#sorry this is a very unimportant point

[frankiebirds]

I see Reid not remembering Garcia's name in this flashback cited as a plot hole a lot, but it makes perfect sense to me. Reid specifically recalls everything he's seen/read, not everything he hears, and as Garcia is brand new to the team here, it's entirely plausible he's only ever heard her name. The fact that he doesn't have perfect recall of auditory information is even a bit of a plot point in 1x22, where he initially struggles to recall the Parliament of Fowls because it's only ever been read to him.

I think there is some inconsistency on how good Reid's auditory memory is, but usually when I see this moment cited as a plot hole it's because Reid has an eidetic memory—which is visual.

[turtleblogatlast]

Leo getting hit with a truth curse but instead of forcing him to admit to super sad or worrying things it’s things like “it was me who broke the remote” “I saw Mikey prank Donnie and helped hide it because it’s way funnier if he didn’t know who it was” “I rip my clothes to look more like Raph’s because he’s really cool” “my stripes aren’t even red they’re pink!”

[sanguinaryrot]

by the way. im making a lego set but i had to pause to say. Clarice failed in its basic fucking thesis statement. you can tell the creators wanted to uplift minority voices; opposing sexism racism and transphobia are some of the basic themes of the show and we saw them explicitly say shit like we want to address problems like transphobia in the original movie. but we saw them take a minor cishet white male character whose one characteristic was that he was a sexist and they elevated him to a charismatic hero. like. do you fucking hear yourselves. I don’t have a problem with cishet white male characters in general but when you see a perfectly good secondary antagonist already established in the text and decide actually “he’s one of the good ones don’t worry about it” it really fucking shatters any illusion that you give a shit.

[rationaliity]

progression | aventurine blurb

loving aventurine was as easy as breathing to you, something incredibly hard for him to grasp. he didn't get it at all. when he first walked into your life, he had this arrogant mask up, another one of his well preserved fabrications to protect himself. he was snarky to you. not necessarily rude, but he wasn't afraid to bare his fangs and show you that he was capable of hurting you if he needed to. he wasn't afraid of hurting anyone. another gamble he was putting his faith in, that he wouldn't be put in a situation where he would have to hurt you.

you loved him during that stage. every sarcastic 'friend' he tacked on to every sentence like it was more of an insult than anything else, every boundary that he crossed of yours, every little lie he spun to keep you at arms length, trying to protect you from his teeth. words hurt less than his bite. and yet, you were there for him even when he was sure he would have pushed you away, and it unnerved him.

" aventurine ~ " you called out from behind him to get his attention, before lightly jogging up to him, standing by his side. not in front of him, but beside him. " i know you might be busy today with business as usual, but i was hoping that you were free this afternoon ? there's this new coffee shop that opened up, and i though- "

" coffee ? sorry to disappoint you, friend, but i am busy this afternoon, " he shook his head, as if dismissing the idea outright entirely.

" oh, that's okay ! i'm still able to say hi right now while we're walking, so that's enough, " you chirped, but he could hear the unmistakable sound of disappointment and sadness in your tone, making the guilt inside of him at being the one who caused your unhappiness eat him alive. but the look on his face didn't change, his walls too big to penetrate.

he did find you at that coffee shop, though. " oh, hello, friend- " he had called out, approaching your table, sitting next to you without even asking. he saw your eyes light up, and for a second he felt the warmth in his chest burst forward, his heart beating against his ribcage. " what good fortune that i was able to finish my tasks a little while ago. i didn't think you would actually come here alone. " there was a hint of confusion in his voice, but it was masked just as quickly as it came.

after this interaction, aventurine got a little awkward with you. what was he expected to say ? what did he do if he wasn't trying to push you away ? he was clumsy with his words, often just silently nodding along as you talked, and sometimes bringing up tiny points. he wasn't good at conversation when it wasn't to serve an agenda. being in survival mode his entire life, he had no idea how to be social, much less to someone as kind as you.

no matter how much he stumbled and fell over his own words, you treated him the same. he approached you cautiously, as if he was afraid that one day you would get sick of him and throw him out of your life permanently. was his personality too much for you to handle ? was he doing something wrong ? he wasn't sure, this was uncharted territory for him. all he could do was throw his dice and hope for the best outcome, something that was so comforting now unnerving. he could bet every single one of his chips, every possession he owned, including his own life, but you ? betting on you felt like one risk he wasn't willing to take.

" hey- i was at this shop a while ago, and i was hoping that you'd want to visit ? with me, of course, " aventurine asked, trying very hard not to look how pretty you looked right now, how your smile made his heart flutter every single time without fail. " i saw something i thought you might like. i wanted to get it for you but i don't know your size. "

" oh ? yeah, i'd love to go with you ! " you agreed immediately, as if everything that you were doing before this was suddenly unimportant. " but you really don't have to pay for me, honestly. i can take care of myself. "

this through him for a loop, and he hid it well, but aventurine had no idea what that meant. did you not want him to pay for you ? or were you just trying to be modest ? it wasn't like he was hungry for money, it was fine on his pockets, and he didn't mind spending if it meant spending on you, of course. besides, what did you want from accompanying him if it wasn't to buy things ? that's what friends were for, right ? it was a mutual beneficial agreement between two people to be friendly with each other to gain something from another, right ?

he was pretty sure that was how it was to be friends, but you challenged all of that. especially when you bought him a drink from a shop. he'd just mentioned it offhanded that he could go for some boba tea, and you had agreed, saying that it would be really good right now. and then you bought him his ? that's not how that was supposed to work, he was sure of it. why would you go out of your way to pay for something for him that you yourself wouldn't even get to enjoy ? he was willing to buy you things to keep you around him, but you didn't need to buy him anything to keep him around.

the possibility that you didn't want anything from him other than his time and himself was confusion, but refreshing.

eventually late night outs became late nights inside, and aventurine found himself in a precarious position, on your couch, your body on the other side, cuddling up against a pillow. the intimacy of the situation felt like it was choking him. and he finally got the courage to ask you the question that plagued him - why ? why did you care ? why did you try so hard ? what was in it for you ? putting your bets on him was a foolish decision that he couldn't rationalize. even he didn't bet on himself.

" because you're worth it, " you shrugged a little, the answer's simplicity wiping everything from him. all of his fears, his confusion, his doubts, just for this moment. right now, he understood. you never pushed him out of his comfort zone, and let your companionship evolve naturally. he didn't even realize he had let you inside of his shell before it was too late. " because you deserve it. "

he thought you were worth it, too. trusting you, putting his faith in you even though you had the ability to hurt him. it was worth it. you were worth it.

[sharonccrter]

I saw this really interesting video, which talked about my two biggest gripes with challengers' discourse. Which are that everyone keeps saying Art is the heart of this movie, and secondly, the insistence that Patrick doesn't love Tashi, only Art. The creator pushes back against these two narratives, and I wholeheartedly agree. Patrick is arguably the heart of this movie.

Two of the most important scenes in the movie are the churro scene and the scene between p/t out in the storm, and they both centre around Patrick.

The entire movie is about passion and purpose in life, and Patrick is the passion.

I mean, a lot of people assume Patrick didn't really have feelings for Tashi, but the only person who says that is Art. Who is vying for Tashi and is his biggest competitor. The reason I empathise with Patrick is that he is genuine and loving to Art; he does love him. However, we are shown no evidence to suggest that Patrick is this shitty boyfriend, apart from what Art says when he's trying to get into Tashi's head because his jealous. We find out that they're talking every week while he's on tour (normal relationship shit). It's Art who insinuates that Patrick is cheating while on tour. The only person in this movie who says Patrick doesn't love Tashi is Art, and it's obviously very intentional.

I think the reason both Tashi and Art push Patrick out of their lives is because he forces them to comfort parts of themselves they are not yet comfortable with. I mean, it's obvious why Tashi would react that way to Patrick; she's just lost the most important thing in her life. However, I think it's tragic from Patrick's point of view as well. I mean, what did Patrick really do? He got into a fight with his girlfriend because she hurt his feelings.

And no, he's hurt was not about Art. The fight made him feel unimportant, which made him feel like she didn't actually care about him. And that's where Art comes in, because who was going around telling Patrick Tashi didn't give a shit? You bet ya. Art. Art absolutely got into his head. And even if he clocked it, in that moment, he still allowed it to get to him because he was emotional and upset. And because he was too hurt to support her, he was thrown out of Tashi and Art's lives.

And here's the thing, Patrick never saw Tashi as an idea. He saw her as a real person, unlike Art kinda did. Patrick wasn't going to let Tashi treat him like shit just because she was special. And, tbh, if Tashi hadn't gotten injured, I think it's something she would have eventually been grateful for. But instead, she got hurt; she pushed Patrick away, and Art slid into his place, telling her that she could be his entire world and the star. That's not healthy, and sorry to stay a little manipulative.

And let's talk about Art. Patrick and him were literally fire and ice. They always had this underlying desire. They were perfect opposites. Let's face it: Art could never replicate what he had on the court (and off) with anyone else. But instead of confronting his feelings, he took the first chance he had to get Patrick out of his life.

The girl I was watching said it perfectly, "Art and Tashi allowed themselves to find consolation prizes in each other and allowed them to run from parts of themselves they didn't want to comfort and in turn enable each other's worst habits."

Art tries to become a tennis superstar so Tashi can live through him, and Tashi gives him a family so he can finally be confident in who he is. But is there any passion? I don't know; I think at some point, it drained; nothing about what I saw on screen apart from their initial get-together screams passion.

Cue Patrick walking back into their life and showing them how they can feel. Art was always going to let Tashi live through him, but that was never going to be satisfying for her. Tashi needs to find a way to create an identity for herself, separate from him. And I believe it'll be the only way she'll live a satisfying life. That's why they need Patrick: to make them realise that and to help them rediscover their passion.

I think people think that Art is the heart because Patrick admits to being a piece of shit. But the truth is, they're all dicks; Patrick was just the only one who was willing to admit it.

[comicaurora]

do you have any tips on writing soft magic systems? I only ever see them talked about when people are comparing it to hard magic systems or criticising it, which is a shame because I love systems where magic is just in the background being unimportant, with implied rules that will never be explained

god I wrote up like eight paragraphs of explanation and I was really working out some cool stuff there and then the app glitched and destroyed it all and I'm so upset

Unfortunately this reduces to a previous problem, which is "figure out how Tolkien did it and then do that."

