#that's probably why they get so intense about it

[lizsos]

One Of Them

warning: smut, breeding, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, In-ho being a cocky prick, unsafe sex, ass slapping, mentions of cervix touching (made up kid name) this does not take place in squid game!!

Genre: smut

Ever since you heard about your next door neighbor Mr. Hwang going through a divorce, things have been hell. For you.

From the day he first moved into the apartment, constantly arguing on the phone with his ex wife about whose turn it was to watch his son, Ji-ho .

When Ji-ho is over, everything’s quiet, and you finally get a chance to rest your head and relax in peace. Doing some studying and cleaning in the quiet atmosphere.

You wished the black haired boy would stay for just a day longer, because In-ho is back to his usual self hours later. Bringing in young college girls one after the other. Fucking them hard against his headboard as they let out loud cries of daddy. It was annoying. You couldn't even stay inside anymore to get work done.

At every hour of the day he seemed to be active, fucking through all sorts of women, the shaking of your thin bedroom wall never coming to an end as high pitched moans echoed through.

It was getting to the point where you couldn’t take it. You were so fed up. Didn’t he ever get tired? Tired of promising these young desperate girls to call them back only to throw away their numbers and fuck their friends the next day.

Weeks go by and nothing changes, Ji-ho coming over for a silent three days then leaving again. Giving his father enough time to fuck any feelings for his ex wife out of his system.

You swore you couldn’t take it, you had barely been able to study, occasionally spending an hour or two in a nearby café between classes. When you noticed your grades slipping, your eyes having prominent bags at the lack of sleep, you groan loudly in frustration. Finding your legs moving before you could even process it.

Your fist raising to knock on the man’s door once, then twice, with no answer. You huffed, going in to knock a third time before the door swung open. A tall, muscular man towering over you with a scowl. “What?”

Your eyes widened as you scanned over his body, his perfectly sculpted face, broad shoulders, defined abs, and the very distinct outline in his sweats.

The man cleared his throat, a smirk gracing his face when he startled you out of your intense drooling. “Now, what do we have here?” he chuckled deeply, tilting his head to the side with crossed arms as he rested against the door’s frame. “Here to get your turn sweetheart?”

You gulped, finding it harder to spit out your words as the hwang man stared you down. “I.. I’m here to ask you to keep the noise down, some people have actual work to do.”

In-ho whistled, “Oh? A bold one huh? I like it,” His hand reaching under your chin to make you look fully up at him. “you’re a pretty little thing you know,” he spoke, running his thumb along your bottom lip, “wonder what you’d look like ruined underneath me.”

You ignored the flutter that went off in your pussy, clenching your thighs discreetly as you glared. “Just keep the noise down okay old man? I'm trying to study.”

In-ho could feel his cock grow harder, you were just what he needed. “So i’m an old man now? That’s a first, usually girls like you just call me daddy.” he shrugged, “but it’s okay, you’ll get there.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked away from him, annoyance written all over your face to mask the arousal swirling in your stomach. He’d probably fucked the entire neighborhood by now, including the campus, so you weren’t gonna fall for his sick charms. You just hoped he complied and kept the place quiet, you didn’t need that usual noise the day before your big test.

In-ho had surprisingly did as you asked, and you sighed in content as you read through the pages of your notes. Your pen in your hand finding itself in between your teeth as you bit down softly. You got what you wanted, so why was your mind running wild with thoughts of the Hwang man’s hands on your body as he fucked you like all of those other girls.

You shifted in your seat, one leg over the other to bring stimulation to your needy clit making you whimper softly. You couldn’t let yourself give in you plus didn't want to be one of them.

Another week passed and you once again found yourself in the same noisy predicament. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the man more than twice your age. Way too old for you yet just so.. hot. Hwang In-go had become your fantasy.

And it was unbearable.

Hearing all these moans day and night. Hearing In-ho’s loud grunts and groans as he no doubt left them with the best fuck of their lives.

It was Thursday, and Ji-ho would be coming tomorrow per routine, so you’d finally get a break then. But, you couldn’t deny the fact that you wanted an excuse to go over there. Your face serious as you banged on his door.

You waited a minute, a shirtless In-ho emerging into the door frame as it flew open. In-ho smirked, “Ah, you again.” His sweatpants hung dangerously low beneath the start of his v line, black hair messy as his tongue darted out to swipe across his lips. “Finally came to your senses?”

His last fuck had left right before you came, coincidentally of course.

“N-no.” you objected sternly. “I’m here to ask you again to just be.. what are yo-“

You swallowed hard when he began stalking towards you, a sinister grin on his face as you were backed up against a wall. His breath fanned your head as he bent his neck. Hands on the walls near each side of your face. “Your face says otherwise, sweetheart.”

“No it d-doesn’t.. you’re just a cocky old man preventing me from getting things done.”

In-ho’s brow raised with a deep hearty chuckle, “Back to that nickname i see,” His hand grabbing hold of your cheeks and squeezing them together. “Gonna have to clean that mouth of yours, teach you how to be a good girl.”

You whimpered lowly, feeling wetness pool between your legs as you looked up through your lashes . In-ho’s eyes trailing to your glossy lips as he inhaled sharply. “Don’t worry, this dirty old man’s lips are clean”

Pressing his lips roughly to yours, your eyes widening as you gripped the edge of your skirt with a moan. In-ho smirked against your lips, his hands hooking beneath your legs as he lifted you up. Your frame so much smaller in comparison to his larger one.

