’t know anything about wrestling. Like anything.”

A lie, but you don’t exactly want to get involved.

You thought it felt weird to call yourself an interviewer, but now you’re going to hold onto that title until it’s convenient enough for you….

“Don’t give me that crap. I know exactly what you are.” So much for that. Roman gets closer to you and you move back just a little. It doesn’t do much, because he’s still in your space.

You’re starting to feel cornered.

“And what I don’t appreciate is people lying to me. Listen, [Name]. Pretty girls like you are always smart. If you knew what’s good for you, you’d better—“

“Hey guys!” A new voice makes you look over Roman. “Roman…and….who’s this?” He points a finger over to you.

“[Name].” You say. This guy might be your potential savior.

He doesn’t really pester any further than that, oddly enough. “Cool. You guys wanna take a selfie?” Before you two could even answer, he’s already approaching with a phone in hand.

“Wait,” You try to stop him. “I’m not ready—“

All Roman does was glare at the camera while you were holding out your hand toward it. He’s already took it and you were caught in the worst off guard moment.

“You guys better get ready for Raw. It starts in like five minutes.” The man recommends. “Thanks for the selfie.”

He saunters off and Roman shakes his head. After the stranger had made some distance, he finally speaks to you. “I can’t stand Theory’s dumbass.”

“Theory?” You repeat. “Who?”

“Austin Theory.” He clarifies. “Won’t stop taking those stupid selfies. It’s all the goddamn time.”

You slowly nod, but take advantage of the fact Austin had said there’s only five minutes until Raw starts. “Gosh. This was such a nice meeting, but I had better get going. You know, interviews and stuff to do.”

Roman says nothing, so you take the opportunity to side-step and walk past him. However, he doesn’t let you get far before saying…

“Better think about what I said. You don’t have much time.”

You’re hoping that wasn’t a threat. And now that you think about it?

He didn’t even apologize for leading you the wrong way!

You were just trying to get ready to be on television. You did everything you could to stand out for your debut, despite some people knowing that you’d show up sometime.

You can only imagine the pre-show talks around on social media. God, you hope you weren’t sweating. You think you’re just overreacting, but you feel like you’re gonna cry.

If you weren’t awake before, you sure are now.

Your phone starts buzzing again on the vanity you were seated at. The stylist who was helping you get things together had stepped away earlier, leaving you be with your thoughts.

Until now. The moment you pick up your phone and open Twitter, you groan.

Roman was right about the selfies being stupid.

Austin had posted it on Twitter. The only thing you’re really focused on is yourself. You look a disheveled mess and you’re happy you could fix yourself up a little bit right now.

You’re reeling as you read some of the responses. Although, some were funnier than others…

@Theory_1 ✓

Roman and some new girl are here today! I caught them in their natural habitat.

1.8K reposts 130 quotes 37K likes

@annsweet_: OMG FREE HER???? WHY DOES SHE LOOK SCARED LMAO

↳ @Lilgrab$78: Nah fr they holding her hostage in there

@Biilionnsmind: Are you serious? [Name] Theory AND Roman? This has gotta be the multiverse

↳ @YourChampion0: Not gonna lie they might be an item. Guess we’ll see if they have something going on or they just were filming something.

@bellstrings: Wait not too much on [Name]…face card is still ACTIVE and ready to TAP!

Along those lines of being mentioned, Austin had followed you as well. But seeing yourself being the talk of others is just surreal. You’re happy about it.

“Hey, [Name].” A stagehand calls. “You’re on in about 2 minutes. You’ll be interviewing Sasha Banks. It’s the only person you’ll be doing, so you’re free to go home after.”

Alright then. You hop up out of your seat. You looked good enough, so you didn’t exactly need that stylist to come back. Your time to shine.

You let the stagehand lead the way to where you’re supposed to be positioned. It’s a nice set up, you think. There’s a red curtain behind you as well as a television settled with “Raw” displayed on it.

“Sasha lost because of interference.” The stagehand informs you. “She’ll go on about the details. But just ask her some questions. She should be here any second now.”

You’ll try. The camera is already settled in front of you, waiting for the go ahead. As soon as he said that, Sasha comes storming into the room. He signals toward the both of you that he’s rolling.

“Wow, Sasha..!” You exclaim, shaking your head. “That was definitely……a match.”

Sasha looks at you with a scowl. “You think?! Becky only got lucky because AJ came out all peppy. I almost had her.” She complains. “I had Becky in the Bank Statement. She was about to tap…”

She literally has to stop talking and take a breath before she loses it. Everyone, even the crowd, can tell that she’s STEAMING.

“…Uh, do you think you’ll need help in the future for AJ? It looks like she’s posing a really big threat to you.” You say. “Cause’ if you’re asking me, it looks like you may need a future tag partner.”

You’re going steady, despite the fact your hand may or may not be shaking a bit. You’re just glad that this segment wasn’t out in the ring. You tilt the mic over to Sasha.

All you had to do was pretend like the camera wasn’t there and that you were having a simple conversation. Everything’s just fine.

You had hoped she would understand that you were insinuating that you could be of assistance, but she takes it the wrong way.

“What, you think I’m not good enough?” She challenges, stepping closer to you. “You think I can’t beat AJ on my own? She’s the one that needs help. That’s why she gets Tamina to do her dirty work. Let me remind you that I’m Sasha Banks. I was the NXT Women’s Champion. The Boss can handle herself in battle and she damn sure doesn’t need someone that’s gonna hold her back.”

“I get it, jeez. I was trying to help you, Sasha.” You explain. It might be a chance to get you active in the ring.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing your job and asking me questions? I don’t need your help.” She fires back.

Whatever. You just shrug it off. “Fine. You want questions, I’ll give you questions. You tagged me on Twitter. When you tagged me on Twitter, was that you trying to put me on notice?”

It’s easy for her to bounce off of what you said.

“You clearly act like you have no idea who I am. Maybe now you’ll get a clue. As a matter of fact, you better leave that fake little sweet innocent act at the door, cause I see right through you.”

“What act? I’m just being me.” It’s true. You really are!

“Right, and Becky must be the best wrestler on the planet…hah! That’s hilarious even thinking about it.” Sasha falls into a laugh, and you fight the urge to smile at her contagious laugh. Instead, you wipe it off in order to look confused.

She takes a breath. “You know what? You wanna help me, prove it to me. You and me, a match next Monday. I know that you’re not gonna do well, but I’ll have fun destroying you anyways, rookie.”

This was your chance!! You can’t fight the excitement, so you immediately agree. “Yes! I mean, yeah. Absolutely. It’s a match, Sasha. Shake on it?”

You offer your free hand to her. Despite her gritting her teeth, she takes it.

Sasha thinks you’re too excited, but she’d be lying if she wasn’t curious to see how you’d fare against her.

Your first match is against Sasha Banks. Thinking about it seemed so surreal. You’ve got a lot to prepare for next Monday.

Sasha’s eyes seem to catch onto something behind you and she groans, snatching her hand back. “Not her—“

“I wasn’t expecting you here, Sasha!” There’s a woman who’s slightly shorter than you that comes over with a championship tucked over her arm. This must’ve been the Divas championship, if the words on the butterfly weren’t evident enough.

“You know, not after you lost. Thought you would’ve went home by now!” She holds onto it even tighter once Sasha gave her a nasty look.

“You must be AJ Lee?” You try to divert some of the tension. “It’s nice to see the divas champion face to face.”

Sasha gags, but AJ giggles at your words. She rubs a hand over the butterfly, looking at you. “Oh pssssh, this? It’s nothing major…it just means I’m the best, but seriously, nothing major. Oh, and Sasha? Sorry Tamina made you lose focus…no hard feelings?”

Sasha rears her fist back and you immediately try to jump in the middle of them. Might’ve been a dumb decision, but it made Sasha immediately freeze once you did. You’re not even sure if AJ flinched.

You’re planted firmly in between them without any plans of moving anytime soon. “Woah, woah woah, can we hold off on the fighting PLEASE?! Why don’t you guys settle it in the ring, just like me and Sasha are?”

“You guys…” AJ looks between you two. “…are wrestling each other? Huh.”

You nod at her. “Yeah. I think you should follow suit. It’s obvious you two have problems.”

“Well, you’re right. It’s not like can’t beat you again, Sasha!” AJ chimes. “Anyway, I’m going to go polish my title! Don’t wait up for me, ladies!”

And just like that, AJ skips off. Sasha slowly turns to look at you and the only thing you can do is look back at her.

“I don’t care,” She starts, pointing a finger at you. “You’re helping in whatever happens, rookie.”

“What?! Why me??” You whine. “This isn’t my issue, the only thing I’m worried about is our match.“

As she’s said earlier, she doesn’t care. “You heard me. All you’ve gotta do is be ready. When I tell you to do something, you go.”

She leaves you with that. An exasperated sigh falls from your lips.

You’ve got more than just your match to worry about now..

#RAWTonight

@WWE ✓

A nearly explosive confrontation tonight on Raw between AJ Lee, [Name], and Sasha Banks. Watch below! 👇🔥

6.7K reposts 310 quotes 67k likes

@xXHibiscus: THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTING!???!!!

↳ @WomenofWWE: Yess! This is what we need, a strong three-way feud! The newbie, the underdog, and the champion. The storylines kind of have been getting boring. I wouldn’t mind Sasha & [Name] vs AJ, or maybe even AJ & [Name] vs Sasha.

↳ @RaeFed: [name] might’ve just saved us hold on

@RoseGambler: [Name] trying to be a peacemaker 😭

↳ @101Mariposa: SASHA WAS LITERALLY ABOUT TO ROCK AJ PLEASE. SHE NEEDS TO MOVE

↳ @ThenNowForever: Why she hit the “Sasha, this isn’t you”??

@MarkPodcast: Never heard of [Name]..…is she new?

↳ @platinumstarred: yeah she was mainly on the indies, wasn’t bad at all like she was rlly good

↳ @MarkPodcast: Hopefully she’ll stay good while she’s here!

@Feistysummer: Sasha saying she doesn’t need help…then turns around and tells [Name] that she’s going to help LOL

↳ @Divas4L: They’re definitely going to be friends, if not best friends in the future..

[thesturniolos]

warning signs

chris sturniolo | angst 😛

| triggers: alcohol, swearing

| long distance makes couples crumble much opposed to the closeness it apparently brings.

| tags: @strniohoeee @sturniolopepsi @estelleswrld @recklesssturniolo @realmoonee @thesturniolos @malsturns @mattslolita @mattsgirlforeva @malusokay @cabincorematt @caitifilms @celestialhacker @chrisolivia4l @sturnsclutter @sturnphilia @sturniolostuff @sturniololoverr @plasticferal @pr1ncessm1ng1 @ilovemattsturn @aesthetxcimagines @dailysturniolo @deatthmatch @justangelheree

“does it ever occur to you that-“

“don’t say it.” i pull my hand up to shade his face from my vision. although he’s my best friend, i can’t begin to talk about it. i swig the bottle and shake my head as i feel the burn fall down my throat.

he runs a hand through his hair and throws his body back onto my bed.

i look down at him to see a weak smile. it’s a smile of sympathy. sympathy that i don’t want or need to have.

