#that I’ve had for as long as I can remember’

[goldenroutledge]

i must be dreaming

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

prompt: ❛ you’re lucky that you’re cute. ❜

a/n: for my wonderful moot @yearneir, thank you so much for the request! i had so much fun writing this <3

masterlist || be my valentine blurb event 💌

“Knock, knock!” Two knocks sound through the door of Lando’s hotel room, followed by the familiar cheerfulness of Alma, the hotel’s concierge. “Delivery for Mr. Norris!”

Lando’s muscles ache with a soreness that weighs him down into the softness of the duvet, having sprawled out face first onto the bed the second he got back from another long day of testing. The winter months are always the shortest, often flying by more quickly than the season does.

His mind is tired as well, struggling a bit extra to get back into the swing of things after months away from being in the car. He doesn’t recall ordering any room service but if he did, he’s more out of it than he previously thought.

With a sigh of reluctance, he drags his feet towards the door of the stylish hotel suite. His vision is blurry as he rubs the sleep from his eyes and instinctively checks the time on his phone that reads 8:03pm. Definitely way too early to sleep for the night, but a power nap has never hurt him before.

Sure enough, Alma is waiting on the other side of the door with a bright smile and a silver platter in hand. “Good evening, Mr. Norris. I was instructed to bring this to your room along with this letter.”

He takes a deep breath, as if the surprise delivery will make more sense when he gets some more oxygen flowing to his brain. “Oh, thank you. Who’s it from?”

Alma smiles coyly but won’t reveal too much. “I can’t say, but your answer is in the envelope. Can I get you anything else while I’m here, sir?”

“Just Lando is fine.” He politely corrects. “I’m okay, thank you though.”

“Have a nice evening.” Alma disappears down the hallway, leaving Lando to his letter and mysterious silver platter. He’s seen enough movies to know that there’s usually someone’s head under these. His first name is written neatly on the envelope and what catches his eye is the red heart stamped into the wax seal.

He remembers the date, February 14th, and blushes at the thought of you. The both of you had been corresponding on the phone like usual, of course confirming that you had received the bouquet of flowers, chocolates, and a few pieces from your favorite designer that Lando made sure to have delivered to your home, with a promise that he’d be able to properly wine and dine you in a week’s time. He carefully lifts the seal, a childlike grin spreading across his face at the sight of your neat handwriting.

-

My dearest Lando,

It pains me to be apart from you, but the distance will let our hearts grow fonder. I hope you enjoy the present I’ve prepared for you.

Yours truly,

Y/n.

P.S. Call me when you get this. XOXO.

-

His hopes are high for whatever’s underneath the silver dome, perhaps some comfort food like a classic Roast dinner that reminds him of home, just like his Mum makes.

Lando lifts the silver to find not a warm meal, but cold and slimy rolls of sushi making the shape of a heart, dipping cups of wasabi and soy sauce resting in the center.

“What the hell?!” He yelps, visibly startled by the sight. “She knows I hate this stuff.” He’s scrolling to the favorite contacts in his call log, instinctively clicking your name.

When you answer on the second ring smiling like the Cheshire Cat, Lando knows he’s been set up.

“Is this your way of breaking up with me? Sending a plate of fish to my hotel room on Valentine’s Day?” Your laugh pierces through the phone, and he’s still dumbfounded as to how you managed to pull a prank on him all the way from Monaco. “What did I ever do to you?”

“Nothing, I just wanted you to know that I’m soy into you. Happy Valentine’s Day, babe!”

“Aw, very clever. I hope you know that I’m gonna get you back for this. What fruit was it that you are mildly allergic to again? Starfruit, was it? I’m sending 50 starfruit arrangements to our house as we speak.”

“With all the risks you take at work, I’m amazed that sushi of all things has become your greatest fear. How is that?”

Lando scoffs, “I am not scared of sushi.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself? Sorry love, the proof is out there. But I wanted you to know that I love you anyway.”

“I love you too.” He grumbles, but there’s no bite behind his words. Lando finally takes a better look at you, but doesn’t recognize the wall in the background. He doesn’t recognize the wall behind you from your house, that is. He looks around his suite, now puzzled as to how your background matches the exact color of the hotel walls. Interesting. “Wait, where are you? You’re not at home are you?”

“I’m in a place that people temporarily call home?” You offer with a mysterious edge to your words and he subtly catches on. You can see the gears turning for him, the realization visible on his face when he moves toward the door once again.

“Wait a second… Are you HERE?! At my hotel?” His incredulous tone translates from the speaker on your phone to reverberating in your ears, behind his hotel room door that you’re standing in front of.

The door swings open and you’re reunited with those sparkling cerulean eyes you know so well. He takes a pause, glancing back and forth between his screen and you, now within arms reach. Wasting time would be a foolish thing to do. Without a care he drops his phone in exchange for cradling your face in his hands before smashing his lips onto yours. You don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his frame, relishing in how warm he feels against you.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He breathes out, as if his life depends on saying it.

“Surprise! I missed you too, clearly. I’ve been wanting to try my sushi prank for a while now and this gave me the perfect opportunity. Had to get you riled up with something you hate so you’d be extra happy to see me.”

“Not necessary.” Lando murmurs against you, peppering kisses to your lips. “I don’t need anything extra, you know that. It did serve as a nice surprise, though. Definitely better than the sushi.”

You giggle as he shudders at the thought. “Forgive me?”

“You’re forgiven,” Lando sighs, unable to resist your pleading eyes and the warm notes of amber in your perfume that captivate him, “but I hope you know that if anyone else did this to me, and I mean anyone else on this planet, I would not speak a word to them for the rest of my life. However, for you, I can make an exception. You’re lucky that you’re cute.”

You kiss him sweetly, holding hints of satisfaction behind your smile at how well your plan has been executed. “Don’t worry, I plan to make it up to you. It is Valentine’s Day, after all.”

“Just when I thought tonight couldn’t get any better, how did I get so lucky?”

You pinch his cheek teasingly. “You do look exhausted still, are you sure you’re not dreaming of me?”

Lando catches your wrist and presses a kiss to the skin, content with knowing that he’ll dream of you tonight and wake up beside you tomorrow. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

💌: thanks for reading, comments & reblogs are always appreciated!

psst… my requests are open :) be my valentine blurb event 💌

[stolasbuckzo]

I can see it playing out something similar to this:

Stolas sat quietly on the couch in the apartment he had come to know so well. Eight months had passed since he moved in with Blitz and Loona after his exile from the Goetia estate. At first, he had been overwhelmed with gratitude, keeping his distance from any sense of ownership or permanence. He’d left the apartment just as it was when he arrived, unwilling to impose. After all, this place wasn’t his; it was Blitz’s home, Loona’s sanctuary. He was just… a long-term guest, wasn’t he?

It gnawed at him quietly. Stolas tried not to notice how bare his surroundings felt—how the walls held no personal touch of his own. The balcony stood empty, no trace of the lush greenery he once surrounded himself with in his tower. Inside, there were no celestial motifs to remind him of the stars that had brought him comfort. He didn’t mind… or, at least, he told himself that. This wasn’t his place to shape, after all.

That was until Blitz, arms crossed and leaning against the kitchen counter, casually broke the silence over dinner one night. “So, uh… you really gonna keep this place looking like a dead guy’s mausoleum for the next century or somethin’?”

Stolas blinked, his fork pausing mid-air. “A century?”

Blitz smirked but softened as he stepped forward, his tail flicking lazily behind him. “Yeah, Birdbrain. You’re gonna be stuck here with us until your Goetia title gets reinstated, and who the hell knows when that’s happenin’. Might as well make yourself at home.” He plopped down next to Stolas, nudging him lightly with his elbow. “C’mon, Stols. Hundred years is a long-ass time to live like a guest. You ain’t a guest—unless you’re plannin’ on moving out once you save up enough to rent a place with your own royal ass or somethin’.”

Stolas opened his mouth to protest, but Blitz cut him off, his voice more tender now. “Look… I don’t mind if you, y’know, make it your own a bit. Neither does Loona. Hell, she said the other day it’s weird you haven’t ‘Stolas-ed’ up the place yet.” Blitz chuckled. “And… you’re here. Really here. So stop acting like you gotta walk on eggshells around us, alright?”

The words hung between them for a moment. Stolas felt a warmth spread through him, deeper than the teasing could account for. Blitz meant it. He wasn’t just a guest anymore.

A few weeks passed, and gradually, the apartment began to shift. It was subtle at first: a few small plants placed on the balcony, a vine climbing up a railing. Stolas didn’t overthink it. He simply let himself do what felt right. In the living room, Blitz noticed when Stolas hung a few celestial ornaments—planets and stars glimmering in soft gold and silver. One night, Blitz came home to find the living room bathed in a gentle, ambient glow from enchanted starlights Stolas had scattered across the ceiling. Blitz whistled low as he looked around.

“Damn. It’s kinda nice in here,” Blitz murmured, letting his eyes roam. He wasn’t the sentimental type, but seeing how the space had subtly transformed, it… felt right. It reflected both of them now—Stolas’s fascination with the cosmos and the life that Blitz, and even Loona had breathed into their little family.

Later that night, Blitz sat beside Stolas on the balcony, where potted flowers and herbs swayed gently in the Hellish breeze. They looked out over the city together, the faint glow of the enchanted stars inside casting long, gentle shadows through the glass door behind them.

Blitz leaned closer, resting a hand on Stolas’s knee. “See? Told ya you’d make this place better.”

Stolas smiled softly, his gaze turning upward. “You were right, Blitz. It feels… more like home now. I didn’t think I could ever have that again. Not after everything I’ve lost.”

Blitz squeezed his knee lightly and leaned his head back against Stolas’s shoulder. “Yeah, well, you didn’t lose everything. You got us, remember?” His voice softened, almost inaudible over the wind. “You got me.”

Stolas’s throat tightened, and he turned his head to press a light kiss to Blitz’s temple. “I do. And I’ll never take that for granted.”

They sat in peaceful silence after that, the city lights twinkling beneath them like distant stars. For the first time in a long while, Stolas felt a sense of belonging he hadn’t realized he’d been craving all along. He wasn’t a prince in exile anymore—not here. He was Stolas, a part of something real. A part of them.

The worse case scenario at the end of season scenario is that at some point (whether at the end of S3 or early S4) someone— possibly Paimon— pulls strings to end Stolas’s sentence early than intended

the balcony from the last scene looked so empty, i thought it might be a nice place for a little garden hehe

Don’t use without permission, don’t repost, please. Ok to reblog! Thank you! 💛

[theballadofharkness]

Agatha Harkness VS Salem: the kittening

Pairing: Agatha Harkness X fem!reader

Summary: When you brings home a stray kitten Agatha can’t say no to those big pleading eyes and putting lips. What she doesn’t know is that she has met her new mortal enemy, transforming her house in a battleground in which she is fighting for your attention.

Word Count: 3.4K

A/N: I may have already almost finished a part 2 to this already… this may be my favourite thing I’ve ever wrote

The candlelight flickered, casting long shadows along the walls as Agatha sat at the head of the table, fingers drumming against the polished surface. Your fellow witches exchanged glances, some amused, others bracing for the inevitable storm.

“She’s taking too long,” Agatha muttered, narrowing her eyes at the door as if sheer will alone would bring you home.

Billy smirked but wisely kept his mouth shut. Lilia, however, leaned forward, arching a brow. “She just went to get food, Agatha. You do remember she’s an adult, yes?”

Agatha’s sharp glare snapped to her, but Lilia didn’t flinch. She was used to Agatha’s theatrics by now.

“I do remember,” Agatha said, tone clipped, “but she should be back by now. Anything could’ve happened.”

Jen chuckled under her breath. “Oh yes, because the biggest, scariest threat to her is probably tripping over a squirrel.”

Alice grinned. “Or getting distracted by a particularly interesting tree.”

Agatha’s scowl deepened, but her fingers stilled. It was true- you were soft, gentle, prone to stopping to feed birds or magically fixing a bumblebees wing. It was why she loved you. It was why she worried.

Lilia sighed, resting her chin on her palm. “If you panic every time she goes out alone, she’ll think you don’t trust her to be independent.”

Agatha’s jaw clenched. “I trust her. I just don’t trust other people.”

Billy snorted. “Sure Agatha.”

Before Agatha could snap at him, the front door creaked open. The tension in her shoulders snapped like a thread, and in an instant, she was on her feet, sweeping toward you.

There you were, glowing with warmth, eyes bright as you kicked off your shoes. But she saw it- the hesitation, the way you bit your lip. Her stomach dropped.

“You worried mommy,” she purred, brushing a hand along your cheek, thumb tracing your lower lip. “You took too long. What’s wrong, darling?”

You swallowed, shifting your weight, cradling something in your arms.

“Aggie… please don’t be mad.”

Agatha’s eyes darkened. “Why would I be mad?”

You hesitated, then slowly, gently, lifted a tiny, black-furred bundle into view. A kitten. Small, fragile, with wide, gleaming eyes. It mewed softly.

Agatha’s nostrils flared. “Oh, absolutely not.”

The room went silent. The coven, who had seen Agatha deal with all manner of supernatural threats, were now witnessing something far more dangerous: a battle of wills between the all-powerful Agatha Harkness and her painfully sweet, unfairly adorable wife.

Agatha crossed her arms, leveling you with a firm stare. “No.”

You blinked up at her, cradling the tiny kitten against your chest. “No?”

She lifted her chin. “No.”

Billy, sitting on the couch, leaned toward Jen and whispered, *“She’s already lost.”*

Agatha shot him a look, but her attention snapped back to you when you let out a soft, sad sigh. You rubbed a gentle finger over the kitten’s tiny ear, your lower lip jutting out just slightly. Not enough to be dramatic, just enough to devastate her.

“Aggie, please,” you murmured, looking up at her with wide, pleading eyes. “I love him. He needs us.”

Agatha steeled herself. “Baby, come on, we have a rabbit already.”

You perked up. “But they can be best friends!”

“They will not be best friends-”

“We can raise him,” you continued, stepping closer, voice soft, persuasive, sweet as honey. “Please, Aggie. I love you. And I love him. Please?”

A muscle in Agatha’s jaw twitched. Her fingers flexed like she was physically holding herself back.

Alice, watching from across the room, snorted. “Oh my god, just let her keep the damn cat.”

“She’s gonna say yes,” Jen stage-whispered.

Billy propped his chin on his hand. “She’s just stretching it out for dramatic effect now.”

“I am not,” Agatha snapped, then turned back to you, who was still looking at her like she hung the moon and stars in the sky. Damn you and your sweetness.

She let out a long, suffering sigh, dragging a hand down her face. Then, after a moment, she dropped her hand, pinched the bridge of her nose, and muttered, “fine.”

You gasped, eyes lighting up as you clutched the kitten closer. “Really?”

Agatha groaned. “Yes, really. But I swear to the gods, if he scratches up my books, or if he pisses on the rug, he’s your problem.”

You grinned, bouncing up and down in glee. “Okay! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise you’ll love him!”

Agatha grumbled something under her breath but didn’t resist when you threw your arms around her. Her hands settled on your waist, grip firm but familiar, and she sighed against your hair.

Billy snickered. “Well, that was pathetic.”

Agatha shot him a glare over your shoulder. “I will turn you into a toad.”

But even as she threatened Billy, her arms curled tighter around you, and she let you tuck the kitten between you both. He let out a tiny, content purr.

“I told you mommy would let you stay didn’t I S…” you cooed, stopping and blushing as you almost revealed your new sons name.

Agatha groaned. “Oh, for the love of- you’ve already named him, haven’t you?”

You smiled guiltily and nodded “his name is Salem”

Lilia cackled. “Oh, now that’s just poetic.”

~

Agatha woke with a slow, satisfied stretch, a lazy smirk curling on her lips as she reached across the bed, expecting to find you- warm, soft, pliant against her.

But the sheets were cold.

Her smirk faded. She frowned, eyes cracking open, hand still patting the empty space beside her. “Baby?”

Silence.

Her frown deepened.

She sat up, fingers raking through her hair, listening carefully. Then…

A giggle.

Agatha’s head snapped toward the bedroom door. You were giggling? Without her? Another soft peal of laughter, followed by a quiet meow. Agatha’s nostrils flared.

Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she grabbed her robe, slipping it on as she stalked toward the door. Her morning had already been ruined by the lack of you curled against her, but now she was hearing giggles- the kind that were usually reserved for her alone- and she wasn’t involved?

Completely unacceptable.

Barefoot and silent, she padded down the hall, pushing open the living room doors to find…

You. Laying on your stomach on the rug, elbow propped under your chin, face alight with pure, radiant joy as you dragged a ribbon back and forth. Salem, the tiny black-furred usurper, pounced and tumbled after it, little tail flicking in excitement.

Agatha scowled.

She was being ignored.

By you.

For a cat.

Her presence went unnoticed as she leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, glaring down at the scene with unmasked displeasure.

“Oh, you’re such a clever boy,” you cooed, wiggling the ribbon. Salem pounced again, missing completely and landing in an adorable, flailing heap. You laughed, reaching out to scratch behind his ears. “Such a little hunter, aren’t you? Yes, you are! So fierce!”

Agatha rolled her eyes so hard she nearly saw another dimension.

Fierce? That tiny thing was not fierce. She was fierce.

And yet, here you were, lavishing all your attention- attention that should have been spent in bed, between her thighs or seated on her face- on this ridiculous furball.

Enough.

She cleared her throat. Loudly.

You gasped, looking up with wide, startled eyes. “Oh! Aggie, good morning!”

Agatha arched a brow, gaze flicking between you and the kitten still sprawled on the rug. “Is it?”

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, blinking at her. “What’s wrong?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You tell me, darling. I woke up alone. And when I came looking for you, I find you here, on the floor, giggling and fawning over-” she gestured vaguely at Salem, “that.”

Salem, utterly unbothered by her disdain, flopped onto his back and stretched out his tiny paws.

Your expression softened immediately. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry! He woke up early and was being all cute, so I thought I’d play with him for a little bit.”

Agatha’s eye twitched. “You left our bed for a cat.”

You bit your lip, suppressing a smile. “Are you jealous?”

Her jaw clenched. “Of a kitten? No.”

You giggled again, pushing up onto your knees and crawling toward her. “Mmm, I think you are.”

Agatha huffed, tilting her chin up. “Absolutely not.”

But then you reached for her, standing up with hands slipping under her robe, fingers grazing over the bare skin of her waist as you pressed a soft kiss to her collarbone. “Poor mommy,” you murmured, lips trailing up her neck. “You just want my attention, don’t you?”

Agatha shivered, but held her ground. “I deserve your attention.”

You hummed, pressing a final kiss just under her jaw. “Well, then maybe you should play nice with Salem, so you don’t have to share it.”

Agatha’s glare snapped back to the kitten, who was currently grooming his tiny paw, wholly unbothered. Smug little thing.

She exhaled sharply. “Fine. But if he touches my spellbooks, he’s gone.”

You grinned, wrapping your arms around her waist. “Deal.”

Salem meowed.

Agatha scowled.

This was war.

~

Agatha took a slow breath, rolling back her shoulders as she watched Billy attempt the spell she had just demonstrated.

“Focus,” she instructed, arms crossed. “Channel your energy through the rune, don’t just throw power at it.”

Billy muttered something under his breath but obeyed, adjusting his stance and trying again. The rune shimmered in the air before them, pulsing faintly with his magic. It was… adequate.

Agatha nodded once. “Better.”

She turned slightly, expecting to see you sitting up, watching like you always did when she mentored Billy. You were always so attentive- so soft and doting, looking at her like she had hung the stars just by showing a simple spell. But when she glanced toward the sofa her blood ran cold.

There you were, but not watching her. Not waiting to drape yourself over her the second she was done. No, you were napping, curled up on the couch, and draped across your chest, smug as anything, was Salem.

Agatha’s nostrils flared. Unbelievable.

She clenched her fists, fighting the petty urge to hex the little thing right off you. It was enough that you fawned over him every waking moment, but now? Now, even in sleep, Salem had claimed his place as the ruler of this household.

Billy, following her gaze, immediately perked up. “Oh my god, look at him.”

Agatha’s stomach dropped as Billy abandoned the lesson entirely and rushed to your side.

“Look at this little guy,” he cooed, crouching beside the couch, reaching out to scratch under Salem’s tiny chin.

You stirred at the movement, blinking sleepily, eyes soft and warm as you woke to Billy petting the cat.

“Oh,” you yawned, smiling as you stretched. “Morning, Billy.”

“Morning, Salem,” Billy smiled down at the kitten on your chest, still cooing over the kitten.

You giggled, rubbing your cheek against Salem’s tiny head. “He’s the sleepiest boy today, huh?”

“Right?” Billy agreed, reaching to stroke along Salem’s tiny back. “Look at him. He’s just a baby.”

Agatha, still standing stiffly across the room, gawking at the scene in front of her. You never looked at her with that same soft, sleepy adoration after a nap.