In-ho was quick to bring you inside. And you found yourself sitting on the man’s lap, your skirt bunched up at your hips as he hammered up into your wet cunt with brute force. His hands kneading into the flesh of your ass each time you ground your hips onto him.

You let out a loud mewl, his thick cock stretching you out and grazing against your gummy walls as he fucked you deep. Feeling him within your stomach when you cried out. “Mr. Hwang— ah, so- ngh g-ood.”

“That’s not my name sweetheart, try again.” he growled deeply, landing his palm onto your ass in a hard slap. And you whimpered tearfully at the sting. “I-In-ho —” Another harsh smack burning through your flesh making you let out a cry. “Last chance.”

You moaned loudly, your back arching as In-ho slammed into you. “D-daddy, ahh daddy, o-oh fuckk—,”

In-ho hummed in satisfaction, “Look at you, thought i was a dirty old man hmm?” His teeth biting softly at the delicate skin of your neck, his pelvis hitting your red puffy folds relentlessly. “Moaning for me like a little slut, so fucking pretty.”

You let out a shaky cry, “Haah— M-Mr. Hwang,” Your pussy clenched down on his girth, his rough hand making its way around your throat, squeezing the sides and forcing you to look at him. “Not gonna fucking tell you again.”

You mewled, “‘M sorry— nngh,” Your back arching when In-ho bullied his cock deeper into you.

“Still waiting sweetheart ” he grunted, eyes dark as his grip on your throat tightened, your moans and whimpers loud as his thighs noisily met your sticky cunt. “D-addy— ahh- so good,” you cried, feeling his angry tip forcing its way to your cervix, kissing the entrance with each harsh thrust.

“Good fucking girl, you’re getting there” he grinned with a groan. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, your pussy gushing messily onto him as loud squelching sounds filled the room. “Pussy’s so fucking tight— better be on the pill cause i’m botta cum in that pretty pussy, shit.”

“Ah— nngh daddy, ‘m close- gonna cum.” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back and your lips parting in a string of incoherent babbles, In-ho’s thrusts sloppy as he groaned.

“Gonna cum on this old man’s dick yeah?” He teased cockily, “Had so much talk for someone who’s falling apart on my cock.” In-ho grunted, “Bet ya sat there listening like a lil perv, your hand down your panties hmm?”

You shook your head no with a cry, “Uh uh- ahh— wasn’t.”

“Sure about that? Sure you didn’t sit there and fantasize about me fucking you like a little slut?” His hand reached down to rub at your clit, a loud moan escaping your mouth.

Your breathing sped up as you felt a coil buildup in your stomach. Your body shaking with pure ecstasy. You let out a high pitched scream, the stimulation to your g spot making your head go fuzzy. Vision turning white as you clenched down tightly on In-ho ’s cock.

“O-oh fuck— ‘m cumming— ah, cumming daddy.”In-ho’s hand pressed down harder on your throat, the pressure restricting your air flow making you let out a choked mewl. Tears welling in your eyes as his heavy balls smacked against your ass.

“Nngh—” The ring of white thickened at his base as you let out whiny cries. In-ho’s hand working small circles on the sensitive bud before he brought his lips to your ear. His voice deep and gruff as he groaned. “Fuck sweetheart- squeezing me so tight, come on and scream for me.” He breathed, “make a mess on my cock.”

In-ho’s mean pace became too much, a tight pull in your stomach as your mouth fell open, legs trembling with loud cries as an unfamiliar feeling washed over you.

It was heavenly, your brain going dumb and your pupils disappearing behind heavy lids as you screamed loudly, head falling back and nails digging into his shoulders as you fell off the edge.

In-ho never slowing the movement of his hips, still hammering up into you despite the mess you were making on his thighs. Your pussy spraying streams after streams of clear liquid as you arched your hips, grinding back and forth to ride out your squirting orgasm.

“Even fucking louder than any of my previous fucks.” he laughed, “Wonder what the neighbors would say, went from being a whiny little bitch to being the same thing you complained about.”

You let out a whine, In-ho flipping you abruptly onto your back, his hand still around your neck as the position allowing him to hit even deeper. “Fuck,” he grunted, his words in between each thrust. “gonna fucking breed that pussy so deep.” Letting out a low groan at the last thrust, his lips meeting yours in a sloppy kiss as he bottomed out.

A whimper fell past your lips into his when you felt him fill you up, his cum shooting in hot thick spurts along the walls of your cunt.

He smirked as he pulled away, watching you pant heavily. “Would make such a good breeding bunny.” Dipping his fingers past your lips and resting them on the back of your tongue. “Might have to keep you around, can’t be disturbed if you’re the one making the noise now can you?”

You shook your head tiredly, forcing your eyes to stay open as In-ho pulled out of you. His sticky cum seeping out of your fluttering pussy slowly. Your brain was still so clouded, blinking in and out of blurry vision.

In-ho hid the smile threatening to creep up onto his face, his face neutral as he plopped down onto the couch next to you. “Rest if you need to, then leave.” He said nonchalantly, trying to seem like his usual self despite the fact that he had not kicked you out yet. Which was something he never did, let a girl stay any longer than a second after sex.

The man would never admit it, but there was just something about you.

He wanted to make you his pretty little girl.

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 9 - cute note

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: language

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

you and the girls were huddled on sarah's bed as you debriefed the night before, it still not processing with you.

"i mean we left you for 5 SECONDS and i turned around and you two were eating each other" kie laughed

"no like seriously i thought we were gonna have to push harder for project city but it seems you didn't need our help after all." cleo joined in the laughter.

"guys i don't even know like i'm still in shock." you said.