“we’re fine.” i say but underneath my sharp tone there’s a slight wobble of concern. because it’s not how it was.

i look down at my phone and it flashes with a notification but i’m distracted by the wallpaper behind it.

it’s a picture of me and chris by the beach. he’s picking me up from the sand and swinging me round while we both laugh. it was the best day of my life. it was the day he asked me to be his, the day he promised me we’d be together forever.

well i believed that. after all, we’d been together for most of our life anyways - thanks to our mums being best friends since they were little, we were kinda destined to be inseparable too.

that was until he went to LA after his youtube career skyrocketed. i had never been happier for him and his brothers, knowing they were doing exactly what they’d dreamed of since we were children.

but what comes with a demanding industry like there’s is crazy fans and all around the clock non-stop entertainment.

our time together lessened and lessened as he signed up for interviews and tours and met more and more fans.

it didn’t bother me because i saw how happy he was to have been given that opportunity and seeing his smile was worth it all.

but it’s when i couldn’t see that grin anymore is when i found myself slipping into a place of darkness, like the curtains had been drawn on me.

i didn’t feel like a girlfriend anymore, i felt like a shadow. like a burden even.

even before they left for the big LA, he seemed to have become irritated by my presence, he started to go to bed early and i only saw him for about fifteen minutes when i got up and ten minutes when i got home before he found something else to do.

matt and nick saw this happening and tried to include me into their videos and podcasts but chris made it clear that i wasn’t allowed claiming the fans wouldn’t like it.

but what if i didn’t like it? did that even matter?

so now i find myself nearly 3000 miles away looking down at the bright light in my hand, wishing he was next to me and that it was like old times.

except he hadn’t texted me in a week and he’s been gone six months. that’s nearly 200 days without seeing him.

to think last year i couldn’t have gone 24 hours without a hug from him to now holding a teddy in my arms wishing it were chris.

i felt embarrassed to sit here and still think naively think we were still even a thing. because what’s a relationship without words?

i understand long distance is hard but nobody said it would do this to us, we were supposed to be forever.

i often think about the day at the beach, i wish it never happened. then i wouldn’t feel broken now.

“i really think you ought to call him.” says nate.

nate had been the triplets’ best friend too. he just like me was dropped but he still remained close with the likes of matt and nick.

“but it’s always me calling and it’s always me texting. how long do i have to fucking wait until he does that for me, nate? because quite frankly i’m fed up with being the only one who cares around here.”

there was silence for a bit and i could feel him staring at me.

a tear falls down my cheek and i let it fall onto my leg.

“i miss him so much, nate. why doesn’t he want me anymore?”

“i don’t know.” he hugs me in close and rubs my arm.

the truth is, this is the first hug i’ve had for six months.

“y/n?” the door opens and i’m face to face with the one person i need most.

“chris?”

[cinematic-phosphenes]

About Blood & Cheese and Daemon:

What if Daemon knew exactly what he was doing? Sending two bumbling fools (one of whom has no combat training and can’t even fight anything more formidable than a rat) after that one-eyed, one-man army Aemond was a dumb idea likely to fail. And Daemon is not dumb.

He told Blood and Cheese he wanted a son for a son. (Blood: “A son for a son, he said.”) He warned them Aemond is dangerous. He waved a fortune in front of two people desperate for money and told them they’d only get the second half if they brought back a head. And the last part of the conversation between the three of them was very nudge nudge, wink wink.

Cheese: “What if we can’t find him?” (Translation: I’m not taking on that walking anime villain Aemond. I don’t have a death wish.)

Daemon: “Serving a meaningful look in the federal crimes hoodie” (Translation: A son for a son. Do your worst.)

So which royal sons are in the Red Keep apart from Aemond? Aegon and Jaehaerys. Aegon is the king and likely to be so heavily guarded that B & C wouldn’t get anywhere near him. (And for reasons unknown Aegon was the only royal in the Red Keep who had a security detail on them that night. Well, apart from Alicent, but Criston Cole wasn’t technically on her.)

That leaves Jaehaerys, a defenceless child, the most likely option B & C will go for considering their skill set. Daemon most likely knew that if any Green royal son was going to die that night, it was going to be Jaehaerys. B & C killing Aemond was a pipe dream, but Daemon saw an opportunity to potentially take out the Green king’s heir and he took it.

Why?

Rhaenyra wanted justice for Luke. Killing Aemond would be just given how Westerosi law and order seems to work. Daemon just wants cold-blooded revenge. He wants to wound the other side as badly as they've wounded Rhaenyra.

Would Rhaenyra order the killing of an innocent child? Probably not. Taking out the Green heir is a very strategic move that would destabilize the Greens and benefit Rhaenyra’s side, but Daemon would have to do it behind her back.

The Greens might blame Aemond for what happened to Jaehaerys, given it was a retaliation to his fuck up at Storm’s End. If the Greens turn against the man controlling their biggest nuke, that will destabilize them even more.

Rhaenyra is practising restraint even after what happened to her son. Does Daemon think the Greens will practise the same restraint if their young son is killed? He probably doesn't. From Daemon's POV, this is likely to start the all-out war he's been frothing at the mouth for.

Daemon was frustrated that Rhaenyra was mourning Luke instead of fighting the war. Rhaenyra is not moving on to other matters before she gets justice for Luke. But taking Aemond out at this point is difficult to impossible. From Daemon's POV, they'd be stuck unless he moved things along. Post B & C, Daemon can say he tried to give Rhaenyra what she wanted, he tried to get Aemond for her, but it failed unfortunately. He got what he wanted and he has plausible deniability.

Daemon probably thinks he's helped Rhaenyra's cause by doing this. He's being loyal in his own messed up way. He's the Rogue Prince King Consort. But this is not what Rhaenyra wanted and she probably won't be happy with Daemon at all.

[insert-witty-user-name-here]

WIP Wednesday (sorta)

No WIPs on the horizon for me but I’ve been tagged in an assortment of writing posts (thank you all 🥰❤️❤️) so thought I’d use the opportunity to share a (very angsty) scene from my cutting room floor that I like but never quite went anywhere.

O.B. and Casey ask Mobius for his opinion on a new statue dedicated to Loki at the TVA, angst ensues.

***

Mobius blinks, pulled from his memories by the sound of chairs scraping against the linoleum floor. The meeting is over. His coworkers gather their things and meander out of the conference room—laughing, gossiping, planning follow-up meetings—but Mobius stays seated and stares at his notepad. It's empty. He slumps, running a weary hand through his hair. He hadn’t paid any attention to Judge Gamble’s briefing on this cycle’s latest threats to the multiverse. Again.

He’ll need to get the notes from Bea. Mobius gets up, trying to ignore the churning in his stomach as he searches for Bea amongst the crowd. There’s no way she hasn’t noticed Mobius slipping—the way he’s constantly asking for her notes, the decreasing numbers of files he’s completing, how patterns that used to seem so obvious elude him lately. She’s looked the other way thus far but eventually she’ll need to take disciplinary action, whatever that means in their new TVA. Mobius can handle it and honestly, she’s already given him more leeway than she should as their new Director.

It doesn’t take long for him to find her. Bea’s standing at the end of the hallway, embroiled in what appears to be a hushed argument with Casey and O.B. Despite the anxiety pounding through his system, Mobius’ curiosity spikes.

“Hey guys.”

Bea jumps slightly at his approach—odd—and turns around with a forced smile. “Oh, hey Mobius,”

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she answers too quickly. She shifts when O.B. tries to get around her, file in hand. It's a futile attempt to hide the technician from Mobius’ view.

“Right,” Mobius chuckles, stepping around Bea to take the file from O.B.’s outstretched hands. He might be losing his edge but he’s not useless yet. He can detect a lie when he sees one. “You know, Bea, I might have believed you if not for…”

The words die in Mobius’ throat as soon as he opens the file.

They’re plans. Plans for a new statue in the atrium; a statue dedicated to the person who made everything they do now possible, the holder of all the timelines, their savior, the person whose absence is felt like a dagger to Mobius’ chest with every heartbeat.

He looks gorgeous, just like always. Whoever designed the statue did a great job. They almost captured Loki’s likeness. His hair curls loosely about his shoulders, his jaw set and determined, his expression regal—though his eyes are missing that familiar, mischievous twinkle. He’s dressed in emerald robes and wearing those magnificent horns Mobius had last seen him in. In all his years studying Loki variants, Mobius had never seen a Loki with a larger set. They’re a testament to the power he wielded that day. After centuries, it seemed Loki finally found his glorious purpose. Mobius wishes the sight filled him with pride. Instead, he’s taken straight back to his nightmares.

“We wanted to honor him,” Casey begins in a soft voice, “but we weren’t sure if it’s what he would want so we thought we’d ask…” Casey trails off.

They thought they’d ask the Loki expert, Mobius finishes, gulping past the lump forming in his throat. Smart plan. If anyone knew how Loki would want to be remembered, it would be Mobius. Except…

He doesn’t know.

The thought strikes Mobius with harrowing realization. In another time, this statue would be exactly what Loki would want. Mobius’ mouth quirks up into a smile as he recalls the statue Loki had arranged for himself on the Sacred Timeline following his fake death on Svartalfheim. It had been a grandiose, expensive thing. Another prank pulled by the God of Mischief.

Mobius’ smile is gone as soon as it appears because that Loki isn’t his Loki. This time, it isn’t a trick. It isn’t part of some grand plan. Or, at least, not one that Mobius can understand.

He has so many questions about that day. How long had Loki been timeslipping? How many other options had he tried before he settled on that final decision? What led him there? Had he spoken with someone beforehand; had they led Loki to this conclusion?

Mobius shuts his eyes in an effort to clear the now familiar tears building behind them. Why hadn’t Loki talked to him? What hadn’t he asked for help? Mobius is sure he could have convinced Loki to try something else. They could have figured out a solution if only they’d worked together. Why did Loki think this was the only option? Why did this sacrifice fall to him and him alone? Why didn’t he say goodbye? Why? Why? Why? Why? The questions circle around and around in Mobius’ head. Forever unanswered.

“Mobius?” O.B. prompts. “Do you know if Loki would be okay with this? We don’t want to move forward until we know.”

Mobius opens his mouth in an attempt to answer but nothing comes out. He doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know if this is what Loki would want because that Loki, the Loki who sacrificed himself for all of them, is a stranger to Mobius. That Loki had spent who knows how long traveling through time, attempting to find a solution, alone. There are no reels for what happens within the TVA, no reels for Mobius to analyze.

Sometimes, when he dreams, Mobius swears he can remember moments with Loki that never happened. Arguments, laughter, philosophical conversations over pie, even… There’s one night in particular Mobius returns to often in his dreams. He flushes at the memory before shaking it away. It all feels so real when he’s asleep but when he’s awake his memories jumble together until he can’t determine what happened and what didn’t. It makes him feel untethered, these half-forgotten memories, these dreams, these fantasies. Mobius settles on that last word: fantasies. That's all they are. Something his mind has manufactured in a desperate attempt to make sense of what Loki did.

“Mobius?” O. B. tries again. “Is this what Loki would want?”

Would want. Past tense. Because Loki isn’t coming back. Not this time. Mobius takes a breath but it doesn't reach his lungs.

“I—” he stutters. The papers shake in his hands, that image of Loki holding the timelines grows larger on the page until it consumes the world around him and Mobius feels himself slipping back into his memories. “Um, I don’t…”

Suddenly, it’s too bright and the ringing in his ears has returned. It’s the alarm from the observation deck blaring a warning that they’re running out of time until the loom breaks. Mobius’ wipes sweat from his brow. It’s excruciatingly hot; he wonders if he should be worried about the temporal radiation leaking through the glass window before him but he can’t focus on anything except Loki. Loki walking out onto the gangway. Loki raising his arms to break the loom. Loki grabbing hold of the timelines and breathing life into them with that brilliant, beautiful green magic of his. Loki turning back, one last time, to give him a smile before he-

“Mobius?” Bea puts a grounding hand on Mobius’ arm and Mobius forces himself to the present. He can’t allow himself to be overtaken by that particular memory again. He can’t.