And now the two of you were sitting there, utterly obsessed with that ridiculous creature, treating him like he was the most precious thing in the world, while Agatha stood there, forgotten.

The realisation was horrifying. She had been dethroned. Salem, tiny and innocent-looking, had become the true ruler of this household. He had you. He had the coven. And now he had Billy.

She was losing.

Agatha narrowed her eyes. No. She refused to be bested by a kitten.

Billy glanced up at her and grinned. “Agatha, come look at him! Isn’t he just-”

“No.”

Billy blinked. “What?”

Agatha lifted her chin, crossing her arms tighter over her chest. “I don’t fawn over creatures that contribute nothing to the household.”

You pouted, looking up at her through sleepy eyes. “But, Aggie, look at his little toes—”

Agatha looked away. She wouldn’t be tricked.

Billy rolled his eyes. “You’re just mad because Salem has completely stolen your wife.”

Agatha scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Billy smirked. “Then come pet him.”

Agatha froze.

Billy’s smirk widened. “Go on.”

You looked up at her, hopeful, and patted the space next to you. “Come on, baby.”

Agatha hesitated.

Her instincts told her it was a trap.

But then you pouted, soft and irresistible, looking at her with those big, pleading eyes… And just like that, she was moving. Slowly. Cautiously.Like Salem was some ancient being waiting to strike.

She perched stiffly on the edge of the couch, glancing down at the tiny ball of fluff stretched across your chest. He blinked up at her, slow and lazy, like he was daring her to do something.

Agatha exhaled sharply through her nose. Then, after a long moment she reached out, one single finger extended…The second her fingertip brushed against Salem’s fur, the kitten let out a mighty stretch and promptly rolled deeper into your embrace, turning his back on her.

Agatha gasped.

Billy lost it.

“Oh my god, you’ve been rejected.” He wheezed.

Agatha’s eye twitched. “I have not.”

Billy cackled, clutching his stomach. “No, no, this is humiliating. He knows. He knows you don’t like him, and he’s snubbing you.”

You giggled, pressing a kiss to Salem’s tiny head. “Oh, baby, don’t be mad. He just doesn’t trust you yet.”

Agatha bristled. “I don’t need a cat’s trust.”

Billy wheezed. “Oh, you so do.”

Agatha glared at Salem, and to her horror, the kitten simply let out a tiny yawn and promptly fell back asleep. Utterly unbothered. Agatha had never hated anything more in her life.

This was war.

And Agatha Harkness never lost.

~

The room was dimly lit, the air thick with warmth and want. Agatha had you exactly where she wanted- beneath her, lips kiss-swollen, breath coming in soft little pants as she trailed possessive hands down your body.

She smirked, brushing her lips against your ear. “Mine.”

You whimpered, arching into her touch. “Yours.”

A pleased hum rumbled in her throat. “Say it again, baby.”

You shivered, fingers tangling in hair as she kissed down your neck. “All yours, Mommy.”

Agatha’s grip tightened. Finally, after an entire day of being ignored in favor of that creature, she had you back- where you belonged- focused entirely on her.

She dragged her lips back up to yours, capturing them in a deep, claiming kiss.

And then—

A thump.

A chirping meow.

And before Agatha could even process what was happening… A tiny black ball of menace leapt onto the bed.

Your eyes flew open. “Oh my gods!”

Agatha froze.

You gasped, delighted, and immediately sat up, reaching for the little intruder. “My smart boy!”

Agatha’s mouth fell open.

You pushed her away.

For the cat.

Salem, looking entirely too smug, hopped into your lap and headbutted your chin, purring loudly.

You melted. “Oh, you clever little thing,” you cooed, scratching behind his ears. “You figured out the door! Mommy shut you out, didn’t she? But you got in anyway, huh?”

Agatha, still reeling, barely managed to rasp out, “I shut the door.”

You beamed at her. “He’s a genius!”

Agatha scowled. “He’s a problem.”

You weren’t even listening. You were too busy giggling as Salem flopped dramatically onto his back, rolling in your lap, fully aware that he owned you.

Agatha clenched her jaw.

No.

No, she would not allow this to happen.

She reached for you again, slipping a hand under your chin, tilting your face back toward hers. “Come on, baby,” she murmured, voice low and sultry, lips barely brushing yours. “Focus on mommy”.

But just as your lids fluttered, just as you exhaled that soft little sigh that always made her crazy-

Salem chirped and nudged your hand.

And, horrifyingly, your attention snapped back to him, “Ohhh, I know, I know,” you cooed, cradling his tiny face. “You need some loving too, huh?”

Agatha flung herself onto her back, staring at the ceiling like she was being personally victimized by the universe.

“What about my loving?” she demanded, throwing a hand over her forehead like some tragic heroine.

You giggled. “Aggie-”

Salem, with perfect timing, rolled onto his side, stretching just enough to rest a tiny paw against your cheek.

Your heart melted. “Aw, Agatha, look-”

“No.” Agatha sat up, glaring at the kitten. “I refuse to be a secondary character in my own bed.”

You laughed, utterly charmed. “He just loves me, baby.”

Agatha crossed her arms. “I love you.”

You gave her an affectionate smile. “I know you do.”

“Then act like it.”

You giggled again, pressing a kiss to Salem’s little head.

Agatha bristled. “I swear,” she muttered, throwing herself back against the pillows again. “This is witchcraft. He’s bewitched you all.”

You rolled your eyes. “Agatha, he’s just a cat.”

Agatha sat up so fast you startled.

“No,” she said darkly, eyes narrowing at the tiny ball of fluff curled in your lap. “He’s a threat.”

~

The setting sun shone through your windows, casting golden light over the coven as they sat in a circle, discussing plans for the upcoming Summer Solstice ritual.

Agatha, seated in her usual high-backed chair, had you curled in her lap, arms wrapped possessively around your waist. For the first time in days, she finally had you all to herself, without a certain feline dictator demanding your attention.

Because this time, she had planned ahead. The door to the room was magically sealed with the strongest wards she could weave into it. No amount of scratching, meowing, or pathetic manipulation would let that tiny tyrant inside.

She smirked to herself, pleased. Finally.

“So,” Lilia said, gesturing at the books in front of them, “I was thinking we could incorporate more moonstone this year. It should help amplify the energy-”

Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

Agatha ignored it. You, however, perked up instantly, shifting in her lap. “Aw, Salem-”

Agatha’s grip tightened. “No.”

Lilia continued, unfazed. “- and I read somewhere that incorporating fresh lavender in the-”

A tiny, pitiful whimper sounded from the other side of the door. Alice gasped, clutching her chest. “Oh no, the baby!”

You pouted, starting to push yourself up. “Agatha, let me-”

“No,” Agatha repeated, wrapping her arms more securely around you. “Let him cry.”

Billy’s eyes widened in horror. “Agatha, what the hell?!”

You turned, brows furrowing. “Baby, he’s sad.”

“He needs to learn,” Agatha insisted. “We are not interrupting an official coven meeting just because he doesn’t like being excluded.”

Scratch. Scratch.

A heart-wrenching mewl followed.

Billy was already half-standing. “That’s it, I’m getting the little prince-”

Agatha glared, flicking her fingers in Billy’s direction. Billy was immediately shoved back into his seat with an annoyed huff.

“Sit down,” Agatha ordered. “He is not royalty.”

Billy crossed her arms. “He is to me.”

“Yeah,” Jen agreed, flipping a page in her book. “Kinda sounds like you’re being a bad mom.”

Agatha’s eye twitched. “I am not his mother.”

The scratching continued.

You squirmed again. “Aggie, please-”

Agatha huffed in exasperation. “No! You are wrapped around his tiny little paw, and if we keep giving in, he’ll just keep winning.”

Jen raised a brow. “Winning what? He’s a kitten.”

Agatha gestured at you dramatically. “He stole her from me!”

The room went silent.

Then Lilia sighed, rubbing her temples. “Oh my gods”.

Billy cackled. “You *are* losing to a kitten.”

Agatha shot him a look. “I am not losing-”

At that exact moment, Salem let out the most pitiful, heartbroken little cry any of them had ever heard.

Your eyes widened in distress. “Aggie-”

“Oh, for the love of- fine.” With a dramatic wave of her hand, Agatha finally released the spell.

The door flew open.

And in strutted Salem, tail high, eyes smug, like he knew he had just won.

Agatha gawked. “You manipulative little-”

Before she could even finish, you had already scooped Salem up into your arms, cradling him against your chest like a precious treasure.

“Ohhh, baby, I’m so sorry,” you murmured, pressing kisses to his tiny head. “Mommy was so mean to you, huh?”

Agatha’s mouth fell open.

Alice glared at her. “I can’t believe you locked him out.”

Jen snorted. “I can.”

Billy shook his head in disappointment. “Shameful behavior from our fearless leader.”

Agatha scowled as Salem gave her a very deliberate slow blink, curling up in your arms like he owned the place.

Which, apparently, he did.

She exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples. “This is witchcraft.”

Jen snorted. “He’s just a cat, Agatha.”

Agatha shot her a dark look. “He’s a threat.”

Billy immediately fell off his chair laughing.

[natalievoncatte]

Alex rolled onto her side, and was a little surprised to see Kelly Olsen laying next to her, turned away and curled up the Egyptian cotton of her bed

(their bed)

snoozing softly in the morning light. Alex took the time, as one does, to admire the vulpine curves of Kelly’s back and the elegant sweep of her shoulders. She wanted nothing more but to lean in and plant a soft kiss on the back of her neck and wake her, which would hopefully lead into a glorious Saturday morning of sun-kissed, gentle lovemaking that would result in an forgotten breakfast and breathy declarations seared into hot skin with caressing fingers and tasting lips.

Unfortunately her fucking phone was going off.

Alex rolled out of bed and snatched it, relieved that she hadn’t disturbed her girlfriend. She threw on a button-down as a makeshift robe and plodded out into the kitchen.

She wasn’t expecting a call from…

“Lena?”

“Alex?”

“Yeah, what’s up? You don’t call me often.”

“I need help. It’s an emergency. Sort of.”

Alex glanced back at Kelly’s languid form and one long leg slipping out from under the sheets.

“Where’s Kara?”

“I can’t talk to Kara about this. It has to be you, Alex.”

“Okay, sure,” Alex said, warily. “We can grab a coffee later at-“

“Alex, it has to be now and at my place. This is serious.”

Alex bit her lip. There was a compelling urgency to Lena’s voice. Alex didn’t have Kara’s super senses but she could pick up the nervous energy and hint of feed behind the words.

“Okay,” said Alex. “I’m on my way.”

Alex pulled on her cleanest pants and most readily available tank top and scribbled a note for Kelly (encouraging her to either stay in or be back in bed by the time Alex returned, as their business was unfinished) and grabbed her car keys.

Rising her bike would have been… a sore subject, as it were.

Morning traffic was surprisingly light and she made good time. Lena buzzed her up and she walked into Lena’s weirdly cold penthouse, and found her sister’s best friend pacing rapidly back and forth, dressed in a hoodie and hugging herself.

“Okay,” said Alex. “I’m here, Lena. What’s going on?”

“I’m pregnant,” Lena blurted out, before Alex had finished speaking.

Alex stared at her.

“Funny, I always thought you were a virgin.”

Lena glared at her. Alex knew why Kara was so fascinated by her- she had those big pretty eyes that radiated sadness and set off Kara’s protective instincts. Alex had figured out a long time ago that these two dipshits should just bang it out, but it wasn’t really her place to tell them, especially if it meant outing Lena, or dealing with Kara’s baggage from her weirdly fascist home planet and its bizarre ideas about sex.

(One example of said baggage being her sister’s heart breaking over the alien fuckboi from the asshole planet. If only Kara had realized that her gorgeous kind billionaire best friend was in love with her… you know, before the whole world domination Kryptonite laser thing)

(People who aim orbital fusion cannons at their friends should not cast stones, Alex had decided)

“Alex?”

Oh. Lena was talking. Alex pretty much blue screened there.

“Right, you’re pregnant. Are you sure?”

“I’ve taken two tests, and I’m late.”

Alex rubbed at her chin. Lena looked like a drowned rat, more than a little terrified.

Alex swallowed hard.

“Okay, first question. Did someone hurt you?”

Lena looked up sharply. “What? No.”

Standing to pace the room again, Lena rubbed at her arms as if she were cold.

“So um,” said Alex. “Do you need my help with…”

“I just need someone I can talk to that isn’t Kara. I can’t tell her yet.”

Alex swallowed. Hard. “Okay. Tell me what’s going on.”

Lena sighed and stared out her balcony window.

“Do you remember that game night where we all got sloshed, last month?”

“Yeah,” said Alex. “You hosted. As I recall, Kara was the last to leave.

“She didn’t leave. I… I did something stupid. I tried to seduce her, clumsily. I was drunk off my ass.”

Alex tensed, the hairs on the back of her neck rising.

“Oh,” said Alex. “She brushed you off and you went out for a hookup? I’ve done worse. Are things okay between you?”

Lena stared at Alex as if she’d just grown a second head.

“No, Alex. Kara spent the night. She insisted we not do anything intimate until we both sobered up, but I talked her into staying in bed with me.”

Alex sighed. “You got any of that expensive single malt? Your dad’s brand?”

“It’s eleven in the morning.”

“Well, it’s not like you can drink it. You can have juice.”

Lena glared at her. “Cabinet by the fridge.”

Alex ended up pouring two glasses of cranberry juice and sat down at the kitchen island, pushing one over to Lena.

Lena sighed. “I don’t want to get into the details but we were definitely sober when we woke up.”

“And?” said Alex.

“We, um, we had sex,” said Lena.

“And then she got weird and brushed you off and you went out for a hookup?”

“What? No! Just let me finish telling the story.”

Alex sipped her juice, enjoying the bite on her tongue. “Okay.”

“We’ve been sort of seeing each other ever since. Quietly, keeping it to ourselves. Kara is…” Lena sighed, “she’s very protective and she’s afraid that you’ll get upset if you find out we’re together.”

Alex’s fist closed tightly around her glass.

“Lena,” Alex explained, “I’ve forgiven and forgotten a lot from you, but I’m having a hard time understanding how this happened if you’re with my sister. Did you cheat on her?”

Lena looked up sharply from her glass. “What the fuck, Alex? How could you even ask me that? God, am I ever going to be good enough for your sister? I know I fucked up. I know what I did was wrong. Hurting her was the worst thing I have ever done and I would trade anything to take it back, but we are in…”

“Okay,” Alex cut her off. “Fine. Our lives are fucking weird, so I’ll give you the benefit of tbe doubt. But usually you being pregnant would imply that a man was involved somehow.”

Lena blinked. “What?”

“You’re pregnant. There has to be a father.”

Lena stared at her in abject confusion.

Then she said, “Alex, Kara is the father.”

Alex looked at her for too long a moment.

“I’m sorry but what the fuck, Lena? What did you do?”

“What did I do?” Lena demanded. “It’s not my fault! I mean it is as much my fault as it is hers, but we weren’t worrying about protection the first morning and after that neither of us brought it up. I know, I’ve been stupid, I just…”

Alex’s mouth fell open.

“Protection? You and her? What the fuck?”

Lena took a long pull of cranberry juice and winced at the tartness.

“You didn’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Apparently, under a yellow sun, Kryptonians can, um, adapt to a sexual partner’s body.”

“Okay, okay, okay!” Alex snapped, “okay fine my little sister… with you… and you’re pregnant. Fine, we’re on the same page. What now?”

Lena stared at her, biting her lip as she sought answers.

“Are you going to keep it?”

“Keep it?” said Lena. “It’s Kara’s. Of course I will. That’s not even a question. I’m just… I’m scared, Alex. What does this mean? How is she going to react? What if… Jesus, I’m carrying a half-Kryptonian baby. Is that even safe?”

“It worked out fine for Lois and Clark. Twice. You’ll be okay, if having the baby is what you want.”

“It is,” said Lena. “Kara makes me deliriously happy, Alex. She was like a knight in shining armor that night and she was so kind and gentle the next morning and it’s like… like this was natural. We both fell into it so easily that it was like it had always been this way. I love her. I love her so much.”

Lena was red faced, looking embarrassed as she cast her eyes down. Alex reached across the table and took her hands.

“Well, I’m glad you dipshits figured it out. Watching you two blush and stammer at each other for another five years would’ve killed me.”

“ALEX!”

“If you want my blessing, you have it. I’m sorry I doubted you, but in my defense, I didn’t know she could… do… that.”

“Uh, right,” said Lena. “I want to call her and ask her to come over now so I can tell her. I know this should be a private moment but… can you stay? It just feels like you belong here for this.”

“Yeah, Lena. I’ll stay.”

Lena smiled.

[anthurak]

"I'd like to hear him out..."

(credit to @phuezo for the awesome art XD)

So here’s a fun little AU concept for the past couple months since Mastermind aired and people started throwing around ‘What if Charlie (or Lucifer) was at Blitzo’s trial?’ ideas:

What if Vaggie didn’t (entirely) lose her wings to Lute’s attack? Meaning that Charlie actually KNOWS that Vaggie is an angel from the beginning. And leading to Vaggie not hiding her identity by pretending to be a sinner and instead be generally open about her past as an angel and exorcist. Which I think could have some rather interesting ripple effects.

Now I realize it might be a bit headscratching how ‘Vaggie doesn’t lose her wings’ leads to ‘Charlie (and Vaggie) showing up at Blitzo’s trial’, but hear me out.

First off, I think the ‘How’ of this divergence is actually pretty easy to imagine; instead of ripping her wings off, Lute decides to inflict a different kind of sadistic torture on Vaggie. Terribly maiming her wings to prevent her from flying, but still leaving her wings to make it clear just what she is. Basically, Lute and Adam fully expect Vaggie to be torn apart by vengeful demons.

But in true dramatically ironic fashion, Vaggie is NOT found by the ‘evil, terrible demons’ that Lute and Adam (and even Vaggie herself) were expecting, but by Charlie Morningstar. And I think we can all agree that Vaggie happening to have a pair of angel wings would NOT meaningfully change Charlie’s reaction to finding her in the slightest.*

Charlie still basically falls for Vaggie at first sight, takes her in and patches her up and gives her a home. And in this version, after it becomes clear that Vaggie’s wings aren’t healing, Charlie also calls in a favor from Uncle Ozzie to design some cool cybernetics/prosthetics to give Vaggie full wing-functionality back. And after a while, Charlie and Vaggie fall in love and start dating just like they did in canon, possibly even sooner/stronger given that Vaggie doesn’t have the specter of hiding who she is from Charlie hanging over her in this version.

And this is where we get to one of those interesting ripple-effects of this change.

Because I think it is VERY likely (as in, I imagine we’ll actually see this come up in the actual show) that Charlie’s belief in sinner-redemption and drive to help sinners in large part came from Vaggie. Specifically in that Charlie believed that Vaggie was a sinner. As in, Charlie falling in love with someone who she thought was a sinner was a MAJOR factor in Charlie believing that sinners could be redeemed and general drive to help them.

Now obviously I’m not suggesting that Vaggie was the only reason or that Charlie wouldn’t care about the sinners otherwise. At the same time, I think it’s a bit ridiculous to assume that Charlie believing the woman she loves was a sinner all that time wasn’t a major contributor to her motivation in ‘making a hotel to redeem sinners’. Or that Charlie knowing Vaggie WASN’T a sinner from the beginning couldn’t put her on a different path…

Basically, this version of events with Charlie falling in love with ‘Vaggie the fallen angel/former exorcist’ instead of ‘Vaggie the human sinner’ ends up rippling out to lead Charlie to focus not on the problems of the human sinners, but rather the problems faced by the hellborn demons.

Say for example; because Charlie knows that Vaggie is an angel, and thus almost certainly NOT bound to the Pride Ring, the pair end up taking a few trips/dates to see the other rings. Particularly given that Vaggie already know Asmodeus.

But in the process of these trips, Charlie starts noticing many of the issues faced by the hellborn demons. Many of which she doesn’t remember from back when her father was running things…

Basically this ties into another theory I’ve had since Mastermind that a lot of the societal issues we see in Helluva Boss are the result of, or at least have been heavily exacerbated by, Lucifer’s long ABSENCE from ruling thanks to his centuries-long depressed isolation. Something that I think Mastermind pretty heavily hints at given everything we see from Satan in that episode. And that at some point, Hazbin Hotel is going to show Charlie having to DEAL with many of these issues as part of her arc of growing into a leader and future ruler of Hell.

And in this version of events, instead of being drawn to wanting to help the human sinners, Charlie is drawn to wanting to help the hellborn demons. Basically, since her father clearly isn’t doing his job, perhaps SHE should step up and try doing it instead?

And of course, Vaggie is right at her side through ALL of this. In fact, she may even be a bit more gung-ho about it, given that it probably feels to her a bit more feasible than ‘redeeming sinners’.