Middle Earth is laden with magic. Hobbits being good at hiding is magic. There's a random throne in the ruins at the end of Fellowship that lets whoever sits in it see literally the entire world, and that's hella magic. Aragorn radiates One True King magic and occasionally heals people with a touch. Galadriel's mirror lets people see any point in time, past or future. Gandalf knows several spells, but most of the time he's doing less granular stuff by making lights or small fires or going all Servant Of The Secret Fire Wielder Of The Flame Of Anor etc etc. Elves are inherently so magical that the words of their language are never forgotten by anyone who hears them, the laws of physics don't apply to them, their havens are magically pleasant and beautiful, and the planet itself is magical for them - flat for the elves, round for everybody else.

The benefit of a soft magic system is that it produces a feeling in the characters and audience that the world is vast, wonderful and unknowable. It's at its best when it can answer why, but not how.

Why did the old empire of men have a throne that let you see the entire world? That makes sense! It's hugely tactically advantageous! HOW did they get the damn thing? No idea, doesn't matter, they clearly made it work somehow because the throne's right there. Why does Galadriel's mirror give you limited, randomized omniscience? Because while it's a useful tool if you can use it, seeing the future is a dicey and weird game, and the future can change if someone knows it's coming. HOW does riverwater in a birdbath do that? No idea.

Soft magic systems start running into difficulties when the writer needs to decide how it can or can't solve a given situation, which is a very common issue in storytelling, a format almost entirely centered on problems and solutions. For hard magic systems with clear parameters on what is and isn't possible, this is comparatively quite easy. The wizard can't magic this problem away because-

They're out of spell slots :(

They don't know a specific spell that can do that specific thing

There's another caster nearby stopping them

The object that lets them do magic isn't working

They need to speak words/do gestures/use materials to cast, and they can't for whatever reason

There's something "antimagic" around stopping them

Etc etc. The possibilities are easy to run through, because the "how" is clearly defined, and can be negated into a "how NOT." If magic uses spell slots, stop the characters using it by taking those slots away. If magic needs a material focus, break or destroy it. This prevents magic from feeling like an unsatisfying "a wizard did it" fix for all difficulties because the wizards can only do specific things under specific circumstances.

Soft magic systems can contrive answers to this too, but it can be a bit tricky to justify, and if it's Too Convenient it can feel like the magic system really just does what the writer needs it to do. When asked "why can't magic solve this problem?" soft magic systems can answer in several ways:

Too tired, sorry :( magic is Taxing and stuff so the caster can tip over whenever's convenient

They're in a Bad Vibes zone that's hindering their ability to cast because soft magic can be impeded by soft problems like "somebody was very mean here once"

That specific magic is tied to a specific location, like a magical elf forest, and doesn't work outside of it because it's intrinsic to the place and can't be replicated

There's another magical being around and their kung-fu is more powerful

These explanations work, but that's conditional on the story not making the audience think the magic SHOULD work in this situation, and this is entirely based on what's been established in the story thus far. If the wizard has been able to fly up until now, parking the gang at the bottom of the cliff and saying "sorry, fly machine broke" feels contrived. But if we've only ever seen other, intrinsically magical beings fly, the audience is unlikely to expect that the party's humble wizard will suddenly bust out a set of feathery wings as a gift from baby jesus himself. On the writing side, it's really a matter of feeling it out and making sure nothing feels too jarring - if the character who's previously displayed a certain specific space of abilities suddenly does something completely unrelated (like going from clairvoyance to slinging fireballs, or from a healing touch to earthbending) that feels inconsistent AND it teaches the audience that this soft magic system is softer than they realized, and can then make it much harder for the writer to then convince them that this caster CAN'T spontaneously manifest a power or gimmick that'll save them. But if the magical characters or objects operate within a specific space - one character that specializes in fire, one object that specializes in remote viewing, one artifact that lets its holder control the winds - then the audience will expect and accept things that fit in those broad, soft categories without speculating too much on the underlying "how" of their mechanics.

But the temptation to explain "how" is very strong for writers, and soft magic systems especially have trouble with this, because soft magic systems start calcifying into fragmentary hard systems when they're forced to explain "how". It locks in a hard-defined axiom that can be logically extrapolated. Because a soft system is not DESIGNED for that kind of internal logic, doing that will usually cause axiomatic collisions as they contradict one another. If a hard system is a crisp, geometric crystalline structure where any tangent line drawn through it will intersect cleanly with other lines in very predictable ways, adding "how"s to a soft magic system is like drawing tangent lines through a bowl of pudding - you're gonna get a lot of intersections in awkward places.

To pull an example out of absolutely nowhere, if a soft system without clear rules establishes something like "this spell can be used to summon an object towards the caster, but it DOES NOT WORK on living things", there are a number of questions that can become relevant:

Who made that spell to have those limitations?

Why can't WE make spells that DON'T have that limitation?

How is the spell defining "living things"? Would it work on a plant or a skeleton or a piercing in someone's body?

Why did you let this character use it on a living thing anyway, joanne?

In a lot of soft systems that try to lock in hard spell parameters, "who made these spells" and "why can't WE make spells" become the first and most obvious axiomatic clash. If magic can be created to do what the caster wants, why and how does that work, and why can't WE do it? This forces the writer to come up with an explanation to solve the clash without letting the protagonists make up whatever spells they want, therefore solving all plot problems forever - sometimes something like "the inventors of spells were intrinsically magical beings, like elves or dragons or whatever, and thus we ordinary scrub mortals can't make new ones." That's a functional explanation, but it reduces to a previous problem again - that this hard-ish magic system was created by someone with access to an unstructured soft system.

In a soft magic system, the only answer to the question "how does this magical thing work" is "because magic." If any other explanation is needed, things rapidly collapse into hard lines and axioms and covering for edge cases. How can elves run on powder snow, shoot targets in the dark and see for hundreds of miles? They're magical. Does that mean they can fly like a balrog or sling fire like gandalf or control weather like saruman maybe can? No, of course not, that's not their kind of magic and we have no reason to expect it from them. They're just magic. Magic means a lot of different things, and in a soft system the audience has to operate based on vibes rather than rules.

This can be difficult to balance. For instance, Star Wars has a soft system in The Force, and if you squint, every single movie and show uses it differently. It's not super disruptive to the audience's immersion because it's never framed like a Hard System with Hard Rules and it almost never pulls something out of COMPLETELY nowhere, but if you look at what it does from movie to movie and then show to show, it expands from "influence the wills of the weak-minded", "seeing the future a little bit" and "force choking" to "general telekinesis" and "limited telepathy" to "FUCKING LIGHTNING FROM THE HANDS MAN" which is a hell of a twist the first time you see it, to some even more buckwild stuff in the two different animated Clone Wars (like Mace Windu fighting an entire droid army Samurai Jack style and using the force to pull every bolt out of one of them at once, or the planet with the living incarnations of the Light and Dark Side) and the explanation never goes further than "The Force is magic, it's in everything, people who are good at The Force can use it to do a buncha stuff." It's not consistent, it doesn't have rules, but the audience accepts that Force users can just kind of do stuff that fits the Vibes of the stuff it's already been shown it can do. And as SOON as they tried to say "The Force is strong in people who have LOTS OF MIDICHLORIANS" everybody hated it, because it gave us a "how" answer to a question nobody wanted to ask and it made this pervasive, wonderous, soft magic system that Surrounds And Binds Us Luminous Beings Are We into "we are space wizards because we contain an above-average number of bugs."

As a chronic worldbuilder myself, I absolutely understand the impulse to explain and overexplain and lock in the Hows and the Whys, but as far as I can figure it, soft magic systems live and die on the writer's ability to restrain themselves from saying "how." The answer is "magic." The rest is just writing the story in such a way that "magic" doesn't become plot-breaking.

[packsvlog]

saw ur headcanon itch and wanted to scratch it

headcanons for new boyfriend gojo, toji or nanami?! 💞

damn im kinda in luv with u for sending this so quick, or whatever…

so, for new boyfriend i’m guessing recent relationship, right? cause i like the way you’re thinking, so let’s go.

ps: i try to make things normal, but i always create a plot, i’m so sorry (i’m not).

GOJO, TOJI & NANAMI AS NEW BOYFRIENDS. ⋆.˚

✶ 𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬: foul language / sexual innuendo on toji / reader has no gender.

✶ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k

──── ✎ ° ⋆ GOJO SATORU, the helpless fool in love.

First of all, Gojo as a new boyfriend is a different person than Gojo as a boyfriend of many years, for the simplest reason of he does not not how to be a one. He knows how to be a friend or best friend, not to be biased by my own ships (stsg) but I don’t think Gojo is the type of guy to fall for a stranger — he needs connection, thrives of being know.

Your relationship with Gojo as best friends is quite normal, he acts as a child, you scold him for it, and one day out of the loop of normalcy, he catches himself eager for your judgmental stare and scoff. And you also notice how his mischievous smirks and absolute terrible pranks are always on you. You are the one to notice his crush, so you flirt back.

Enters the shocked Satoru, because canonically he gets no bitches, even if he is gets a lot of attention (from middle school girls) and has a cocky personality.

Your first date started terrible. I’m so sorry to be the breaker of such news, but as said before, Gojo doesn’t know how to be a boyfriend. He thinks that everything in life can be easily scripted, not noticing that you, as his best friend, doesn’t need to be impressed.

So, Satoru keeps telling you about his grande missions (forgetting you were there, fighting as good as him) or funny jokes (that you helped him make). He gets nervous when you kindly point it out, but you’re sweet with him, grabbing his hands and taking control of the talk, him following your lead. It kinda becomes a little something in your relationship, when Gojo gets lost, you light his way.

Soon, his nervousness goes away and you’ll be back to having your best friend, that now kisses you from time to time (all the time).

──── ✎ ° ⋆ FUSHIGURO TOJI, the one who finally wins a bet.

Toji is the type to use dating apps and swipe right for the girls that pose with nice cars, or in trips all over the world — he wants to have a girl with money so he can gamble more, he is not a good boyfriend material, sorry.