“I’m fine,” Mobius says after a moment. “Just a headache. Really,” he adds at Bea’s unconvinced stare before turning to O.B. and Casey. “To answer your question, O.B., I don’t know. I don’t know what Lo-“ Mobius’ voice catches on the name. “I don’t know what he’d want. Not anymore. Maybe he’d like a statue. Maybe not. I just… I don’t…”

“It’s okay,” Bea cuts in, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll put the plans on hold and revisit them later.” Her last words are unmistakably a stern warning to O.B. and Casey to drop the subject.

“But-” O.B. starts.

“We get it,” Casey nods. “We’ll come back later. Feel better, Mobius.”

With a pitying glance that Mobius begrudges but can’t say he doesn’t deserve, Casey takes the file from his hands and guides O.B. back down the hallway, leaving Bea and Mobius alone.

Mobius half expects Bea to follow, he can’t imagine her to do list, but she doesn’t. He can feel her eyes boring down at him while he scuffs at the TVA emblem on the floor below. For all time. Always. Mobius snorts. Yeah, right.

He knows what he has to do. He can’t be here anymore. The memories are too loud, too painful. And more importantly, the new TVA deserves better than an old, washed-up analyst broken beyond repair.

Mobius takes a shuddering breath. “Look, Bea, I’ve been thinking…”

“Can we get some lunch,” Bea interrupts.

Mobius meets her gaze confused. He knows they need to have this conversation. He knows that she knows that they need to have this conversation and yet…

Neither of them are ready. He can see it in her eyes. Somehow she knows what he’s about to say and she doesn’t want to have this conversation any more than he does.

“I’ve been implementing some changes,” Bea starts. “Trying to get something better than wilted salad and stale pizza in the cafeteria,” she adds with an awkward laugh. Then, she pauses, uncharacteristically hesitant “I’d love to get your thoughts if you’ve got time. If anyone knows how to make this place better, it’s you and …I could really use your help, Mobius.”

Mobius sighs. It’s an easily delegatable task, a distraction technique. Bea doesn’t need his help picking the food in the cafeteria. But—Mobius meets Bea’s gaze—she’s scared. There’s no script for them now; the future is unknown. There’s no guarantee that anything they do will make a difference or if it’s even the right thing to do. Amidst all the changes, she needs the reassurance. And in a way Mobius does too. The TVA might be haunted for him now but it’s the only home he can remember. He doesn’t know where to begin out on the Timelines. He isn’t sure if he’s ready to leave. Yet.

“Sure,” Mobius says. “Let’s grab some lunch and we can talk through your plans for the place. I’m sure they’re great.”

Bea smiles in relief and they make their way to the cafeteria. Mobius half-listens as she chatters away, outlining her plans to improve life at the TVA. He won’t be here to see them through. It’s only a matter of time before he leaves but that conversation can wait a little longer.

***

The finale was sad but lemme tell you the tears didn’t come for me until that conversation with B-15 and Mobius. 😭💔

Anyway, sorry to leave it here with hurt/no comfort but if you need some comfort, recommend Tell Me Some Things Last - a lovely story by @loki-is-my-kink-awakening about Sylvie & Mobius healing that I’ve fully adopted into my own headcanon. Also shamelessly plugging my own Lokius S2 reunion fic (which is where this scene was going to drive towards eventually anyway).

No pressure tagging my fellow creatives back for a “last line” “seven sentence Sunday” or “WIP Wednesday” whatever floats your boat. I want to hear what you’re working on and absolutely love reading your writing updates as they come in!

Happy writing! 💖

@loki-is-my-kink-awakening @lgwilt @kcscribbler @blackbirdofasgard @queen-of-meows @dewdropreader @mirilyawrites @wolfpup026

[lonelierthanu]

Penmanship

Satoru Gojo x Gender-neutral Reader

series: incomplete

words: 3.4k

warnings: mentions of smoking; funny; meet-ugly; no mentioned female or male anatomy; no curses; college au

summary: you decided you never want to see this man again and fuck the pen altogether. Well, life has other plans.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 …+

Your coffee splashed dramatically against the concrete wall you tossed it at. You’re pissed, to say the least, and the sugarless coffee —that you asked for extra sugar for— was your tipping point.

You were behind some bleachers that laid against the wall outside the dining hall. You’re not sure why these bleachers are here? They seem old and were probably here way before the school was renovated and they put in a huge football field across campus. The school is old so you wouldn’t be surprised if they just left it here. But right now you’re grateful they did because you’re knee deep in a tantrum, if one wants to consider it one, and this is your only sanctuary at the moment.

“Was that necessary?” Aoi asks you, after he takes a drag from his cigarette.

“I thought you said you were going to quit?” Rikki asks from beside him.

“And I thought you said you would never date Tenji,” he mumbles under his breath as he takes another drag and doesn’t bother blowing away from her direction, a courtesy he would have usually given. Rikki scowls at the side of his face.

“We’re not dating.”

“The pictures on his instagram say something different,” Aoi takes another drag.

“I was… drunk…” Rikki crosses her arms as she kicks a rock towards your direction. It lands back in its spot after bouncing off your shoe. It startled her attention towards you, like she suddenly remembered you were there.

You roll your eyes at both of them and lean against the opposite wall from them. Since you’ve known them they’ve had a weird relationship. At least in your eyes. You’ve known them for a little longer than a year and they’ve had an on and off crush on each other since the three of you met. And the two sides have never been on the same page. One person has a crush on the other, then the other gets feelings when the other person loses feelings . It’s a weird dynamic that you wish they’d get over already.

But a part of you wants it to stay this way, so your friendship never changes. But you know that one day this weird game of tug of war will come to an end and it’ll either end in peace, or someone in the mud.

“To answer your question Aoi, yes. That was completely necessary,” You say to break the silence. Rikki jumps at the opportunity to change the subject and cut through the tension. She comes to lean next to you.

“What’s got your panties in a twist anyway?”

“Remember that creepster that thought I was hitting on him for a week?” Rikki tries to hold back her laugh. She fails. You had told her about what happened the next morning after the incident on Saturday. Despite her hangover she found the misunderstanding hilarious. Laughing while saying ‘oh my god, that is so something he would do!’ And you ended up filling Aoi in during one of your class periods you shared with him a couple hours ago.

“Yeah,” she answers, failing to hide her smile.

“Well my professor paired us up for a group project,” you cross your arms.

“At the end of the semester?” Aoi asks as he stomps on his cigarette to put it out, “How does she expect you to get a project done during the week of exams?”

“No, starting next semester is when we start the project. The worst part is, we’ll be working on it ‘till February,” You groaned into your hands, covering your face with them.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” Rikki tries to console you by putting a hand on your shoulder. You put your hands down to glare at her.

“Don’t jinx me,” Rikki laughs at you. Aoi smirks, also finding this amusing. “And wipe that smug look off your face,” you point a finger directly in Aoi’s face. He pushes your hand out of the way and rolls his eyes at you, still smug.

You stuff your hands into your jacket pockets, trying to fight off the cold. You’re not looking forward to next semester, to say the least, and when you heard the devastating news of Creepster being your project partner you immediately started thinking of ways to get out of it.

Because since that Saturday you had heard no word of this man until that following Monday. He came in late, like usual, but before he showed up your professor had given the whole spiel about the details of the new project the class would be working on. Everyone picked their own partner but you since there was an odd number of students in the class. Then Creepster walked in.

She told him you’d be his partner and he turned his head to look at you while she vaguely explained the project to him. Your body turned cold when his smirk grew wider. Like he was looking forward to this. The professor dismissed him to his seat saying you could explain in more detail.

When he sat down he faced you, completely ignoring the rest of the professor’s lecture. He leaned his head on his hand, smirk still present on his face. You refused to look at him and continued looking forward.

“Hey partner,” you internally recoiled. He sensed your unease and with the new bout of knowledge that this guy thinks you have some sort of crush on him, or just wanna get in his pants, he probably took your unease for nervousness. The thought alone pissed you off.

He barely got two words out of you in that class, which was yesterday, and today was no better. Though somehow you ended up agreeing to go to his house (his real house) to outline and plan the beginning of the project to finish it faster after the break. It was his idea and it honestly shocked you to hear him suggest a genuine responsible plan. Not gonna lie, you definitely thought the word “ responsible “ didn’t exist within his vocabulary.

You only mildly cared about this idea. You mostly agreed to do so you can finally get that damn pen back before you go on break. You’ll be damned if you go home empty handed when you confidently told your niece you’d bring it back.

“So. What are you gonna do?” Aoi asks, putting his hands into his jacket pockets as well.

“Get my pen back,” you answer, then your phone rings before you can look at his confused expression. It’s your alarm to go to your last class. You leave them to ruminate in their awkward tension.

Creepster told you he’d pick you up after school to take you to his house. You were definitely uncomfortable with the idea of being alone in a car with this man, but you don’t have money for a ride right now, Rikki went to work today, and it beats walking an hour and a half to his place.

You waited at the school's gate for fifteen minutes and was about to text him when you remembered you don't have his number. But before you could stress over that fact, a shiny black Lexus pulled up in front of you. The driver window lowered revealing a strange man at the wheel. He said your name and asked if you were who you were. You didn’t answer at first but then Creepster moved into your line of vision in the passenger seat.

“Get in loser,” he laughed at his own reference, then smiled at you. You rolled your eyes and opened the door to the back seat.

The drive was fairly short, probably a little shorter than ten minutes, and the drive was not silent. But you were glad for that, because if it weren’t for the surprisingly good tunes being blasted through the speakers, you know your awkward uncomfortable air would have permeated through the windows for the other drivers on the road to feel. You’re also glad that you aren’t alone with this guy. That would have been a whole different situation for you.

When you pull up to his house you physically feel the hinges connecting your jaw to your skull unclick. You gawk at the state of his house while you pick your jaw up off the car floor.

His house is fucking huge.

And this is his actual house. You have half a mind to confirm that.

When you head inside you have to put in extra effort to keep your eyes from bulging out of their sockets. It’s just as beautiful on the inside as it is on the outside. The difference between this and the frat house is vast.

For starters, it’s furnished way better. Which makes you think he definitely didn’t do it himself. It’s clean, which you weren’t expecting, and it smells nice. Another thing you weren’t expecting but desperately hoping for.

“So, should we get started?” Creepster says from behind you. It startles you how close he is. You jump at least a foot away before turning to him.

“Yeah,” you say, calmer than your heart is beating. He guides you to his dining room where a large circular table resides next to a beautiful huge island with high bar stools tucked into it and a sink in the middle. The dining area is surrounded by windows, letting copious amounts of natural sunlight in. The room is brightly lit without any lights being on. It’s impressive. This is the type of room you’d save in a pinterest board.

He pulls out a chair for you to sit on, but the way he smiles at you after pisses you off so you sit in the chair next to it. He seems amused by this, and chuckles fondly.

“I’m gonna go grab my laptop, I'll be right back. Don’t go anywhere,” he jokes. You don’t laugh, but he walks away without seeing if you do or not. You see him walk through an alcove in the kitchen and go to the right. Once you know he’s gone you look more thoroughly at your surroundings. You see a set of grandiose stairs in the living room by the entry. And from where you’re seated you can see two halls up there and a third one could exist but it’s too high to tell. You already know you’d get lost trying to walk through here. Your family would have to send a search team to find you.

Your eyes shift over to see grand imposing glass doors that lead to a pool, there could be more land out there but you can’t tell from where you’re sitting. But from how huge the estate is from when you pulled up you already know the backyard is huge. You don’t see any other doors around besides the one in the kitchen, but you just assume that’s a broom closet or a bathroom or something.

Just from looking around you’ve lost a glimmer of hope of finding this pen. It’d be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. You’re already preparing the apology to your niece in your head.

“You want a tour?” You whip your head around to see Houdini putting his laptop and bag onto the table and pulling a chair out across from you.