This all leads to Charlie pushing herself not so much into ‘replacing’ her father outright as ‘ruler’ of Hell, but rather starting to assume a kind of regency position. Not full-on ‘ruling’ (yet), but still starting to assume some of the roles and duties that her father has been neglecting for a couple hundred years.

And the fun thing is that nobody is really able to stop Charlie from doing any of this. After all, she IS the princess and heir apparent of the Morningstars, meaning she is well within her rights to assume a number of roles of her father. Particularly as Charlie makes it very clear that she is not trying to outright supplant her father, but is simply assuming duties that he’s been neglecting. To the point of keeping the title of ‘Princess’, or maybe ‘Princess Regent’.

Sure, some/most/all of the Goetia/other nobility might not like a lot of the ideas and goals Charlie is talking about, such as ‘Maybe the Imps, Hellhounds, etc AREN’T actually lesser and born to serve the nobility and shouldn’t be treated as such’, but there also isn’t really anything they can do to STOP her or remove her from her new position. After all, the only one with the authority truly above Charlie’s is Lucifer himself.**

And the nobles who do make a scene and/or pitch a hissy fit about Charlie’s ‘radical ideas’ tend to find themselves at the business-end of her girlfriend’s spear, sword or divinely-mailed fist. Really, in this situation Vaggie is a pretty big fucking deal all on her own, being a fallen angel and all. Certainly NOBODY is going to be judging Charlie on her choice of romantic partner. Well, maybe some sinners might judge her for dating a former exorcist, but any Hellborn demons, even the Goetia? No fucking way. Really, people would probably be making comments on how Charlie is taking after her mother.

Heck, even in the short time since Charlie started this endeavor, Vaggie’s probably earned her own title or two. ‘Blade of the Morningstar’? ‘Wings of the Princess’?

Of course it’s also worth noting that there are still some pretty hard limits to what Charlie can accomplish in terms of fixing/reforming the issues of hellish society, at least in the short term. She can’t just snap her fingers and fix classism or completely wipe out the Goetia’s authority (or the Goetia themselves). Particularly as Charlie doesn’t have the ultimate overriding authority of her father. Realistically, Charlie’s authority as Princess/Regent only just supersedes that of any of the Sins, and while that might put her above effectively ANY other one person in Hell, it also doesn’t give her absolute ‘do anything I want’ authority either. Not to mention that this is still Charlie we’re talking about, who in this timeline is still only JUST getting use to throwing her authorial weight around.

But at the same time, again there really isn’t anything anyone can do to fully STOP Charlie from doing anything either. Meaning that in the short time since assuming her new role as regent, say about a year or two, Charlie has already started making small but noticeable changes and ripples to Hell’s society.

Which brings us to this new version of Mastermind, with Charlie and Vaggie making a surprise appearance at Blitzo’s trial and Charlie actually wanting to hear the imp out. This leads to a number of other fun changes including but not limited to:

Charlie invoking both ‘Princess Regent Authority’ and ‘Favorite Niece Privileges’ to get all of the Sins voting on her side to hear Blitzo out and override literally all of the Goetia royalty.

Andy-the-not-actually-a-sister-fucker pitching a hissy fit over this and getting choke-slammed and almost speared by Vaggie.

Blitzo still finding a way to fuck up this golden opportunity by running his mouth. Because this is still Blitzo we’re talking about, and giving him a chance to talk is ALSO giving him a chance to dig himself into a deeper hole.

Stolas choosing the exact worst (and funniest) moment to dramatically burst in with his big, dramatic ‘sacrifice myself for the man I love via song number’ gambit, which actually only makes things worse/wackier when Charlie starts asking pertinent questions.

Andy pitching more hissy fits as his plans continue to unravel and getting repeatedly chokeslammed and/or kicked in the dick by Vaggie.

Striker getting dragged back in when it becomes clear there are a LOT of holes in his story, only to constantly flip-flop on his story because he can’t figure out which authority figure(s) he should be selling-out-to/kissing-up-to in order to save his own skin.

Charlie, Vaggie and even Satan becoming ever more flabbergasted as it becomes clear that the suspect (Blitzo), prosecution (Andre), defense (Stolas) and witness (Striker) in this trial are in fact ALL complete fucking idiots.

--

*Admittedly I do have one other possible change in mind to help reinforce this: rather than a sinner child, Vaggie actually spares an imp kid, or perhaps a sinner child and their imp kid best friend. Which leads to the imp kid actually leading Charlie to the injured Vaggie and also telling her that this angel actually helped them and got hurt doing so.*** Which again serves to reinforce just how wrong Adam and Lute and much of heaven are about demons.

** And if you’re going to ask ‘Why doesn’t Charlie just go to her dad directly and get him to do his job?’, remember that Charlie had to be practically dragged kicking and screaming by her girlfriend into calling up Lucifer for help in Hazbin. I think it’s pretty clear that pre-Hazbin, if Charlie can get what she’s after without getting her dad involved, she is ABSOLUTELY going to do it.

*** Also this hypothetical imp kid doesn’t actually show up again and DOES in fact have a living family, meaning that NO, Charlie and Vaggie DON’T ADOPT THEM. Because I KNOW that is exactly what some of you started thinking when I mentioned an unattended child in relative proximity to our heroines.

--

And of course, once again HUGE thanks to @phuezo for the awesome art of Charlie and Vaggie XD

[dannielricciardo]

hijacking this post to remind everyone how that announcement went and the absolute insanity that was the lead up to the announcement.

in the lead up to the hiatus, fall out boy has been pronounced washed, folie was the worst album of all time, people would literally boo songs from it on the tour and at one point if i recall correctly, alex from all time low had to make a speech at one of the stops that booing your headliner is not cool and brings the vibes down monumentally (also on that tour, and i am not joking, was metro station). with this farewell, fall out boy call it a day, seemingly absolutely dejected, and embark on various solo projects like the damndest things, soul punk and a pop duo with bebe rexha (yes that one).

then patrick posts "we liked you better fat", a devastating piece on how he can never live up to who he was in fall out boy - "there’s no amount of money that makes you feel better when people think of you as a joke or a hack or a failure or ugly or stupid or morally empty.[...] I’m a touring artist and I feel I’ve become incapable of touring anymore with any act. [...] there will still be 10-20 percent of the audience there to tell me how shitty whatever it is I’m doing is and how much better the thing I used to do was. Not only that, but that 10-20 percent combined with whatever notoriety Fall Out Boy used to have prevents me from having the ability to start over from the bottom again. I can’t even go back to playing basement shows. As the saying goes: I couldn’t get booked at the opening of a letter." (source. yes, this is on tumblr. pete and patrick were on tumblr answering asks.)

brutally depressing. the public finally realizes that wait a damn minute! these people who were boo'd, ridiculed and made a joke, were actually not some paper dolls but humans with feelings. there's a public outcry of support. here's a reblog of the original post, you can scroll down and see the replies. we hear nothing after that. pete is best man at patrick's wedding. we hear nothing after that.

and then. on 25th january 2013, a then prolific bandom blog, property of zack breaks an exclusive that fall out boy reunion is imminent. that is right, the news that fall out boy is coming back appeared on tumblr first. you would not believe the pull this website used to have.

immediately, the entirety of bandom loses their minds. this is still a time when AbsolutePunk is the place to be when it comes to discussing all things pop punk.

now, if you think likes/replies on insta/tiktok/tw**ter are cool interactions with your fave, you havent been on absolutepunk, solely because this is the only forum where you could find pete wentz randomly quote replying to you in a long ass chain that would inevitably end up with you being banned for being sassy to jason tate. absolutepunk was where EVERYONE went. you found the new bands on absolute punk, you saw mark hoppus comment on a jimmy eat world review, you posted how TTTYG is the only good thing fall out boy has produced.

of course, since nothing every happens™️, absolutepunk declares that zack is pulling shit out of his ass for clicks, zack is in the comments fighting for his live saying "mf just you wait", jason tate is being iffy about it but maybe believes zack? and the general vibe is "yea. sure. reunion. that same band that keeps saying they aren't broken up. w/e man". joe denies it on tw***er almost immediately. if i recall correctly, pete also denied it on the absolutepunk thread.

two weeks later, a message appears on falloutboyrock.com (yes. the website back then was this. since as far back as i can remember):

A MESSAGE FROM PETE, PATRICK, ANDY & JOE

when we were kids the only thing that got us through most days was music. its why we started fall out boy in the first place. this isn't a reunion because we never broke up. we needed to plug back in and make some music that matters to us.

the future of fall out boy starts now.

save rock and roll...-

people were losing their minds. pop up shows sold out in minutes. i've never seen such hysterics in bandom before. you all know the rest. those 10 days between PoZ leaking and the real announcement were the longest 10 days ever. 10 years later, they are still a band. much to think about.

you can take a breath now. happy return day!

[acerathia]

essence || Sylus | Qin Che

Summary:

It has been some time since the last message you have received from Sylus. And that's way too long. So, once you check on him, you find him in quite a predicament and decide to help him out a little.

Wordcount: 2.6k

Read on AO3

Pairing:

Sylus | Qin Che / f!Reader | MC

Tags/CW:

Minors and Ageless Blogs DNI!! pwp, mildly dubious consent (bc is any consent ever not dubious if ruts are involved?), aphrosidiacs/sex pollen, he's in a rut, nipple play, cunnilingus, soft femdom (i think lol), thigh fucking, prone bone, praise, piv, cockwarming, soo much desire and lust waow, sprinkles of spoilers of his myth (implied), they're sooo soulmates

Note:

dragon............ yeah *thumbs up*

The N109 Zone is a No-Hunt-Zone. A place that is supposed to be filled with fluctuations and wanderers. Yet, the reason for its name weren’t the wandering abnormalities, but the factions, filled with desire to spread their power, and because of the difficulty entering it in the first place.

You remember how you got yourself into this place in the first place. But now, you don’t need to resort to such actions anymore. Not with Sylus, who will always have your back. Sylus who has not contacted you in some time, leaving you worried and tense, waiting for any sign of life. Until you couldn’t stand staring at your phone anymore. You had to look for him yourself if he didn’t answer your messages. There must be something wrong, right?

Even if you know how capable Sylus is, anxiety is something you cannot simply fend off, not without reassurance that he is safe and sound. And currently, that exactly is missing. This is why you have gotten onto your motorcycle and are racing towards the N109 Zone, your eyes occasionally flitting around, looking for Mephisto. But the skilled crow that is usually observing you at all times seems to have gone up in the air.

There’s barely any time for you to properly park your motorcycle before you practically storm into his home. Opening every door shouting his name, until you stop in front of the one belonging to his bedroom. Despite your hurry, you raise your hand to knock.

“Sylus? Are you there?”

A rustle and a low grunt. “What are you doing here, sweetheart?”

Your hand on the doorknob, slowly opening the door. “You worried me… You– you haven’t answered me in two days, what was I supposed to do…”

“There’s nothing to worry about, I’ve been rather… preoccupied lately. That’s it. You can go back now.”

His words rough, like he’s suppressing, hiding something. You furrow your eyebrows. This only raises your concern, as there has never been any instance where Sylus, your Sylus would have sent you away, just like that. And even if he did, he would be truthful to you about why.

So, even with his subtle instruction, you enter his room fully. And the heat presses against your skin. The moment you feel the choking warmth, you make your way to the next window to open it and to let some fresh air in. But you barely have cracked it open, when a hand grabs your waist, pulling you towards him.

The heat is pouring out of him, almost like he’s made of fire itself. His arms wrap around you, pressing you tightly to his own body, his face nuzzling into the soft skin of your neck, inhaling sharply.

“This was a mistake, you should have listened to me… I don’t know if I can hold back,” he murmurs, his teeth scraping against your jugular.

“Sylus… What happened?” you ask, hands cupping his head carefully to lead him to look at you.

He presses his face against your palm, eyes half-lidded. “An operation has veered slightly off-course. Nothing major, just brought some bothersome consequences. This should be over soon…”

Before you could offer your help in any capacity, he had already dragged you onto his lap, his lips kissing along your throat. Softness, before the sharpness digs into your flesh, his sharp canines scraping your skin, marking you at the soft spot where your shoulder meets your neck.

A gasp escapes you, and your fingers pull slightly at his hair, making him look up to you once again. Only to be met with hazy eyes, dark and filled with desire, cheeks slightly flushed. The way Sylus looks at you makes something stir in you, and your thoughts disappear in smoke, as you simply sink your lips against his, tasting him and his wants. His slack jaw makes it easier to get your tongue into his mouth, caressing his, exploring him tooth by tooth, their unusual sharpness digging and dragging.

His hands on your hips, moving you so easily with his strength, trapping you underneath him, kiss uninterrupted, his mouth devouring every bit of you. All he can think of is you and the way you feel underneath his touch, the way your body fits against his, like a piece of his soul returned to him.

Weight pressing against your body, comfort yet heady and exhilarating. You take his hand and lead him to touch your skin underneath your shirt, encouraging his raging desires he desperately tried to repress, stoking the flames bubbling in his veins. And it seems to work, his fingertips clutching you, but at the same time, this simple touch is not enough for him; thoughts consumed by you, you, you.

With a single jerk of his hand, Sylus has ripped your shirt, exposing your torso to his blazing eyes trailing over every bit of you; and to his greedy teeth, digging into soft flesh soon after.

“That’s good, take your fill,” you pant, your hand cupping his jaw to allow him to grab more of you.

He murmurs your name over and over again. Until you stop him from descending lower than your collarbones.

“Patience. C’mon, take your clothes off for me,” you direct him softly, tugging at his shirt, raising your foot to press against his bulge. “Show me your desire.”

The simple touch evokes a rumbling groan out of him and you feel him twitch against your sole. His eyes meet yours, hunger barely restrained by your words. Yet, Sylus listens to you, grabbing the hem of his shirt to slowly pull it over his head, muscles moving with each motion, tense and squeezing. Truly what a sight, one meant just for you.

Throwing it aside, he reaches for his belt, unbuckling it with a low hiss, followed closely by the sound of a zipper. With a shuffle, he slides his pants off, and you can see the outline of his length, pressing desperately against the cloth covering him. His fingers find the waistband, but you hold your hand up.

“That’s enough, come here.”

You stretch your arms towards him and he immediately sinks into your embrace, his face nuzzling against your neck, teeth scraping against skin. Your fingers drive through his hair while your leg is applying slight pressure against his bulge, rubbing and nudging, eliciting a groan out of him.

“My darling, do tell, what do you want?” you ask him in a breathy voice, your own needs intensifying just by seeing him in this state, completely in your hand.

“You, I want you, only you, I want to burn in your touch, feeling you, and nothing else. May I, my love? I don’t know how long I can hold out without piecing our souls together…” he murmurs, voice hoarse and it almost seems like his current desire mingles with one from the past, yet still towards you, always you, the only one able to truly touch his essence.

You hum, cocking your head to give him more room for his mouth against your jugular. “Do you want to show me? How you would devour me? Then, I suppose I can give you permission to do what you want, just for now.”

The moment these words leave your mouth, his teeth sinking into your flesh, leaving stinging indents behind; and you wonder if he’s coating his tongue in your blood, if the sweetness of your skin makes his head dizzy, his desires overflowing.

His mouth travels, savoring each inch of you, biting, nibbling, not leaving any skin untouched, aching and desperate. Lips latching on your nipples as soon as he kissed his way towards him, sucking, licking, tasting, his lips teasing and caressing. Meanwhile, his hand has found the other one, fingers pressing delicately, before twisting, feeling the way you twitch underneath his touch, his ministrations. And you feel the pads of his fingers hot against your skin, much hotter than a normal human would feel.

After hearing you gasp his name a couple of times, hands buried in his hair, Sylus continues on his way, leaving a trail over your tummy, a proof of his existence, just for you. And soon, he meets the waistband of your pants, the ones gone as fast as you could even think about them, leaving you with your already soaked panties. His hands grab your thighs to pry them apart and to reveal your desires to him, the way your throbbing core wants him, needs him. He lowers his head, only to nuzzle it against your thigh, looking up to you with lidded eyes, almost like he’s asking for permission.

“You deserve it, take a taste, and please me,” you smile, nodding your head once as encouragement.

Taking your words and immediately diving in, his tongue lapping at your clit over the damp cloth, tasting your desire for him. Despite the slight barrier, he doesn’t take your panties off, rather, he continues to lick your core like that, sucking at your throbbing bud, tip of tongue savoring you with each motion, with each touch. Your thighs are pressing against his head, hips bucking, in need for more and more of him.

You grab his hair and pull slightly at him. “F-fuck. Do it properly, will you?” You try to hide the slight whiny tone in your voice, needy and desperate for more.

Instead of words, his teeth dig into the soft flesh of your thigh, at the connection between your pelvis and leg. While putting his mark on you, he slowly slides your panties down to the middle of your thighs, just leaving enough space for him to fit between your legs.

And heeding your words, the moment he’s within reach, his flattened tongue caresses your aching clit, sucking at your most sensitive spot, making you more and more tense with each swipe, with each pass between your sticky folds. The tip of his tongue teases your clenching opening, drawing a moan of his name out of you, highlighting the emptiness inside of you, yearning for him to fill you and complete you.

With his careful ministrations, his knowledge about you immeasurable, touching you in every way you like, in every way leading you closer and closer towards the edge. Until the right time, the right pressure, and the sight of him between your thighs, eyes hazy with lust yet focused on you and your own wants, and you unravel on his tongue, feeling yourself gush over his mouth, and all he does is drink you up, devour you entirely.

You throw your head back, shivering as you continue to feel his tongue against you, licking everything seeping out of you with eagerness, moans vibrating against your skin.

“Ah, Sylus! Fuck… Mmh. Well done…” you murmur, tugging at his hair, only to let your fingernails scrape his scalp carefully. “Hm, what a good boy you are. You can choose how you want to take me.”

After one last kiss, he raises himself, and he’s towering over you, all muscle and strength, and yet powerless underneath your touch and your words. With ease he grabs your hips and turns you around, your chest hitting the mattress. You barely can hold yourself on your knees, as he leads his length towards your entrance. But instead of entering your needy cunt, he lets himself glide through your folds, his tips bumping against your clit, rubbing and caressing, the veins throbbing against you, making you clench around nothing. Desire overtaking him, as he leans down, his chest pressing against your back, his lips touching the nape of your neck, moans of your name filling your marrow, while one of his hands caresses your chest, pinching your nipple.

You whimper at the way he seems to hit your sensitive spots just right. “C’mon, make me feel good, won’t you?”

These words seem to spur Sylus on, as you feel him twitch between your thighs. And at this, you can’t help but rub your soft skin against him. “Hm, show me how you would fuck me, though. Fuck my thighs for me, yeah?” You change directions, feeling excited at the thought of him climaxing purely due to your softness and nothing else.

His hips sputter for a moment, only to pick up the pace, as you press your thighs closely together, leaving just enough space for him to get off on. His cock slides against your softness, twitching and throbbing, hips rutting, seeking his own high, pleasing himself on your body with your permission, enjoying the way your skin rubs against his veins, caressing the tip of his cock; the way your flesh molds to him, and only him. And he can’t help but imagine how it might feel to be enveloped in your warmth, to fill you to the core. Just the picture of his length being buried to the hilt in you instead of just rubbing against your supple thighs, combined with the pressure you have been continuously applying, imitating the clench you have been feeling with each jerk of his, makes him climax, sputtering ropes against your torso, yet he continues to buck his hips, seeking more friction, more you, moaning your name over and over again, his reason to exist.

You don’t give him proper downtime as you rub your hips against his, feeling him harden once again. Your mere existence is enough for him to want and want and want. “Do you want to cum inside me? Do you want to please me, to feel me? Hm? Then do it, let me feel you.”

Teeth sink into your shoulder and he doesn’t hesitate to align his length against your entrance, aching for him. The moment his tip enters you, you feel overwhelmed, his cock filling you slowly with each languid stroke, until you can barely breath, his being taking over you entirely, making your head spin from pleasure and want. His hips against yours, and you can’t help but grind yourself against him, seeking more and more, and Sylus doesn’t want anything more than you and your pleasure, to see you come undone over his cock. So, he begins to move, pulling out carefully, only to push himself back in at the perfect angle, hitting your soft spot, making you see stars and moan his name. With each motion of his hips, the speed takes up until he settles for something you truly seem to enjoy, while taking good care of you. At the same time, he carefully grabs your face, turning you towards him to capture your lips in his, hot and heavy, tongue lapping against tongue, spit and moans, teeth dragging and digging, devouring you with his fierceness.

His weight slowly shifts on you as his hand wanders between your legs, spreading your folds carefully to touch your clit with his fingertips, to draw the motions and get the loudest noises out of you. Each flick and jerk barely controlled, just with the intent to draw out the tension, to wind you up underneath his touch. And with the right pressure and a deep stroke into your cunt, you come apart, clenching around him as you moan his name in wanton. The sudden tightness around him draws a grunt out of him, his lips kissing your shoulders, before letting his incisors once again mark your flesh, his thrusts growing erratic with each passing, until everything releases, flowing out of him and warming you up, his cock to the hilt buried inside you, right where he belongs.