"well was it a good kiss...?" sarah questioined.

"maybe the best i've ever had," you blushed. "but i'm nervous to see him next like what happens now."

"well you have his number," kie started "and you also don't have long because we're actually about to meet them all for lunch!"

"you're fucking joking." you muttered.

"nope!" sarah chimed in. "so let's get you ready."

after a quick outfit change, you left your room to meet the boys downstairs to have a walk around LA and grab some lunch.

you nervously waited for them to appear, but they finally did, rafe leading the group.

he smirked at you as he came to say hi, pulling you into a hug to whisper in your ear "cute note."

your cheeks went red while you pushed him away, turning to jj to say hi to him too.

"good night?" he winked at you.

"shut up jj." you laughed, as john b and pope also bought you into a hug.

"seems like someone had fun." john b laughed with you, and rafe just stood back with his stupid grin on his face, but no sense of shame.

topper however gave you a little disheartened wave, and your stomach dropped slightly, knowing he was probably upset that it wasn't him.

"ready to go?" sarah interrupted much to your happiness.

"yeah let's" cleo replied, now holding hands with pope.

the group made their way down the steps of the hotel, the chatter flowing easily now that everyone was outside and on their way to the street.

you caught jj glancing between you and rafe, his eyebrow raised playfully, before he bumped your shoulder with his. “so, how was last night?” he asked with a grin.

you rolled your eyes. “you’re ridiculous.”

"no i'm serious. i want to know. it's been a long time coming." he was speaking in a hushed voice to avoid rafe's ears.

"what do you mean?" you asked.

"he's been talking about you non stop since he met you. like the dressing room chat before shows has been exhausting." he sighed.

"really? then why did it take so long for him to make a move?"

"because you're mysterious at showing how you feel. plus your sarah's friend and he's always been told to stay away."

"but he didn't stay away from me?" you said.

"i don't think he could even if he tried." and with that, jj joined the rest of the group.

rafe then fell in step next to you, his pace slower than the others as he leaned in, his voice low. “are you avoiding me?” he asked with a playful tone.

you shook your head, “now why would i do that?" you replied.

"thought you'd been freaked out by last night." he replied softly, with a hint of fear in his words.

"i would never," you reassured him. "just trying to figure it out."

"figure what out?" he smirked.

you looked at him with sarcastic eyes, shaking your head.

rafe's eyes softened, his eyes meeting yours with intensity “don’t worry,” he said, “i’m figuring it out too.”

his hand brushed against yours, just barely, but it was enough for the electric connection to spark again, making your heart race. you could feel his gaze on you, but when you looked up at him, he was already looking ahead, as if he hadn't done anything at all.

you both fell into step with the others again, the easy banter resuming, but you couldn't shake the feeling that everything had just shifted—and you weren’t sure whether to lean into it or hold back.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

a/n: happy friday guys!! was struggling on how to approach the morning after so i hope this is ok

taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry  @yesterdaysproblemm @pogueprincesa @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19 @valyrianflower @kaiparkerwifes @judesgfirl @4urvalidation @chillgal135 @drewstarkeyslover @yesshewrites1

i will be taking people off taglist if that don't interact! just as more people want to be added and need to make it fair<3

[leggerefiore]

Eating chocolates with S/O and there's only one left (gasp)

cw: kissing, fluff,

characters: Ingo, Emmet, Nanu, N, Lear, Larry, Grimsley

Somehow, you and your lover found yourselves together on the couch relaxing. A show that neither of you were paying attention to played on the television. Your head rested on their shoulder as your mind drifted into possible things to do. They rested their own atop yours. Between you both say a box of chocolate that had been bought at some point by one of you. A hand went to grab another one, opting to indulge oneself in the holiday's festivity, but it bumped into another. Your eyes drew down to the box. Only one candy remained. Your partner's gaze met your own. Silence followed.

▲Ingo▼

● The older twin stared for a moment before shaking his head. “Ah, go ahead, dearest,” his voice was gentle, “I'm not the biggest fan of sugary things as it is…” He offered the chocolate to you with a soft smile. “Besides, I only was eating them since you were so kind as to get them for me.” All you could do was take the small confection and eat it. Ingo then caught you off-guard when he brought his thumb in the swipe, the corner of your mouth. “… There was a bit of chocolate there,” his cheeks darkened with colour, “Ah, dearest… I truly love you.” A gentle kiss was pressed to your lips. The chocolate tasted a little sweeter.

▽Emmet△

○ The younger twin gazed at you strangely. His lips were still tugged up into the smile that remained ever present on his face. A tilt of his head had him look even more odd. “…” it was eerily silent. His hand did not move from the chocolate. You gazed down at it. Right. “… Darling,” his voice finally came out. His gaze was piercing right through you. Certainly, Emmet was known for his love of sweets. There was not a chance that he was backing down from this. It felt like a losing battle. He liked winning more than anything else. Pulling back your hand, you watched him happily eat the chocolate. Though, his gaze fell back on you. Arms wrapped around you quickly and pulled you into him. “Thank you verrrry much,” he cooed and nuzzled his face into your nape. Well, at least he was being polite.

🐈‍⬛️Nanu❤️‍🩹

🌑 The Kahuna stared for a moment before pulling back his hand. He was not the type to engage himself in something so intensely. Really, he probably should not be eating so much sugar in one sitting. Besides, he only really cared about letting you be happy. “Go ahead,” he motioned his hand, “I got them for you.” You took the chocolate and ate it while his attention drifted back to the screen. However, he was caught unawares when you suddenly leaned in to peck his cheek. His body tensed for a moment before he relaxed. Shaking his head, he sighed. Great, now he seemed like some gentleman.