“No,” you answer immediately because the thought of him knowing you’re impressed by his home makes you wanna scratch at your skin. But after a quick second you realize that that could’ve been your chance to find the pen. You curse at yourself. He sits down and opens his laptop. You take yours out from your bag and place it on the table as well.

You want to just open your mouth and ask for the pen again, but a part of you is scared he’ll think you're trying to hit on him again. You agreed to come to his house so that could definitely send the wrong message in this guy’s delusional brain.

“Can I get your notes on the project so far?” He asks without looking up from his laptop. You take your notebook out of your bag and slide it across the table. He shares a doc with you before opening it. So, he really is going to work on this project. A part of you thought this was another ruse to sleep with you. To say you’re relieved is an understatement.

The next half hour goes by with him asking you yes or no questions, finding resources to cite from, quotes, studies, creating the powerpoint and typing in each slide what each should consist of, and starting a rough draft for the essay you’re meant to write. Everything is going pretty smoothly and you’re proud of the progress you’ve made in such a short time. You’re also pleasantly surprised by Herc-Houdini’s work ethic. You’re starting to think he might not be that bad.

And honestly, when you think about the situation, you can kind of see how he misunderstood. It may seem a little absurd to you that asking for a pen correlates to ‘please sleep with me’, but if there are people doing weirder things to get him to sleep with them, then you kind of understand. You’re still not very keen on him though. His reputation and the crowd he’s associated with just puts you off.

Hercules groans loudly as he stretches his arms. The muscles in them tense and show off the gains he’s worked for. A small part of you thinks that he wore that shirt on purpose, but when he’s relaxed he looks as skinny and lanky as always.

I’ll be right back,” he tells you before getting up and heading for that same alcove, going to the left. You vaguely notice him going in a different direction than before and go back to doing your work. You almost jolt with the realization that you could look around and find the pen while he’s gone.

Frankly, this could be a terrible idea. You don’t know what he’s doing so he could be back any moment. You could say you were looking for a bathroom, but then you could’ve just asked when he got back. You’re already up and walking while thinking of the logistics of this plan. It’s stupid, you know, but what if you find the pen? It seems like a great risk to reward ratio to you.

Knowing Sherlock went to the left you check there first once you’ve met the alcove, then dash to the right and go through the first door you see. Unfortunately, you’re met with a bathroom so your excuse has now flown out the window. You could just play dumb.

Before you exit, you listen to the door, then slowly open it to peek outside. Still nothing, so you leave, closing the door behind you before going to the next one. You do this three more times. You were met with two closets and a study, that you did search just in case. When you see the end of the hall you start to feel disappointed, but then you realize there’s a sharp corner. When you turn it, you see a narrow set of stairs.

At this point, you know that you took entirely too long and that Houdini has most likely gone back to the table and realized you were gone. Taking these stairs will make your search even longer and there’s no plausible explanation you could give that’ll justify you snooping around this guy’s house.

You give yourself three seconds to think it over.

Fuck it.

You’re justifying the irrationality of your actions to yourself as you trudge up the stairs, also pretending that the consequences that will undoubtedly follow won’t be that bad. But really? What’s the worst that could happen? He bans you from his home? No biggie. If you find this pen, you don’t plan on coming back anyway.

Or maybe he’ll hate you and think you’re extremely unmannered. Fine by you, then the feeling of dislike will be mutual and he’ll finally leave you alone forever.

Or maybe he’ll lie to his “clique” that you’re a thief and only agreed to do a project with him so you could slither your way into his house and they all make fun of you for the duration of your college career which will then spiral into more awful rumors and you’ll be branded an outcast and be ridiculed so horrendously that not even your friends will want to be around you…

…Or maybe you’re overthinking it entirely and it’ll all be perfectly fine.

As you come to a stop at the top of the stairs you realize that there were three halls up here. You don’t dare check the view below in fear that Sherlock will see you. So, you creep along the wall that you hope isn’t in view from down stairs and bolt for the nearest hallway. Heart beat pumping a million beats per second.

You open the first door, a closet. A second door, a very small bedroom with nothing but a bed and a lonely side table. A third door, a much bigger room with a pretty sweet gaming setup, though it looks unfinished.

The end of the hall, a large room that’s akin to a master bedroom, a bathroom and balcony included. The room isn’t quite messy, but it does appear to be lived in. The bed unmade, a dresser drawer left open, a couple clothing items on the floor near the hamper, and miscellaneous items strewn about in flat surfaces.

A pair of huge, round, dark sunglasses sitting on top of the dresser tell you exactly whose room you’ve stumbled into.

Once you’ve realized, a moment of doubt passes through you. What if he finds you here? But as quickly as it came, it passed. You’ve made it this far unnoticed, what’s one more minute.

A quick glance tells you that the pen isn’t lying about so you begin your search. You only look in places it could possibly be and refrain from his dressers. You check random bags that were in his extraordinarily large walk-in closet. You check in hoodie and pants pockets even. You leave the closet with a fraction less of hope and check under his bed. Still Nothing. You have half a mind to check his dirty clothes but decide to check his bedside drawers before getting that desperate.

It’s when you’re about to wiggle yourself from under Houdini’s bed that you hear it.

“Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to snoop?”

You jolt so hard you hit your head on the bed frame while trying to frantically wiggle free. When you do, you're met with that same smirk. Like he’s amused to find you this way. He walks towards you from the door frame, you unconsciously backup and bump against the side table. He stops right in front of you and bends down slightly to tower over you, his face slightly shrouded in darkness.

“If you wanted a tour you could have just said so,” he drawls deeply, in a quiet tone that sends a shiver down your spine.

“No, I-“ he chuckles.

“You, what? hm?” he takes one of his hands out of his pockets to reveal your pen, “You we’re looking for this?” Your eyes widen for a fraction of a second before a glare marks its position on your face. Was he making fun of you?

“Give it to me,” you try to reach for it, but he effortlessly dodges out of the way. He patronizingly waves a finger at you.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he taunts, “I can’t just give it to you now,” irritation bubbles within you.

“And why the hell not?”

“Because. You pranced around my house uninvited and invaded my privacy,” You stand up, refusing to be looked down upon, even though standing up he’s still taller than you.

“So? Then what do you want?” He hums to your question and puts the end of the pen on his chin as he contemplates.

“How much are you willing to do for this pen?” You raise a judgmental eyebrow at him. “Of course nothing drastic,” he adds, “but how far are you willing to go?”

“Well, if i’m willing to stifle through a man’s house like some kind of thief then I guess you can gauge it yourself,” He smiles at that. He lowers his glasses and you see his crystal blue eyes in person for the first time. You’re almost enraptured by them until he opens his mouth.

“Date me.”

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ💚ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ💚ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ💚ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

when i tell you i didn’t know what the fuck to write 💀last chapter i realized that is abt to be a s l o w b u r n and i’m right there along with you guys wondering what’s abt to happen next 😭 hopefully chapter 5 won’t take 4 months this time 🙃

<- prev

[hornyfor-redacted-onmain]

Date Day Pt. 2

Pieces of My Heart - Chapter 17 Stray Kids OT8 x reader, Soulmate AU Trigger Warning: Midly suggestive comment made, creepy behavior, and technical assault (reader gets grabbed)

Masterlist | Next Part

You got a message as you were getting ready. Having just finished taking a shower, you checked your phone to see that it was Sophie, who had sent you some memes and a sweet message asking how you were. You answered truthfully telling her you were good but still getting used to a new place. After a second to consider it, you sent her a photo of your two favorite outfit ideas with a question mark.

She answered back immediately.

Sophie oooh, date night? the first one looks really good, the second one is a little too revealing let me know how it goes :) Y/N yeah, first date. kinda nervous wish me luck!

The flood of sweet messages that followed made you smile. You took the outfit she had chosen (which included a beautiful soft sweater that just so happened to match Felixs’) and put it on. You finish getting ready just in time to hear a knock on the door, and you grab your keys and phone before opening the door.

You pause, and then hold up a finger. “Give me a second.”

For your birthday a year prior, you had been given a polaroid camera. The first few weeks you had been obsessed, taking pictures of everything and anything just to shake the polaroids out and feel cool doing it, but eventually you had gotten over it. The camera had been rediscovered in the process of packing your bags, and you had brought it along on a whim.

The sight waiting for you at the front door felt like the perfect opportunity to use it.

Felix and Hyunjin were both caught off guard when you snapped the first photo, but as you shake out the photo, they quickly get excited. They both pose for the second photo without you even having to ask. You hold up the first polaroid as the second one develops, showing it to the two boys with a smile as they crowd next to you to take a look.

Breathtakingly beautiful, and yet somehow homey, you were surprised that Hyunjin had toned down his date outfit compared to what he would normally wea. He had picked an all-black outfit that wouldn’t stand out so easily but still managed to make him look like a hundred bucks. He had his hair slicked back, and you knew his face would mostly be covered with a mask while out in public, but in the photo you could appreciate his model good looks in full.

Felix somehow managed to look ethereal, even with wide eyes of surprise. His mouth was slightly parted, having caught sight of the camera just before you took the photo. His hair was slightly messy, freckles barely seen with the washed-out coloring of the polaroid, but he looked just as beautiful as always, even though he was slightly blurry.

“Yah, a little warning would have been nice,” Felix said, even though he smiled down at the photo.

Hyunjin was already looking at the second. “Ah, this one came out so good. Do you mind if I take a photo of it?”

“Don’t go posting any photos on social media just yet. You don’t want fans to recognize you,” You warned.

“I know,” Hyunjin said, pulling out his phone. “I’ll post it later.”

You hear another snap and look back at Felix just in time to see him shaking out one last polaroid, and you roll your eyes. He smirks.

“Had to get one of you too. Especially when you look so breathtaking.”

“Hmm, they’d look so pretty in a photo shoot, wouldn’t they,” Hyunjin muttered, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye as he takes a photo of the polaroid. “All the beautiful clothes they could wear.”

Felix eyes the photo he took of you. “I think they’d look prettier if they weren’t wearing anything at all.”

“Felix!”

“Sorry babe,” He said, not looking sorry at all.

-0-0-

You weren’t normally a big fan of museums. The paintings were pretty enough, but they never really spoke to you the same way you assumed it did to more artistic people, like Hyunjin. Still, the instillation that he had brought you two for your date was not only the most colorful thing you had ever had the pleasure of walking through, but somehow also very open in its meaning.

You noticed it from the very first room you three walked in. It was covered in colorful strings, which at first just looked pretty, but from certain points in the room the strings would line up just right enough for an image to form. You spotted a butterfly first, and then what looked like a leaf.

Felix waved you over from the furthest corner, joined by two teenagers and a family of three.

“It’s the cocoon. I’m guessing that there’s a caterpillar somewhere,” he told you.

You looked around until you spotted another small group of people in a spot you hadn’t been to before. After pointing it out to him, the two of you walked over hand in hand to find that it was indeed the spot where the strings formed a caterpillar, and he grinned, leading you around the room to watch the entire process take place. You met back up with Hyunjin at the door to the next room, and he eyed your joined hands with a smirk.

“How are you liking the colors?” He asked Felix.

Felix looked back at the strings with wide eyes. “I’m more surprised they managed to form different images with the same strings.”

“Hmm, I think you’ll like this one too.”

Hyunjin led the two of you into the next room. The walls and sectioned off parts of the floor had what you assumed were cotton, only they were dyed in soft pastel colors that matched the soft pastel ombre of the walls and floors. The cotton in the sectioned of portions had small entrances, where workers would allow small groups of 3 or 4 people walk across the ground barefoot. Felix let out a small sound in surprise.

“Wow. It’s like the colors are … only kind of there, but still there. So white.”