But you are no dating app type of girl (sometimes you slip, but that’s unimportant). You’re just a hitman, that Toji catches talking with Shiu, he tries to hit on you, and you hit him, with your fist! It’s a match!

He is pissed off but not as much as he is intrigued. You have money, he knows that, but don’t get him wrong, your right hook send this man into a spiral of thoughts, he is already begging for you.

You know of Toji, his name spreads like wildfire in your line of job, he is a murderer and a bit crazy doing his work and way of spending his earning, but his looks outstanding him a lot. So, you make a bet, he stop gambling for a year, and you give him a chance.

You knew this was never going to happen, an addicted don’t stop so quick, and you barely see the guy. You think you are not an effort to be made.

Shocking the whole population and making gamble games loose a comically large quantity of money (he really will me missed), Toji keeps his word and now he is coming to make you pay for yours — a date is set!

As a new boyfriend, Toji needs to be reminded he is in a relationship. Sorry to say it, but it takes him four months to delete his dating app, he wasn’t using it, but it never clicked in him to do that. Toji also very much dates at home for the sole purpose of not leaving the room, you have to threaten him lots and lots for the guy to remember restaurants exists.

He sucks at first, but he is good at what he does with you, so you keep letting him get away with his slack of boyfriend duties, until you give him an ultimatum.

Now, remember that one year Toji kept himself busy with work and no gambling? You can say he has a large amount saved, and to shut your pretty ass up, he is spending with you — he takes you to Korea, buys whatever you set your eyes on, restaurants every day and bed bagging on the wall every night.

He is an asshole, but he can do a pretty job when his lovely partner threatens him.

──── ✎ ° ⋆ NANAMI KENTO, the one who fumbled first.

Nanami Kento is like the prize of life. Not to make a man the center of yours, but you can’t say you are not winning when this hunk of a male specimen who treats women with respect beyond the minimum is yours.

Women, men, everyone is fighting for him. You remember very well the eyes burning you whenever he was talking with you, specially Gojo’s six, prior dating.

Nanami is the set in stone exemple of how to be a perfect guy. But let’s make one thing clear, he did not liked you at first. Not because sometimes you can be weird like Satoru, is because he terribly wanted you, but he hates the idea of dying and you as well — both sorceress.

Contrary to popular belief and shocking a whole nation, Nanami Kento fucks up pre dating, ladies and gentleman. He shows up one day at job saying he is going on a date with a baker from his favorite shop.

You slip a few tears before moving out of the room. He sees them, and he hates himself for it. You both were almost dating, that’s why it hurts.

That night, while crying and eating ice cream and watching “How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days”, Nanami Kento knocks at your door, and soon as you open, he is kissing you. He never went to the date, he could never want anyone but you.

Your relationship, despite all of this, starts wonderfully. This man worships you, he makes sure you know how much he loves and care for you, there is no space for insecurities because he is filling everything with his love — you’re drowning in Nanami’s affection.

There is too many dates, too many flowers, too many trips. And this man does not work a lot, he hates to work, the clock hits his hour and he is out the door (curses get eliminated quickly). He is always coming home to you, no one can stop Nanami from falling into your arms.

As a punishment, he is forbidden from going to his favorite bakery — he doesn’t mind (he misses the onion bread so much).

[serena-babes]

Royal Knight Reader x Lucifer Morningstar + Charlie Morningstar

Part TWO!!

platonic! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

gender neutral!!

1.7k

Sorry for the long wait everybody! school really kicked my butt but I am back! and super excited to write! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

just wanna say rq that my requests are open! I will say though I can be a little picky but if you have something in mind I would love to hear it! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹

“And so then I look over and this bitch is halfway down the street!” Angel gestured enthusiastically to the rest of the large table continuous chatter continues from everybody, especially for Lucifer and Charlie. It has been a while since this has happened. 

Dinner was, nice. Maybe not the nicest dinner, food-wise. But “family” dinners aren't very common when you're always on the move or working. Listening to the laughter and plates clinking y/n looks down at their plate. Shiny fork in hand, clean warm plate. It's been a while since it's been like this, everything is so clean and shiny, a semblance of normal in this hellhole.

Too long they realize more like a couple of thousand years long, back when Lucifer was Samuel. It feels like a millennium ago, hell, at this point, it could be a millennium ago. 

Heaven was a lot stricter back then, everyone was made for a purpose and whoever stepped out of line posed a threat. That was why Y/n was the perfect example. And the reason they were assigned to keep a certain someone in line.

“But, heavenly father you must understand I don't.. I'm not made to work on something… with all due respect. Frivolous and unimportant.” Y/n said sternly adverting their gaze from the man himself. But even with their protests, they were still whisked away to take care of the “problem child” 

Messy, is how Y/n would describe it. A workshop with haphazardly thrown-around tools, discarded projects, various writings, and plans. And the messiest part, the Man himself. 

“Samuel” he introduced himself reluctantly 

“I'm not happy with this arrangement either I hope you know that. I don't wish to be a babysitter, even though you're older than me.” Y/n deadpanned, Samuel not amused by this remark went to whatever he was working on. Looking over his shoulder observing his work, not quite sure whatever the hell he was working on.

Y/n whistled out a long note making Samuels eye twitch. “Whatcha.. Watcha working on..” Y/n clasped their hands in front of them. Friendly unprofessional conversation wasn't their forte. 

“I thought you said you didn't want to babysit” Samuel mocked you 

“Well yeah, but that doesn't mean we both have to be COMPLETLY miserable” y/n quipped back “Trust me this will feel a little more like a babysitting shift if I just stand here and watch you…so?”  Y/n gestured to the various mechanical and clay pieces Samuel was arranging. 

Now, not so reluctant. Samuel shows them, and that's how it all started. He would share almost everything with Y/n and soon Y/n couldn't see what was so horrible and troublesome about him. He was sharp and witty but also, a dreamer, a chaser, and stubborn. 

Everything was peaceful for a while, days spent with Lucifer, well Samuel. tinkering away or writing while Y/n trained or did whatever their heart desired. Days spent in the sun streaming through the wide windows of the laboratory some days all they would do was lie on the floor and talk

“So… why do you follow that code, what's it called again? Chivalry? “ Samuel asked laying straight on his back wings outstretched gazing at the laboratory ceiling.

“Yeah... Chivalry.” Y/n responded opting to stop training and laying down next to Samuel feeling their bones and soul decompress from the strenuous work. 

“I'll remember that,” Samuel said cheekily flicking Y/N's shoulder plyfully. 

“Well, I would hope you would I mean it's kinda my whole schtick” retorted Y/n.

“Why do you follow it anywho? I mean… in the end, what's stopping you from... I don't know, not?” He turned to watch Y/N's expressions. 

“You shouldn't... You shouldn't be questioning the heavenly father Sammie. It's dangerous.” Y/n looked over to Lucifer, sometimes Y/n worried his thinking was the thing that would kill him. 

“But, if you want to know, it's because I'm scared, I'm scared of what would happen if I chose something else. you know, what would happen to me. I'm too used to the security it provides.” y/n said honestly opting to look at the ceiling instead of straight at Lucifer. What Y/n didn't know was the saddened knowing expression Lucifer had on.

He was always the odd one out, believing more in himself than in the “higher being” that was his father. If only people could see the fear they had of the man was... Wrong. 

“Hm… I understand” 

“I think that's what I like about you, you're not afraid.” Y/n smiled, grabbing his shoulder and giving it a quick shake.

And that's how life was for a while, truly all rainbow and sunshine. 

Wasent until Lucifer started going to Eden. Slowly but surely changes in Samuels now Lucifer's demeanor changed. And Y/n couldn't keep up. 

“Sam- Lucifer. What. are. You. doing. You're going to get yourself killed.” Y/n pleaded. Grasping his shoulders hoping to shock him back to reality. But all he did was stare at the floor in silence.

“She's just a woman Lucifer .” Y/n took their hands off his shoulders and he started drifting.

“No, she's not..” Lucifer said meekly turning away from Y/n no longer wishing to feel their sharp gaze. 

“Oh? So what are you telling me? That this” Y/n gestured to all the papers heavens sent over giving him warnings. “THIS. was all worth it because you found the love of your life. and that this is the woman for you?” 

“I don't know… she could be.”Finally, Lucifer turned to face them. 

Silence enveloped the room 

“I just… Were both fucked. Things are changing, and I don't. I don't know what's gonna happen.” Y/n sat down on a nearby chair their head in their hands pulling and scratching at their scalp.

Lucifer moved silently across the room moving to observe Y/n. 

It was odd he thought, on the outside, they were the epitome of resilience, class, and discipline. If one of them would be the scared one it sure as hell wouldn't be Y/n. but seeing a strong being such as Y/n clam up. Made Lucifer see them better, no longer was Y/n their “noble babysitter” or another Angel following orders. They were someone who had such complexity as him. 

“Hey… whatever happens, we um.” he eyed the various papers demanding his meeting with his father.

“We will do it together, they always say new beginnings are good… right?” 

And so, off to the races they went. Building disdain in heaven for the “heavenly father” advocating for more rights, changing life on earth. Creating people and new creations. Letting all ingenuity seep out of heaven's angels and onto the earth below, Showering the planet in green. Lucifer and Lilith fall in love. New ideologies are building, and new tempting offers are being given to heaven-curious Angels. 

But, going up against an actual god. You're doomed for failure eventually.

Always an Angel, never a god. 

If you told Y/n thousands of years before that they would be kicked out of heaven with two lovers in toe they would call you mad. Crazy even. Why would you say something so ridiculous?

“Hey! Y/n you looked a little zoned out over there you okay?” Charlie turned to you and asked 

“Yeah! Everything is pretty great right now. I was just thinking.” Y/n got up from the table and went to help Charlie with collecting dishes 

“Oh really? About what?” Charlie said collecting various plates and cups 

“Oh, just about how, proud I am, and how good the hotel is.” Y/n smiles warmly putting a hand on Charlie's shoulder and shaking it a little. “Oh… oh Charlie... Okay, well don't cry! You know I'm not good with TEA-” Y/n said suddenly being engulfed in a bone-crushing hug and a waterfall of salty tears.