🌿N👑

🟢 The green-haired man pulled back his hand. He blinked. What did people do in this situation? Was it whoever reached first? Whoever had the least? Neither of you had been paying attention to that. Was there a formula that he could use— His thoughts were interrupted by the last piece of chocolate being pressed into his mouth. You gave him a playful grin. He ate the chocolate with little thought. “… Thank you,” he nodded, “Why did you do that?” N was genuinely curious. A shrug from you left him more lost. He had thought you wanted the chocolate. Before he could ask another question, your lips pressed to his own. It seemed there would be no answers to your actions.

👑Lear💎

🪙 The prince pulled back his hand without any hesitation. His gaze was masked behind those sunglasses that he always insisted on wearing. For a moment, the silence permeated. Your hand was pulled back, too. Then, he reached forward and picked up the chocolate. “… Here, darling,” he pressed the candy to your lips. Letting him feed it to you, that lopsided grin of his spread across his face. “I knew you would love that chocolate,” Lear was plainly smug about you enjoying his gift. Not wanting to let his ego get too big, you leaned in to kiss him. He tensed for a moment before completely returning the affection. You accidentally made his ego even bigger.

💼Larry🏢

🍙 The businessman retracted his hand without any hesitation. You watched as he attempted to act as if that had not happened. Larry did not exactly have the biggest sweet tooth, but he was not opposed to snacking either. It was clear that he wished for you to have the last piece without speaking, likely determining it to be the most placating thing to do. “… Sorry,” he mumbled. You hatched a plan. Placing the chocolate between your lips, you leaned in for a kiss. The other half went into his mouth. Pulling away, you both got to eat your respective pieces. The older man's face was his usual facade. “Thank you, dear,” he tried to pretend that did not just happen.

♠️Grimsley❤️

♤ The gambler did not move his hand back. Did he care that much about chocolate? Possibly. His typical smirk never budged as he snatched the candy away and quickly ate it. You stared at him in slight annoyance, but honestly, you had expected it from him. What proceeded to catch you unawares was him leaning in and pressing his lips to your own. It turned into something more passionate, and the remaining hint of chocolate came through from the kiss. He broke it off with that horrible grin of his. “Did you enjoy it, darling?” his voice was teasing. Your glare made him only chuckle.

[mortish-writes]

I'm considering adding another route following the first seven nights. I've gotten various requests over the past few weeks and this encompasses most of the types of story lines that have been requested. Each of these routes would come with a unique prologue and MC. I'll explain each one below.

M/F/M - Storyline where Valdricht and Serax aren't in a relationship. You can choose to be with both of them in an MFM relationship or split off with one. I think the trickiest aspect of this one is the MF options. Valdricht/MC would be a piece of cake, but if it's just you and Serax, it'll be really difficult to get him to engage with the epic gods and monsters story line. He'd rather laze about a brothel and tell stories of slaying dragons than actually slaying them. It might be kind of fun to write all the ways he attempts to avoid doing anything that will advance the plot. It might also turn into a brothel simulator.

Priest - You'd play as a male MC raised within the Elodari faith with a backstory that's pretty intense. Your overall story line would be similar to that of the Heretic route, except with the added struggle of adapting to the female body given to you by The Weaver.

Female Serax - Why does this need its own route? Can't we just click a button and make Serax a lady? Girl, please. It needs an entirely different backstory for Serax, Valdricht, and the MC. Tbh I've given this one the least amount of thought, probably because I know it would be the most fun and I don't want to distract myself. And by least amount of thought, I mean that I have a 20k word outline.

Cultist - Oh boy. Here's some BoS lore for you. This was supposed to be the original story route alongside the Heretic route. I'd planned to do a Light vs Darkness MC route where you could be raised in the Elodari faith as a vestal or raised by fanatical Duskweaver cultists. I realized that it would mean a lot more writing and I'd be significantly delaying the demo launch, so I scrapped it. But it's all still outlined and it's quite different. Rather than being a Cinderella-esque story, you're a venerated child and you're raised in a hidden place with the knowledge that you'll be the mother of a god. To sum it up, you'd play as a sheltered shadow princess.

Anyway, I'll run this poll again later. I think that your opinions might change as you get to know the characters better.

Night IV is coming along well. The intimate scene took some turns I didn't expect and came out even better than I'd hoped. I'm still playing with the Zealot route to see if there's any possibility for that on Night IV, but I don't think there's any scenario in which it feels like intimacy is something she genuinely wants, rather than feels obligated to engage in because of The Weaver. Having grown up on my grandma's stash of 70's bodice rippers about women getting abducted by hot pirates and highland lairds, I could easily write that sort of scene, but I think it would offend modern sensibilities. I'll give it some more thought once I wrap up the main route.

-Mortish

[fourtyforever]

I knowwwww I'm supposed to be working on emergency care but I have the absolute brain worms for the ballet au from opening night so here's 3.5k of ballet max verstappen being the bane of ballet nico rosberg's existence

---

The worst year of Nico’s professional ballet career was also the same year they moved that prodigious blonde freak up from the junior company, which in hindsight might have had something to do with it. 

He showed up to the first rehearsal of the season in his uniform shirt and black tights from the junior company, even though company dancers were allowed to wear anything they wanted, and he stood ram-rod straight at the barre while the rest of the company lounged around waiting for class to start. He had the ugliest haircut Nico had ever seen, but he was good--good enough that Nico understood why they brought him up early, even though he knew that must have sucked big time for the other dancers in the junior company who were his age. 