You hummed. “I think it’s supposed to be the sky. Look, it’s mostly blue, red, orange, and pink. It’s like a sunset.”

“The cotton is the clouds,” Hyunjin agreed, taking Felix’s other hand. “Want to go walk on the clouds with me?”

Felix nodded, and the three of you made it over to the sectioned off portion. You had to wait a few minutes in the line to walk across, and the worker warned you all to walk slowly and to be careful, but once you felt the ‘clouds’ under your feet you knew that it was worth the wait. You were also immediately sure that it wasn’t cotton you were walking on.

“It’s so soft!” Felix exclaimed, wiggling his toes.

The boys waddled ahead of you, Hyunjin even reaching down to touch whatever you were walking on with his own hands in awe.

It really did feel like you were walking on a cloud.

The second installation wasn’t as interactive as the first two. It consisted of multiple pop-art paintings hanged around the room, and Hyunjin was more than eager to explain some of them to Felix. You, however, made your way around the room quickly, and with a quick thumbs up from the boys to show that it was okay, you advanced to the next room by yourself.

This one truly stumped you. You weren’t sure what it was, no matter how long you looked at it. It was a large pane of glass that nearly split the room in two, and splatters of paint littered across the glass. There were lots of dark blue and green peeking out in spots, but most of the glass was covered in bright red splatters, like someone had launched buckets of paint right at it.

You must have spent a long time staring at the art piece trying to understand because Hyunjin and Felix caught up to you, Hyunjin wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“It’s kind of sad, isn’t it,” he murmured.

You blinked. “I don’t get it.”

He pointed out the green and blue splotches on the edge. “It’s supposed to be the earth. The blue and green is the planet, and the red represents … well, I guess you could take it literally as blood covering the earth. But I think it does a good job of representing violence, pain, anger, evil. Its pretty open to interpretation.”

“Oh,” you said, nodding in understanding. “Huh, I never would have thought of that.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “He’s just reading the information packet we were handed at the entrance.”

“You mean the one I stuffed in my bag and haven’t looked at since we got here?” You said sheepishly, reaching for the now crumbled paper.

Hyunjin laughed.

Felix began to wander off towards the other side of the room, but Hyunjin stayed with you as you started to read through the packet, learning about the artists of each piece and the meaning behind them. Hyunjin wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin against your shoulder, slowly rocking the two of you side to side.

You giggled. “I can’t read if you keep moving me.”

“You don’t need that anyways. I’ll explain everything to you,” he assured you.

“I’m sure you’ll do a better job anyways,” You said, giving up and deciding you’ll finish the packet back at home. “I love the way you explain things. I love the way you see things.”

“I just appreciate all the little things, the beauty in life. It makes all the big things that much more meaningful.”

“Like what?”

He pressed his mask up against your cheek in leu of a kiss, and you leaned back into his embrace. “Like you.”

“You’re such a romantic.”

“Hmm.”

The two of you stood there for another minute, softly rocking back and forth. You closed your eyes and let his warmth wash over you, the feel of his skin on yours, his chest expanding and retracting as he breathed, his soft humming in your ear.

You smiled. “You mean the world to me.”

He just held you tighter in response.

-0-0-

You had once again managed to wander ahead of the boys. You decided to wait for them in a quitter section, sitting down on a bench and scrolling through your phone as you waited. A family walked through, their chatter filling the small room, but they eventually moved on, and you took a second to observe the painting in front of you.

It was pretty, not as colorful as some of the other pieces you had seen today, but you imagined it had some deeper meaning you didn’t quite get.

A guy a little bit older than you sits down on the bench next to you, and you quickly move you bag closer to your body, scooting to the side with a small nod. The two of you sit in silence, looking at the painting, before he suddenly speaks up.

“It’s amazingly intricate, isn’t it,” he says, voice deep.

“Oh, I guess,” You murmur.

He tilts his head, still staring at the painting. “I’m in awe of the technique. Don’t think I could replicate something that beautiful even if I tried.”

You hummed in agreement.

There was a moment of silence, and then he spoke up again, this time turning to look at you fully. “What do you think about it?”

“Oh, I’m not much of an art person,” You explained. “I’m actually just waiting for someone.”

The man narrows his eyes, nods his head for a few seconds, and then shoots you a blinding smile. “Are you a foreigner?”

You hesitate. “Yes?”

“Your Korean is very good.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“You know, foreigners usually learn a lot from sleeping with Korean men.”

He said the words so nonchalantly, so bluntly, that it took you of guard for a second. You couldn’t even find yourself getting angry or scandalized, because you were just so in shock that someone would even say something like that out loud. It was only then that you acknowledged how uncomfortable he was making you.

You grimaced, standing up. “Right. I think I’m just going to-“

“Yah, leaving so soon?” He says, grabbing your arm as you try to pass by.

The room was empty. There was nobody around, and there was a strange man grabbing you, and it took everything you had not scream. Maybe you should scream. Should you scream? Should you hit him? You began to panic, not sure what to do.

His grip tightened. “Hey, there’s no need to be afraid. I just want to talk.”

“Let go of me.”

You tried to sound authoritative, but you voice wavered. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and it felt like someone was squeezing it. You try to pull your arm away, but the sudden recoil of the action only has you falling towards the man. The second his other hand touches your hip, you jolt past your hesitation and slam straight into outrage.

“Let go of me!” You yell, pushing against his chest with all your might.

The action forces him to let go, and you stumble back. You’re tempted to run, and for a split second you almost do, but then the loud laugh of a kid gains the attention of the man.

Two kids run into the room, followed by a very anxious mother trying to get them to quiet down. The woman and kids seem to be part of a group, and the small room slowly starts to fill with people. You turn around to look for the man, but he’s already gone.

The kids laugh loudly again.

You rush towards the bathroom as you feel your eyes starting to sting with tears, anger making your body feel hot and fuzzy. It wasn’t until you were in the empty room that you realized your bag was vibrating. You pull out your phone, eyes widening at the 4 missed calls and dozen texts Chan had sent you. Before you can read any of them, he’s calling again.

“Are you okay?” Is the first thing he says the moment you answer.

“I’m okay,” You say instinctively, but then you pause. “I … actually, I don’t know if I am okay.”

“What happened. Where are you?”

“I’m still at the museum, I’m fine … physically. It’s- there was a guy, he said something gross, and he grabbed me. He’s gone now, but it just kind of freaked me out.”

You looked down to your arm, which felt strangely cold from the man’s touch. You felt slimy just thinking about his hands on you.

“Where are the boys?” Chan questioned, and you put him on speaker so you could wash your hands.

“I don’t know. I was waiting for them, and this creep just walked up to me.” You took a deep breath. “I think I’m okay. I just need a minute.”

“Take as long as you need sweetheart.”

You scrubbed your arm with soap in hopes of elevating the disgust, but the harder you scrubbed the more your skin began to sting, so you gave up. You dried off and took a second to just stare at the mirror. The anger was still there, so was the fear, but mostly you just felt tired. You shook your head, picking your phone back up.

“I think I’m good. I’m really sorry I freaked you out,” you told Chan.

“Don’t ever apologize for something that isn’t your fault.” He let out a sigh. “Are you sure the guy is gone?”

You peeked your head out of the bathroom. “Yeah, I don’t see him. I think he got spooked by the other people who showed up.”

Chan swore on the other end, in both Korean and English. “Do you think you can find Hyunjin or Felix?”

“Yeah, I’ll look for them. I’m sorry you had to feel that. I’m sure you’re busy.” You wandered back to the room you had just been in, but there was no sign of the boys. “I can call you back later.”

“I mean absolutely no offense to you sweetheart, but you must be out of your goddamn mind if you think I’m hanging up right now.”

You let out a small laugh. “Fair enough.”

It was comforting, knowing Chan was on the phone as you made your way around the museum. Even though you were sure you weren’t in any real danger, and the rooms you walked through were full of people, you knew deep down that you wouldn’t have felt as safe as you did now if Chan wasn’t there, even if it was just him breathing on the other end.

You finally spotted Hyunjin first, letting out a sigh of relief. “I found them.”

Hyunjin looked up with a smile as you ran up to him, but his smile quickly dropped when he saw your face. “Are you okay?”

“Let me talk to him,” Chan said, and you quickly handed over the phone.

Felix wandered over when he spotted the two of you. He noticed the tense atmosphere between the two of you, and he placed a hand on your arm in worry as Hyunjin’s face began to pull down in worry and anger.

“What’s going on?”

You licked your lips and took a deep breath. “Some guy grabbed me, I freaked out. Chan felt it.”

“Wait, some guy grabbed you?” Felix dropped his hand and looked you over in worry. He gently lifted your arm in shock, and you realized that there was a small red mark from where you had been grabbed. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

“It’s fine, I’m just pissed he got away.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Hyunjin said, and he quickly said something in Korean so fast you couldn’t even begin to understand. “Hyung, I’m calling the cops.”

“The hell you are,” you exclaimed, grabbing the phone out of his hand. “Are you insane?”

“This guy hurt you,” Hyunjin argued.

“That guy is a creep, I won’t argue with you on that, but he didn’t hurt me. He grabbed my arm a little tight, but I’ve been hurt worse by walking into a table.”

“He put his hands on you.” Felix said.

“And what do you plan on doing? Looking for him? Yelling at him? You don’t even know if he’s still here!”

“I’ll have the museum security find out who he is. I’ll track him down myself if I have to,” Hyunjin said.

“Right sure, I can see the headlines now. Stray Kids Hyunjin arrested for attacking a man who was a creep to his soulmate.” You smacked his shoulder. “What happened to keeping a low profile?”

Felix grabbed your hand. “Baby, this guy should have never touched you. What he did was not okay-“

“I know. Believe me, I know.” You interrupted. “But he’s gone now. And I’m not going to let you guys expose yourselves just to … defend my honor. He didn’t do anything that would warrant more than a slap on the wrist. It’s not worth it.”

You could tell neither one was satisfied, but something on your face must have convinced them, because they quickly conceded. You only then remembered you were still on a call with Chan, and you quickly brought the phone back up to your face and asked if he was still there.

“I’m still here,” Chan said softly.

“You get all that?”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

“I’m hanging up on you now.”

“Please, be safe.”

You smiled. “I will.”

The words ‘I love you’ burned on the tip of your tongue, begging to be released, but you swallowed them down.

It didn’t feel right.

Not yet.

-0-0-

Even though you tried to encourage the boys to finish the exhibit, they unanimously agreed to cut the date short, and you were secretly relieved. You held Hyunjin’s hand tight as you walked past the security guards, knowing he would be tempted despite your agreement, and managed to make your way out into the warm afternoon sun without any issues.

You were relieved that the boys hadn’t been recognized yet.

“You want to go home?” Felix asked, and you thought about it for a second.

Now that you were out of the museum and breathing in fresh air, the idea of cutting the date short and ending it on such a bitter ending felt wrong. You shook your head.

“What do you want to do?” He asked.

You pursed your lips. “Are there any parks nearby?”

“Hmm, there’s one two blocks away,” Hyunjin said, already looking up the directions on his phone. Then he tilted his head. “If you’re willing to walk a little further, we’re not that far from the Han river.”

“Oh! I’ve always wanted to go to the Han river!”

“Then lets go,” Felix said, eyes crinkling.

You walked in between the two, holding hands with both of them and swinging them back and forth. You felt carefree, a nice change from the exhaustion you had felt earlier, and the wind blowing through your hair swept away all your worries. Even so, you could tell neither boy was completely over what had happened.

You pulled your hands together, forcing them to hold each other’s hands as you moved behind them, giving them a big smile. “You two look good together.”

Hyunjin snorted, wrapping his arm around Felix. “Maybe I’ll steal him all for myself.”

Not one to be outdone, Felix grabbed Hyunjin by the back of the neck. “Who says I won’t come willingly?”