After some time, Vaggie has to take a spatula to separate you two. Charlie's tears ceased, and now you three were lounging on the couch. Very reminiscent of what Y/n and Lucifer would do in their youth… They are so scarily similar sometimes, if Y/n squinted they swore they saw Lucifer. 

“When I was a kid I used to be like… SUPER scared of you for a little bit.” Charlie said smiling slightly and laughing to herself 

“Really-”

“Yes.” Charlie and Vaggie both said cutting Y/N's words off. But all Y/n can do is laugh. 

 “Am I that intimidating? Me? I haven't won a single game of Hellopoly in my life, or uno… or I guess any card or board game. I don't see how that's intimidating.” 

“You'd be surprised” Charlie quipped back a small smile gracing her features. 

The room fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments the only sound in the room being the ticking grandfather clock which Charlie eyed suspiciously.

“Hey.. so crazy idea, haha! But. I don't know, I mean you can say no! Of course! But I was just kinda wondering if you would… like to stay at the hotel? I mean protection isn't a bad thing. And it wouldn't interfere with like your actual job… but I don't know I feel like you feel better here, and I know dad feels better when you're here too.” 

Y/n listened to Charlie go on silencing her with her hand 

“That sounds great Charlie,” Y/n said softly getting up to put their now empty glass of wine away. 

As Y/n enters the kitchen, all they see is Lucifer's pajama-clad form rummaging around in the fridge. 

“Now what, are you up to? Didn't we eat like hmm..” Y/n puts their hand up to their chin mocking a thinking pose “like an hour ago?” they quip as they move to wash their empty wine glass. 

“Haha!” lucifer says sarcastically pulling something out to eat.

Soft chatter filters between the two, the kitchen light pretty dark the only luminary being the fridge and the oven light.

“So… guess who is the newest resident,” Y/n said staring expectantly at Lucifer

And they swear they have never seen such a bright smile grace his face.  

[icallhimjoey]

Can we have a sweet and soft Christmas eve with Joey? Just the two of us? pretty please

this was requested at the perfect time, so thank you, and merry christmas my sluts! Wordcount: 1.7K

---

Still Love Me?

"I'm sorry, I'm not crying because I'm upset, d-don't worry, I just..."

You don't get like this very often. Usually, trying to be extra affectionate makes you scrunch your nose up, makes you squirm and laugh and cringe. Makes you push him away, not taking the extra hugs and kisses seriously at all.

Joe doesn't mind.

"What's wrong?"

It's actually nice to not always feel the need to give you more. To not be afraid that maybe you'd be upset after not immediately coming over to hug and kiss you when he'd walk in at the end of the day.

But something's different tonight.

It's likely the holiday stress that's getting to you. Nothing a pair of extra affectionate warm embracing arms won't fix.

"I thought we had more cheese, but all we've got left is this..."

You suppress a sob.

Unsuccessfully.

Joe knows the tears are only there because all of everything has come together for the perfect storm, and you're just about ready to fall apart.

It's sort of cute that it's a lack of cheese that does it, and Joe's secretly glad it's not something that he'd done or said that got you. That it's not his fault, and that he doesn't have to apologise over something unimportant.

It's fine, though, the crying.

Joe had been ready for it.

He's got steady hands and is prepared to catch whatever needs catching. Knows how to put you back together just fine.

"Why did I do this? I've got to stop sneaking things, I– look, there's no... this is all we've got..."

You've got family coming over tomorrow, and it's the first year that your place is the spot for the big get together. It's nerve-racking in new ways you didn't know existed before because you're bringing both sets of parents in, and all you want to do is make the family proud.

Be the perfect daughter.

Have the stepmothers and stepdads get along as well as all of the divorced people. All of the siblings. Step-siblings.

Fuck, there's too many people coming over.

Could you still cancel, do you think?

You just... you just want Christmas be wholesome, and festive, and cosy, full of laughter and love and just... have it be perfect.

It's almost become a bit of a passion project, and it's quite literally driven you mad.

Well. Driven you to tears, at least.

Joe looks over and sees you hold a little block of brie cheese. It's not much, and it's got a bite taken out of it.

"Wait, did you–" Joe's already smiling, because what the fuck is he looking at right now? His girlfriend's got tears in her eyes and is stood in front of the opened fridge door, holding a bit of French cheese that has teeth marks in.

Surely, you are able to imagine what this looks like from his point of view.

It's at least a little funny.

But another sob wracks from your chest and all Joe can do is step closer and wrap arms around your shaking frame.

He's allowed to laugh as he does so.

"I didn't know- I thought we had more, b-but this was all we have, and I snuck a bite last night, because I– I was peckish and just wanted a little something, and–"

"Hey," Joe leans back and gets your face in both his hands. He's still smiling. Can't not smile, because this is ridiculous, but you also look very cute. Red nose. Fat tears stuck in your eyelashes. The colour of your eyes about ten times brighter because of the unshed ones.

"We'll serve 'em dry crackers, and they'll fucking take what they're given, all right?"

You pout and hold up the evidence of your late-night-snack-run in your own kitchen from the night before. It's right in between your faces and gives Joe a chance to really see the cause of the outburst.

"Still love me?"

Joe looks at the brie a second and then lurches forward with a growl, sinking teeth into the soft cheese for a bite of his own.

"Still love you." he replies, mouth full of cheese.

You can't help the choking laugh, head cocking to the side as a defeated soft chuckle leaves you. It only makes Joe want to grab hold of you tighter.

"Hmm," Joe hums, now chewing, and he frowns. "This is good. We should–" he can't finish the sentence without laughing, knowing it's likely the wrong thing to say, but he's already started the sentence. You get a good eyeful of the cheese in his mouth, in between his teeth. "We should get more of this."

Well, you can't.

Hence the crying.

You pout once more and then groan. It's so stupid, you're well aware. You just need a bit of sleep. Your family won't hate you because there's no cheese.

And if anything, you could throw it into the group chat and are sure that at least three people have some brie to bring along tomorrow.

You really are just very tired.

"Tell you what," Joe says, now taking the little piece of cheese from your fingers, one arm still around you. "We'll finish this, have some hot chocolate and just... relax. Watch a Christmas film. Tomorrow is tomorrow and tonight is tonight, you've done enough prepping and it'll all be fine–"

"Perfect." you correct.

It's important that everything will be perfect.

"It'll all be perfect." Joe coos, voice smooth like butter.

You sniff and look at him a moment. He's still chewing. Smiling. Joe's being all playful and it's reminding you of why you love him so much. Glancing into the living room, you know Joe's right. Everything's ready. Everything's done.

It's Christmas Eve.

"Calm before the storm." you sigh, patting Joe where you're holding onto him. Then lower down, quick touch to the bum. Joe easily lets you.

"Calm before the storm." he confirms before you let go of each other. You move to collect yourself, wiping fingers below your eyes, and Joe opens a cupboard to get to mugs out and says, "And I'll go get extra cheese tomorrow, it'll be fine."

You're about to protest. Tell him that the shop you usually go to won't be open. It'll be Christmas. And everyone's stocked up already. Shelves are empty all over. But Joe sees it across your face before you can say anything and adds, "I'll find some, don't worry about it."

And so you don't.

You accept a kiss to your temple, a deep inhale of your hair and you tilt your head for a kiss on the lips. A quiet thank you.

After a squeeze of your arm, Joe gets started on the hot chocolate and you decide to see if there's anything good on TV or if it'll be Netflix for the night.

Before you've been able to make a choice, you hear mugs being filled and you scurry back into the kitchen. You get to the fridge before Joe does, which was the plan. You find the can of squirty cream amongst all of the food and drink - your fridge has never been this full. It's almost triggeringly full; so much food, yet so little cheese.

It takes you too long, and Joe joins to look over your shoulder, to see if he can spot it before you do.

He doesn't.

You find it and giggle excitedly, a little delirious (you've gone mad, remember?) as you shake it with a wild arm. Your demeanor is the opposite of what it was minute earlier.

No tears. Just manic laughter.

Makes Joe laugh just the same. His girlfriend's gone insane and, if he's honest, he's kind of into it.

You spray some cream into both mugs that Joe's filled with hot chocolate, and before you place it back into the fridge, you shake the can again.

"You just said you should stop sneaking things," Joe isn't exactly trying to stop you, but he knows what you're about to do. Feels like it's worth saying something, to maybe prevent a further break down.

It's of no use, though.

His comment makes you glance him pointed a look. It's ridiculous of him to assume you'd been serious. Of course you're not going to stop sneaking things. He doesn't see the deadpan stare you give him because he's busy placing mini marshmallows onto your drinks, but despite the advice, you go for it anyway.

You tip your head back and spray some of the cream directly into your mouth.

"My God," Joe says when you let it go for a little too long, and when he looks, he barks a laugh.

You've overdone it.

It's too much.

Well, is it ever too much? Not really. But it doesn't fit into your mouth and thus there's a problem. This is going to be messy.

With your head still tilted back, you release a small sound of panic at the inability to close your mouth and raise a cupped hand, ready to catch whatever is going to spill.

But Joe knows just the perfect fix, and he's quick.

Before you know what's happening, your boyfriend's got his hand on the back of your neck, digging in strong fingers and guiding your head forward.

Just before whatever your lips can't curl around is about to slide down your chin, Joe's mouthing at it and manages to get it all, tongue licking and lips closing around your opened ones.

What follows is a weird, full-cheeked sticky, creamy, sugary kiss that has you giggling into each others mouths.

It's still messy, but you'd easily do this again. Would it be too obvious if you just went for an insane mouthful once more?

Joe pulls back, sees he's missed a bit and doesn't hesitate to lick at the corner of your mouth, making you shriek with your mouth closed, pushing him away.

"You're gross," you say fondly after swallowing.

He's also adorably sweet, but he doesn't need telling.

Joe lets his head bobble back a little as he silently laughs, wiping at his own mouth with the back of his hand, glad to have been of service.

"Yea? Still love me?"

Tomorrow's going to be fine.

There's no cheese but for the little chunk you're about to share. It'll likely be all gone if you both have a single cracker with some on.

And there probably also won't be any squirty cream left, what with your plan to bring the can over to the sofa for top-ups after you've eaten all of it off. Or, you know, after you've sprayed more of it into your mouth just so Joe can eat it out of there again.