It hadn’t really registered to Nico, because there had been bigger things on his mind. Things that spent the whole class on the opposite side of the studio from him, looking, frankly, upsettingly good in a loose tank top with the arm holes cut even wider to show off the muscle he had built at that summer intensive in Brazil. Lewis avoided eye contact with Nico, and Nico did the same, but it was a little impossible not to look. Their last season hadn’t ended well, and it didn’t feel like time apart had healed any wounds. Still, Nico didn’t really have attention left over to pay to the new kid until Seb mentioned him after class.

“That boy’s going to give us all a run for our money this year,” he said, following Nico out of the studio to the dressing room. The kid in question was still gathering up his things just out of earshot, totally oblivious to the conversation about him going on just a few good steps away. “Are you worried?”

“No,” said Nico, very confidently, which turned out to be a mistake. “There’s always new dancers. He doesn’t seem that special.”

“He’s good,” grunted Kimi. 

Seb nodded. “I can see why he got moved up on his own.” He looked over at Nico out of the corner of his eye as Nico tried his best to ignore him. “Do you think Lewis is worried?”

Nico shouldered open the door to the dressing room, trying to let it close in Seb’s face. It didn’t work. “I don’t think any of us need to be worried about some moderately good teenager,” he said as Kimi and Seb pushed through the door behind him.

“You’re talking about Max?” asked Daniel. Like usual, he was butt-naked in the middle of the dressing room, forcing Nico to make very pointed eye contact. “He’s pretty good, isn’t he?”

“Someone ought to take him under their wing,” said Seb, elbowing Daniel in the ribs.

Nico scoffed. “Nobody ‘took us under their wing’ when we were starting out, and we turned out fine,” said Nico. 

“Michael,” said Kimi, simply. 

“Yeah, you’re really gonna sit here and say Schumi meant nothing to you?” added Seb, and Nico had to acquiesce. But it had been years since Michael retired, and these days he didn’t feel all that advantaged by the older dancer’s mentorship. 

“We also didn’t get moved up to the company by ourselves out of nowhere,” said Daniel. He looked thoughtfully back at the door that neither Max nor Lewis had come through yet, dick still out for all the world to see. “Must be tough. He could probably use a friend.”

“Save your pity for the kids that didn’t get moved up,” grumbled Nico. He had hoped to get to bitch about Lewis to Seb a little bit, who was always a good listener even though Nico knew he talked with Lewis just as much as he did with Nico. But if everyone wanted to instead focus on the new wunderkind, that was, well, whatever. Nico didn’t care.

---

Nico certainly noticed Max at their first joint mens’ class with the junior company, because it was impossible not to. The kid was a freak. Nico had always been a turner, but Max very nearly matched him when they did à la seconde turns side by side. Then he put the whole junior company and a good chunk of the senior company to shame when they did jumps across the floor, hitting the kind of split in midair that Nico usually only saw from the company ballerinas or from Lewis. His musicality was kind of shit, and his port de bras clearly needed work, but there were certainly worse things to be bad at. 

The only time he made eye contact with Lewis was when Max replaced a single pirouette with a quadruple out of nowhere, meeting and matching Lewis’s shocked face out of force of habit. He regretted it as soon as he looked, but there was a weird sort of comfort in knowing that Lewis was just as unsettled by this new guy as he was. At the beginning of last year, which felt like a lifetime ago, he would have been standing next to Lewis and whispering under his breath about how insane the new kid was. For now, though, he had to be content with stolen glances and ignoring Daniel’s appreciative whistle from behind him. 

---

At the company mixer and pizza party, Nico sat across from Lewis at the same table they always sat at since they started in the lowest level of the junior company, entirely ignoring each other. Max, of course, sat right in between them, with Seb on one side and Daniel on the other. 

“Who do you think will be the cavalier this year?” he asked, his mouth full of pepperoni pizza. He had loaded up his plate with nearly half a pizza, fucking kids and their impossible metabolism. He wasn’t about to break a nearly-a-year vegan streak for some subpar pepperoni pizza, but that didn’t stop him from feeling a little jealous. 

“It’s barely August,” said Nico, hating how Lewis looked up at the mention of the Sugar Plum cavalier role. He probably thought the part was as good as his, secure in two years of being cast in the top role while Nico was passed back and forth between Snow King and the Nutcracker prince. The Nutcracker didn’t matter as much anymore, but Nico couldn’t afford to give anything less than his full effort, not when casting for the spring performance came out barely a week after the last Nutcracker show. “It’s too early to be worrying about that.”

“Auditions are in a month,” said Max. “I want to be prepared.”

“Playing guessing games isn’t going to make you more prepared,” said Nico.

Max shrugged. “Neither is being so uptight, but we of course all have our own strategies.” 

He stuck another piece of pizza in his mouth, and Nico fought the urge to get up and slap his paper plate across the room. He had to settle for glaring at the top of the kid’s shitty hair. Lewis went back to his phone and his vegan mushroom pizza which he wasn’t even pretending to enjoy, while Seb smiled that toothy smile that meant he could sense drama unfolding and Daniel laughed like Max had told the funniest joke he’d ever heard. Pathetic. 

“You know what we all used to call him?” said Seb, a truly mischievous smile spreading across his face. 

“Nico?” said Max. “No. What?”

Nico kicked Seb under the table, but it made no difference. “Britney. Because of his pretty blonde hair.”