Hyunjin jolted back at that, and the two of them started laughing. You raised an eyebrow, noticing the way their eyes darted to each other and then back to you. You patted Felix on the shoulder as you moved past them, skipping to the corner of the street.

“Come on lover boys. You two can flirt with each other later.”

The three of you continued your walk with less tension than before, the events of the museum only a blip of an otherwise nice day.

Well, relatively nice.

It was hot out, as summer was starting to get closer. The sun was shining bright, and by the time you guys found a nice spot near the river and under the shade, you were sweating. While it wasn’t unbearingly hot, Hyunjin’s offer to get ice cream was a blessing.

He told you he would back quickly, smooching your cheek messily as he left.

Felix decided to wait with you as the other dancer left, leaning back on his elbows and closing his eyes to enjoy the cool breeze. There were kids playing and laughing, couples walking at the riverside, and even dogs running in the grass. It was peaceful.

“I hate it, you know,” Felix said.

You tilted your head in confusion. “What?”

“Having to hide this.” He opened his eyes to look at you. “Not being able to be with you so publicly.”

You eyed his mask still on his face, pulled down only slightly below his nose. Any normal person would have taken it off by now, but even though Hyunjin had led you two towards a fairly secluded area, it was still too risky for his face to be seen in public.

Or rather, it was too risky for him to be seen in public with you.

You looked down. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Felix was quick to reassure you. “It’s what I signed up for when I decided to become an Idol.”

“You still deserve your privacy,” You muttered.

“Would you have done something if we weren’t idols?”

You didn’t have to ask him what he was talking about.

It was silent for a second, wind blowing through the trees above you. Leaves and flowers began to fall around the two of you, littering the grass between you. You grabbed a flower, twirling it around your fingers as you contemplated Felix’s words.

“Maybe.” At the way his face fell, you shifted closer. “Hey, I’m not saying that your idol status was the only reason I didn’t want to get the authorities involved. Like I said before, I doubt they would have been able to do anything more than chastise the guy anyways.”

Felix sighed. “It still doesn’t seem right.”

“It isn’t. But I’m okay, really.”

You reached over to hold his hand, and he gave it a tight squeeze. When he turned his head to look at you, you were already looking at him, the wind blowing hair around and blocking your view for a second. Felix’s eyes shifted to the side, and you turned to see what he was looking at, but you didn’t see anything. You turned back in time to see him pulling his mask down.

His lips were on yours for only a split second, but it was enough to make your face heat up. Felix pressed his forehead to yours, whispering against your lips.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You smiled, letting your lips press together again. “With you? Always.”

He didn’t say anything else after that. Hyunjin didn’t mention your close proximity when he returned, simply handing over your ice cream with soft eyes.

“Careful, it’s starting to melt,” he warned you, but it was too late. A glob of ice cream had slid off the cone and hit your fingers.

He gratefully handed you a napkin afterwards, and you laughed when his own ice cream began to melt onto his hand as well. Felix accepted his own ice cream more carefully, managing to keep his hands clean.

Without thinking too much about it, you licked the ice cream that had fallen onto your fingers before wiping the area with the napkin. You then licked around the cone edge to catch the melting ice cream drops and avoid more of a mess, finishing off with a proper taste of your actual ice cream cone. You looked up to catch both boys watching you with familiar looks.

You snapped your fingers at them, instinctively speaking in english. “Hey, mind out of the gutter. I don’t put out on the first date.”

Felix laughed at your statement, replying in korean. “Damn, there go my plans for the night.”

“Wait, what did you she say?”

The two of you laughed at the confused look on Hyunjin’s face.

Yeah. You were okay.

-0-0-

“Walking me to my door, like proper gentleman,” You teased.

Hyunjin grinned, slipping the ball cap he had used out on the streets and running his hands through his hair. “Maybe we’re just hoping for the end of the date kiss.”

“So I’ve been told,” You said, giving Felix a side eye. “You seem awfully sure of yourself.”

You turned to open your door, planning on teasing them a little bit more, but Hyunjin pressed himself up against you, leaning on his arms resting above you. You turned back to face him properly, flicking his nose.

“Did you need something?”

He puckered his lips in response, and you laughed. You conceded, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. His own hands dropped down to your waist, his touch warm and comforting as he kissed you softly and slowly. When he pulled away, you were surprised to see him looking almost sad, and you watched his eyes flicker down to your arm where the man had grabbed you.

While it wasn’t noticeable to anyone who didn’t know better, the skin was red and irritated. There was a chance it might bruise slightly.

You tucked your finger under Hyunjin’s chin and lifted his face so you could look into his eyes. “Hey, forget about it. Forget about him.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he said.

“It wasn’t your fault,” You assured him. “Don’t let the actions of one horrible man ruin our perfect date.”

“Perfect, huh?”

“Ahh, don’t let it go to your head,” You droned, pressing another kiss to his lips.

To both of your surprise, the moment Hyunjin pulled away Felix was there, pushing you back against the door and kissing you so hard it made you see stars. He practically devoured you, your breath stolen and lips tingling when he finally pulled away. His eyes were dilated, mouth red and slick with saliva that he licked away, cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asked you, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“What happened to taking it slow?”

“Screw slow.”

Later that night, as you were getting ready for bed, Hyunjin sent a message to the group chat. It was a picture of you and Felix kissing at your front door, and he sent another message after.

‘Nothing in that museum compares to seeing these two together. This is real art.’

[oh-shtars]

@cocoapowderpictures @signed-sapphire @ficsinhistory (+ others)

Guys, Wake Up!! It’s the ref sheet for the guy you were all happy to see mentioned in the last post ;3

Character Notes:

- Works as the Royal Announcer and as Rosas’ tour guide

- He’s of Greek heritage :)

- I decided to make red and black his key colours to symbolise his boldness and how he’s a secret rebel in plain sight.

- In the RFTS!AU, everyone above 18 has given away their first wish and afterwards, as many as they’d like. Flazino is 21 and like many others, has no idea what were or even how many wishes he did give away.

- Does he love Asha? Yes. Very much. Romantically? Nope. Are they just friends? Yes but also no.

- Acts like a very bouncy and outgoing guy on the job but is actually pretty reserved and calmer whenever he’s just being himself and casual. As a result, he gets exhausted for forcing himself to be extra ‘quirky’ while working.

- The reason he’s so “extra” on his tours is because he wants to make the most out of the only few highlights of his day. Flazino dreads the in-between moments where it just feels like he’s just….waiting. But for what exactly? With no memory of his wishes, he doesn’t have anything to look forward to the next day. Anything that could motivate him. Something that he could pursue. But there’s…nothing. (He hates staring at the ceiling thinking about this every night.)

- One of the only few dreams he does have is his love for learning/using magic. And Flazino is not planning to give that away this time. And thus, he hangs on to it tightly despite the fact its use is forbidden.

- Flazino gets little sleep in most some nights to read and learn about small-scale, simple magic-casting. (It’s the only time he could with minimal risk of getting caught.) It’s a way better thing than spending the night in dreadful emptiness and it’s a distraction from his otherwise, mostly bland day.

- Flazino also notices that he’s not the only person experiencing this weird emptiness. He just seems to be the only one who acknowledges it instead of pretending it’s “fine.” After a few years of waiting for his wishes that are probably never coming, Flazino attempts to negotiate with Magnifico for a “better Wish System” but he always ends up getting ignored though.

- Flazi sort of isolated himself in a way because he couldn’t stand the fake satisfied faces people are going with their lives. He was so damn happy to find out Asha has her own doubts of the king’s wishing system too. He basically stuck around after that.

Flazino: “I swear- I canNOT continue like this anymore. There’s something unfair about all this and I’m SICK of pretending there isn’t just because everyone says so- I don’t sound that crazy, right?”

Asha: ……………. Uhhhhhh No? I get it. Sort of??

Don’t you wanna get away? From the same old part you gotta play?

‘Cause I got what you need, so come with me and take the ride,

It’ll take you to the Other Side!

‘Cause you can do like you do, Or you can do like me,

Stay in the cage, or you’ll finally take the key,

Oh damn, suddenly you’re free to fly,

It’ll take you to the Other Side!

(Can’t resist another “The Other Side” opportunity. It’s one of my favourite catchy songs and it fits well. X3)

[seakicker]

MS JUJU omg, just Childe casually going “dude you don’t remember? That’s the chick who we fucked stupid and spit roasted in college” and Diluc going “ah.” You’re so big brained, driving me crazy

i guarantee childe would make some comment about how women, just like wine, only get better with age before looking to diluc for further support— maybe the latter would be able to comment on the validity of childe’s statement if he weren’t currently occupied simultaneously reliving that night in college over 25 years ago and processing the fact that you’re standing here right in front of him. of course you were sexy then in your tiny little club dress your sorority friend surely picked out for you and your hair styled a way neither of them had seen on you before, but the you that stands before childe and diluc right here, right now with an additional 25 years of life under her belt? maybe childe actually knows what he’s talking about for once when he says soft, mature women are a lot more beautiful than flustered and inexperienced college girls.

neither of them have seen you in the 25 years following that drunken one-night stand, but now they both wish they had kept up with you at least a little since graduation and the subsequent emergence into the workforce. your soft body and widened hips certainly suggest you’ve had children and created a family of your own, but the absence of a ring on your left hand makes them wonder if a husband is in the picture at all— not that it would make a difference to the three of you. diluc’s the most likely to have reservations about fucking a married woman, but childe wouldn’t miss a beat in pointing out that you being taken certainly didn’t stop the two of them 25 years ago. hell, given the opportunity, the two of them probably would have fucked you right in front of whatever boyfriend you had then and they’d certainly do it in front of whatever boyfriend or husband you have now. you deserve real men (emphasis on the plural ‘men’— don’t gorgeous MILFs like you deserve to get spoiled by multiple cocks at once?), they figure, and any guy who’d let you run off to a bar alone like this clearly doesn’t seem to mind sharing. childe and diluc are exceptional at sharing, so it all works out, doesn’t it?

[brittle-doughie]

What If: In Your Name

About time I tried one of these Baker or Creator type of deals

You were bringing new cookies to your kingdom by the day. Just bring them into the world and then…allow them to do whatever they wished. You had no wishes to eat them, it was just a hobby to create whatever cookies you can and let them spend their days peacefully in your kingdom.

Who’d knew that by doing that, you’d have essentially a religion being made out of bakers like you. Every visit to this place belonging to the group, the St. Pastry Order, has had these cookies waiting for you. Being a human, you towered over the little cookies, requiring an elevated spot around your waist area to be created.

Every visit was went as usual, you’d emerge before them, then one of these cookies would approach you…

before crumbling a part of their bodies to offer to you, wishing that they’re delectable enough to have the whole piece be eaten entirely.

The Order member would watch you in anticipation as you brought the piece to your mouth and would shiver as you bit into it. Witches did they wish they could offer more to you…

Reverend Mother Cookie would be quick to remind the other members that having their pieces be accepted and eaten was an honor of the highest regard, an honor you never should take for granted.

These offerings were their biggest way of showing their appreciation for you and want to appease you in any way possible. The slightest refusal or hesitation will greatly offend the Reverend Mother and other members of the Order, but fortunately they never had a cookie hesitate at the opportunity

In fact, everyone seemed almost eager to be the cookie chosen to feed you, to nourish you with themselves. If they didn’t learn the means of self-control, they’d likely be shoving the offering to your hand and plead for you to eat it.

Err…you didn’t want to be rude and reject the offerings, so you reluctantly ate the pieces of the cookie given to you as you could see the offerer’s face brighten up at the notion you enjoyed their flavor.

What you say goes. What you say and your opinions matter more above all else. Objections were, of course, met with scrutiny.