You families can have hot chocolate without any, and Joe's right. They'll fucking take what they'll be given and be grateful.

Or, Joe can find some tomorrow.

Somewhere.

Whatever.

You're no longer fussed.

It's Christmas. Christmas Eve.

"Still love you." you beam, because you do.

You really, really do.

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @chrissymjstan, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[eluxcastar]

This is so silly: Fatui Harbingers receiving a bouquet of flowers from their shy s/o?

Harbingers receiving a gift from their s/o

── ୨୧：harbingers x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: it's exactly what's written on the tin but with a side of me being off my head again

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader

୨୧﹑words :: 950

I'm so in love with the requests that let me answer them like a crackhead. but also I'm so sorry to the anons who want me to be serious I've just got the sillies. I spent the entire time calling it a pot until I realised the thing I was actually referring to is a vase and had to go back and change it all

if you're wondering where the shy part went, it was lost to this phenomenon called "I can't read" and by the time I realised it said that I was already done. I feel like this is the second time it's happened.

Alright usual order Tartaglia first. I'll be honest; I have no clue. Like, I literally left his here just saying, "Alright usual order", because what the FUCK would he do. He doesn't seem like a flower person, but also it being his s/o changes that so much because his s/o might make him a flower person. You could guess his favourite colour is yellow and suddenly it's yellow because he's so normal for you. He didn't even like flowers, but omg, you got him flowers. These are his new favourite flowers ever kinda thing.

Next is Arlecchino (more food is coming I promise), and tbh, I feel like she'd enjoy receiving flowers. It's not an overly flashy gift, and it probably took a lot for you to go out of your way to get that for her, let alone give it to her. She appreciates that you would get her a gift at all because receiving gifts feels nice sometimes. You can have a kiss for your flowers.

Third would be Pantalone, whose I kinda answered. Flowers are a gift, and honestly, I love the idea that as long as the gifts have sentimental value, that's what he'll treasure the most. He's gonna display those in his nicest vase for people to see. Why would you be nervous about that? The thought of what people think of them? No need. Nobody critiques his decor and means it. They know better.

La Signora would appreciate them, but they gotta be nice, yk? And like, you've gotta pay attention. There's no point if you just get whatever's available. Does she like those kinds of flowers? Do they smell nice? Compliment their surroundings? It's in the details that say you care because, to her, it means you were paying enough attention to consider it for what is a very standard gift for many people.

I did Scara then realised I forgot Sandrone omg anyway flowers, she would love those in her own silly little way. They're nice, and it's so cute that you went to the effort that she might just smile at you. She's 100% gonna keep those to herself and just stare at them for a while because someone got her a gift (this basically never happens) (if it did who the fuck are they?? unimportant 🙄)

Aight we got Scaradouche. Firstly no way this man is going to let you immediately know you got him a gift he likes. Flowers? That's such a girly present to give someone 🙄🙄 (They'll be in a pot on his dresser within the hour). He wouldn't usually want flowers, but since you already went and got them, he'll just have to. Just a little, I think he'd be losing it on the inside, kinda like when someone says they're so normal about something, and you know they're fucking lying. Like that

I totally missed Pulcinella last time, so he can get some flowers now. Honestly, I can see why I forgot him. I probably intended to do him but didn't have an idea and was like, "I'll come back to it", then got hit with this thing called filthy liar syndrome. Old people like flowers so he'd be happy with that, something nice to add some colour to a room or something Idk I'm not old (I'M SORRY I'LL BE SERIOUS). Some of you have no grandfather OR father you just like me fr so I'll throw in for y'all that he'd be proud of you for picking out such a nice gift and acquiring it of your own accord (which you are capable of) because it must've been difficult to get past the initial conversation starter problem.

Already off that train, we're finally at Capitano. I can't say for sure cause he has two lines but tbh, he seems like he'd like it. You can have a nice pat on the head and everything cause aww you went to all that effort just for him? That deserves a nice cuddle ❤️

Columbina thinks of it like anything else you do, more confused as to what the occasion is than anything and not very sure what provoked you to do this, but she accepts it and thanks you nonetheless because she still does like it. She just also wants to know what you're doing and why, but she's satisfied with the answer that you just wanted to and cuts you off before the apologies if she doesn't like it.

What the fuck did you get Dottore flowers for?? Like, what would he do with them?? That's awkward. He'll take them off your hands, but after that, he kinda just 🧍 because what else does he do? He can look at them and sit them somewhere, but like they have no purpose. The effort is nice. He probably doesn't want these again tho unless he can use them for something. You'll get a thanks, but like he's kinda bad at hiding that he's got no idea what to do with it. Get him some flowers that are useful rather than decorative maybe?

We are at Pierro, and I think it's a bit of a mix. On the surface, he may seem like he doesn't want them and only accepts them to save your feelings but secretly treasures them ❤️ I like the idea of him being sentimental toward his s/o because something about it is just cute. It also matches the vibe, like, he's got a very closed-off exterior that you are used to that's meant to hide that adorable and undeniably vulnerable interior that really, really loves you and all of the things you do for him.

[hrtsvivis]

𝑺𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒖𝒔

lee felix x fem!reader

summary: felix ignores y/n due to a fight they had. Will this be the breaking point of their relationship or will they figure out everything

requested by: @arikazu

Felix had stormed out, and since returning, he had barely looked at you. His silent treatment was more painful than any words could have been. He was obviously ignoring you, which made you very sad. No words were spoken, only a few quick glares. The silence between them was deafening. Soon enough, hours turned into a whole day. No conversations. All of this was breaking your heart. Your chest felt tight with worry and hurt. It was like someone stabbed you in the heart. Your thoughts kept drifting back to Felix—his laughter, his warmth, the way he’d look at them with those deep, expressive eyes. But now those eyes were filled with coldness and distance. You thought about talking with him, but you were unsure how he would react and if he would even want to hear you out. You have never ever felt more alone.

Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall. The room was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the heated argument that had erupted just a few hours earlier. Everything seemed to be blurry due to the tears falling down her face. Felix's words still echoed in Y/N's mind, each one cutting deeper than the last. The fight had started over something unimportant, but it had quickly escalated into a storm of hurtful words and harsh truths.

Finally, the front door creaked open, and Felix walked in, his face set in a mask of indifference. He glanced at you for a second, then looked away, heading straight to the bedroom without a word. How long will this continue - you thought. The heartbreaking pain was even stronger after seeing him go away like that. You couldn't take this anymore so you decided to follow him.

“Felix" You began softly, standing at the doorway of the bedroom.

He didn’t turn around, just kept unpacking his bag. “What?”

“Can we talk?” Your voice wavered slightly.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Felix replied, his tone flat. He obviously didn't want to have this conversation.

You felt a very hurt but pushed through it. "We can't keep doing this. Ignoring each other won't solve anything. It will only make it worse."

Felix turned to face you, his eyes tired and sad. "What do you want me to say, Y/N? That I'm sorry? Because I am. But it doesn't change the fact that we keep having the same arguments. Over and over again. I don't know what to do to fix all this.

Tears welled up in your eyes, vision blurry. "I just want us to be okay. I miss you, Felix. I miss us. I really do."

Felix's expression softened, the anger dissipating. "I miss us too," he admitted, his voice breaking. He looked like he was about to cry.

You both stood there, staring at each other, weight of their words hanging between you. Finally, Felix stepped forward, pulling Y/N into his arms. She clung to him, relief washing over her.

"We need to communicate better," Felix said, his voice muffled against her hair. "I don't want to lose you, Y/N. But we can't keep going like this. We have to fix this. "

"I know," Y/N whispered. "We'll work on it. Together."

"Together" replied Felix kissing you on the top of your head.

It wouldn't be easy. They both knew that. But as they stood there, holding each other tightly, they realized that their love was worth fighting for. This wouldn't be the breaking point of their relationship. It would be the turning point, the moment they chose to face their problems head-on, together.

And in that embrace, they found hope. Hope for better future.

side note: really short but i honestly had no motivation writing this. Requests are still open so tell if you have

© hrtsvivis — do not steal, edit, or repost my works.

[lesbianphan]

I know this is gonna be mushy and overly emotional and I'm sorry for oversharing a bit, but I feel like it's necessary to put into words what rewatching We're All Doomed means to me personally. I watched the kiswe premiere event live and it was one of the most fun nights I've had in a while, even though my life felt extremely hopeless at the time.

And, look, here's the thing: when the WAD premiere dropped, I had completely given up on improving things. In fact, I was very much in the 'doomed' mentality. I had long accepted that there was no way my life would get better. So Dan's message really resonated with me: it's easy to settle for being at rock bottom and thinking that's all there is for me. I was happy to see Dan doing better, but deep down I didn't truly believe his words either, not really. I did want to, but I wasn't quite there. And I don't believe them all the time, as he himself said he doesn't, and doing the show many times hammers the point home into his head.

After experiencing it, I thought maybe, just maybe, I could stop only embracing the void, but start having the courage to exist as well. Putting myself out there more, trying to make a world for myself in which I'm not the :/ emoji all the time. So I applied for the jobs, I wrote what I wanted, I unapologetically embraced the nerdy things and the fandoms I enjoyed. I decided I can choose happiness in the smallest of ways, even when it sounds silly and unimportant. Because it isn't unimportant really if it means something to me.

Rewatching the show last night showed me how much it changed my life and the big leaps it helped me take in life. I have so much more to learn, but I keep telling myself to be brave (lmao sorry had to sneak the Phil reference) and have the courage to exist. Really truly exist out in the world, not hidden inside my room. And sure, some days are harder than the others, some days I really don't like myself at all. Even in those days, though, I tell myself: all I have to do is have the courage to exist.

I went in to watch WAD with no expectations, and I feel like the message of appreciating the little moments was so monumental, it truly absolutely had a huge impact in my own life. I have a job now, and some financial stability. To be honest, I never thought I'd get this job, I might not even have applied if I wasn't in this mindset. In so many ways, Dan and Phil have profoundly changed my life, and I think WAD is just one of those big examples.

I doubt the real humans Dan and Phil will ever understand the impact they've had on this world, but I'll forever wish them the best. I'll always support them, because their creations have irrevocably changed me as a person, and as much as I like joking around and stuff, I'm just thankful that we share this existence, and we get to have fun and be forever changed by it.