With this, he lets himself slump fully towards you, arms circling your waist, as he drags you down to the mattress, face in your neck, refusing to let go of you, murmuring confessions of love and resonance of your being. And as much as Sylus would never want to part with you, you would never part with him; you both share a soul, living without the other impossible. That is your fate, the one you choose; to be with him for the rest of all times.

[saebyeokbliss]

ONCE MORE TO SEE YOU— PART XII.

synopsis: on a cold january day, you were worrying about the reason your girlfriend wasn’t texting back. when she finally does and asks to meet at your apartment, you’re met with heartbreak as she ends your relationship. no explanation. two years later, you run into her at a cafe with someone new. what are you to do?

warnings: violence, death, use of weapons, mild language

pairing: sae-byeok x fem!reader

The address from the photo led Sae-byeok to a run-down warehouse on the outskirts of the city, a place she knew all too well. It was where Deok-su and his gang used to operate when she was still part of their crew. The building hadn’t changed much—graffiti plastered the rusted metal walls, and the faint smell of oil and mildew lingered in the air. Memories she’d buried long ago clawed their way to the surface as she approached, but she shoved them down.

This wasn’t about her past. This was about you.

The faint sound of laughter echoed from inside as she pushed the heavy door open, her footsteps echoing on the concrete floor. A dim, flickering light illuminated the space, and in the center of the room was Deok-su. He lounged in a chair, his legs spread wide, the same smug grin plastered across his face as always. Behind him, you were tied to another chair, your head slumped forward, your hair hiding your face. The sight of you—bruised, bloodied, and so still—made Sae-byeok’s chest tighten with rage.

“Well, well,” Deok-su drawled, spreading his arms as he stood. “If it isn’t Kang Sae-byeok. I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Sae-byeok’s jaw tightened, her eyes flicking briefly to you before settling back on him. “Let her go.”

Deok-su laughed, the sound low and grating. “Now, where’s the fun in that? You think you can just walk in here and start giving orders? You must’ve forgotten how things work around here.”

“I remember,” Sae-byeok said coldly, taking another step forward. “You want your money. That’s all this is about, right?”

He smirked, tilting his head as if considering her words. “You’ve always been sharp. That’s what I liked about you. Shame you turned out to be such a traitorous little bitch.”

Her hands curled into fists at her sides, but she forced herself to stay calm. “How much?”

“Ten million won,” he said without hesitation, his grin widening. “You remember that job you bailed on? That’s how much it cost me. And now, I’m just here to collect what’s mine.”

Sae-byeok’s expression didn’t waver, though her mind was racing. Ten million won. That was a massive sum, but she’d prepared for this. She’d brought everything she had, emptied every account she’d managed to scrape together, even if it left her with nothing.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a thick envelope, tossing it onto the ground in front of him. “Take it and let her go.”

Deok-su raised an eyebrow, stepping forward to pick up the envelope. He thumbed through the bills, his grin faltering slightly as he counted. “Huh. I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” he muttered, slipping the money into his jacket. “Guess you’re still good for something after all.”

“Now let her go,” Sae-byeok demanded, her voice low and sharp.

Deok-su waved a hand lazily, and one of the men standing nearby moved to untie you. You slumped forward when the ropes loosened, and Sae-byeok was at your side in an instant, catching you before you hit the ground.

“Hey,” she said softly, her hands shaking slightly as she cupped your face. “Are you okay?”

You blinked up at her, your eyes glassy and unfocused, but the relief on your face when you recognized her was unmistakable. “S-Sae…” you mumbled, your voice hoarse.

She nodded, gently brushing your hair out of your face. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

But before she could help you to your feet, a low chuckle from Deok-su made her freeze.

“You think this is over?” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “You think you can just walk out of here with her and everything’s fine?”

Sae-byeok turned to glare at him, her body tense. “I gave you what you wanted. We’re done.”

“Oh, no, Kang,” he said, shaking his head. “We’re far from done.”

The sound of footsteps echoed around the warehouse as more of Deok-su’s men emerged from the shadows, surrounding you and Sae-byeok. There were at least six of them, their faces twisted with malice as they closed in.

Sae-byeok stood slowly, positioning herself between you and the approaching men. She pulled her pocketknife from her jacket, the blade gleaming faintly in the dim light.

“You really want to do this?” she asked, her voice icy.

Deok-su smirked. “Oh, I’ve been waiting for this.”

The first man lunged at her, but Sae-byeok was faster. She sidestepped his attack, slashing his arm with the knife before shoving him to the ground. Another came at her from the side, but she spun, driving her elbow into his face with a sickening crack.

“Stay down,” she barked, her voice cold and commanding.

Behind her, you managed to free your hands from the loosened ropes, your body trembling as you scrambled to your feet. Another man rushed toward Sae-byeok, but you grabbed a nearby metal pipe and swung it with all your strength, hitting him in the side. He crumpled to the ground with a groan, and you stared at the pipe in your hands, your chest heaving.

“Nice hit,” Sae-byeok muttered, glancing back at you briefly before turning her attention to the remaining men.

The fight was chaotic and brutal. Sae-byeok moved like a predator, her movements precise and calculated as she took down one man after another. You held your own as best you could, using the pipe to fend off anyone who got too close.

Finally, only Deok-su was left.

Deok-su grinned, pulling out a knife of his own as he stepped forward. “You’ve got some fight in you,” he said. “I’ll give you that. But you’re not walking out of here alive.”

“We’ll see about that,” Sae-byeok said, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

He lunged at her, his movements fast and brutal, but she was faster. She dodged his attack, slashing at his side with her knife. He grunted in pain but didn’t stop, swinging his blade wildly as he tried to overpower her.

The fight was messy, both of them landing blows as they grappled and fought. Blood dripped from a cut on Sae-byeok’s arm, but she didn’t let it slow her down. She ducked under one of his swings, driving her knee into his stomach before shoving him back.

“You always thought you were better than us,” Deok-su snarled, clutching his side as he glared at her. “But you’re just as dirty as the rest of us.”

“No,” Sae-byeok said, her voice cold. “I’m better because I don’t need people like you.”

With that, she surged forward, her knife plunging into his chest. His eyes widened in shock, a choked gasp escaping his lips as he staggered back. She twisted the blade, her expression hard and unrelenting as she watched the life drain from his eyes.

He collapsed to the ground, his knife clattering beside him. For a moment, the warehouse was silent, the remaining gang members frozen in place as they stared at their fallen leader.

Then, one by one, they turned and ran, disappearing into the shadows.

Sae-byeok stood there for a moment, her chest heaving as she stared at Deok-su’s lifeless body. The weight of what she’d done settled over her, but instead of guilt, she felt… peace. Finally, he couldn’t hurt anyone else.

“Sae,” your voice broke through her thoughts, shaky and weak. She turned to see you leaning against the wall, the metal pipe still clutched in your hands.

She crossed the room in a few quick strides, pulling you into her arms. “It’s over,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. “You’re safe now.”

You nodded against her shoulder, your body trembling as the weight of everything crashed down on you. But for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed her.

The ride back to your apartment was quiet, the silence between you and Sae-byeok thick with unspoken words. She hadn’t let go of you since the warehouse—not when she helped you into the car, not when she wrapped her jacket around your trembling shoulders, and not when she guided you up the stairs to your apartment. Her grip was firm, steady, like she was afraid you might collapse or disappear if she let go.

When you reached your door, you fumbled with the keys, your hands still trembling from the ordeal. Sae-byeok took them from you gently, unlocking the door herself before pushing it open. She didn’t ask if she could come in; she just followed you inside, closing the door behind her.

“Sit down,” she said quietly, nodding toward the couch.

You hesitated, your body stiff with exhaustion and lingering fear, but the look in her eyes left no room for argument. You sat down, sinking into the cushions as she disappeared into the kitchen. A moment later, she returned with a damp cloth and a small first aid kit she must have found in one of your drawers.

“Let me see,” she said, kneeling in front of you and reaching for your arm.

You flinched slightly at her touch, the events of the night still fresh in your mind. But when you looked at her—at the way her brow furrowed in concentration, at the gentleness in her hands as she dabbed at the dried blood on your face—you let your guard down. You let her clean the cuts on your cheek and bandage the scrapes on your arms, her silence somehow more comforting than words ever could have been.

When she was done, she sat back on her heels, her eyes scanning your face as if to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. You stared at her for a long moment, the question that had been nagging at you since the warehouse finally spilling out.

“Why was Deok-su after you?” you asked, your voice quiet but firm.

Sae-byeok froze, her expression hardening slightly as she looked away. For a moment, you thought she wasn’t going to answer. But then she sighed, sitting back against the coffee table and running a hand through her hair.

“He wanted money,” she said finally, her voice low. “Ten million won. I owed him from… before.”

“Before what?” you pressed, leaning forward slightly. “Sae-byeok, what did you do?”

She hesitated, her jaw tightening as she stared at the floor. “When I first came to Korea, I fell in with the wrong people. Deok-su’s crew. They… helped me make ends meet. But it came with a price. I owed them for jobs I couldn’t finish, for money I couldn’t pay back. When I finally left, I thought I was free. But people like him—they don’t forget.”

Her words hung heavy in the air, and you felt a knot form in your stomach. “Is that why you left me?” you asked quietly, your voice trembling. “Because of him?”

“It was part of it,” she admitted, her eyes meeting yours for the first time. “But it wasn’t the whole reason.”

“Then what was the rest of it?” you demanded, your voice rising slightly despite yourself. “Why did you leave, Sae-byeok? Why didn’t you just tell me?”

She looked at you then, really looked at you, and for the first time, you saw a crack in the armor she always wore so carefully. Her eyes softened, her shoulders slumping slightly as if the weight of her secrets had finally become too much to bear.

“The games,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “That’s where I met Ji-yeong and Gi-hun. I… I had to try. I needed the money for Cheol, to get him out of the orphanage, to get us to safety. But there was no guarantee I’d make it out alive. And if I didn’t… I didn’t want you to mourn me. I didn’t want you to carry that.”

You stared at her, your mind reeling. You’d heard whispers about the games—rumors of something underground, violent, and deadly—but you’d never imagined Sae-byeok could have been a part of something like that.

“And the money you gave me?” you asked, your voice shaking. “The money that saved my life—was that from the games too?”

She nodded slowly, her expression unreadable. “It was all I had left.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, and you shook your head, anger and disbelief bubbling to the surface. “You should have told me,” you said, your voice trembling with frustration. “You should have told me everything from the beginning, Sae-byeok. I could have helped you. We could have figured it out together. But instead, you just… left.”

“I couldn’t,” she said, her voice sharp and pained. “You don’t understand—”

“No, you’re right,” you interrupted, your voice rising. “I don’t understand. Because you never gave me the chance to.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, you felt her grab your face and pull you toward her. Her lips crashed against yours in a kiss that was desperate, raw, and utterly consuming. It wasn’t gentle or tentative—it was the kind of kiss that carried everything she couldn’t say, every apology, every regret, every unspoken feeling she’d buried over the years.

For a moment, you were too stunned to react. But then you felt yourself melt into her, your hands gripping the front of her jacket as if you were afraid she might disappear again. The anger and frustration you’d felt just moments ago seemed to dissolve, replaced by something softer, something you’d thought you’d lost the day she walked out of your life.

When she finally pulled away, her forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing heavily. Her hands lingered on your face for a moment before she pulled back entirely, her expression unreadable once again.

“Sae-byeok—”

“I should go,” she said quietly, cutting you off. She stood, grabbing her jacket and heading for the door before you could stop her.

“Sae, wait—”

But she didn’t. She opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, closing it behind her without another word.

You sat there in stunned silence, your mind racing as you tried to process everything that had just happened. The kiss, her confession, the way she’d looked at you like she was breaking apart. And then the way she’d left, like she always did.

Like she didn’t know how to stay.

taglist: @monroesturnns@everly-summers-solace@holyshtimgay@knfthxv@delfinadolphin@madebysae@jetaimeeeee@m0rtifiedg0th@katieschry1@erika-mon2-blog@tcvazq

[audliminal]

Survivability Bias Pt 7

Masterpost - Ao3

Danny’s on his morning run when he notices the buzzing in his pocket. He stops short, stepping off to the side of the path, so he’s not in anyone’s way. It’s odd, having a phone again. He’s long since buried his old phone in his backpack. It died weeks ago, and he doesn’t really see any point in trying to charge it, when it can’t fulfill it’s primary purpose. The new phone from Robin is clearly far more advanced. It’s weird, having to use a touch screen, and Danny really hasn’t fiddled with it much. He doesn’t really know who’s paying for the service, but he’d rather not test their patience with accidental charges. So he’s only messaged Robin, and only to respond, on the few occasions Robin has had follow-up questions. Now, he pulls the phone out of his pocket, wondering what Robin needs, but instead of a contact name, the text notification lists a number. 

Someone else is trying to call him.

Danny stares at the notification, fear condensing in the fathomless pit of his stomach. He’d known the phone was a risk when Robin had handed it to him. Had understood from the start that it was also a tool to track Danny. But there had been no reasonable way out of it; if Robin was going to make Danny exist, then he had to be able to contact him, for questions, or to let him know when his ID was ready. Sure, Superboy can listen for Danny’s voice, but he can’t exactly message Danny back without coming to meet him, and Robin undoubtedly doesn’t want to have to go through Superboy to talk to him anyways. So he’d accepted the phone, and he’d been careful not to go anywhere weird. 

What Danny hadn’t considered, is the notion that Robin might give the number to others. Or, worse, that others might be able to find it (a trail is a trail is a trail). Now, here’s the clear evidence otherwise. Alarms flare in Danny’s head as he reconsiders, counting all the ways in which this whole thing was a terrible idea. He doesn’t have friends to help him here. He doesn’t even have Vlad to fall back on. Anonymity was quite literally his only protection and he threw that away for, what, the chance that he might be able to go to space camp?

Something touches his arm, and Danny leaps back, weight falling onto his back foot and arms coming up as he glares at the person in front of him. But when he pauses to process, the only person in front of him is an old lady who he’s seen around plenty of times before. Great. This is a public space, and there’s other people here, and he just acted like he was gonna fight an old lady.

“I’m so sorry!” Danny exclaims, snapping his arms down. “I just-” Danny fumbles for a moment, trying to think of an explanation that doesn’t sound like an excuse.

“Oh, there is absolutely nothing to apologize for, dear.” The lady says with a smile, even as she takes a half step back. “I touched you without warning; your response to that is your own. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh...” Danny says. “Okay?” He frowns, trying to remember if he stumbled or something before he stopped. 

“Well, you looked at your phone and I thought you looked upset. So when you didn’t move after a minute, I thought you might have... well, I’ve seen that kind of reaction before, and it tends to not mean anything good.”

“Oh, that’s, um. That’s very nice of you.”

“Nothing of it dear! Now, I don’t want to pry into your business, but if you need an ear, or a hug, or just someone to sit with you for a moment...” She trails off. Danny blinks, and glances back at his phone.

“Um, I think- it’s fine. I probably need to go deal with this, but it’s nothing worth worrying about.” He plasters his best smile on as he says the last bit, and resolutely ignores the way her frown only deepens. “But I really appreciate the offer! I mean, really!” Danny takes one, then two steps back, then turns towards the entrance to the park, and sets off at a jog, calculating in his head.

It’s been about five minutes since his phone buzzed. Nothing’s happened yet, which means whatever situation probably isn’t hostile yet, so Danny presumably has some amount of time. And the first priority has to be keeping this poor town out of it, so the first thing he needs to do is get out of the town.

Luckily, Danny’s had a map of the best transformation spots building in his head since day one, so it’s a simple matter of running to the closest one, shifting, and then taking off under the cover of his invisibility. Once he gets some height, he starts scanning his surroundings for any odd activity, but everything in the town seems normal, so Danny refocuses, looking instead for a safe spot to deal with...whoever is after him now.

Five minutes later, Danny drops down onto an empty, overgrown lot, well away from anyone. The second his feet hit the ground, he looks down at the phone still in his hand. The unknown number is still there, staring him down from the notification screen. Danny takes a deep breath, and he swipes the phone open and begins to read.

Hey! I talked Robin into giving me your number so we could chat more easily! (it’s Superboy in case that isn’t clear)

Danny stares at the message, the dread in his stomach promptly evaporating, until all that’s left is a dense little nugget of embarrassment. Superboy. Who Danny knows and has talked to, and had been very friendly, and absolutely would have asked his friend Robin for Danny’s number. Because they’re at least sort-of-friends and that’s what friends do. They share their phone numbers and then send each other messages. And Danny reacted to a stupid message by panicking and fleeing the entire town like his phone was a bomb that he had to defuse in a desolate-ass field across from a shitty abandoned truck stop along an equally abandoned highway.

At least Superboy’s not here to see Danny look like a loser.

Hey! He quickly writes back. That’s a great idea, I’ll add you to my contacts :D

Danny hits send, then immediately takes off, heading back towards town. Maybe if he’s quick enough, nobody will catch that he left.

It’s kind of funny, in a way. Like, yeah Superboy had been acting friendly towards him from the beginning, but he hadn’t really thought about the other boy as being a potential friend or anything. There’s a part of him that feels guilty about it - that aches with the thought that he could be sending Superboy all the messages he would have sent to Sam and Tucker. He knows they’d call him an idiot if they could hear those thoughts, but the uncomfortable feeling doesn’t seem overly concerned with Danny’s attempts at rational thought.

He wishes they had come with him, even as he knows how unfair it would’ve been to ask. Their bond may be strong as hell (turns out half-dying in front of your friends makes for an unbreakable friendship), but his friends have families that love and care about them. Meanwhile, Danny’s family had always been a catastrophic mess. He’d always tried not to let himself think about it, but here in a different dimension, it’s easy to admit to himself how much it hurt to have his parents not realize he’d died.

They’d never even questioned it, not sought out a single further answer as to how the portal suddenly started working. Danny had spent weeks, falling through furniture and randomly going invisible, had suddenly started being targeted by their shitty home defense systems, and they’d never fucking noticed, because they’d been too excited that their beloved portal was finally working and now they could dig into their obsession all the more.

In retrospect, they should have realized Danny’s parents were ecto-contaminated far sooner. Even Box Ghost wasn’t that much of a freak for boxes.

“It’s fucking dumb,” Danny mutters, dropping down into an alley and transforming. “Fucking dead, and it’s a relief that they didn’t notice, because if my parents noticed anything about me, they’d only make my life fucking worse!” He punctuates the statement by kicking a half-crushed can as hard as he can, sending it flying directly at the wall. The clang echoes in the tight little alleyway, and again as it clatters to a stop a few feet away. He stands there, staring at the can for a moment, thinking about just letting himself cry. He imagines what would happen if he just collapsed onto the ground and started sobbing and never got up. It’s not like he has any responsibilities to get to, after all. Or, if he wanted, he could march back to the park and tell that nice lady that he’s not fine, and demand that hug she’d offered him. He’d feel dumb as hell, and it wouldn’t actually change anything, but he could.

He stoops down to pick up the can. Sam would want him to go recycle it. Superboy responds to his text with a goofy midair selfie.

* * *

Danny does not want to be doing math right now, so when his phone buzzes, he jumps at the opportunity to do literally anything else. Danny’s determined to do well in school this time around, and he’s willing to work for it, but trying to review and relearn everything  he should have over the last couple years sucks. Luckily he’s found some useful resources that he can refer back to when he inevitably discovers something else he should have learned, but preparedness is definitely better than playing catch-up. He’s only going to have two years worth of  high school grades, so each class is worth a lot more. Thinking about that, Danny kind of gets why Robin had offered to falsify his grades. He could only imagine how Jazz would’ve felt if her perfect GPA had been erased in Junior year.

But to Danny, the clean slate is already a boon. He’d quite literally scraped his way out of summer school by half of a percent this last year, and even though Junior Year had barely been underway when he’d fled, his grades had already been beyond recovery. And with no ghost attacks to contend with, Danny’s determined to prove he can get to college of his own accord.

Guess what! :D The message from Superboy says, when he opens it. It’s accompanied by a selfie, though it’s not taken in any of the rooms Danny’s seen in the many photos Superboy’s sent him.

Titan Tower’s been demolished and you’re all staying in Robin’s place for a week? Danny sends back immediately. He hopes that’s not actually the case, but Superboy’s always delighted whenever Danny sends him a snarky response, so he swallows the needle of anxiety. They’ve been texting for less than a week, but in that time, Superboy’s sent Danny dozens and dozens of messages. Solidly half of them are just random selfies, and the number that appear to be from inside their hero base has got to be some kind of a security problem, but Danny’s not about to challenge Superboy on it. It’s too reassuring, seeing the headquarters the teen heroes work from. Every selfie reveals more of the comfortable, spacious, and well-equipped base, and with every reveal, Danny feels a little more certain that they really aren’t being exploited.