Honestly, Nico could not imagine what would possess Seb to tell the awful child that. His eyes lit up as Daniel giggled and even Lewis looked up at the mention of Nico’s nickname. “Britney,” Max said, the name sounding already way too comfortable on his tongue. “Like Britney Spears? I can see it.”

“I’m not doing this,” announced Nico, picking up his plate and storming off to join a random gaggle of junior company dancers at the next table over. 

---

Nico was cast as the Sugar Plum Cavalier, but he still couldn’t really enjoy rehearsals, not when Lewis was getting just as much of the praise as the Nutcracker Prince. He especially couldn’t enjoy the full-company rehearsals where he had to watch him dance, graceful and majestic as he’d always been. 

“Why do Britney and Lewis hate each other?” stage-whispered Max from behind Nico. He was doing such a bad job at being quiet that Nico almost thought it was meant for him to hear. In any case, it was enough to distract him from watching Lewis rehearse the fight scene with Fernando. 

“There’s, like, history between them,” was Daniel’s just-as-loud whispered response. History was an incredible oversimplification. Lewis had been the first friend he ever made in ballet, the only other boy in his beginning dance class when he first started out who made him feel like he might actually belong there. They had been each others’ rock moving up through the dance school and then the company, the only constant in the chaos of that world. He had been Nico’s first crush, the first person to know he was gay, his first kiss, first everything. 

Not that any of that mattered now. 

“What kind of history?” whispered Max. “Were they, like..?”

Nico couldn’t see what kind of gesture Max did to finish that sentence, but he could guess what it was based on Daniel’s barely muffled laugh. “Uh, yeah,” said Daniel. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

“Oh,” said Max. “Well, that is very stupid, then. What, did they just break up and now they can’t talk to one another?”

Nico wanted to turn around and give the shit child a piece of his mind before he realized that the absolute last thing he wanted was for either of them to know he had been listening in. “I guess it was a little more complicated than that,” said Daniel, at least doing the bare minimum of coming to Nico’s defense. “But hey, I guess that’s what you get for dating a fellow dancer.”

Maybe he was right, Nico thought. Maybe it was a doomed idea from the start. Maybe that was something Nico should have realized when Lewis had reached for his hand that first time and Nico had taken it, that this would hurt them in the long run. It made something wrench in his chest to think that, something small and bruised and soft but still alive no matter how hard he tried to squash it, that cried out that what he and Lewis had had to have meant something. But it was hard to believe that now, when they could barely look at one another. 

“I think they might just be stupid,” whispered Max. “There’s nothing wrong with dating a fellow dancer if you’re not stupid.”

Incredible. Nico had to close his eyes and count to ten to keep himself from punting that blonde bastard straight across the studio. The Coffee Princes dance that Max and Daniel were both in could not come soon enough, he thought.

---

It was nice that the studio tended to hire the same handful of guest choreographers every year. The jockeying for their favor was always a little less pronounced when everyone knew who they would pick as their favorites. 

However, that meant that everyone--Nico included--was completely fucking blindsided when Horner picked Max out of all people to have a solo in his latest contemporary piece, passing over Nico and Lewis and his former favorite Seb to put the kid in the front and center. It was completely out of nowhere. Nico had been expecting to be competing with Lewis and Daniel for the top solo in a Christian Horner piece, but not once did he imagine being overlooked in favor of fucking Max. 

He didn’t even develop an ego over it, which was kind of the worst part. Dancers that got a taste of success and then walked around like they owned the place were sure to crash and burn at the slightest provocation, and Nico would have been happy to let the terrible child wear himself out and then fade back into oblivion. But Max acted like it was the most natural thing in the world, like he was used to getting all the best roles and therefore wasn’t especially affected by this one. And the worst part was that in Horner’s position, Nico might have done the same thing. Max continued to be unreasonably, unbearably good, in a way that sometimes made Nico want to pull a Tonya Harding on him, bash in his kneecaps after class (though he’d have to do it in the rare moment where Daniel wasn’t annoyingly attached to him). The only consolation he ever got was that Lewis looked just as happy to be there as Nico was, which was not much at all.

Though sometimes Nico thought that Max was more aware of his unique position than he let on. “I really don’t know why everyone always complains about the contemporary pieces,” he said one day while they were getting changed after rehearsal. “I think this is actually a lot of fun.”

“Yeah, I bet you would,” Nico muttered. He thought he might have heard Lewis snort under his breath at that from the other side of the dressing room, but he wasn’t sure. He would obviously never look up to check. 

“What was that?” asked Max. It was impossible to tell whether he was being genuine or not, which was even more aggravating. 

“Don’t mind Britney,” said Daniel, putting an arm around Max’s back that was maybe a little bit too friendly. “He’s just jealous of you.”

Nico was going to kill them all, including Seb for telling Max that fucking nickname. He threw his shorts into his bag with a little more force than necessary. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” he sneered, aiming it more at Daniel and reveling in the sudden look of confusion that came over him before storming out, slamming the dressing room door. 

---

The spring show was Don Quixote, and for some asinine, unbelievable reason, they had decided to double cast Lewis and Nico in the role of Don Quixote, so that they had to go to all the same rehearsals and switch off every other run. Maybe they thought it would be better for the two of them to be in equal standing, but all it meant was that every single rehearsal was like reliving their falling out from start to finish. It was made so much worse by the fact that Max was cast as Basilio -- way higher of a role than anyone should expect for their first spring show. 

“You need to move forward here,” Max told him after they finished a run but before Nico could swap back out with Lewis for the next one. “Always you are in my way, and if you don’t move I might crash into you next time.”