Thanks @danielhowell, you'll never know how huge the impact of this show was, but I am truly crying writing this and I hope one day I get to tell you in person how much you inspired me to keep going when no one else would.

[heretherebedork]

I was just reading your post about Way's betrayal and how that relates to the idea of family that Babe is building with Charlie. And I have a *lot* of feelings about Way's betrayal, and the fact that he consistently devalues Babe's ability to love *in general* because Babe won't/can't love him in the specific way he wants, even though Babe obviously adores him. And I feel like that must come through for Babe - not only that Way doesn't want him to love anyone romantically if it can't be him, and acts to make sure that he doesn't try - but also that his love in general isn't valuable if it doesn't take the specific shape Way wants. And then along comes Charlie, and says "Not only are you worthy of love, loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done and I'm prepared to devote my literal life to it." And then he steps that up and says "Not only is your romantic love valuable, but you have such obvious love in you that I think you would make a great parent, that you could be trusted and relied upon to love and nurture a child. And I would like to be involved in that personally." And for Way, his best friend, the person he trusts most, to turn around and take this thing he's only just started internalising about himself and betray it, to say that it would be fine for him to have these children they both know Tony is going to sell to the highest bidder just because it would make Tony stop chasing them? I don't have words. Just... thank god he'd made up with Charlie by that point because imagine him having to process that alone. Anyway, thank you for your excellent post and sorry for the flailing in your askbox. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this aspect of things.

I think part of what I find most fascinating is that Babe stayed in denial of Way's romantic love for him as long as possible including dismissing it as unimportant compared to their friendship even after he had to know what was going on.

And Babe having to face that Way not only manipulated him and controlled him in that final moment but the idea that he had been doing that all along? That Way had been telling him that love wasn't worthwhile because it wasn't the love Way wanted him to have?

Charlie really does give Babe everything he needs and wants, to be loved and to cared for and to be trusted and to be told that he is not just worthy but that he can be more.

That's why that whole Mama and Papa thing is so beautiful and seeing Way try to twist it is even worse. Because, to Babe, being called Mama is the most amazing thing. As you said, it validates not only that he is worthy of love but that he is worthy of giving love.

Babe has, for a very long time, locked up his want to be loved and to love in return, locked it behind sex and masculinity and the real belief that he wasn't worthy of loving or being loved, that he would never find what he was searching for and so he stopped searching. Why search for love when the one person who knew you better than anyone else convinced you that it could never be yours?

Charlie gave him love, gave him the chance to love and be loved, to be cared for and held and for all those soft moment and then Charlie said 'Mama, you are worthy of love and of being loved and making a family, a new family, a better family' and Babe melted entirely because he so desperately wants that.

And that's why Way's love is even more painful. Because Way loved Babe only if he was Way's. That's why I call Way an incel. Because the Babe that Way loved was a a Babe that Way was trying to shape. It was not the real Babe, not the babygirl who melts into Charlie's arms and melts into the pet name of Mama. Way loved his idea of Babe and that was why he was so able to hurt him.

Babe dreams of a family and raising children and having his lover at his side but Way dreams of the idea of Babe at his side and that means that none of the rest of it matters.

Way twisted Babe's dreams to fit his own. He saw Babe wanting a family and decided that going back to their original family would be just as good, wouldn't it? Now, a lot of that does come from the abusive nature of their former family that Babe escaped in a way Way didn't escape but that's just as hard to really focus on because, yes, it's an explanation but it's not an excuse.

Way has created a hole in heart that he keeps trying to fit Babe into because he's convinced that hole is Babe-shaped but the truth is that hole in his heart can never be filled because no one will ever fit that perfectly into yourself with no rough edges or snags.

Charlie lied to Babe but he also loved Babe for Babe and that is why he found his way back to Babe's side while Way lied to Babe but he loved who Babe should have been according to him and that is why he didn't understand when Babe exploded at him.

(Someday, Way may understand why Babe was so hurt but I don't think he's accepted that yet and that is why he is so dangerous. Because he still believes he can get Babe back by bringing him to his side... not understanding what he did to him.)

[prettywordsblog]

PAIRING Roman Roy & f reader

SUMMARY Roman is annoying and you make him shut up!!!

WORD COUNT 994

THEMES dom!reader, dry humping, cumming in pants

A/N I wanna work on a sorta angsty Rome fic but I can’t think of anything so if y’all got ideas hmu

“Hey dumbass. What’ve you been up to?”

Roman waltzes into his office, hands in his pockets. He’s got no care in the world, unlike you. He fucked up. Really bad. A deal went wrong and he finished the argument with “Why don’t you do me a favor and blow me?”

So, your afternoon was filled with ‘Sorry sir’s and ‘Mr. Roy apologizes for his behavior’s. But you know damn well Roman couldn’t care less.

“I’ve been trying to clean up the mess you’ve made. Hey, pro tip, since I know you’re socially inept— don’t tell a client to blow you.”

He chuckles at your response, as if it were the most unimportant thing he’s heard all day. “No one’s ever complained before.”

“Well, they have. And they’re pissed.”

"Ugh, you know how much I don't like it when you take the clients side." He sighs deeply and leans back in his chair. "Look, it doesn't matter what they think. I'm Roman fuckin’ Roy. The whole world knows me. The whole world loves me.”

“The whole world thinks you’re a facist. So no, they don’t exactly love you.”

“Hop off my dick! You’re being such a fuckin’ negative Nancy. It’s no big deal. Who even cares!”

“Me! Because I’m dealing with these douchebags and apologizing for you.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, eyebrows furrowing. You can’t believe the audacity of this man.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Do you ever fucking shut up?”

He grins at you mockingly. “Why would I do that?”

Roman should’ve shut up at this point, but he continues to sit there, smirking at you.

“What’s the matter? It’s just a little teasing.”

You walk over to his desk and grab his face. Your hand covers his mouth, forcibly keeping him quiet.

“I know you’re my boss, but someone seriously needs to discipline you.”

He’s shocked by the sudden aggression, but underneath his dazed stare there’s something hidden. Of course— it’s Roman. Is his watch lustful?

“You hear that? That’s the sound of silence. It’s nice isn’t it?”

He just stares at you, unmoving. You can feel the warmth of his skin.

“Good boy. Keep quiet like that.”

His puppy eyes gaze into yours.

You coo. “Just like that. Good boy, good boy.”

Slowly, you remove your hand. You’re treating him like a dog, teaching him how to be obedient to you, submissive to you.

“Happy?”

“It’s nice when you’re quiet. I should shut you up more often.” You whisper low.

And just like that, it’s no longer an argument. He’s under your command now, a spell of submission.

The corner of his mouth twitches, his words no longer smart. “You can shut me up any time you want.”

You grab the silky fabric of his tie, playing with it as you speak to him. “Mhm?”

“Especially when you do things like that.”

You wedge his tie off the collar of his shirt, tightening it around his neck as if it were a leash. You lean in, your lips just barely brushing against his. “I’ll shut you up then.”

“Yes. Please shut me up.”

And with a pull of his tie, his lips crash against yours.

In this moment he forgets everything— his attitude, his frustration, the fact he’s at work. He holds you tightly by the waist, fingers digging into your clothing.

Your hips press down against him as your back arches. You feel every part of him. The heat of his body, his clothing rubbing against yours, the stubble on his jawline. Not to mention the very, very prominent bulge in his pants.

You sink down against him, making him feel every bit of friction. The pressure of your body on his constricted cock makes Roman moan. His breathing comes out ragged, his chest rising and falling sporadically. His hands grab at your hips, pulling you tightly against him, not wanting this moment to end.

You pull away from the kiss. His lips are glistening, wet from spit. “You like that?”

He can only nod weakly, his mind flooded with nothing. Just the feeling of you and the scent of your perfume.

“Maybe I shut you up too well, huh?”

Still nothing. Nothing besides his hips bucking upwards, grinding against you and pathetic whimpers. He’s desperate to quell his painful hardness.

You roll your hips against his, making him feel it all.

He groans softly, panting. “Shit- more…” He whispers.

“Need you…”

He continues to hopelessly rut into your crotch, his breath rattled. His whole being is hungry for you.

You pull his head against your chest, stroking his hair gently as the two of you move in rhythm.

“Hmm, you gonna make a mess in your pants, Rome?”

“Aah- yes, yes I’m g’nna make a mess.”

His eyes flutter closed, breathing you in. He trails small kisses and nibbles along your neck. His grip on you only becomes more firm as he grows closer to his orgasm.

“You’re such a good boy for me.”

“I’m all yours…”

“Yes, that’s right. You’re all mine.”

Low whimpers leave his lips. His legs begin to grow weak.

“Mm, you close?”

“So close…” His words come out whiney.

“You’re gonna ruin your nice clothing like the pathetic bitch you are?”

He nods desperately. His eyes are shut and his fingers dig into your flesh painfully. And with just a few final humps against the heat of your crotch, he buries his head into the crook of your neck and spills. His pants are damp through the fabric, slightly sticky to the touch.

“And now you’re gonna be a good, quiet boy for me right?” You glare at him, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “And you’re gonna shut up?”

His face is beet red. His dark hair clings to his damp forehead and his chest rises and falls fast, exhilarated from his orgasm

“Yes, yes ma’am…” He groans. “I’ll be a good, quiet boy for you.”

[urlocalwormtoday]

Creation word list PART 1

(link to part two)

Niki's QSMP stream - Thursday, January 18th, 2024 :

"We are not done yet." x3 (He says this as soon as he sees Niki for the second time)

"Take me to shells." x2

"Shells."

"Shells now."

"Small little shells."

"Main shells."

"Your shell." (Speaking to Niki)

"Pancake shell." (Still speaking to Niki, now talking about Em)

"Friend for now."

"Please." (Was told the eggs were in an area he couldn't access/wasn't allowed in)

"Make right for my wrong."

"To the shells."

"You-you, are-are; shellkeeper." (Longer pause between the second 'are' and 'shellkeeper')

"You-you, are-are, shellkeeper." (Talking to/about Niki)

"Good news."

"Where is shells now?"

"Disappointed." (Was told, again, he couldn't see them)

"Keeper, I am; disappointed."