Nope, comes the response. Then, a moment later, I’m at your new home! This is accompanied by another selfie, this one with an absolutely gorgeous framed print of the pillars of creation in the background. Danny straightens in his seat, as he stares at the message. He’d given Robin carte blanche when it came to furnishing his apartment. At the time  of their conversation, he’d been overwhelmed and didn’t want to think about anything like furniture, but now that he’s had time to think he’s been feeling a little regret about it. Danny’s used to living with stuff that other people have picked out, and the idea of having control over his furniture actually does seem like it could be cool. Still, he hadn’t felt strongly enough to say anything, afraid to risk disrupting whatever work Robin had already done. Besides, he’d assumed Robin would just give him the are minimum, and he could add stuff later, when he finally had the money.

Danny’s caught between desperate gratitude and guilt. The print in the photo is beautiful, and exactly the kind of thing Danny might have chosen, but he also knows how much quality prints like that cost. He hadn’t thought about it before, but furniture has got to be expensive too, even if it’s just the bare minimum. 

You still there, dude? Another text comes in and Danny moves to reply with shaking hands.

How much money are you guys spending on me?

The response isn’t immediate. Danny tries not to panic, but he can tell he’s going to fail. Instead, he shoves his stuff into his backpack as quickly as he can, holding his breath, because he absolutely can’t be trusted to stay quiet right now. He’s walking out the door to the library, when his phone finally buzzes again.

Okay so I sort of had to ask Robin why you would be worried about that, so like, sorry for the delay. There’s like a lot of gaps in my social knowledge? And I’ve never really had any control over what ppl do or don’t give me, so like. I didn’t realize that would upset you and I’m sorry? But also Robin literally said “not much, only a couple thousand” which is to say that I’m pretty sure he’s actually super rich and furnishing a home is literally peanuts to him.

Danny reads it, and then he reads it again, forcing himself to take deep breaths as he moves out of the doorway. Once he’s well away from anyone’s walking path, he lets himself collapse against the wall, sliding down until he’s curled up against the corner of the ground and wall.

It’s fine.

It’s gotta be fine. There is literally nothing in either of their behavior that has seemed even remotely cruel, and if Danny’s reading between the lines right, then Robin does this sort of thing to other people too, so it’s not even remotely about Danny. He doesn’t feel good about it, but logically it isn’t the level of problem that Danny is worried about. Danny can deal with the gross feelings. He can’t afford to do anything else, really.

After all, how the hell was gonna buy a bed? He has less than a hundred dollars to his name. Maybe he could afford it if he sold off the jewelry, but he absolutely couldn’t furnish a whole apartment. Besides, he literally asked for this. If he’s too stupid to realize the implications of asking for his apartment to be furnished, then that’s fully on him.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, half on instinct, but really, what is ignoring Superboy going to accomplish?

Are you good? Do I need to find you? I haven’t gotten the hang of tracking heartbeats like Superman, but I can try? I like being your friend, please don’t let me fuck this up

Danny starts typing out a response. Deletes it. Tries again. He tries to lie and say he feels fine, but it just reminds him of the old lady’s expression the other day, and how she’d seemed more upset when he tried to brush his problems off. He takes another deep breath and tries to remember Jazz. They’d mostly avoided talking about Vlad. The whole thing was just so shitty and neither of them had the power to actually do anything, so they’d mostly pretended he didn’t exist, and Danny had done his best to play off the worst of his behavior. There had been one time, though. When Jazz had come home, upset about some conflict with a friend, and she had turned on him about it, lecturing him about boundaries and how important it is to tell people if you feel uncomfortable. She hadn’t explicitly said Vlad’s name but, well, who else could she have been talking about? So Danny forcibly gulps air down, and he tries to explain.

I’m not mad at you? Danny writes. I just - have a history with, like, gifts, and the idea of anyone spending much money on me makes me feel gross. Like in a ‘how is this gonna be held over me’ sort of way, y’know? He has to back up and rephrase a couple times, but eventually he feels like his response makes sense, so he hits send.

Crisis somewhat quelled, Danny gulps down another breath, and pushes himself back to his feet. There’s a mom nearby staring at him, though her kid seems focused on the book in their hands, so he mutters sorry, and starts heading down the street. 

Oh. Yeah, I think I get that. Superboy’s response is quicker this time. Can I, like, tell that to Robin? He might have an idea of how to make it not-a-gift?

Sure, Danny responds. I think I’m gonna go for a run, so if I don’t respond, don’t stress out.

* * *

When Danny finishes his run, he’s got a picture from Superboy of an absolutely adorable dog, and one single message from Robin that reads Don’t worry. Meet us at Emery Park at 5. We can discuss the logistics of it then. Robin’s absolutely tragic reassurance doesn’t really make him feel better, but it is sort of amusingly Robin-like, so at least there’s that. Danny has no intentions of trying to study now though, so instead he just wanders the park for a while, before slipping off to transform. When he comes back in his ghost form, he feels incredibly conspicuous and pretty much everyone seems to notice him. Mostly they just smile and nod in his direction, but one person actually comes up to him.

“Hey, uh. My sister was one of the people you saved last month, so like, thank you. She means a lot to me, and I don’t know what I would have done if she’d-” They cut themselves off with a choked noise, and they absolutely look like they’re about to start crying. Danny gets it; he knows full well what happened in the world where something happened to his sister, but he also has no idea how to reassure them.

“I’m very glad I was able to help,” Danny tries. “Um, how is your sister?” Good, that’s how to be empathetic, right?

“Ah, well you know. The smoke inhalation had her laid up for a bit, but honestly I think she was more upset about losing her home, you know? But she’s staying with me for now, so we’ll figure things out.”

“That’s good,” Danny nods. They’re not wrong; losing your home sucks. But this random person absolutely does not need to be subjected to Danny’s long list of misfortune. Luckily they take their leave after that, though whether it’s a result of Danny’s expression or their own emotions, he’s not sure.

Nobody else approaches him in the time it takes for Superboy to flip over his shoulder.

“Hey!” Superboy says, grinning as he lands in front of Danny. “Whatchu been up to?”

“Not much,” Danny says. “It’s really not been a productive day.”

“Shit, sorry.” Superboy winces.

“Nah, even before that, I was trying to review math, so like. Focus has been majorly my enemy, you know?”

“Ready to start school, then?” Robin asks from where he’s walked up to stand by Danny.

“Eh, probably not ever gonna be, so it might as well happen.”

“Right, well everything is ready, so if you’d like to adjourn to the apartment to discuss specifics?” Danny nods, and follows as they head off again.

Instead of walking, Robin pulls out a literal zip-line, and they quite literally take to the rooftops, all the way to a nice-looking brick building, not far from the center of town. Danny would wager that it’s within a ten minute walk of the library and the nearest grocery store, which is pretty sweet. Danny can even see little balconies along the front, as they approach which is pretty cool. so he might even get a view. Instead of heading to the front of the building, Robin drops down to street level, and Danny finds himself in a little parking garage when he follows.

“We’re less likely to get spotted this way,” Robin explains as he walks through the parking lot. “I’ll erase the security footage of us, but the less people know we came here, the safer your identity is.”

“Makes sense,” Danny says. “I can, um, make you guys invisible, but I’d have to be touching you to do it.”

“By all means.” Robin says, staring Danny down.

“Cool, um,” Danny glances over at Superboy, who nods, so he reaches out to grip their wrists carefully, and lets his invisibility wash over all three of them. He lets Robin lead them through the door, and up three flights of stairs. He stops in front of a door labelled 305, and a moment later, the door is open and the three of them are stepping inside. Danny drops his grip on them as the door closes, taking in the room around him.

Danny’s half-formulated fear of some fancy, swagged-out apartment that constantly reminds him of Robin’s generosity seems ridiculous in the face of the cozy, simply appointed living space in front of him. Instead of a table, there’s a small bar area built into the kitchen with a couple of comfortable-looking stools, and the couch in the living room looks comfortably worn, so Robin must have gotten it secondhand. The decorations aren’t extravagant either. The framed print Danny had seen earlier sits proudly on the wall behind the couch, but aside from that there’s only a couple minor decorations, and a lamp.

He turns to look back at Robin, who immediately steps forward and holds up a key ring.

“This key gets you into the building, this one is to your apartment, and this one is to your mailbox. There’s also a bike room in the parking garage we walked through. That’s what this last key is for, though I would advise still using a bike lock if you decide to get one.” He holds it out, after he finishes, and Danny nods, trying to commit each key to memory. After a moment, Robin continues.

“Your lease is in the folder on the counter, along with your personal documentation and a couple other things. As far as the funding of this is concerned, I took the slight liberty of forward-funding this with your theoretical payout for the assistance you provided during the train crash last month. So, if and when you decide to legally declare your hero identity, I’ll back-file the paperwork for that.”

“Oh,” Danny says. He looks around the room again, and then back at Robin. The internet had been entirely unclear if Robin had any powers, but Danny’s decided he’s got to be psychic. There’s no other way he could have planned this all out so perfectly. “Okay, that’s, um. That definitely works for me. Thank you so much.”

“You’ve gotta see your bedroom, though!” Superboy explains, grabbing Danny’s hand and pulling him down the hallway, and through the last door.

The bedroom that greets him is similarly balanced as the living area. The comforter alone makes Danny pause. As long as he can remember, he’d always secretly wanted a space-themed comforter, but he’d only ever seen the goofy ones made for little kids, but this comforter is decorated with an absolutely gorgeous cover; the star-spattered blue-black of outer space giving way at the bottom edge to a view of the earth itself, atmosphere pale against the onslaught of space. It’s gorgeous, and doesn’t make Danny feel childish at all. The wall behind the headboard is similarly impressive, with what has to be a composite print of high quality images of every major body in the galaxy, from the sun itself to the dwarf planet Pluto (Danny hadn’t been certain how to feel about that particular difference in classification when he’d first arrived, but he’s come around to it by now).

“Do you like it?” Superboy asks.

“It’s amazing,” Danny says. Stepping forward and falling onto his new bed. “I actually can’t believe this is all mine.”

“Your name’s the one on the lease,” Robin says. “Although please do let me know if you have a hard time making payments. I’m more than happy to assist, and if you need to make it a loan to feel comfortable, we work that out.”

“Yeah, okay.” Danny says, looking around the space again. He feels a lot less anxious just being in this space. Vlad would never have done anything like this. If he’d ever been inclined to get Danny an apartment, there would have been reminders of him everywhere. It’s not even like the kind of unwanted stuff Sam would throw at him and Tucker. This whole apartment really feels like it’s meant to be his.

“There’s also the beginnings of a wardrobe in the closet. Not much since I wasn’t certain of style preferences, but a few basics and a couple nice shirts for any job interviews and the like.”

“Oh,” Danny says. He really should think of better responses to what Robin says, but he keeps saying things Danny hadn’t even considered.

“Similarly, there’s some food essentials in the kitchen. We can always take anything you dislike to a food bank.” Robin continues, unhindered. “And the secondary bedroom is currently set up to be an office. Since you’re doing the school from home option, I decided it was worthwhile to set up a separate space for you to do that from. Separating work and relaxation spaces can go a long way to not going insane.”

“Oh.” Danny feels like a broken record.

“Furthermore, to head off any concerns, the laptop is one of my old ones that was sitting unused in storage. The planner, however, is new, and it is a gift.” Robin says, his mouth turning up into a slight smile. Keeping track of what you have to do is the most difficult part of online school, and the planner should help with that. Just don’t get caught up in trying to use it the right way. Whatever works best for you is the correct way.”

“Damn dude,” Superboy says, staring at his friend. “How are you gonna go and make school sound like it’s kinda fun?”

“If you’re interested, I could get you signed up as well.” Robin’s response comes immediately. 

“We should order pizza,” Danny says, flopping onto the couch. “Gotta hang out now before I get too busy with school.”

[asdfghjklartblog]

My Time

Trans masc reader x yandere batfam

I’ve been getting into vocaloid songs, or like songs that use Teto and Miku’s voices. Anyways since I used to be really into Miku I wanted to use that cause well… What kind of person doesn’t love Miku?

I hope you guys like it. I think there’s some spelling mistakes or typos and if there is, sorry :P but otherwise I don’t got much to say! Good reading! It’s about 5.8k words! Yay!

Your mother, m/n was a beautiful woman. Strong, charming, and stubborn, at least that’s what your daddy said. And you might not remember mommy, but you trust daddy. He says that mommy loved you, that she loved you so much, but that she couldn’t come back. You didn’t really understand, not at the time. I mean how could a two-year-old grapple with the concept of death? However, even though your mom left, you weren’t lonely, you had daddy. Daddy wasn’t your real father, no, but he’s the one that’s been loving you and taking care of you. He’s the one that told you stories when you went to bed, tucked you in and kissed you good night. He held you when you were scared, cuddled you when you wanted love. He was everything you could ever want, he promised to stay with you till you got sick of him. He promised he’d be there for you no matter what.

You woke up for your first day of preschool, and when you go to look at your little froggy clock you saw that it was already 9 in the morning. You ran over to your daddy’s room excitedly chattering about how you were going to be late because of him which makes you giggle, because usually daddy would chastise and tease you about making them late. You open the door to find him still, there’s stab wounds all over his chest and dried blood all over the bed, his eyes are dull and lifeless and there’s bruises at his neck and wrists.

You shiver as a breeze comes through the open window. You stand there for a while, confused on what to do. There’s this bad feeling in your stomach but despite that you slowly approach the bed. You poke your dad and try to wake him up, you notice that he’s cold, daddy’s never cold. He’s always warm and comforting and perfect for cuddles. You start crying, not really knowing why. You climb up on the bed and curl up beside him. The sheets are crusty with blood and it feels all gross and but that doesn’t really matter to you right now. You just want to stay here with daddy.

You don’t know how long you’re there but at some point daddy’s phone rings. You stare at it, frozen in place before you climb down from the bed and go over to it. You pick up the phone and a woman says. “Hello! This is Thierry Preschool, we were wondering if your child y/n was still coming? It’s been about two hours since it started and we were just checking.”

You don’t know what to say to her. You fidget a bit before mumbling. “H-Hello. Daddy can’t come to the phone right now. Um. I’m scared. Daddy isn’t moving and there’s blood all over? That’s bad, right? Daddy’s cold and everything and -and I don’t know what to do!”

You start sniffling, on the verge of crying again as the person on the other line stays silent. She then gently and calmly says. “Honey, it’s going to be okay. Can you tell me where you live honey? Calm down and watch some TV or read a book, okay honey? Can you do that for me? Can you be strong for me?”

You sniffle and nod trying to get out a choked up “Yeah.” From your throat. You try your best to mumble out an address as she coos about how good of a job you’re doing and how she needs you to stay calm. Before she hangs up, she tells you that some nice men will come to pick you up and that you have to be good for them. You nod and mumble an okay. You go back to curl up against your daddy, you bury your face into his chest and whisper to him.

“People are coming. It’s okay daddy. We’ll be okay. I love you. You’ll wake up soon right? Please? I’ll be a good girl daddy I promise.”

The nice men come and they look at you and daddy with… An expression you’ve never seen before. It makes you feel worse. They try to tear you away from him but you hold onto daddy with a death grip while you scream and shout as they try to convince you to let go. You’re scared. You don’t wanna let him go. They eventually pry you away from him as you wail and try your best to wriggle out of their hold. After that, it’s a bit of a blur. You were wrangled into a police car as one of them sat in the backseat with you trying to calm you down.

You look out the window, watching as the officer drives through the streets, going through traffic. You’re escorted into a building and taken into a room where a police officer try to question you gently. However the next thing you know everything gets blurry, it’s hard to breathe and it feels like your insides are spiky. When you can breathe again some man with a scruffy face and blocky glasses is holding you close to his chest saying things like. “It’s okay, you’re alright.” And “Breathe, breathe for me.” You calm down, not because of his words, but because he looks a bit like dad. His scruffy face, his gentle smile, his dark green eyes. It makes you bury your face into the man’s chest and whisper out a small broken. “Don’t leave me.”

The next thing you can remember was the man carrying you around like a baby, mostly because even after the weird “panic attack” or whatever the police officer called it, you wouldn’t let go of him. Which made the man holding you look at you sadly. He gives in and instead of forcing you to let go and go back to doing work, he starts showing you all kinds of things, giving you a tour around the police station. You learn from one of the men that the guy holding you is named Commissioner Gordon. Weird name. It sounds kinda cool though.

Once you’ve fully calmed down he carries you over to where a nurse is and he distracts you by talking about dinosaurs which you excitedly listen to while they draw some blood to see if you’re healthy and to notify any blood relatives. Commie says you’re being a very good girl and that they’ll have results in less than an hour, he also asks if you’re hungry which you nod enthusiastically to. He then leaves to get you some chips and a donut from the break room. You’re about to start chowing down before Commie asks. “Hold on there kid, isn’t there something you need to say before eating?”

You stand there staring at him and then make an ‘Oh!’ face and say. “Thanks Commie!”

You don’t notice but as you start eating the donut that a couple of the police officers laugh while Commie cracks a smile and then huffs before saying. “Kid, Commissioner isn’t my first name. It’s Jim.”

You then absentmindedly say as you take another bite of the donut. “Oh. Okay Jimmy.”

One of the guards starts laughing again and this time even Jimmy chuckles. However someone comes in and whispers to Jimmy and he then turns back to the person as they whisper to each other. Another officer takes it upon himself to distract and picks you up before throwing you up into the air and catching you. Making you giggle and ask for more. Jimmy approaches again and he subtly asks the officer distracting you to put you down. Jimmy takes a knee looking at you at eye level and hesitates before saying. “We… Found some people you’re… Related to. We called them up and asked if they’d take you in, and he said yes. Do you know Bruce Wayne? He’s your daddy-“

You immediately interrupt him saying. “But I already have a daddy. I don’t need another one-“

Jimmy interrupts you trying to gently say. “I’m sorry. But.. Your daddy… He can’t take care of you anymore-“

“What do you mean? Why? Can’t you help him? I’ve been waiting and being a good girl! Does daddy not want me anymore?”

“Honey-“

“No! I’ve been good! Daddy said he’d stay with me! He promised, h-he-“

Jimmy interrupts with a firm call of your name which makes you stop. He puts a hand on your shoulder and brings you into a hug as he gently says to you. “I’m sorry. He’s gone.” As those words tumble out of his mouth you tear up again and you raise your arms to cling on to him for dear life. You bawl and hiccup and he’s there to take all of your anger, your sadness until you’ve calmed down again. He pulls away from you and tries to talk to you, but you’re tired. You’re sad, you don’t have the energy to talk. He sighs and then holds your hand and guides you to a bench, he pats your head and says. “How about you wait here? Since your room is not exactly under investigation I could maybe swipe some things for you? Do you have a favorite toy or picture I can get for you?”

You wait trying to think about what you would want from your room. You think of your little stuffed owl that daddy named Oliver and your stuffed cat you named Oliver 2. You want the picture on your nightstand of you, mommy and daddy. You want the special night light daddy made for you. You want your dinosaur pjs daddy got for your birthday, you try your best to relay this Jimmy but all that comes out are little mumbles and whimpers.

He sighs and says with a small smile. “Tell ya what kid, when you go stay with da- Bruce. Why don’t you have him send an email or make him call us about what you want from home. And I’ll get those things for you. How does that sound kid?”

You look up at him, slowly and you hesitantly nod. He ruffles your head and with a smile and says. “‘Atta girl!”

Which makes you smile a bit before your face going blank. He sighs at that and says. “Someone’ll be here to pick you up shortly. And-“

You hear someone running and turn to look where it’s coming from. You see some guy comes running and stops in front of you. He heaves as he holds something familiar under his arm. After he catches his breath he smiles at you before handing you the thing under his arm. A stuffed owl which you immediately recognize as Oliver. He winks at you and then crouches down to your height as he says.

“Hey kid, my name’s Ethan Bennett. Man, you are like a carbon copy of Bruce. Well, except for your eyes, yours are e/c and a lot softer. Shit, where do I even start. Uh, Oh! I’m your uncle, well, not your actual uncle but like, you can consider me as one. I’m a detective under Commissioner Gordon. I’m also your dad’s best friend, I’m not the one here to pick you up, I’m actually still on the clock but uh. This guy,” He says as he holds up Oliver with a smug smile. “Said that he needed to get to you. So I did him a favor. Just… Don’t tell anyone.”

You take Oliver from his hand and while Jimmy and Uncle Bennett argue you start to tear up again. You hug Oliver tight burying your face in his soft downy chest. Then looking up at Uncle Bennett, you quietly say. “Thank you.” Which he pauses the argument for, before smiling down at you. “You’re welcome, kid. Say how about I wait with you huh? I could show you pictures of your daddy-“

You immediately interrupt. “Not my daddy.”