It was a little much to deal with while Nico was still catching his breath. He still couldn’t understand why Max was never so much as winded after this much dancing. “What?” he gasped, just to give himself a little more time to breathe.

Max huffed indignantly. “When you’re finished with your solo. You need to move out of the way faster, because I’m starting my next part right behind you.”

“He’s got a point,” said Lewis, staring directly at Nico. 

Nico sneered at him. “I only have three steps before the last couple of jumps to get across the stage. I am already traveling as much as I can.” He spared a look at Lewis, looking him up and down and pointedly lingering on his legs that were shorter than Nico’s just because he knew it would hurt, twisting that particular knife. “I doubt you’ll have an easier time getting there.”

He could see that he had struck the nerve he was aiming for, Lewis’s lip curling just the smallest amount. Part of him wished it hurt more to hurt Lewis, instead of the sickening satisfaction he was left with. But there was still ground to be gained--they hadn’t yet chosen which of them would get to dance 7 shows and who would only get 6--so Nico didn’t really have sympathy to spare. All he felt was bitterness, whether he did better than Lewis or worse. The fact that they were forced to be so close together made it harder for Nico to feel anything else, the love he had for dance that brought him here almost foreign to him now. Sometimes it felt like too much, like the horrible wanting he felt--wanting to be better than Lewis, wanting to hurt him, wanting him back, wanting to prove something, wanting things to go back to the way they were--was poisoning every moment he spent in the studio. 

“Well, you need to be farther forward somehow,” said Max, putting his hands on his hips. Nico could strangle him. “Otherwise I’m going to run into you one of these times.”

“Boys,” said Toto, looking back and forth at the three of them disapprovingly. Max backed down slightly at his voice, but not very much. One of the only things Nico had to look forward to was the day that kid finally mouthed off to Toto (or god forbid, Director Wolffe herself) and got absolutely eviscerated. Nico would laugh. Lewis might laugh with him. “We only have time for one more run tonight. Max, begin your solo farther upstage. Lewis, swap with Nico.”

Max rolled his eyes, but did as Toto said. Nico didn’t meet Lewis’s eyes as he stormed back to the corner of the studio to watch the two of them dance. 

---

It was all too much. Nico needed someone to vent to. 

It couldn’t be Lewis, for obvious fucking reasons. He found Seb in one of the smaller studios, but he was busy teaching the townspeople dance to some of the junior company dancers. “Sorry, I really have to finish this,” he said. “You can complain to me in half an hour, though. Or you can go talk to Kimi?”

“Kimi’s not going to let me complain,” said Nico.

Seb laughed, and some of the dancers around him laughed too. They followed him around the studio like ducklings, and sometimes Nico was jealous that Seb had been able to move so peacefully from the studio’s top dog into more of a mentor for the younger dancers. “I think Daniel’s done, though. I just saw him going into the dressing room on my way here.”

“Perfect. Thanks,” said Nico, shutting the door to the studio and stomping off towards the mens’ dressing room. He and Daniel were okay friends, and he had a reputation as the friendliest guy in the company for a reason. He might have to leave his gripes with Max out of his rant, but that was fine when his complaints were more to do with Lewis anyway. Maybe he could even get some gossip about the kid out of him if he played his cards right. 

The studio was loud with the sounds of concurrent rehearsals going on in studios all around them, so Nico didn’t have any warning about what he was walking into until he opened the door--which was a little stuck, but the old doorknobs always opened eventually if you jimmied them the right way--and stopped dead in his tracks. Seeing Daniel Ricciardo’s bare ass in the dressing room was not even slightly out of the ordinary, but what definitely was out of the ordinary was seeing him pinning someone to the wall, pale, muscled legs wrapped tight around his waist and hands buried in his curls as he thrust upwards, his shorts discarded on the floor next to a suspiciously familiar white T-shirt and pair of black leggings. The person he was fucking against the wall of the dressing room lifted their head from his shoulder, and Nico was shocked, dismayed, and horrified to be looking into the eyes of Max fucking Verstappen. 

Daniel, at the very least, had the common courtesy to look mortified when he turned his head and shoulders around to see who had walked in on them. Max very much did not, looking almost pleased with himself as Daniel scrambled to cover both of them with his body. “Shit--fuck, sorry Brit--Nico, sorry, I thought I locked the door.”

Nico slammed the door shut. After a bit of shuffling, he heard the old lock click shut and heard a metal chair screech against the floor until it was resting in front of the doorknob, and then the sounds--which he hadn’t been able to pick out of the rest of the noise of the studio before, but which he could definitely hear now--started up again. Nico fought the urge to scream. He didn’t even have a leg to stand on to yell at Daniel, not when he had been among the small group who walked in on him blowing Lewis in a dressing room at the theater back in junior company.

Fuck this, then, he thought. He stormed back the way he came, passing Seb as he walked out of the other studio. “Don’t go in the dressing room,” he growled, picking up his ballet bag and marching straight out to his car. 

None of it really mattered, in the end. He would perform Don Quixote and prove for once and for all to Toto and to Lewis and to whoever else that he was and always would be the best dancer at this fucking studio. Then he would attend every summer audition he could find, take the first offer he was given, and get the fuck away from this place and hopefully never see Max Verstappen’s fucking face again.