Slander and the questioning of your righteousness was met with immediate hostility from Reverend and the Order members. They could send certain cookies to help straighten out the nonbelievers. If it wasn’t the Reverend Mother, then Shadow Sister Cookie was carrying out your will.

Reverend Mother Cookie was the only cookie among the rest that had the means to guarantee that you’ll visit the cathedral and she would invite you to return back once the offerings were over.

She wanted to personally display her levels of devotion by cracking off whole limbs like an arm to offer to you. For you see, the cookies who are giving offerings are not allowed to offer more then the Reverend Mother does. Nobody will ever surpass the devotion she has for you. Her Beloved Baker

[madam-whim]

The Gold Road Reveal and my thoughts on it

I’m gonna start this off by saying I love ESO. I have been playing since 2017 and I’m pretty much doing everything the game has to offer. Quests, dungeons, trials, antiquities, sometimes PvP. That being said, this post will include lots of criticism that I feel (or know) is shared by many other fans.

But first things first, let me start off by listing some of the things on yesterday’s stream that had me bouncing in my seat:

The new zone is absolutely stunning! There’s a lot of variety to it and it does look very pretty. Exploring it will undoubtedly be fun and a feast for my eyes.

Also, Fennorian will be there, so I know there will at least be one well-written character that my Vestige has an actual bond with.

The scribing system being more of a roleplay thing – I don’t know what some people were hoping for, but I’m glad it’s not some Big Damage For Those Who Are Good At Maths kind of system. It still allows for a more unique playstyle, and I suppose it’s going to turn out like always: Do whatever you want in open world spaces, but keep your bow backflip heal out of veteran content.

And maybe the biggest “Yes!” moment of the evening: Ed Stark being the zone lead for Gold Road. While I did not like High Isle as much (too predictable for my taste, but at least it had recurring characters), he was responsible for Greymoor and Murkmire as well. I thought Greymoor was fantastic (good quests, excellent new characters alongside very familiar recurring ones), and Murkmire… well, I think Murkmire suffers greatly from being “the DLC that came after the Daedric Triad” so to speak. It kind of fell into the void created by a storyline spanning a full year (or even more, if you count the setup for the whole thing, which really began with the Varen’s ghost and Darien’s letter in Wrothgar and the Gold Coast sweetroll killer quests). I think that’s why lots of people don’t seem to like Murkmire very much despite it having great storytelling. My point is this: I do have some hope that after the fiasco some recent DLCs were story-wise, Ed Stark will at least make sure Gold Road makes sense.

And now for the criticism.

Ithelia’s design (Whenever, wherever, I want to kill Hermaeus…)

… yeah, about that. As one of my friends put it, she looks like Shakira with wings.

They really could have done so much better. The way she is now, as @akaviri-dovah said, she really just looks like a Meridia clone who somehow stole Jyggalag’s crystals, which is funny on so many levels (more on that later). Suffice it to say that I personally think the design choices are kind of lazy, given that we already have an angelic-looking Daedric lady.

Also, what’s with this picture? This kinda makes it seem as if she originally looked. Um. A lil different from the way she is now. In any case, I’m just gonna call this a missed opportunity for something more unique. I do like the glass shard aesthetic, I just wish they’d taken it in a different direction.

Dragon Break Princess Ithelia, or something like that

Now I know Dragon Breaks have to work differently from what Ithelia does, but I am kind of wondering what the consequences of her fate-altering abilities are. How do you alter fate in a way that threatens reality (with reality consisting of past and present events, with all possible versions of the future being possibly-real until one actually happens) without altering the timeline? Just by removing a possible future? Then one could argue that any Daedra could do the same just by manipulating people. Granted, it’s possible that Ithelia sees all possible futures and can do whatever she likes with them, but even then, she’d only be influencing what can become reality, not what already is. So how can she be THAT dangerous?

Right now, it just seems to me that they needed an adversary for Hermaeus Mora, and since his big things are knowledge, secrets and fate, and they couldn’t very well make a Daedric Prince of Anti-Intellectualism or a Daedric Prince of Snitching, she had to be a fate-altering type of Daedra.

At this point I’m still wondering how she even works, because how does she not accidentally cause Dragon Breaks? And if she is that damn powerful, how on earth did Mora alone manage to pretty much remove any trace of her? Which kind of brings me to my next point.

Memory Issues

I know, I know, Ithelia is not the first “new” Daedric Prince. (Which makes her stolen Jyggalag crystal vibes rather funny if you ask me.) And I don’t mind her being crazy powerful either, because so was Jyggalag or else he wouldn’t have been cursed. But that, to my knowledge, required several other Princes, whereas Ithelia apparently got owned by Hermaeus Mora alone, who then erased all memory of her. Which is not only quite the feat given how powerful she has to be, but also a very weird thing for Hermaeus Mora to do. I kinda thought stealing memories was more Meridia’s style. This entire part does not quite make sense to me yet and seems a little out of character, but well. By the way, speaking of Meridia…

Meridia-baiting the players

At this point, ZOS have to know we’re getting tired of waiting for villain Meridia. Everyone I know who is even the least bit interested in ESO’s storyline wants to see it. And I’ve seen people get their hopes up in recent days (new Meridia/Dawnbreaker-themed music box, the Ayleid ruin hint on the fragments sent to streamers…). Even in the twitch chat, there were people hyped about what they thought was Meridia, and who were disappointed when they were told it was Ithelia. And yes, I am absolutely saying they did this and made her a Meridia lookalike on purpose. But I’m well aware that we haven’t gotten any new hints about either Meridia or a certain someone since Greymoor, and that chapter will be four years old soon. Even I am beginning to give up, as much as I hate to say it.

By the way, I really did NOT appreciate Matt Firor name-dropping Darien right at the beginning. If you’re not planning to do anything with him, just let it go. I know absolutely nobody who appreciates being fed very tiny hints for two years and then being left in the dark for four years straight. If you don’t want to pick that storyline up again, just stuff the man into the Old Life quest and be done with it.

Honestly, once again, I’m gonna say this is a MASSIVE missed opportunity right here. ESO’s 10 year anniversary is coming up, what could possibly be better than to go back to the roots now and reward all those loyal players with the story they are waiting for? I distinctly recall Molag Bal telling me to watch my step around Meridia, and the setup is all there. I’m honestly disappointed that there is no Meridia content at all. And this ties in with my final point, albeit vaguely.

“Recurring” characters

Ah, yes, we do love recurring characters. Sometimes. We do love it when a fan favorite comes back – a character who’s accompanied the Vestige over the course of an entire story arc or has made multiple appearances over the years and has become beloved by many players, and, most importantly, who is well-written, i.e. has a unique personality. And that’s why “recurring characters” is not always a recipe for success when it comes to getting people hooked on a story.

It is when it’s one of the five companions, or a Ravenwatch member, or your main alliance buddy (Raz, Naryu and – oh, wait, yeah, us Covenant babies don’t have one anymore). It also works when it’s a character we’ve run across several times already, like Alchemy, who I know tons of people love, or my favorite walking disaster Revus Demnevanni.

But it’s certainly not working when it’s a character we barely know anything about, and who isn’t a hit with the community. Like Eveli’s brother whom I had to google because I could not remember who he was. He’s from a prologue quest. Nothing more. That’s not a “beloved returning character”.

ZOS have several of those just lying around, and they’re just not using them. And even the base game had so many characters that were there over the course of several zones, that were well-written and at least memorable to the degree that people would recognize them with just a little reminder, like Indaenir or Holgunn and Walks-in-Ash or the Vanos siblings. Hell, we haven't seen good old Vanus Galerion in a while. They are ten years old now and deserve to be dragged to the surface again.

Okay, I’m done now!

This concludes my rant (because that’s what it is, I’m aware). I just want to say again that this is not be dragging ESO through the mud, this is just me pointing out that the devs (especially the writers) could do so much better if they listened to their lore nerds and story-interested players more.

[beybaldes]

I’ve been thinking ‘bout you

summer sleepover masterlist

will kitman x gn!reader

summary : “buying your favorite books (esp. when they know nothing abt it but still buys it anyways because he knows how much you like them)” requested by anon

content warning : i made up the book plot so no spoilers for anything real

an : I love will kitman and I love books and I love the anon who requested this title is Frank ocean from Chanel Orange vine referencers rise up

“So I’ve read the whole thing, right? And I’ve got, like 2 pages left, and everything’s been resolved so I’m thinking; it’s just some filler for a conclusive ending, right? Wrong!”

You and Will were hiding away in the boot room. Thanks to the colder weather and couple of inches of snow that had covered the pitch, Ted had limited practice to inside today, which meant you and Will were practically redundant to the team today. Not that you were complaining. There was nowhere you’d rather be then cooped up with the cute kitman.

Will, ever the sweetheart, was happily listening to you rang about the book you’d been reading this week. He’d caught you reading it several times through out the week, asking for updates each time he saw you sneaking in a page or two and each time you’d very happily given him them. Beard and Roy were the only other people around the dog track that shared your love of reading, but the three of you had started a book club, so you’d lost the ability to discuss it with them until your bi-weekly lunch where you’d discuss ideas and pick out your next read.

“The last two pages basically undid the plot of the whole of the book and put them back at square one but with even less of an advantage then they did the first time.”

“Why would they do that? I thought they’d come up with a way to make sure the guy stayed dead?” Will was putting on a third wash for the teams kits in the two hours you’d been hiding in the boot room together; the whole room extra warm from the bumbling of the washing machine and the smell of the lavender detergent Will liked to use filling the room.

“Sounds like they’re trying to set up a second book, and I mean, obviously, I’m going to read it, I just wish they’d come up with a better way to set up a sequel - like, give them a new quest or something.”

As Will finished loading up the washing machine and setting it off, he took a seat next to you on the boot room bench, letting his hands fall into his lap where he fiddled with his fingers nervously. “So, you’ll probably be wanting that second book in the series, right?”

“Yeah, definitely.” You confirmed, running your fingers up and down the cover of the first book in the series. Even though the ending had pissed you off, you’d enjoyed it until then, and you weren’t going to let 2 bad pages ruin the 378 good ones. “I might try and convince Beard and Roy to read it next at book club later this week.”

“Well, regardless of if they want to read it or not, you definitely should.” Will leant away from you, appearing back at your side with a hand tucked awkwardly behind his back. Once he’d sat up straight again, he breathed in shakily, then pushed his hand in your general direction, the second book of the series in his palm. “I bet it’s good.”

“Will.” You cooed, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into a tight hug. Startled, he didn’t hug you back, but made the most of the opportunity and kept one arm around you when you pulled away. “You didn’t have to get me this.”

“I wanted to.” He shrugged, freezing once more when your head met his shoulder. “I really liked it this week when you were updating me on what happened in it. I was kind of hoping…. You’d do it with this one too?”

Will thought he was going to melt under the burning adoration of your gaze.

“You’re so cute.” If his cheeks hadn’t been burning bright red at the contact you were sharing, they would’ve been now. “Of course I can, I’d love to.”

With a gasp, you stood from the bench, moving closer to the corner of the boot room next to the washing machines, dragging Will with you by his hand. You didn’t let go when you took a seat, pulling him to sit in the corner so that you could lean against him, knees bent and book open against them.

“I can start right now, if you’d like?”

Will smiled softly, a hand instinctively coming up to brush your hair out of your eyes as you tilted your head back to look at him better. “Yeah, I’d love that.”

The two of you spent the rest of your day at the dog track getting a head start on your new book, only stopping when the two of you dozed off in each others arms, your calming voice sending Will to sleep and the warmth of him bringing you to sleep soon after.