Ethan looks a bit confused at that, and looks to Jimmy for an explanation. Jimmy shrugs and motions for Uncle Bennett to continue. “Should I call him your dad?”

You nod, confirming that dad is an acceptable choice of words. He chuckles and then continues. “How about I show you pictures of him. So we can.. Condition you to him like a cat.”

You see Jimmy smack Uncle Bennett’s bald head which makes you giggle as Uncle tries to defend himself saying. “What? It’s true! I mean, he’s a big guy, he’s probably gonna scare her. I mean unless you know him, he looks pretty scary. And look at her.”

Uncle says as he gestures to you with both hands. “She’s barely what 4? 5? She looks like a sad wet kitten, Bruce looks like that evil grey bird that looks like it eats puppies compared to her.”

You tilt your head at that. There’s an evil bird? Your father looks like a bird? What does that mean? Your uncle is weird maybe you can get a different one. Jimmy seems like he’d be a good uncle.

They start arguing again and you go back to sit on the bench as they argued. You hold Oliver tightly in your hands and wait, you see them stop arguing with both of them leaving you to wait alone. Or at least that’s what you thought would happen. Until uncle Bennett comes back with some files in hand and some markers and pencils in the other. He sits next to you and says. “Well, I couldn’t get out of work early, but he never said I couldn’t work while I waited with you.”

You smile at him and scooch closer to him as he chuckles. And so the two of you wait. And wait. And wait some more. By 5 you then see an man that looks kinda like a butler being escorted by an officer. You tug on uncle Bennet’s dress shirt before asking. “What do you think he’s in for?”

He looks at you confused before looking up, you see his eyes widen and he starts to burst into laughter. Both the officer and fancy man look confused, and well, so are you.

Your eyes meet with the fancy man’s and his eyes widen and his pupils shrink in shock. He then schools his expression and looks at you with a smile, you shift in your seat feeling a bit uncomfortable with the look in his eyes. The fancy man walks up to you and crouches to your level, he then gently says to you.

“Hello. You must be y/n. My name is Alfred Pennyworth, I’m the butler for the Wayne family. I apologize but your father is not able to pick you up since-“

“What? Alfred what do you mean-“

Then Alfred and uncle Bennett starts talking and kinda arguing. You couldn’t care less though, you have Oliver now! You smile and nuzzle into Oliver’s fluffy chest and then squeeze the little speaker in its wing which plays a recording of your daddy humming his lullaby and then saying. “I love you my little Bubo.” You hold it closer and whisper into its fur. “I love you too daddy.” You hear uncle Bennett’s and Alfred’s argument start to quiet down and you catch uncle saying.

“-how he treats his other kid? Look, even if there was an emergency-“

Alfred sighs as he replies. “No, he does not treat master Dick like this, look. I’m not going to make excuses for him. Master Bruce had his phone on silent for a meeting and so he wasn’t able to answer, then there was Penguin who tried to steal some kind of tech there and you know how they have to follow protocol and whatnot-“

You sigh and look up at Alfred while tugging at his pant leg. They both look down at you and you just ask. “I’m tired. And hungry. I wanna go home. Can you take me home?”

They both look at each other nervously and Alfred takes a breath and says. “I apologize Miss y/n. But, you cannot go home. I understand this is hard for you, and you don’t understand what’s going on. But I, your father and your brother will take care of you. You have my word.”

You want to argue, you wanna fight and yell and say the bad words that your daddy says by accident sometimes. But you’re so small, well, at least you feel small. You’ve never felt this small, well you have, but daddy was there to hug and comfort you. As you look at Alfred, you wish something, anything would just leave your math. Instead all you can say is. “Okay. But I want warm honeyed milk and a bed time story.”

Alfred chuckles at that and nods. You don’t understand why is he laughing, You are completely serious, if you do not have your drink you will throw a tantrum. It’s the least this mysterious man can do after saying that. Alfred, then follows Ethan to go get the paperwork to take you out of the police station and to claim legal rights over you. Meanwhile you tell Oliver about your day, about the scary things that happened. You look at Oliver’s beady eyes and whisper. “I hope my dad likes me. Daddy says I’m a good girl so they’ll like me, I know they will. And even if they don’t, daddy says that some people are just stupid and dumb and don’t deserve to be your friends.”

Alfred comes back with a thick folder of paperwork which you frown at, you don’t like paper. It makes the people you like busy, specifically daddy. You hate when daddy has paperwork. You then look up to Alfred and tug on his pant leg as you whisper up to him. “Do you hate paperwork too?”

He raises an eyebrow at you with a little smile on his face, he takes your hand and starts to lead you out of the police station as you two start to converse. You talk to him about anything that comes to mind. From what you think of paperwork to which Hercules beetle you love the most, to how you peed your pants at the aquarium while you were out in the play area. Alfred had to contain his laughter as you described all of the kids started crying, including you. Finally you arrive at this big building and you look up at it in awe, you then look around at the courtyard and the scary but pretty style of the building. You look up to Alfred and say. “This is like, a bajillion times bigger than my home!”

Before Alfred can stop you, you start running off to the front door giggling and squealing as Alfred tries to catch you. After a few minutes of expertly dodging and wiggling out of his hold like some slippery snake. He catches you and then throws you under his arm which you make a little ‘oof’ sound at.

Alfred then takes you through the foyer and after going through some hallways, which you don’t keep track of, you get to the kitchen. He sits you down at a stool by the kitchen island and says. “Don’t go running off miss y/n we wouldn’t want you to get lost after all.” You sigh and then nod before you stretch and yawn.

Someone comes into the kitchen and says. “Hello Alfred, who’s the kid?” You look at the person talking and see a guy that looks around Alfred’s age and a some teenager following behind him. You try to get off from the stool, now bored out of your mind as Alfred talks to the other man while the teen notices you and goes over to help. He takes you off the stool and says. “What’s your name?”

You look at him dead in the eyes and then slap his thigh and say. “Tag!” You start booking it as you giggle, your game of tag now in session. The teen looks at you with wide eyes and starts to chase after you. Realizing that it was a mistake putting you on the ground. You go into a room and find that it’s a bedroom, you giggle as you put a pillow under the covers to trick the boy and then get under the bed.

He comes rushing in saying. “Hey, this isn’t funny. Come on, if you come out I’ll… uh, get Alfred to make you cookies? I don’t know. Uh, just come out. I’d rather not have Mr. Wayne or my dad scold me about letting some kid loose in the manor.”

He then sees the trap you laid out for him and as soon as he gets close to the bed you shoot your hands out to grab at his ankles, which makes him scream like a girl and practically jump away like some spider or grasshopper. You start giggling maniacally as he falls on to his butt. You then come out from under the bed as you say. “I got you!” In a sing songy voice as you sit next to him. The teen sighs and stands up, he dusts himself off and says. “Yeah you got-“ and then ambushes you by picking you up from your armpits and says. “Hah! In your face!”

You giggle some more as you whine “No” trying to wiggle out of the teen’s hold. After you calm down you look up at him and ask. “Hi! What’s your name?”

He replies with a small smirk saying. “I’m Luke Fox. And you? What’s your name you little rascal?”

You grin widely, like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland and say. “Y/n! And my last name is l/n! Nice to meet you!”

He smiles back and then holds you to his chest and starts to walk back to the kitchen as he says. “So… Bruce Wayne’s kid huh? I can tell. You look a lot like him. A lot smaller and cuter, but still.”

Your mischievous smile disappears and you instead, bury your face into his chest as you reply. “Yeah. Uncle Bennett said that too. I don’t care, I just want my daddy back.”

Luke looks at you a bit confused and then you explain to him what happened today. All the way from the moment you woke up to just right now. At some point during your retelling of the accounts of today, he stops walking leaving you two just standing in the middle of some hallway. After you finished he looks at you with the same expression those police officers that found you had, the same sad expression that Jimmy and Uncle tried to hide as well. You don’t like how it feels to be looked at like this. It makes your chest kinda heavy and your stomach weird. Luke holds you closer, staying silent for a bit before saying. “My mom makes me this really bomb ass hot cho- Shit I said a- Dammit! Fuck!”

When Luke groans at himself for cussing in front of a literal child you start to giggle. You smile and then tap his shoulder before whispering into his ear. “Daddy swears a lot too. Don’t worry, I won’t tell. Pinky swear!” As she raises her hand and pinky so they can swear on it together.

He chuckles and pinky swears with you, not long after you two enter the kitchen, with you still in his arms. You see that neither the man or Alfred noticed you or Luke were gone. You couldn’t care less however. At least you made your first friend. You then see someone else some into the kitchen, he’s tall and… Wow. He really does look like you. You wriggle in Luke’s arms, telling him to let you down. Meanwhile Bruce, the person people keep talking about, your supposed father, walks past you and Luke. His focus is on Alfred and Luke’s dad, Luke finally lets you down after teasing you a bit more and you slowly walk over to Bruce. You stare at his face as he talks to the other two men, he had the same spiky eyebrows as you. You’ve never seen someone with the same eyebrows as you.

You shift nervously before patting your clothes and hair down before tugging on his pant leg. You look up at him with a small hopeful smile. Bruce looks down at you and his eyes widen impossibly before he schools his face before giving you a smile, he opens his mouth to say something but you interrupt. “Hello! I am y/n l/n. We look alike! I like your eyes. They look like how mint tastes. Why are you so big? Will I get that big? Do you think I’ll be taller than you?”

He looks at you strangely, a bit surprised and a bit… Something else? Whatever it is it makes you kinda feel bad and you don’t like that. You fidget as he turns his attention towards Luke’s dad and Alfred. Talking about something else again. You look back at Luke and he looks a bit confused and slightly agitated, he then fixes his face and smiles at you before walking over and saying. “He’s probably just tired or something. How about I make something for you? Sandwich maybe?”

You nod and follow him to the fridge as you look through everything. He shows you some some sandwich ingredients taking the time to show you each one and answering your questions about it. He then makes the sandwich for you, although he’s slightly cringing as you bite into your “abomination sandwich”. Which is what he called your delicious sandwich, and is definitely NOT an abomination. You’re eating at the little island on the stool that’s as big as you and you see another kid walk in. He has black hair and pretty blue eyes, you wave hi and he looks at you confused and a bit judgmental. The kid then asks you. “Who are you?”

You answer back. “Y/n. What’s your name?”

“None of your business.” He replies in a snarky tone.

You look at him, surprised and then glare at him, before you can snap back Luke says. “That’s Dick. He’s gonna be your brother. Kinda. Also, come on Dick. Be nicer.”

Dick huffs and and grumbles “Fine.” before he goes over to the fridge to look through it. He gasp, offended by something. He then glares at you and asks. “Did you finish all the prosciutto? I was gonna have that as a snack, I was saving it for a good day!”

Before Luke can apologize for you, you look at Dick and say. “Well maybe you should’ve had a note on it or something! This is my first day here! I don’t know you people!”

Dick looks you up and down and then marches up to where you’re sitting and nabs half of your sandwich and takes a bite, it only takes a moment before he’s sputtering and coughing because of the overly salty and spicy sandwich. You look on with both anger and slight satisfaction, angry he stole your sandwich and satisfied that he’s in pain. Luke tries to hide a smile as he turns away and hides his trembling mouth with his hand.

The adults then turn to look at you three, wondering what the commotion is. Alfred sighs and goes over to try and calm down Dick while Bruce looks at you disapprovingly. You look at Bruce, offended and stick your tongue and blow a raspberry at him before going back to your sandwich, tearing into the sandwich like you were a hyena and the sandwich was your carcass. Luke chuckles at that before saying. “Come on, don’t be mean. He’s only had Dick for what? Less than a month?”

You look at Luke with appalled face and say. “He isn’t even a real dad?!”

Bruce sighs as he looks down and asks Alfred. “So? What’s the situation with her? And have you-“

You can see Luke looks at Bruce with a weird face, something like a cross of disappointment and disgust before turning to you, and using his body to cover your view of almost everyone in the room. He then says. “Hey, how about we go to the living room? I’ll take you there. We could watch a movie or something? Oh, my dad showed me this movie called Totoro. Or something, you look like you’d live it! Let’s see if I can-“

He starts talking idly, as if to fill in space. When your finished with your sandwich he takes you off the chair and hurriedly walks you out of the kitchen and into the living room. He has you sit close to him so you two could watch it on his phone. You barely get through the first half before his dad comes over to say. “Come on, Luke. It’s time for us to go.” Luke tries to ask for a bit more time. He nudges your shoulder and whispers. “Hey, do some puppy eyes come on.”

What the hell are puppy eyes, you think to yourself before tilting your head at him like a puppy. Luke’s dad rolls his eyes with an affectionate look on his face before saying. “It’s a school night kid. Plus, your mom would kill me if I let you stay out past curfew again.”

Luke throws his head back groans dramatically before saying. “All my other friends can stay out past 8-“

“Well I’m not their parents am I? I’m yours. Now I’ll be waiting in the car for you.” Luke’s dad then turns to you and ruffles your hair before saying. “It was nice to meet you little one. Have a good night.”

You nod at him, and the man nods back before going over to the coatrack, getting his coat and leaving. Luke looks at you with a small pout on his face he sighs before ruffling your hair too, which makes you smile. He then gets up with a groan, just like daddy does. You follow as he also goes to get his coat and hat he then puts on his stuff and says. “Guess I gotta go… Have a goodnight y/n. Take care of yourself.”

He then gives you a hug before leaving. You yell after him. “Good night Luke! Sleep well!”

He smiles at that and waves at you before getting into his dad’s car, driving off and leaving you in the manor. You go back inside and go back to the living area where you see Alfred. You walk up to him and tilt your head like a curious puppy, waiting for him to announce his intentions. Alfred smiles before he says. “I came to inform you that I have gotten your room ready. On another note, it is time for you to go to bed young lady.”

You put up a hand and in a serious tone of voice you say. “No. You must have forgotten our deal. I want a hot chocolate, a fancy one with cinnamon, heavy cream.”

Alfred raises an eyebrow and asks. “Really? If I recall our agreement was that I’d make you honeyed milk. How strange. I suppose I should get rid of the honeyed milk that I put in your room then?”

You vehemently shake your head and say. “N-No! That’s fine! I’ll drink it! It’s mine! You can’t take it back!”

Alfred then lets out a hum of consideration. “If you say so. Now come along. I must tuck you in before the hour.”

This man speaks funny. You like it. You then try to imitate him using the fanciest words you know, like anemone and hypertension. He laughs but you’re not sure whether it’s because of the accent or because you probably used the words wrong. Anyways he brings you to your new room and you gasp at how big it is, you hurriedly take off your shoes and put them right next to the door before you run straight for the bed and climb on to it, it’s so soft!

You then notice the hot milk on the bedside table, you crawl over and sit on the edge of the bed so you can take a sip. You sigh in delight at the taste, the milk is nice and creamy with a hint of vanilla and cinnamon as well as some honey to make it sweet. You yawn and get off the bed so you can walk over to Alfred. “Thank you, it’s really yummy. Can I have some pajamas now? I’m sleepy and so is Oliver-“

You then realize that you don’t have Oliver in your arms, and you can’t remember where you put him. Your eyes become blurry as tears fill your vision, you look up at Alfred and whine. “Where’s Oliver? I can’t remember where he is.. Can you help me find him?”

Alfred opens his mouth to say something but a beep comes from his phone, he sighs and says. “I will bring him soon, just lie down and-“

You interrupt him saying. “No! He’s always there when I sleep! I need him, if my daddy isn’t gonna be here then I need Oliver to be here at least!” You don’t like how Alfred is trying to hurry things up. You don’t like that daddy’s not here, you don’t like how Oliver’s not here, you hate that your favorite people are leaving and you HATE everything about this day. Sure you met new and nice people, but you want Daddy. You want him to kiss your face and tickle your tummy and hug you. You start sobbing and pulling on your h/c hair and trying your best to not choke on air.

Alfred looks at you sadly and then sighs, he then gets on one knee and says. “Miss y/n. Please stop. I will get Oliver for you, I will be right back. I promise. I will return with your dear Oliver and some old pajamas.”

You look back at him and nod as you sniffle. You sit on your bed and sip on your warm milk while Alfred leaves to go get Oliver and some pajamas. You wait, and wait. and wait some more. But he never comes. You accidentally fall asleep, finished with your drink and more tired than you’ve ever felt. That’s when you realized, no one’s gonna take care of you like daddy, no one’s gonna tuck you in, kiss your tears away, or any of the other things he used to do. You curl up and cry softly in the early morning light, mourning the loss of your father. Something that you didn’t know was possible until it happened.

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I hope you like it! I already have the next few chapters planned so it will be angst for the next 3 or 4 chapters :)))

[cherryblossomcowgirl]

The Bodyguard

Bodyguard!Jake Seresin x reader; Glen Powell x reader

WC: 2.3k

TW: age gap; angst; weapons; possessiveness; mentions of death

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I cross my arms and huff, “This is so not fair, Dad.” He sighs, “Sweetheart, you knew this was coming. You had a security detail during my last term.” “I was in school then! I’m an adult now, Dad. I don’t need an armed babysitter.” “This is not a negotiation.” His tone is stern, the same one he uses during press conferences, and I immediately back down. The door to the oval office opens and one of his staffers pops their head in, “Mr. President, he’s here. Are you ready for him?” Dad nods and in walks the most gorgeous man I have ever laid my eyes on. Late 30s, tall, chiseled, tan, blonde hair, stubble, and a killer smile. My Father rises from behind the desk to shake his hand, “Hello, Mr. Seresin.” The man smiles, “Good morning, Mr. President.” Dad gestures to me, “This is my daughter, Y/n.” The blonde man turns to me, “Hello, Y/n.” I nod in his direction and my Father clears his throat, “As you can tell, she is not thrilled about this situation. I will warn you, this one gave her last detail quite the hard time. I would like to thank you and apologize to you at the same time.” Dad chuckles and the man nods, “Do not worry sir, she will be safe with me.” Dad sits back down and smiles, “I heard you are the best of the best. Let me know if you need anything.” The man nods and I walk over to kiss my Father on the head, “See you soon, Dad.” He grabs my hand for a second, “Don’t forget to call. I love you.” “You too.” I walk out of the office with my new shadow.

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The sound of the engine humming fills the awkward silence as we drive back to NYC. My mind wanders as I stare at his hands on the wheel, they look so strong and rough. I gaze up his arms, vascular and practically bulging out of his shirt. He clears his throat, “So Ms. Y/l/n, would you like to tell me your daily schedule?” “Sure, Mr. Seresin. I wake up at 6:00 for my workout, then I walk home and shower. Right now I am in the writing stage, so I will set up my laptop at home or a coffee shop and write. Dinner with friends when I feel like it, but usually I just cook at home. Then I’ll watch something on tv and go to bed around 10. Also, you can call me Y/n.” He nods and continues to stare straight ahead at the road. After a few minutes I break the silence, “What’s your first name?” His green eyes pierce mine, “Jake. But Ms. Y/l/n, let me be clear about something. I am your bodyguard. You are my client. We are not friends.” I nod, turning to look out the window. This is going to be a long four years.

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*1 month later*

“You can’t be serious!” Jake calmly sets down his coffee, “You can book private sessions, but no more group Pilates.” “Why not?” He doesn’t even look up from the newspaper, “Because I don’t know who will be in the class, therefore I do not have time to properly vet them.” I throw my bag over my shoulder and head to the door. He follows, “Where do you think you are going?” “Pilates. You work for me, remember?” “It’s not a good idea.” I roll my eyes, “What’s not a good idea?” His green eyes darken as he leans in, “Disobeying my orders.” A weird warmth starts spreading in my stomach. “Watch me.” I start walking out of my brownstone and he follows, begrudgingly. As soon as I get to class I see my friend, Glen. He walks right up and hugs me, “Hey, darling! I’ve missed you!” I smile, “You’re finally back! Pilates hasn’t been the same without you.” We put our things away, chatting about the movie he just came back from filming in Australia. As we walk into the room, Glen places his hand on my lower back and for a split second I swear Jake’s jaw twitches. His green eyes sear into Glen throughout the whole class. Afterwards, we say our goodbyes and I follow Jake towards my home. After a minute of walking in silence, Jake furrows his brow, “Who was that?” I chuckle, knowing immediately who he is talking about. “That’s Glen. He’s a… friend.” Jake’s next words come out low, “Yeah he seemed a little too friendly.” “Oh be quiet. He doesn’t see me like that. I mean look at him and then look at me.” The muscle in his jaw twitches again.