"Keeper, I am disappointed in you."

"It will be okay."

"It would be okay." x3

"We would be okay."

"You would be okay." x2

"The shells would be okay." (Is he trying to convince her??)

"Why are you worried?"

"Must point." (After being asked why he wanted to see the eggs in the first place (strange little power seen before, whoever he points at seems to disconnect) )

"Must point again."

"Fear not shellkeeper, it is safe."

"Here, there, everywhere."

"Here; there; everywhere." (Much longer pauses)

"Thank you dear shellkeeper."

"Shellkeeper, why?" (After being laughed at briefly)

"I thought; friend, no?"

"You do not seem sure." (After Niki assured him that they were friends)

"I can point at you if needed, keeper." (Unsure if this is a threat or an offer)

"Why?" (After being told by Niki that she would get nervous/upset if he did)

"I will be fine, what are you?" x2

"Promise me, dear keeper." (After Niki assured him she was fine as well)

"I will be fine, you will be fine."

"Shells please." x4

"Sick." (After being denied access to the eggs AGAIN)

"Sick you will be." x2

"I will not hurt you."

"Never." x2 (After being asked if he would hurt the eggs)

"Good news." (After being asked why he was here)

"Very good news."

"Only one very." (Correcting Niki)

"Please quote me correctly."

"Forgiven." (After Niki said sorry)

"Chunk." (After being asked where he was from, the word itself most likely referring to the Tubchunk)

"Unimportant." x3 (He was asked a multitude of questions, "are you from the tubchunk", "do you know tubbo", "are you tubbo", "is this what tubbos been working on", so I'm unsure which ones he's answering to)

"Unimportant." (I would usually group this with the one above considering they're the same word within a short span of time, but this one was spoken right after Niki asked what he wanted to do with the eggs)

"Unimportant."

"I am important." x2

"Why must you hurt me? Why must you hate me? Why must you? Do I need this? Is this for me? Do I need pain? Am I important?" (After he couldn't find a way to the eggs)

"We are not done yet." (Now talking to Empanada, who warped to them)

"Shell." x3 (Still talking to Em)

"Shell, I must share news." x2

"Are you important?" (Asking Em)

"Shell, are you important?"

"In everything?" (After being told that Em is important to her friends and family)

"What is everything to you?"

"So you are important?"

"This is good." (After being given an "I guess so" from Em in response to his previous question)

"I wish one day to be important like you are."

"Important." x4 (After being told he is important. The last two "important"s are said strangely, so I'm not sure if he's saying "I important" or just "important")

"I point out." x4

"I point now."

"Please be pointed at." (He says this just before pointing at and disconnecting Em)

"Thank you shellkeeper."

"In 60 seconds." (After being asked to bring Em back)

"Are you important, shellkeeper?"

"Perfect." (After Niki tells him she thinks everyone is important, after saying this he would bring Em back)

"Are to/too/two are important./?" (It's very hard to decipher what he says here, so I'm unsure if this is a statement or a question or otherwise)

"Thank you." (After Em tells him that the Morning Crew and Sunny loves him (she didn't know he wasn't Tubbo at the time))

"I am so pleased."

"What is king?" x3 (After Em calls him king)

"Need a home." (After Niki asked him if there was anything he wanted/needed)

"For important."

"Please do not talk of; creator." (After Em asks if he's Tubbo or someone else)

"Shell." x2 (Trying to get Em's attention)

"Do not tell creator." (Creator = Tubbo)

"Outside must not; be on here." (Unsure whether or not he says "be on here" or "beyond here")

"Creator will not be mad, just will have to start over."

"When start over, I end." (I assume it's either like a full reset and then completely remaking the code, or a factory reset that wipes any memories or anything else)

"I end forever."

"I am important."

"I do not want to end."

"Let's go somewhere." (He says this before he starts walking off)

"Not finished; I struggle." (I assume he's referring to himself being most likely 'incomplete')

"The jump, keeper." (After Niki asks what he struggles with)

"You, keeper."

"I struggle with jump."

"Must not wet." (He says this after he sees a river, so I assume he's a robot of some kind)

"No fear but scar."

"Indeed." (After being asked by Niki if the water hurts him)

"Indeed." (Repeated after Niki asks him if he knows where he's going)

"It hurts; my feet." (After he sits down on the beach and his feet are dangling in the water)

"Indeed." (Confirming he feels better after Niki places scaffolding under his feet so they aren't touching the water anymore)

"You are sick?"

"I could tell." (Niki was sick during this and he says this after she confirms that she is sick. Also I hope she feels better soon <33)

"I said you would become sick."

"No, I just knew." (After Niki asks if he got her sick)

"Unimportant." (After being asked how he knew)

"Creator; and shells." (After being asked what is important)

"Only one is not." (Talking about the eggs)

"Unimportant." (He was asked two different questions before he answered, so I'm not sure which one he was answering to, "which shell isn't important?" or "are you here to protect the eggs?")

"The shell that is not." (Niki asks him again, "which shell isn't important", and he seems to dodge the question)

"I do." (When asked if he knows the name of the egg that isn't important)

"No." (When asked if he could give Niki the name of the egg)

"Must not." (When he was asked why he can't give the name)

"Priority of protection is private." (When he was asked again why he couldn't give the name)

"Some come first, some come after."

"Creator says the list must not release."

"Unimportant." (When asked if he is here to protect the eggs)

"To some." (After Niki said "I think it's very important")

"Purpose." (After being asked if it is unimportant to him)

"Please do not ask of the list."

"Feelings will hurt if so."

"Shell feelings." (After Niki asked for clarification on who's feelings, insinuating the list is private partially because the eggs might get upset if they find out who's first and/or last)

"Yes." x14 (Said very, VERY fast and in quick succession in response to Niki asking him if there was any way she could help)

"Unable to agree."

"Yes." x14 (Said very fast again when asked if there was a conflict)

"One is equal to one, shell does not equal shell."

[auroravictorium]

you're on your own, kid (k.b.)

I looked around in a blood-soaked gown, and I saw something they can't take away.

Summary: set before the midnights series takes place, reader has been a member of the dregs for only a year and has developed a crush on kaz in that time. one night after her shift, her loyalty to the dregs is accidentally put to the test, and things begin to change between kaz and reader.

Pairing(s): kaz x fem!reader (pining by reader) Word Count: ~2.9k Warnings: violence [blood, fighting, stab wounds], death of unimportant character, drinking by jesper and reader, no insight into kaz's feelings in this one bc he's getting his own prequel piece <3, very light proofreading Genre: pretty fluffy until the fight scene

Author's Note: sorry about the delay on posting this, everyone! i've been sick, but i'm feeling better and ready to write again :)) thank you for the requests i've gotten so far - i'm SO EXCITED to write them!! enjoy!

grishaverse masterlist / kaz pov for this piece (coming soon!)

The humid summer air pressed down on you as you rushed the few blocks from the Slat to the Crow Club. The heat made you tired, and you took what you thought would be a short midday nap in your room. The nap ended up lasting longer than expected, and now you were twenty minutes late to your shift at the Crow Club. Cursing under your breath, you adjusted the collar of your dress against your sticky neck as you darted down the uneven sidewalk in your rush to make up for being late.

"Move," you muttered under your breath, shoving past a meandering patron and swiping his pocket watch as you passed. You dashed into the Club and passed Jesper at the door as the man realized he'd been pickpocketed. He roared something unintelligible behind you, and you only smirked as you pushed your way to the bar to relieve the poor Dreg who was still there. 

She shot you a glare and left, and you only shrugged back before getting to work. Whatever. She'd been late more times than you could count.  

You were able to pour two drinks before a cane thumped against the floor behind you. Wincing, you turned to see your boss looking at you impassively. "You're late," Kaz said. He surveyed you up and down, and you tried not to blush under his gaze.

"I overslept." There was no use lying or coming up with a better excuse. Lying to Kaz was a death wish, and you liked your position in the Dregs enough to not want to lose it. After a full year with them, you'd finally established yourself with the group and made friends with Nina and Jesper. You'd even gotten to know Inej somewhat, and you longed to know her better and learn from her. 

Kaz considered that for a moment. "Don't let it happen again." He walked off to probably scare someone else, and you exhaled heavily and returned to making drinks. When he was around, you could hardly breathe and found yourself struggling to look at him directly. Those blue eyes made you want to blush, and the butterflies in your stomach churned violently. It was no secret that people found Kaz attractive, but you'd rather jump into the harbor in the middle of winter than have your feelings exposed. Your cohorts in the Dregs would never let you live in peace.

Regardless, nothing could happen. Kaz was the boss. You were still working to establish yourself in the Dregs; you were surprised he even noticed your tardiness. That's how much of a nobody you figured you were, even though he recruited you himself after word spread of someone causing trouble for the rich.

Boots thumped against the floorboards as Jesper, fresh off the door, shoved his way over and plopped himself on a stool before you. "He let you off easy," Jesper said. You set a clean shot glass on the counter and rifled for his favorite liquor. "Must be in a good mood."

You shot him a look, pausing your shuffling. "Kaz is never in a good mood."

"He never tolerates lateness, either," Jesper pointed out. He jerked his chin toward the shot glass and batted his eyelashes. "Please?"

Shaking your head, you found the liquor and poured Jesper a shot. He bowed his head to you as if you were a Saint, then downed the drink in one smooth gulp. "You're insufferable," you told him.

"You love me." He set his glass down and swiveled to survey the crowded Club around you. "Caught three men trying to get in with fake coin." Jesper clicked his tongue. "Explains why Boss is here."

You didn't respond and pretended to examine the room. But your eyes lingered on a well-tailored figure roaming the less-populated parts of the Crow Club. The crow's head of his cane shimmered in the dim lighting, allowing you to keep track of his movements as he strolled this way and that, seemingly without a care in the world. His hair was slicked back today, the sides a bit shorter than the last time you'd seen him; he must have cut his hair. It suits him, you thought. It complemented his angular face, and with his hair out of the way, you could see his eyes.

His eyes were as blue as the sky on a rare day when the clouds parted over Ketterdam. They were your favorite thing about him, aside from the image of his smile you'd conjured in your mind. You'd never seen it and likely never would, but you indulged in your imagination. As long as word of your tiny crush on Kaz didn't get out, you would allow yourself to wonder whether he had dimples.