[the-letterbox-archives]

file (1)ALL-56-0190: most likely to

i've been sent this one a lot, glad i finally got around to it! this is a 'most likely to' tag game, where you answer which of your characters is most likely to do a certain thing as per the prompt. everyone's in the ring for this one!

thank you @the-golden-comet, @drchenquill, @urnumber1star, @willtheweaver, @ominous-feychild,

@paeliae-occasionally, @moltenwrites, and @gioiaalbanoart for tagging me!!

(warning: very long post)

1) most likely to faint

laszlo is pretty-fainting-victorian-woman coded, so i’d have to say him. sorry, bud.

2) most likely to enjoy art

if we mean creating art, it’s sunny (i hc she does nature/animal drawings in her spare time), if we mean appreciating art, it’s yaromyr (because he’s a softie and loves a good painting).

3) most likely to hate sports

daphne all the way. she has faked many sicknesses to get out of pe.

4) most likely to freeze if faced with something scary

either sunny or laszlo in the canon of their stories, but overall i’d go with ven.

5) most likely to eat the last bite of something

eira, he’s always got to have the last piece.

6) most likely to start an argument

so many of them. faye, sunny, sissy, sinon, danareth, eira, austine, maybe laszlo, and dulcinea, to single out some of the worst offenders.

7) most likely to own a cat

ven is a cat person for sure, theophania as well, though more in spirit, since it’d be hard for her to take care of one.

8) most likely to swim across a large river/channel without getting fatigued

possibly faye could do it with enough adrenaline, but sinon could fly over it…

9) most likely to not be a morning person and hates getting woken up too early

THIS IS LITERALLY VEN’S EVERYDAY LIFE.

10) most likely to learn a subject a day before exams (and still nailing it)

darcy does it on the regular.

11) most likely to pick up a stray animal

faye, because she’s adopted many frogs, but darcy and laszlo would if given the opportunity.

12) most likely to fall for a prank

sissy’s entire life is a prank.

13) most likely to pull an accidental all-nighter

tie between daphne and dulcinea, they are not good at self care.

14) most likely to get stranded on an island and thrive

sinon, he could use the privacy.

15) most likely to get bullied by a random child

johnnie, but she deserves it.

16) most likely to win an athletic event

hnnngh, nobody?

17) most likely to become a con artist

theophania, although she doesn’t really want to (she often is, though).

18) most likely to get lost in their own home

danareth, for the sole fact that the miyokav castle is HUGE and he never quite got his head around all of it.

19) most likely to burn something while cooking

laszlo, faye, willow, and austine can’t cook to save a life.

20) most likely to stop a robbery if they see it taking place

nobody i think, it’s entirely likely that they’d all either think it’s a) not their place, b) the robber needed the money, c) think they couldn’t do anything or d) it’d be funnier if it happened.

21) most likely to not tell people they’re sick until they really need the help

laszlo and sunny in canon, willow, alastair, and theophania by virtue of their personalities, and ven (without meaning to).

22) most likely to crush on their villain/enemy

sasha (it’s the stockholm syndrome).

23) most likely to skip breakfast

all of the teenagers.

24) most likely to have a niche obsession

danareth and yaromyr, also alastair!

25) most likely to steal what they need on moment

all the dumaresq kids.

26) most likely to start a fight

sissy and sinon whenever the other is in the same room as them.

27) most likely to do something that they’re gonna regret later

*side eyes all the protagonists*

28) most likely to arrive ridiculously early

sinon and laszlo, those meticulous mfs.

29) most likely to be in a relationship for less than a week

daphne WISHES!

30) most likely to secretly be really good at music, but just not tell anyone

lady, but mostly because she has no one to tell.

leaving this one an open tag, feel free to use the prompts i was given or make up your own!

tag list for the sillies: (avoiding double tag but i may have missed some)

@wyked-ao3, @48lexr, @melpomene-grey, @thecrazyalchemist, @thecomfywriter,

@.moltenwrites, @yourpenpaldee, @glassfrogforest, @.the-golden-comet, @.gioiaalbanoart,

@.paeliae-occasionally, @.ominous-feychild, @.drchenquill, @tc-doherty, @corinneglass

[idontknowreallywhy]

Resurface 30 - Reposition

Story so far

I was going to post a WIP but realised that the next chapter had got so long I may as well cut it and post in two or three parts, the first of which is here. Do they actually get to the point yet? No. No they do not. But they are thinking about it.

Also - please do not treat my all-advised and much-mangled metaphor as legitimate advice on how to save someone from a rip. I’m a seaside girl so feel compelled to say - DO NOT DIVE INTO RIP CURRENTS PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙

There were a lot of hugs over the next couple of days. Pretty much wherever Virgil chose to sit he’d find himself sharing the chair, or at least the elbow room, with at least one family member. Usually more. During waking hours they moved around the villa like iron filings trailing a magnet.

The filings weren’t generic in their behaviour of course. Alan favoured a hand hold and a continual commentary on whatever happened to be crossing his mind - Virgil encouraged this, still not entirely persuaded by his baby brother’s assurances that he now accepted nothing had been his fault. There was perhaps more of the eldest in the youngest than in any of the rest of them, yet Virgil didn’t have the same instinctive read on the younger man’s expression. He was more than content to keep him close until he could be sure.

John, by contrast was quiet, watchful and specialised in the almost undetectable shoulder nudge. His presence was most striking for its tangibility and yet again Virgil found himself wishing it didn’t always take something awful happening before he could enjoy it.

Gordon, unfussy, tended to cling to whatever part of Virgil was available and on one occasion had abandoned all pretence of cool and leapt on to his back to be transported around, limpet-like, until Virgil threatened him with Four’s sonic hull-scraper.

Kayo had become surprisingly obsessed with ruffling his excessively curly, unstyled hair at every opportunity. Except today she was pouting because in celebration of waking up with the last traces of meds almost entirely expunged from his system, Virgil had reached for his beloved pomade (the recipe for which he’d only slightly tweaked from the version his father had used) and finally tamed the floof so he could look as well as feel more like himself again.

Even Brains had been unusually present recently, having just transferred his hours of poring over technical specs on his tablet up a few thousand stairs. Which meant Virgil got to join in and they’d exchanged some useful ideas for modifications with Alan chipping in not unintelligently. Until the engineer started to ask Virgil’s thoughts on some upgrades to Shadow at which point a series of crashing noises from the kitchen area had spooked him and he’d darted for the stairs muttering something about time-sensitive testing. Gordon had snorted about how at least Scott might reduce the washing up carnage he always produced while on meal-prep if he smashed it all as he went along. Virgil chuckled but it felt a little hollow and his throat was dry.

Scott… well… Scott had taken on the brunt of the food prep duty and had thrown himself into it with his usual energy. It had not gone unnoticed that every single one of Virgil’s childhood favourites had appeared on the table at some point over the last week. A steady stream of cookies and pastries had also been emerging because “Virgil needed fuel for his recovery”. Given his freakish lack of activity Virgil wasn’t convinced he needed quite so much extra fuel but had had more than a little assistance in consuming them. Alan had enthusiastically proposed shutting down Tracy Industries altogether as they could make just as much profit with a bakery if only Scott would get his priorities right more often. The chef had been toasted heartily for the good fortune of avoiding Grandma’s genes.

John and Virgil had exchanged a glance, both remembering what the younger two did not - that on the occasions where the messages from the moon base, or from the Mars mission had dried up - their Mom had channelled her anxiety and helplessness into frantic baking sprees. The community cake sales were never so well stocked when Jeff was safely planetside.

When not engaged in destroying the kitchen, Scott had hovered as expected but he hovered at the edges of the pack. Encouraging smiles, chuckles in all the right places as affectionate banter flowed. He teased a little, he ticked the tinies off for their excesses and he argued with John about a mathematical theorem Virgil knew his normally fastidious brother had deliberately misquoted to get a rise out of the older man.

Unlike with Alan, Virgil was entirely immune to this particular facade - a lot was not right with his best friend. His voice was wrong, too steady, unnaturally even. He was constantly just out of reach which was utterly wrong for Scott who was the most tactile human he knew. The man even looked wrong for some reason Virgil couldn’t put his finger on.

Grandma had been keeping a weather eye from a distance, albeit usually in the same room, or perhaps one away. Virgil glanced up and caught her eye as she leaned on the balcony of the mezzanine. She’d smiled, initially, and then frowned a little, raised her eyebrows and looked deliberately towards Scott, who was currently entirely unnecessarily explaining to Alan why he needed to finish high school. The woman had never been one for the subtle hint.

His brother was lost at sea, caught in a rip tide and drifting from the safety of the beach and Virgil had the only life preserver. It was inevitable that the circumstances of his illness would have knocked his eldest brother off course and Virgil still didn’t know exactly what had happened. All the possible implications rushed and sucked menacingly just below the surface and he knew the only way to reach Scott in time would be to face his terror and dive into the current to find out for himself what it carried.

Yet he never seemed to be in quite the right position at quite the right moment to make the leap…

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

Sometimes the boys just needed dragging into the right places.

“I’ve taken the liberty of informing Casey that International Rescue is on hiatus for at least another seven days.”

Sally released Scott’s arm and insinuated herself between Virgil and the coffee machine - the one piece of kitchen equipment with which she held no beef.

“The GDF will cover what needs to be covered. EOS is monitoring and will let us know if that appears to be falling apart.”

Her eldest grandchild rolled his eyes and somehow his entire body followed.

“Give them a chance, Scott, they may surprise us yet. Tracy Industries is in the perfectly competent hands of your COO and all the regular SMT meetings are postponed for a month due to your sabbatical…”

“My… my what?”

“You heard.”

Scott stood, hands on hips and gaped like a fish while Virgil tried to surreptitiously cover his grin by resting an arm on the kitchen island and leaning on his hand. Sally struggled to keep a straight face as he misjudged and his elbow slipped off the edge.

“The regular maintenance schedule has been paused - Brains has pulled the guts out of Thunderbird One and spread them all over the hangar and Two is both wing- and engine-less so neither is going anywhere fast. I believe Shadow is next on his list…”

Sally found herself wishing she had a camera to catch the identikit expressions of horror on both the boys’ faces - the same one they thought she never saw when she announced she’d been baking.

“Gordon has taken John, Kayo and Alan diving off the new reef. There is nothing left you boys need to do other than have that conversation you’ve been avoiding.”

She placed two steaming mugs of coffee on the countertop, reached up her hands to effect simultaneous destruction on both immaculate hairstyles and left them to it.

💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙

Scott ran an anxious hand through his hair, trying but not quite succeeding to recover the precisely gelled arrangement and Virgil suddenly realised what had been bothering him about Scott’s appearance. Something HAD changed.

He peered at his brother’s hairline.

“You’ve dyed it!”

[theemporium]

i understand why williams did what they did, but the how behind why they are where they are does not make sense. yes, alex performs better than logan, BUT it was logan’s first year and he’s been doing better this season so far considering everything. he doesn’t deserve to be pulled from this weekend when it was alex who made a mistake. logan was doing just fine. i’m so annoyed, but i get that they think alex will give them a better chance at sliding into the points. i just wish they’d give logan a chance. he can’t prove himself if he doesn’t get the opportunity. i feel like haters will use this as an opportunity to show that williams doesn’t fully trust him and that he doesn’t deserve his seat. i’m so gutted

the more it continues, the more fucking livid I get😭the way it just shows that williams has no confidence in logan is just heartbreaking. alex made the mistake and alex should be punished for it. the way that logan has been matching up to alex’s pace this season shows he should be given the chance to have the whole team’s focus on him for once!!

also, it’s only the third race. the points battle should not be that intense. they have nothing to fight towards that can’t be fought in the next twenty races. it just makes no sense to me and it’s so fucking rude to logan who did nothing wrong.

truly, fuck williams for making this decision😒