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*The following week*

Writing had completely taken over my days. The last time I left the house was when I saw Glen at Pilates. I’m writing by my window and Jake is in the living room when my phone rings. “Hey! …. Oh that would be great! …. Okay, see you then.” I set down my phone and get back to writing. Jake walks over, “Who will you be seeing?” Without looking up I answer, “Glen. He would like to go to dinner.” His whole body tenses, “When and where?” “Tonight and I don’t know. He’s going to pick me up.” “No.” I turn to meet his green eyes that are burning with something I can’t identify, “What did you say?” He crosses his muscular arms, “I said no. He’s not picking you up and you aren’t going to a restaurant that I can’t check ahead of time.” I stand up, our faces inches away from each other, “I am going whether you like it or not. You can drive and sit a table away, or you can take the night off.” His cologne is distracting me. His voice lowers, “What did I tell you about disobeying me?” I start walking away, swaying my hips more than usual, “I’m going to shower. Be ready in an hour.”

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After checking myself a hundred times in the mirror, I decide I am ready. The only thing I can’t decide is if I am getting dolled up for Glen or Jake. Something about those damn green eyes. I decided on a mini skirt, baggy sweater, tights, and my favorite pair of boots. Jake is by the bottom of the stairs and I feel the heat of his eyes on me. There’s a knock at the door and I run over. Glen is smiling, “You look beautiful.” He wraps me in his arms, “Thank you! Mr. Seresin is going to drive. He’s more paranoid than my last detail.” Jake’s body looks stiff as a board as Glen smiles over at him, “No worries. You ready to go?” With his hand on my lower back he guides me to the black SUV, opening the door and all. We have been good friends for a while, and I would be lying if I said I never thought about him romantically. He is so kind, smart, funny, and attractive. I was shocked when he asked me to dinner, because he usually is seen out with actresses and models. We pull up to my favorite restaurant and Glen smiles. I follow him in, trying to forget about the shadow following us. It’s hard to ignore him when he is staring daggers at Glen the entire night.

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Dinner is wonderful and afterwards Glen walks me to my front door. Jake is standing at the bottom of the steps, still staring daggers. “Thank you for dinner. I had a great time.” Glen smiles, “You’re welcome darling. Maybe one of these days we could grab coffee after Pilates?” “I’d love that.” Glen’s eyes glance down to my lips, but he leans in for a hug. He kisses my cheek and I wave as he walks to his car. Jake follows me inside and I throw my hands in the air, “You have GOT to be KIDDING me! He’s not going to kiss me while you’re staring at him like you want to kill him!” Jake shrugs, “A real man wouldn’t have cared.” “You’re impossible!” He walks closer to me and his voice is gravely, “My job is to keep you safe. I don’t care if that upsets you or the little pretty boys you want to date.” I lean in, “Seemed like you were the one that was upset, Mr. Seresin.” I turn around, starting to walk away. His calloused hand grabs my wrist and spins me back around. His voice is barely above a whisper, “You are playing a dangerous game here, Ms. Y/l/n.” My heart feels like it is beating out of my chest. Heat rises to my cheeks and I pray he doesn’t notice. I lean in, smirking, “Good thing that’s my favorite kind.” Twisting my wrist out of his hand, I head up to bed.

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*3 months later*

“Wanna grab a coffee? I’ll walk you home.” I smile while I pack my Pilates bag, “Yeah, that’d be great.” Glen grabs my bag and throws it over his shoulder as I follow him to the cafe. “So, how was England?” He sighs, “Cold, rainy, gray… no you. But I think the movie will be great.” I nudge his arm, “I’m sure it will be. They always are.” He blushes and grabs our coffees. We start the walk back to my house and I almost forget Jake is there. Almost. A couple of stray paparazzi see Glen and run over. Before we have time to react, Jake pulls us into an alley. His entire body is covering mine and his hand is hovering over his gun. Heat is radiating from his body. His sculpted body is pressing into mine with every breath. After I get my breathing under control, I place my hand on his chest, “It was just the paparazzi. I’m sure they’re gone by now.” I feel his heartbeat, strong and steady. He back away, allowing us to continue walking home. Glen smiles at me, “Seems like he’s really good at his job.” I sigh, “Yeah, it makes up for how aggravating he is.” We chuckle and stop at my front door. Glen kisses my cheek, “Have a good writing day, darling.” I smile, “Thank you. Let me know if you need me to edit that script.” His thumb brushes my cheek, “Will do.” I wave as he walks back to his house up the street. As I walk inside I grab my computer to get set up, and Jake is chuckling to himself. “What’s so funny, Mr. Seresin?” Jake smirks, “Maybe he just isn’t good at aiming?” “Can you do me a favor and just stay out of my love life?” His smirk spreads, “There doesn’t seem to be one to stay out of.” I stand up, poking his chest hard, “Thanks. to. you. I’m not getting any younger over here!” He scoffs, “Calm down. What are you, 24?” “25 next month. How old are you? 40?” He puts his hand on his chest, “Ouch. I’m 38.” I shrug, “Close enough. Can we make a deal?” He raises his eyebrow, “I’m listening…” “You let me have Glen over, unaccompanied. You can have the whole night off.” His jaw twitches, “Not a chance.” I inch closer to him, “I have needs.” His green eyes darken, “Not my problem.” I storm up to my room, slamming the door. Jake is going to be the death of me.

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*2 weeks later*

It’s Saturday, so I decide to sleep in. I finally head downstairs for coffee, but I decide to stay in my pajamas. I am frustrated and bored and decide it will at least be funny to mess with Jake. Oh and my pajamas? It’s a silky pink slip with lace around the edges. Jake is at the breakfast table, going through some files. “G’morning Mr. Seresin.” Without looking up he responds, “Morning Ms. Y/l/n.” I start to make my latte, making lots of noise on purpose. I feel his gaze on me so I reach up for my mug, exposing more of my thighs. He coughs, taking a sip of his coffee. Once I have my latte, I sit across from him. My phone rings, “Hey Dad! … Oh, really? … No, I understand. … Some other time, okay? … Yeah, Glen is great. He’s doing a press tour right now. … I miss you too. …. Love you, bye.” I blink the tears away from my eyes and sip my coffee. Jake furrows his brow, “What’s wrong?” “It’s nothing. It’s stupid, really. Dad can’t spend my birthday with me this year, he has some important meeting that came up.” His jaw twitches, “Is Glen going to spend your birthday with you?” I shake my head, “He’ll still be on his press tour.” Still reading, Jake asks, “What do you usually do with your Father?” I look down at my latte, tears threatening to spill over, “It’s always the one day I get him to myself. No cellphone. No assistants. We’ll play chess, catch up on life, and he always cooks us dinner. Then we watch our favorite movie, The Sound of Music.” I swear a real smile flashes across Jake’s face, gone as soon as it appears. He clears his throat, “That sounds nice. It must be hard sharing him with the world like that.” A tear falls down and I wipe it quickly, hoping Jake didn’t see. In a moment of vulnerability, I decide to tell him something I haven’t spoken aloud before. “My friends say they don’t understand why I am unsure about Glen. It’s not that he isn’t nice or good looking, I just know I’d have to share him with the world. I already have to be second for my Father… I just want to be first for someone.” Sadness crosses Jake’s eyes. He blinks it away, “You will be to someone.”

[ladykailitha]

Share With Me One Love, One Life Time Part 3

Hey, guys! We are moving right along with this story, and I think we're gonna hit 8 chapters if everything goes to plan. Fingers crossed!

So much happens in this chapter, like sooo so much it would take as long listing it as it would for you to just read it.

Enjoy!

Part 1 Part 2

~

Steve was on the walkie talkies as much as he could spare when they weren’t looking into the issue of Vecna, he didn’t want Eddie to feel like they’d forgotten him.

Nancy had gone to Wayne first thing in the morning.

“Mr. Munson?” she asked timidly. “I’m Nancy Wheeler.”

“Ah,” Wayne said dryly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back. “I don’t have my shot gun or you’d be facing its double barrel, I’m afraid. I know what you did to Steve, you and I aren’t gonna get cozy anytime soon.”

Nancy winced. “Yeah, I know. But I’m here about Eddie.” She inched forward, nervously picking at her fingernails.

Wayne glared at her and took a step back. “Dr. Owens has already been in touch and I’ve been forcibly removed from my home. They think this another Upside Down fuckery.”

“Yeah,” she said, looking at the ground. “Steve and Eddie sent me because if the police or anyone else are watching you, then it won’t link back to them. They’ll just see some nosy Parker hoping to get her first big scoop.”

Wayne licked his lips nice and slow. “I can see sense in that, I suppose. So my boy is safe?”

“Yes,” Nancy said quickly. “But with the cops thinking he did it, I don’t know how long that’s going to be true.”

“My boy didn’t do that,” Wayne growled. “He wouldn’t. He’s not in league with whatever is doing this and you best remember that.”

“I don’t think he had anything to do with it either,” she hastened to reply. “We know what people look and act like when they’re being controlled and he doesn’t display any of the symptoms.”

Wayne eyed her suspiciously and then nodded curtly. “What are you next moves?”

~

“No.”

Robin and Nancy looked at each other in shocked anger.

“Are you suggesting that we would need a big tough guy to go to a psychiatric hospital?” Robin sneered.

Wayne crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, that is exactly what I’m saying. Because what happens if he attacks one of you before the orderly can get to him? Say oops, when he snaps one of your necks?”

Nancy started stammering and um’ing and ah’ing while Robin stared at him wide eyed and in shock. Steve pursed his lips and waved at Wayne, indicating he had a point.

“If you’re not going to listen to me,” he huffed, “maybe you’ll listen to him. Because honestly that’s only the worst case scenario, but the others aren’t much better. What happens if you get caught?”

“Well,” Nancy huffed as she scrambled for an answer, “I mean...it’s worked for us in the past.”

“You’re not going and that’s final,” Wayne growled. “I don’t care if that’s how you always do things before, you’re not doing them now. I get your lot is all that is standing between the end of the world, but we’re going to do things the smart way and not blunder into the right thing by accident.”

Steve smiled and relaxed. He still cared about Nancy and Robin was his best friend, the thought of them talking to that man without help sent shivers down his spine.

“So what’s going to happen is this,” Wayne continued, “Robin and Steve will keep an eye on Max and the other kids, while Nancy and I head to Pennhurst. Is that clear?”

Robin nodded, feeling relieved. She would have gone with Nancy if she was asked to, because someone needed to keep an eye on her. But with Wayne going with her, that was a load off everyone’s shoulders.

Nancy chewed on her lip, she didn’t want anyone to get in her way, and she had deliberately picked Robin because she knew the other girl would do as she said. But judging from the way Wayne was glaring at her, he had figured her out.

“Fine.”

~

“You can’t keep me here,” Max huffed, “in this basement that smells of sweaty boys and old socks.”

“Yes I can,” Steve snapped back. “I don’t want you running off where we can’t see you and have you up and die on us!”

“I’ll call my lawyer!” Max hissed. “So either you drive me or I start walking!”

Steve closed his eyes and then buried his head in hands. He didn’t want to do this. Billy didn’t deserve the letter she was going to read to him. He still had his in his back pocket and he had no intention of reading the thing because they were going to save her. They had to.

He yanked open the car door. “Everyone in!”

Lucas got in first and scooted to the middle as Robin and Max flanked him, Dustin having beaten them to the front seat.

~

They drove out to the cemetery and parked as close as he could to Billy’s grave. He rubbed his chin as he waited.

“If you don’t shut up,” he finally growled at Dustin, who was being a little shit, “I’ll knock out those brand new pearly whites of yours.”

“Whoa, whoa!” Dustin huffed, turning to face Steve with furrowed brows. “Too far!”

“Then you knock it off,” Steve snapped back. “I don’t know what has gotten into you lately, but holy hell the lack of respect coming from that side of the car is immense right now.”

Dustin rolled his eyes as Steve turned his attention back to Max. “That’s it, I’m calling.” He shoved the car door open and slammed it shut.

Lucas was out of the car in a flash. “She said to give her time.”

“I don’t care,” Steve huffed. “It’s been long enough.” He stalked across the cemetery lawn, passed the other tombstones.

He reached her and whirled her around, but gasped when he saw her eyes had gone milky white. “Shit!” He shook her shoulder. “Max! Max!”

Dustin, Lucas, and Robin all came dashing over.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Lucas screamed as Max started to rise into the air. He jumped on her to try and keep her on the ground, but she rose with him attached to her legs.

Steve pushed Dustin toward the car. “Get Wayne and Nancy on the walkie-talkie! We need to know what they found out now!”

Dustin scrambled to do as he was told. Lucas tumbled to the ground and let out a pained cried, Robin rushed to his side.

“Hey, you okay?” she murmured. He nodded, hold his arm. He rubbed it a moment and then stood back on his feet.

“Music!” Dustin screamed. “She needs music!”

Then it was Lucas scrambling for the car, he came back with headphones and a Walkman. He turned the music up as loud as he could. Steve and Robin both grabbed Max’s ankles and dragged her down. Lucas slapped the headphones on her head and turned it down so that they couldn’t hear the music anymore, but that it was still loud enough for Max to hear.

As soon the headphones where on she dropped the rest of the way into Lucas’s waiting arms.

A beat. Then another as they waited.

Max opened her eyes and everyone was sobbing in relief. Dustin immediately replied back to the waiting members of their Party. “She’s safe, she’s safe.”

~

“Steve,” Eddie breathed into the walkie-talkie, panic rising from the pit of his stomach. “Please come in. I’m in trouble.”

“This is Steve,” Steve murmured into his device. “What’s wrong?” The recombined Party stood outside the Creel house, looking for a way in.

“Jason and his goons are outside,” Eddie hissed back. “And they don’t look friendly.”

“Shit!” Steve replied. He turned to the rest of them. “We need someone who can drive to go and get Eddie, Jason is there at the boathouse and he’s trapped.”

“I’m on it!” Wayne said digging out his keys.

“Wait!” Nancy shouted, throwing up her hand to stop him. “Take my car! Your truck will be too recognizable!”

Wayne stared at her for a moment and then tossed her his keys. She tossed him hers. He yanked open the door to her station wagon and sped off.

They all kind of stood there for a moment taking in the absolute terror of Jason coming after Eddie, before Robin broke the silence. “So are we breaking into this joint or what?”

~

Eddie made it out onto the boat in the middle of the lake when Patrick, Jason, and Andy came after him. They were about three feet from shore when Wayne pulled up in Nancy’s station wagon. He popped open the glove box and rolled his eyes. Inside was a revolver, with a sigh he pulled out and checked the rounds.

Fully loaded.

“I might like her a little bit,” he muttered as he hopped out of the car and ran up to the water.

“You boys best not be doing what I think you’re doing,” he growled and cocked the gun, the sound loud and clear on the open water. “I’mma gonna give you to the count of five to turn around, nice and slow.”

Jason and Andy turned around as they were told, but Patrick had kept going and had gotten about halfway to Eddie when he started rising in the air.

“Shit!” Wayne hissed as the boys turned around and saw their friend plunge into the water as if by some unseen force. Which considering this Vecna son of a bitch, was more than accurate.

Andy and Jason ran back into the water and Wayne dived into the open door of Nancy’s station wagon and turned up the radio as loud as it could go.

But it was too late. Patrick shot out of the water again and his limbs twisted unnaturally; the sound of them snapping would haunt Wayne for the rest of his days. Eddie started screaming and he scrambled back in the boat in terror, but he went too far and fell into the water.

“God damn it!” Wayne cursed and ran out to the water, but before he could even get to the shore, Patrick dropped like a stone.

“Shit!’ he cursed again.

Jason started screaming about the devil and how he had come to Hawkins, while Andy actually dove into the water to get their slain friend.

“Cal’s gonna kick my ass for this,” he groused, then hauled off and smacked Jason hard across his face.

Jason stopped screaming , staring at Wayne in wide-eyed shock, holding his cheek.

“Do something useful and go into the house and call the cops,” he snarled, “while I help your friend here bring the body to shore.”

Jason hurried to do what he was told and Wayne waded out to the water to help Andy bring Patrick’s body in.

~

“Wayne...” Calvin Powell growled when he saw him sitting on the hood of Nancy’s car, picking at his nails.

“I’m gonna protect my boy,” Wayne said without looking up from his hands. “And those other boys were gonna kill him.”

Powell turned slowly to Jason and Andy who refused to look at him.

“Was that what you were going to do, boys?” he asked raising an eyebrow. “Or is Mr. Munson overreacting?”

Wayne snorted. “If they were planning on bringing him to justice then why didn’t they call police when there was talk of activity up here? Because that’s why I’m here. I heard the same god damn thing.”

Powell pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily.

“You boys are coming with me,” he said, resigned. “To give your statements about Patrick McKinney’s death to start and then we’ll see about the other thing.”

“I’ll give you my statement,” Wayne said dryly, “but you try to stop from trying to find my boy, you and I are gonna tangle, Cal.”

Powell opened his mouth to argue, but knew it was futile. “Fine.”

He looked over at Wayne and then frowned. “Where’s your truck, Wayne?”

Wayne hopped off the station wagon’s hood and patted it fondly. “Nancy Wheeler was wanting to write about the murder and my boy when I heard some of the neighbors talking about lights on up at the Lipton place. So I wanted to go see if it was Eddie and wouldn’t you know it the damn truck wouldn’t start so Nancy let me take her car.”

Powell nodded, but wisely said nothing. He let Wayne get into the car and drive off, before he turned to the other boys.

“We’re going to stay put until the coroner arrives,” he said pointing back and forth between Jason and Andy, “and then you are going to follow me to the station where you are going to tell me everything!”

~

Tag List: EIGHT SLOTS REMAINING

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @irregular-child @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @beelze-the-bubkiss @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @themoonagainstmers

9- @steddieislife @chaotic-waffle

[utilitycaster]

I read your posts regarding c3 and what could be done differently, and I’ve always thought the way they handled Bertrand Bell was weird. He’s only in three episodes, then dies — c3 was my first campaign, and I had no idea who he was before, nor sure why I should care . Emotionally he didn’t leave an impact on the other characters (although I love Fearne’s jazz monologue) or the audience who has seen him one time before. They use his name for their party name but then don’t bother to see his grave, or remember him at all.

His death also means that we are tied to the moon plot very early on with an emotional weight so it feels like the group have to follow that story thread early on, setting up the mystery too early which then becomes exhausting to the audience. I wonder if c3 would have been better off if they didn’t bother with him, or if Matt and Travis agreed to really wait a while before killing Bertrand off, when they actually want to escalate the plot (would have had accusations of ‘scripting’ but who cares if it’s better narratively.) I think if he died around when Molly died then it would have been stronger (maybe too close a copy of c2, but at least that worked?)

I think a planned player character death can still be shocking and dramatic to the other players who weren’t expecting it, but how c3 executed it feels like a nothing burger and a waste of time. I don’t really know what would have changed if we just had Chetney at the start.

I'm going to be totally honest: I disagree strongly and I think you are assigning blame to a completely wrong place. That doesn't mean that you can't feel this moment failed to land (though I think that too is a criticism more of the overall campaign) but the concept of having a character show up, be quickly killed, and be replaced by the actual character isn't a particularly new one, doesn't require you to have a pre-existing attachment to the initial character for it to be a fun concept. It also, in my opinion, did serve a good purpose and frankly Bertrand had, in his three episodes, a stronger and clearer arc than several party members who have had over a hundred episodes.

I may put this specific piece in a separate post because I believe it's a requirement for understanding the failings of Campaign 3 but: A lot of discussion positions Campaign 3 as the story of Bells Hells, who were ill served by the Moon Plot. This is, in my opinion, incorrect. Campaign 3 is the Moon Plot Campaign, in which Bells Hells are ill-suited characters pushed through said plot because they happened to be played by the cast members. And to that end, I think that actually, introducing the moon plot immediately was a good idea. The problem was that the execution of that mystery was very poorly done. Bertrand led the party to Eshteross, and was then not long thereafter killed by a group of people working to destabilize the Chandei Quorum on behalf of Armand Treshi, so that he could bring in the Paragon's Call as a means of reinstating order in Jrusar. This presumably would also help them because then they wouldn't have to use Jiana as a middlewoman for the shipments they were receiving via her in Jrusar, and would generally increase their power. Bells Hells found out this was happening and thwarted it, but Treshi escaped.

This is when the plot began to become a mess, and while there were plenty of further opportunities to right it, I think basing the entirety of the early campaign in Jrusar and Bassuras, and severely paring down what was done in Bassuras [probably a whole other post but I'd have had Treshi remain captured in Jrusar but give up the information, making Bassuras entirely a data gathering mission, thus freeing up a lot of time in Bassuras for personal errands and bonding time] would have fixed a lot of the issues.

Again, that doesn't mean the concept worked for you, but this isn't even rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic - it's complaining about the meal that was served on the titanic 4 days prior to them hitting the iceberg.

[bluem1ngs]

Hey, Jude

The sound of classical music

completely takes over the old church.

A girl comes to stand besides him, and she tells him, “sorry.”

She was so breathtakingly beautiful that it took his breath away. She wore a long yellow satin dress, matching with the other bridesmaids but she stood out in a good way.