Jesper glanced at you and then followed your gaze to where Kaz was subtly looking over a man's shoulder at his cards. He leaned over the bar and whispered in your ear, "You're staring."

You jerked, nearly bumping his glass, then swatted him on the shoulder. "No, I'm not." Your cheeks burned, and you turned your back so that Jesper couldn't see your face. Damn it, Y/N. Couldn't wait to stare until Jesper left?

"You totally were." Jesper reached and ruffled your hair, and you smacked his hands away with a fierce scowl. "Does Y/N have a crush?" he asked in a sing-song voice. He abandoned his stool and rounded the counter to bump his shoulder with yours. He helped himself, pouring another shot and waggling his eyebrows at you.

"I will break your nose," you hissed. Your face and neck were hot, and you glanced over at Kaz to make sure he hadn't noticed the two of you. Nobody else seemed to notice either, but you needed Jesper to shut up before that changed. "Stop talking, Jesper."

"Oooh, you do," Jesper sang. Drink in one hand, he wrapped his other arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. "Y/N has a crush on-"

You grabbed Jesper's arm and ducked under it before giving it a sharp twist. Not hard enough to harm him, but with enough force that he shut his damned mouth. He winced and set down his drink to rub his shoulder. "Don't," you warned him. "I don't want anyone to know." You frowned and poured another drink as a regular walked through the door and straight toward the bar.

Jesper softened at the look on your face and lost his teasing mood. "What's the worst that can happen?" He nudged you gentler this time.

"I get laughed out of the Dregs and end up back on the streets," you answered, already sliding the regular's drink to him by the time he produced kruge and set it on the counter. He added a few coins for a tip, and you flashed him a false smile of thanks before turning back to Jesper. "It's not going to happen, Jesper," you whispered. "I've accepted that. It's just a stupid thing, and it'll go away."

"You don't know that," Jesper insisted, ever the optimist. You shook your head, and he rushed to continue. "You can always test it, see if there's a spark there."

"How am I supposed to do that, exactly? Tell him, 'Oh, hey, by the way, I wanted to ask whether there's a spark between us,'" you said mockingly. You grabbed a torn-up rag and started to viciously scrub at an impossible stain on the counter. You didn't even know why you were starting to get upset with Jesper; it wasn't as if he was being hurtful. He was offering genuine suggestions for navigating your feelings, but you were frustrated by it. Maybe it was the fact that it would never happen. Kaz didn't show interest in anyone but himself and his money. End of story.

"Well, don't say that," Jesper muttered. "A recipe for disaster. Why don't you start by saying hi and see how that goes?"

You faced Jesper and put on your best Kaz glare. After a few beats of silence, you broke and gave him your own scowl. "That's how he would respond, Jesper." 

You forced yourself to take a few deep breaths. You were just embarrassed that Jesper had seen right through you. That's all this was, and Jesper didn't deserve the brunt of it. You'd scream into your stupid, flimsy pillow at the Slat later. "I appreciate the advice, Jesper, but I don't want to talk about this anymore. Now, if you're going to stand behind the bar like an obstacle," you began, throwing the dirty rag at him. He batted it out of the air with a disgusted look, and you smirked in satisfaction. "Either leave or help clean."

"I'd rather not, thanks," Jesper said. He picked the rag up from the ground and held it away from him as if it were poisonous. After throwing it in a bin, he turned to you with that classic, charming Jesper smile. "I'll be at the Slat."

"Please, don't say anything," you pleaded. You caught his arm as he turned to leave. "Please, Jesper."

He stopped and looked down at you. Seeing the desperation on your face, he nodded slowly. "I won't, sweetheart." He ruffled your hair one more time to see your grimace and the look in your eyes that promised violence, then he was off and swaggering out of the Club. 

You sighed in relief and leaned against the counter, fixing the hair that Jesper had disturbed. Seeing the shot on the counter he'd left behind, you considered before grabbing it and knocking it back. The alcohol burned on its way down, tasting bitter and vaguely treelike, and you wanted to gag. But you needed the confidence because the whole exchange with Jesper made you wish you were anywhere else. At least alcohol didn't tease you about your stupid crush. It just helped you through it.

Miraculously, the rest of your shift passed with no further encounters with Kaz or anyone else who could tease you. You made it back to the Slat, your coin pouch weighed down with tips, and you took the steps two at a time up to the attic to deliver your tips for the day. They'd make their way back to you eventually, but Kaz liked to catalog them to get a sense of how his Dregs were doing bringing in revenue.

A true businessman, except infinitely more terrifying.

You slipped into his office, grateful that you'd seen him still patrolling the Club when you left. Unless he could be in two places at once, you were safe. Depositing your pouch on his desk with a short note, you turned to leave.

A thump sounded from the room connecting to Kaz's office. Metal scraping on metal came next, making your ears ring. The hairs on the back of your neck rose, and you immediately slipped your favorite dagger from its sheathe at your waist. The weight was comforting in your hand as you crept toward the door and leaned against the wall next to it, listening.

Silence. A heavy, unnatural silence. And then slow, creeping footsteps moved right toward the door.

Goosebumps rose along your skin despite the hot summer air. This was not a Dreg. Nobody entered Kaz's bedroom unless they had a death wish, and there was only one way to get in. There was someone in there who definitely shouldn't be.

The footsteps to the door, and you threw your weight at it as you opened it. Someone grunted behind the door and stumbled back, and you rounded it to find a man twice your size dressed in all black, except for the gleaming mop of golden hair on his head.

Not a Dreg.

Your days on the streets returned to you, and you made the first move while he was dazed. You shoved him back toward a small, teetering bookshelf in the corner. He collapsed into it. The wood turned to dust, and thick books rained down on his head and hit the floor with loud thumps. His back hit the wall behind the shelf as it damn near disintegrated underneath him. He recovered quickly, pulling his own weapon from a sheath at his thigh and advancing on you.

You exchanged blows. The man was strong and put most of his weight behind each swing, and the blade narrowly missed your face when he slashed a wide arc in an attempt to disarm you. You ducked as he used his free hand to try to punch you, and you shoved his arms away as you came back up, bringing your knee to his gut. He groaned but was unaffected enough that he could plunge his dagger toward your chest. Unable to dodge completely after putting too much weight into the blow to his stomach, you settled for turning to bear the impact.

The blade pierced your shoulder, and you clenched your teeth to muffle your cry of agony. White-hot pain ran through you, and it took every piece of training you had to resist the urge to drop your weapon and cup the seeping wound. Your knuckled turned white as you gripped your knife tighter and went straight for his throat, taking advantage of his moment of satisfaction.

The man gurgled as your blade made contact with his skin, and blood sprayed onto your hands, face, and clothes. He released his dagger and crumbled to the floor with a loud thud, cupping his throat and staring up at the ceiling with wide, agonized eyes.

You knelt over him and shoved his shirt sleeve up. The limpness of your left arm made the task difficult, but you managed by gritting your teeth to muffle your heavy breathing. Something was severed. No time to think about that. Focus. Who the hell was this man who was clearly sent to kill Kaz?

A tattoo stared up at you, dark as night against his skin. It looked as you expected: a cat curled on top of a crown, with the Dime Lions' motto beneath it. You recoiled in disgust and shoved his arm away from you. Standing, you stepped on the Dime Lion's hand and felt the bones snap. Twisted satisfaction ran through you. He deserves much worse.

He didn't respond to the pain. Blood pooled on the floor, puddling beneath him and seeping into the old wood. He was gone, well and truly, and his eyes were glassy and blank. They were turned toward the ceiling as if the Saints could help him now. If you weren't trembling with anger, pain, and adrenaline, you would have closed his eyes, although he didn't deserve the gesture.

Footsteps thundered behind you, and you whirled, ready for more would-be assassins to arrive. Instead, Jesper, Inej, Kaz, and a few miscellaneous Dregs piled into the room, their weapons drawn and aimed. 

Jesper's mouth dropped when he processed what stood before him, and he holstered his guns. "Saints," he breathed. His eyes flicked between you and the man behind you, disbelief shining in them.

Your dagger thudded to the ground as the adrenaline suddenly left your body. The blood was gushing from your shoulder faster, soaking the back of your dress and spreading toward the front. The Dime Lion struck deep, and your head began to spin. The air suddenly felt too cool, and you shivered, crossing your good arm across your chest.

What the hell just happened?

"Get Nina," Kaz ordered, turning to pierce the Dregs behind him with a glare. "Now."

The Dregs went, scrambling out the door and back down the stairs.

Kaz limped over toward the dead man lying behind you. You didn't notice his eyes lingering on you or how they dropped to your shoulder. There were dust motes in the air. Or maybe sawdust from the destroyed bookshelf. Maybe you were imagining it. "Grab her," Kaz said with an unexpected softness. 

You were definitely imagining things now. Kaz didn't talk like that.

Jesper and Inej surged forward, supporting your weight and leading you to a seat in Kaz's office. The wound was nonlethal, but the blood loss certainly could be, and the two wasted little time in ripping the left shoulder of your dress off you and starting to apply pressure to the wound.

Through the open door, you saw Kaz investigating the dead man. You hardly felt the fingers probing at your wound as Kaz bent his head and looked over the scene.

"You did a good job," Inej whispered, bringing you back to yourself. She squeezed your uninjured arm to get your attention, and you turned your eyes to hers. She offered you a small, warm smile that reached her eyes. The tension in your good shoulder eased. She just had that effect. "You did what needed to be done."

Two sets of footsteps approached one from Kaz's bedroom and one from the hallway. Nina entered the office in a mess of skirts and unbound hair. Without hesitating, she knelt next to you and started to work.

You didn't focus on her, nor on Inej and Jesper starting to murmur around you about what happened, how they could have missed this, how they should respond.

Kaz leaned his shoulder against the doorway, putting his weight on his good leg, and he examined you. You met his blue gaze despite the butterflies going haywire in your stomach. Earlier, you'd been too shy to look at him, but now, having killed someone trying to kill him, you met his look head-on. 

Everyone else disappeared. It was just you and Kaz.

Almost imperceptibly, he nodded. Well done.

TAGLIST: @tonberry-yoda, @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r, @futurecorps3