Her brown hair was curled and voluminous, falling over her slender shoulders & she held a pretty bouquet of flowers.

A laugh left her lips, as she exchanged glances with another bridesmaids.

She only then remembered about the man besides her, whom she would spend the next few hours with.

“Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself.” she said, her voice soft & delicate.

“I’m Esmeralda.” she tells him, a smile on her lips, as she held her hand out for him to shake.

He exchanges her kind and polite gesture by shaking her hand, “Jude.”

It’s silent for a moment, and the two only gaze off at their surroundings.

Just as she was about to say something, to ease the almost awkward silence, he began to speak.

The two looked at each other in embarrassment, but soon found their alike timing humorous.

She laughs, looking down and recollecting herself, “Sorry, you can go first.”

“Oh, I was just going to say how beautiful of a day it is, in hopes of sparking up a conversation, but I’ve now realized how stupid that sounds.”

She found his words funny, a smile overtaking her lips once again.

The ceremony was beginning, and the doors opened. She interlinked their arms together, and they began walking down the aisle together.

As he let go of her arm, so they could go their separate ways, the two shared a glance and a smile. Throughout the ceremony, he found himself staring at her, hoping her gaze would find his.

“You may kiss the bride.” the priest announced, and claps and cheers took over the old-fashioned church.

He clapped along with the guests, with a smile on his face. His gaze found that of hers, who as the same as him, clapped and that beautiful smile of hers overtook her lips.

“Cheers!” the groomsmen all cheer, and down the champagne.

He twirls the glass in his palm and takes a sip, experiencing a scorching sensation in his throat.

He watches as she glances over at him, and said something to her friends before walking over to him.

“Why aren’t you enjoying yourself?” she asks, with a mixture of mischief and coy.

He tells her, before taking a sip of his drink, “Just had to get away from the crowd for a bit.”

She nods, knowing what he meant.

“Hey, Jude,” the two looked over at the groom and groomsmen, “Why don’t you stop flirting with Esme and join us for another drink!”

They both turn over to each other, with smiles on their lips.

“I’ll leave you to it.” she said to him, and just as she turns to walk away he stops her.

“No, actually, I want to keep talking to you.”

She turns fully around to face him, and nods her head with a slight smile grazing her lips.

With a wave of the hand, he told his mates he would catch up with them later.

He follows behind her, entering the empty mansion.

She gently held his hand through the hallways until they found a room.

The two sat in-front of a fireplace. The parlor had a 1920s feel to it with its white engravings, lace curtains, and floral bed linens, yet it was comforting.

“So, Jude, how do you know the groom?” she asks him, taking a sip from her glass.

“I met George in secondary school. Before, I played football for an academy, I would spend my days playing with those fools.” he laughs, thinking back at those days.

“But enough of me.. how’d you meet the bride?”

“Oh, me and Olivia met at university. Funny thing is.. I met her at a party because that night I had found out my boyfriend of a few months was cheating on me,” she paused for a moment, and only the sound of wood burning was heard, “when she found out she got her drink and poured it all over him, and since then we’ve been inseparable.”

He saw the way the sadness from her face disappeared as she spoke about her true friend.

“What a jerk.. he must’ve been blind.” he tells her.

She almost laughs, “Please. Okay, I guess I’m next. Um, what do you want most in life?”

“I, uh, I want to continue playing football for the rest of my life.”

She watched him with a smile, seeing as how happy the sport made him.

“What about you? What do you want?” he asks her, with such true sincerity.

“Well, I’m already doing what I want to do most. I currently work as a teacher for year r, and I really love it.. I love teaching the children and watching them grow.” the sparkle in her eye grew, as she talked about all the memories she’s made since she began teaching.

He watched her with such delicately, admiring her beauty, and one could safely assume that from the look on his face in that moment, that he was in love with her.

“Do you have a dream?” he suddenly asks her, taking her by surprise for a moment.

She mulls her response for a while, “It’s always been a dream of mine to become a singer.”

He looks at her with a smile, that caused to only smile shyly at him.

“Stop it, you’re making me shy.” she sheepishly smiled at him.

He only continued to smile at her, taking in how beautiful that smile of hers was.

He stands up, approaching the piano that sat behind them.

“Can you sing a song for me?”

She looked up at him, with such timorous and reluctant and then stood up, sitting down in-front of the piano.

For a moment, only the sound of wood burning and fire cackling was heard, just as she played the first notes of the song.

“Hey Jude, don’t make it bad.” she began singing, and this caused a sly laugh to leave his lips, making her smile grow wider.

“Take a sad song and make it better.

Remember.. to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better.”

He listened intently to her voice, and it sent chills down his spine. It was beautiful.

“Hey Jude, don’t be afraid.

You were made to go out and get her.

The minute you let her under your skin,

Then you begin to make it better.”

He saw the way her fingers crossed the piano smoothly, as she played the notes beautifully.

“And anytime you feel the pain.. hey, Jude, refrain, don’t carry the world upon your shoulder. For well you know that it’s a fool, who plays it cool, by making his world a little colder, na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na..”

She ends the song with those last notes, and as she played the last note, she heard him clapping.

She looked over at him with a smile, smoothing down her dress when she stood up.

“That was beautiful. You have an amazing voice, Esme.” he told her, approaching her slowly.

“Thank you.” she spoke softly.

“I like the song you sang.. it really hit close to home.” he said in a teasingly way as that smile of his formed onto his lips.

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself.” she told him, with a slight push to his chest.

He only stared at her with a smile, and for a moment, time fell still.

He kissed her. It was delicate & slow. The moonlight reflecting onto their faces, as they shared a sweet kiss.

"Hey, Jude," he mumbles, making her chuckle.

He smiles at her and says, "Sorry, it's just stuck in my head."

"Right." she laughs, smiling back at him.

"Na-na-na," he sang, and began to sway with her in his arms.

Her laughter made his heart race uncontrollably.

He set his hands on her waist and they began to dance to the music, hand in hand, slowly, rhythmically.

He only focused on her. She looked past his shoulder, and she looked so beautiful there in his arms.

He took in every nuance of her as he twirled her around.

"Na-na-na-na-na-na, hey, Jude," the two sung together.

In that moment, he knew it would be the beginning of something good, and he was right.

[vshiftsss]

WELCOME TO EVIE’S SWEETS! - (BAKERY DR INTRO)

hello everyone!

i’m aware i’ve posted 50 million times today but i don’t care, i’m motivated and i just remembered i had a script for this dr! this post is more of a yap session than anything else.

so, as the title says, this is a bakery dr. i’m going to live my best life baking cookies and making cute lattes for my customers. i’m debating on naming the bakery either evie’s sweets or eve’s book nook, but i’m not sure yet. i’ll figure it out eventually. but yeah, the whole gimmick of my bakery is that it’s also a bookstore! there will be staff picks, as well as a shelf for free books people donate, check out, and return. they can take a book, as long as they donate another one.

in terms of stuff that we’ll sell, there will be seasonal baked goods, drinks, and even some merch (cute stuff like bookmarks, coasters, keychains, etc). we’ll have events such as trivia night, book club, dnd campaigns run by staff (or anyone who volunteers), and live music sometimes.

now, onto the fun part!

i wanted to add some pizzazz to the concept of the dr because while i do love baking, i also need a good storyline. so, on top of it being a bakery dr, everyone has a soulmate. i considered doing the typical tropes of, like, the red string connecting the two soulmates, or a name being tattooed on your wrist. but instead, i scripted that you’ll see your soulmate in your dreams. they’ll always be in any dream you have, either as the main focus or a random background character that appears for five seconds.

i know my s/o’s my soulmate as soon as he walks into the shop. it’s rainy and dark, there’s nobody else in the bakery, and i’m setting up to close…and then he walks in. raindrops clinging to the wool of his overcoat, tie loosened just enough to show he’s finally off work, glossy dress shoes clicking against the dark oak planks. i turn to inform him that we’re not taking orders, but then, my heart stops.

i’ve seen those eyes before. those murky pools of russet brown, staring back at me expectantly. as if he was waiting for something. a kiss, perhaps? a joyous embrace celebrating the unity of two star crossed lovers?

no. he asks if we’re still open, and he’s waiting for my answer.

he has no clue we’re meant to be together. now i have to be the one to make him realize that the concept of soulmates is very much real — and that he’s supposed to be mine.

how will i deal with the slow burn? how will i cope with the fact that this guy won’t even like me for ages?

who knows. but at least i can make cookies for him!

END OF INTRO - HAPPY SHIFTING!

taglist… @lcvalia

[lowkaylove]

Anything Less Than, Everything & More

Pairings: Sylus x MC

Please be kind. This is my first ever fic.

CW: Angst, MC remembers everything, comparing herself to past!MC, hurt/comfort, Sylus’s horns make an appearance, Mephie is the best boy, PTSD, feelings of survivor’s guilt/shame, references to Dragon!Sylus’s death, please let me know if I’m missing any tags (I’m bad at this)

Notes: not beta read-we explode like Josephine. Not really edited as I have never written anything before in my life. I’m not creative, I’m just hyperfixated on fictional men that a girl can only dream of.

Prompt: You remember everything. And Sylus couldn’t be happier. You both could finally move forward and conquer the world like you were always meant to do. The problem is…you realize that you’re not her…and you never will be. She was enough for him to sacrifice his life for. Who the hell are you to deserve that kind of devotion from a man like Sylus? Honestly, who are you to demand anything from him after everything he went through to find her, only to end up with your version of the woman he loved. The one who showed him nothing but undeserved hatred and disgust in the beginning. A fucking rookie hunter with a mediocre evol at best. Someone who was useless to him from the beginning.

Why couldn’t you just be her? Doesn’t Sylus deserve to be happy? Maybe…if you can’t be her…maybe there’s a way to become useful and worthy of a little more of his time, however short it will last.

Prologue

You barely make it to your bed after an exhausting day.

It’s been almost nonstop missions for the last month, one after the other. And when you’re not on a mission, you got a second job at a boutique thanks to a recommendation from Rafayel to the owner. You still need to figure out a way to pay him back for his help.

For now, you’ve just been less of a brat when you work for him and will cater to his every whim so he’ll hire you for more bodyguard work.

Truly, nothing has exhausted you more physically. But it’s nothing compared to the mental toll you’ve suffered since a little over 2 months ago. But you are determined that this will all be worth it in the end.

Sylus is counting on you, and you won’t fail him this time.

2 months ago

It happened all at once.

Sylus had taken you to a field of flowers to watch the sunset. A perfect date as you two grew closer.

After settling down on the hillside, you couldn’t take your eyes off of the beautiful flora that surrounded you. Bold and intimidating red flowers blossomed all around you. The air felt familiar. Sylus felt a little too familiar and yet you swore you’ve never been here before.

After enjoying a small picnic, you stand up to stretch your limbs, gazing out towards the horizon. “It’s really beautiful out here, Sylus. I’ve never seen these flowers before, but the sunset makes the hills looks like they’re covered in rubies.”

“A fitting description, sweetie. The hills are bathed in rubies as far as the eyes can see.” But Sylus’s gaze rests on your silhouette turned away from him, his eyes filled with longing and devotion like no other.

Your heart clenches at his words. A sudden pang sends a tremor through your body. You’ve heard those word before…where have you heard them before?

“Sweetie?” Sylus calls out to you, concerned.

You turn to find him with one leg bent, arm resting on the knee. The other leg is stretched out. He removed his leather jacket and looks comfortable in is burgundy sweater and black denim. His eyes are full of worry though.

Then, images flash before you. Sylus, sitting the exact way he is now, but something is off. This Sylus is different. Black scales adorn his skin. His outfit does little to cover his chest and abdomen, a red gem rests in the middle of his chest.

This Sylus has horns. A tail.

This Sylus isn’t a human.

He is a Dragon.

My dragon is gone.

All of a sudden, an entirely different life floods your vision. You’re there, and so is Sylus. But it’s somewhere you’ve never been. The flowers on the hill shine under the sun. An organ plays beautifully in the distance. A beautiful Dragon carries you across vaguely familiar lands. It’s so beautiful, but all too much at the same time.

Pain sears through your head and you cry out. Your hands move to your temples as you land on your knees. They cover your ears as you moan in pain.

“Kitten!” Sylus rushed to you, he places his hands over yours then trails them down to your elbows and up to your shoulders. “Sweetie, what’s happening?”

It felt as if your head was splitting open. Your eyes were clenched shut but the visions were clear behind your eyelids.

Stayrus? …Can I call you a name that sounds similar? How does Sylus sound?

“Sweetheart, please…look at me…” You faintly hear Sylus’s voice break as if he’s in pain as well.

Sing that song again.

You feel the world spinning as this other Sylus rolls the both of you down a hill of flowers.

Only you and this flower can touch me here…

Your lungs are heavy with exhaustion as you feel your throat tighten. Tears run down your face as you finally look up at Sylus.

“S-Sylus…it hurts…” His eyes widen in panic before checking you over for an injury that isn’t there.

Taurus City can have flowers bloom everywhere…as far as the eye can see…

“You’re okay, sweetie…is it your heart? The Aether core?” Vermillion eyes scan over your face in worry.

But only for one person.

A kiss that never happened. It was all in your head. An illusion the both of you conjured to survive the pain and loss of each other.

You reach up, your shaky hands hovering over Sylus’s head…where his horns should be.

You must press on.

Pain sweeps over your entire body in waves. Your eyes clench shut again. Bile rises in your throat. You know exactly what happens next. You’ve lived this before. You were the one who committed this sin against your beloved.

Sylus won’t stop saying your name, desperate to grab your attention away from the pain your feeling. You faintly hear him shouting in the distance. “Luke! Kieran! Get a doctor to meet us at the base!” The twins respond from a speaker, likely Sylus’s phone.

Because…if you don’t…there’s no going back…

He’s gone. You’re alone in the field this time. You killed your Dragon, and now he’s gone. You remember the agony tearing out of your throat as you wail into the air, mourning the wonderful life you had lost, and the one you never got to have with your dragon.

And then…silence.

Air fills your lungs again. Your entire body goes slack and falls into Sylus’s embrace. You cough and choke on the oxygen overwhelming your senses. The tears don’t stop falling. The tremors do not leave your hands. And Sylus…oh Sylus

Labored breaths rack your entire body. Pain and relief clash together as you try to get your bearings.

“Kitten…are…are you o-okay?” His voice is shaky, as if he’s hopeful, yet afraid the agony isn’t over.

As you continue to breathe heavy and gasp for air, whimpers escape your lips as you nod weakly.

“I-I think I’m o-okay.” Your breathing eventually evens out.

Sylus takes this as a sign that he can touch you without causing any pain. His hands cup your cheeks as he lifts your gaze to his.

“We need to get you home. There is a doctor waiting to check over you. Can you walk, sweetie?” His eyes search your tear-filled ones.

“Wait. Sylus-”

“If not, I don’t mind carrying you. I just don’t want to cause you any pain if I touch you.” Sylus is desperate, frantic to get you somewhere safe. What if he loses you again? He can’t risk that.

A faint smile lifts the corners of your mouth. A sob escaped your lips as you really look at this beautiful man worrying over you.

“Sylus…you could never hurt me. How could you ever think that?” Your hands are hovering over his head again, as if searching for the horns. Maybe they’re hidden by his evol. Maybe he doesn’t have them in this life.

You can only pray that, if he still has them, he didn’t cut them off again like countless times before.

Your voice trembles. “Oh my Dragon…” another sob escaped your lips as Sylus’s heart stops beating for a moment. “I’m so…I’m so sorry.”

Everything stills in the world. Carmine eyes turn glassy as they peer into your very soul. His breaths quicken.

“What…what did you say?” He can’t believe it. He wouldn’t dare hope. This is a trick. Someone has trapped him in an illusion where you remember him. His heart will surely break beyond oblivion. Cursed by his beloved or not, he would not come back after this. This death will be absolute.

“Sylus I-I’m so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. For what I did to you then and in this life.” You can’t stop crying.

A slight mist rolls over Sylus’s eyes. Deep vermillion turns into shining garnets as one tear, then another, and another makes their way down his face. A look of hope and despair is all you can see. He then whispers your name so softly you thought you imagined it.

“How…how did you-? How much do you…remember?” Sylus releases short and shaky breaths with his words. A man of calm and collection and dignity has never looked so terrified and unsure and small.

You’re afraid to answer, but he deserves that at the very least from you. You took everything from him in his last life and condemned him in this one. You owe him this.

You slightly look at your surroundings. “Today is the most I’ve felt at peace in a long time. You gave me that. And in a field of datura flowers no less.” Your gaze lands on him, a small reassuring smile graces your lips.

“You gave me everything I could have ever wanted. You fulfilled every desire I craved. You…you protected me when we were ripped apart.” Your voice breaks on that last word.

A hand cups your cheek. “Sweetie, tell me…please. I need to know.” Sylus knows he sounds desperate, and he doesn’t care. This was everything. And he’ll be damned if this moment is gone before he loses you again.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you tackle him in an embrace. Truly giving yourself to this moment, you leave no room for any misunderstandings.

“I remember everything, Sylus. I remember giving you your name. I remember the mark you left me. We conquered enemies together. We took what was ours and fed into each other’s desires. I remember singing for you. I remember…” Your arms wind tighter around him.

“I remember being ripped apart from you. I remember the datura field. I…I remember being reunited with you once again only to take away everything from you. I remember the…curse I gave you…” Your crimes against him hit you hard.

You suddenly back away, already missing his comforting touch. But you don’t have that right or privilege anymore. You can no longer claim him as yours now that ignorance is out of the question. You remember everything. And now it’s time to repay for your crimes.

Your hands hover in front of you, palms forward in a surrendering position.

“And I’m so sorry, Sylus. I’m so sorry for everything I did. And for all of the pain I caused you. You have no idea how much I wish it was me instead of you…”

Your eyes remain on his as you vow to him, “I swear on this life and every one after that I will make things right. I will do anything you ask. Anything you command of me. I will accept any punishment you demand. Whatever penance you desire to inflict upon me. I swear it…” A small glimmer in your eyes begs Sylus to have mercy, but it is immediately shadowed by all of the guilt. You don’t deserve all of this kindness he’s shown you again. Why hasn’t he tossed you to your demise after all of this? What could you possibly have done to be shown his mercy?

Sylus doesn’t move except for the inhale and exhale movements from his chest.

“Sweetie…do you swear this isn’t a dream? Do you really remember everything?”

You nod, the lump in your throat makes it difficult to formulate words.

Suddenly he’s right in front of you. His movements are frantic again. Tremors run through his hands as they trail up your arms to your shoulders and up your neck to cradle your face again.

“My Sorceress. My beloved…I have waited so long to find you again. You’re as beautiful as that day in the datura fields of Taurus City…I finally found you…” he breathes out the last words with a smile.

“And you are my everything, I wouldn’t dare let any harm come to you. You have nothing to apologize for. I knew that…I knew I was losing myself. If you hadn’t done it, I would’ve…” His voice is choked.

He pressed his forehead against yours, and you bask in his embrace. The warmth from his breath, the soothing touch of his hands, the piercing gaze he has over you make you want to melt in his arms.

“I would’ve done something I’d never forgive myself of. Trust me, my love, the sword going through my chest was the better option.”

Although I feel a semblance of relief from his words, it doesn’t shake away the guilt I feel for cursing him.

“But I cursed you, Sylus. You’ll never truly be free. You’re forever chained to me. And I’m not…I’m not her. Not really. All the possibilities of who I could be in the next life and the next…it’s not fair to you.” My gaze drops in shame.

Sylus’s face turns into one of resolve. “Look at me.” He uses his evol to slightly jerk my head up and look into his eyes.

I start pleading again. “I promise I’ll fix ev-”

“You will do no such thing.”

My watery eyes widen in confusion. “I don’t-I don’t understand…”

He gives me his signature smirk. “My love, I’m a little heartbroken. Even after remembering everything, you still don’t get it.”

“You will do nothing of the sort. I am not chained down to you. I am not here unwillingly. From the very beginning, I swore to move mountains for you, crush your enemies, and give you everything you desired. That hasn’t changed…and it never will.”

After all this time, Sylus finally has you back. And he couldn’t be happier. Everything working up to this moment was worth it.

Externally, your eyes shined with relief that his love for you has held strong all these years. You were beyond elated that you have returned to each other.

Internally, you knew what had to be done. You knew that you had to make things right. You weren’t good enough in this life to deserve a man of Sylus’s caliber. He deserved his Sorceress.

Now you just needed a plan on how to become her, or at least anything better than what you are, before Sylus realizes just how much you pale in comparison to the woman he loved in Taurus City.

Sylus would never accept anything less than her.

Maybe I can do a part 2 if y’all want to get into the rest of what I planned to write. I’m hella self-deprecating and self-sabotaging in my own life, why not be the same in fiction.

Let me know if y’all think this can be something