---

also on ao3 

[canmom]

altered states of mind explored so far

LSD ✔️- currently a favourite after two trips. highly sensitive to input, needs to be treated carefully with a degree of 'ritual'. benefits a lot from interesting company and artworks to look at.

mushrooms ✔️- only done once but great fun in company

other psychedelics - todo. wanna go to a rave at some point

weed ✔️- it's nice to vibe on with friends, not particularly inclined to go out of my way to get it otherwise

alcohol ✔️ - it's ok, but i really do not see what the fuss is about, except that i guess that it's the only popular drug that's legal for weird historical reasons.

adhd stimulants❔- not been allowed a high enough dose to be effective. hopefully will get a better try in glasgow

ssris ✔️- still on these fuckers, i go a bit mental whenever i forget to take them and not in a fun way sadly

'sub space' ✔️- recently found out how fun this is, need to explore this one a lot more :3

'top space'/'domme space' - todo, doesn't come naturally (you'd be shocked to hear) but want to explore when i have more exp

hypnosis - todo, learning about this one recently, seems very promising

roleplaying games ✔️- it's not usually thought of like this but i think getting really into character or really creatively vibing as a DM/MC is an example of an altered state of mind, and a really fun and often meaningful one. probably related to...

adhd hyperfocus/'creative flow' ✔️ - wrt computer games, programming, writing, playing music, doing maths etc. - absolutely great when you can figure out how to activate it. very unpredictable. does not always fixate on what 'you' (see: mild plurality question) would want it to, so it's not exactly a superpower. but tbh the things that activate this are what my life revolves around.

social connection ✔️ & loneliness ✔️ - the last few years prior to moving here I was very isolated, and my landing in Glasgow was kind of rocky. the contrast makes it really noticeable how much an evening with friends will change my mood and feelings about the world. not having enough irl social contact reliably leads to....

getting really neurotic about stuff/emotional flashbacks ✔️ - a frequently recurring state of mind, and sadly not a fun one. much more likely to end up here with ssri withdrawal. recognising it as a state of mind is helpful though because i can then think about what activates it/how to transition to another state

movement ✔️ - cycling, flying a glider (years ago now), going on one of those fairground rides that spin you around really fast, dancing, roller skating, tai chi - it feels really good to move, and be in control of that movement through space, to tie it to other stimuli such as music, etc etc. movement in a virtual space is pretty good if the interaction is sufficiently textured, but irl movement hits more of your senses including your physical sense of acceleration/proprioception, and is thus more powerful.

encountering art ✔️- this covers so much. but think of 'getting lost in' a book or 'getting really absorbed in' a film. for a time you are caught up in a flow of emotions and connections driven by the provocative thing you are encountering. this is a big reason why we do it, after all.

intense fever ✔️- illness can be a pretty intense drug (c.f. 18ft leash - scouts honour)! it's funny to talk about 'being high on covid' but the analogy is there, thanks @cean-untitled for pointing out the analogy. since you don't get to choose when you go on it or prepare in the same sort of ritualistic way and your body is usually in a bad way at the time, the results are often less fun, but can still be pretty dramatic and powerful.

sleep ✔️ fatigue ✔️- as xkcd put it, to 'go comatose for a few hours and hallucinate vividly'; fatigue is also a common and very abruptly arriving state of mind these days.

lucid dreaming - todo

i'm sure i could think of more, or divide these up more granularly, but i think this serves to illustrate the unifying frame here.

[tyrantisterror]

Wife Goals: Hexadecimal

Hey fuckers. It's February, my Seasonal Affective Disorder is at its peak, and romance is on my mind whether I like it or not. So I'm going to ramble/gush about some of my favorite female characters in fiction, in a painfully honest and deeply cringe way, because fuck you that's why. We live in a post-Muncher society, you can't fucking stop me.

We're beginning with Hexadecimal from the 90's early CGI cartoon Reboot. I feel like most of tumblr's userbase was too young to watch that show. A lot of you were probably born after it aired. God I'm old. I'm so old and alone. Fuck.

Anyway, the premise of Reboot was that there was an entire world within your computer, with every program and file being people who lived inside the big city that makes up the computer itself. The city everything takes place in is called Mainframe, the main character was a security program, most of the citizens were shaped like 1's and 0's (binary code, get it?), everyone talked about things taking nanoseconds because one of the other conceits is that the people inside the computer experience time differently than humans, etc.

The villains of Reboot, at least initially, were computer viruses. One, the primary antagonist, was Megabyte, an evil overlord who wanted to take control of Mainframe by force - sort of the picture of a Lawful Evil villain, in D&D terms. The other, his sister, was Hexadecimal, the self-professed Queen of Chaos, who is more of a wicked witch (get it? Hex-adecimal!) that existed to cause mischief and mayhem for the sake of it. The Chaotic Evil to Megabyte's Lawful Evil, if you will - though as the series went on, calling Hex "evil" became more and more inaccurate.

Reboot was one of the first fully CGI cartoons, and it used the limitations of that early technology as a jumping off point to get creative with its setting and character concepts. Hexadecimal is very much a case in point for that - rigging face animations, especially on a humanoid face, is complicated and time-consuming, which is why there were very few humanoid characters in the first season of Reboot (and hence most of the case being made of 1's and 0's). For Hex, they decided to get around this by giving her a gimmick: Hexadecimal doesn't have a true face of her own, but rather dozens upon dozens of masks that she switches between with a wave of her hand. The result is that 1. the animators didn't need to work on in-between frames for her change in facial expression, saving a good bit of time and money and 2. Hexadecimal's mood changes are really, REALLY weird and unsettling to witness, selling her as some sort of supernatural monstrosity. She is magical in a dark, spooky way, even when just expressing feelings, and the result is a visual that really sticks with you - one that never would have been done if not for the limitations of that early CGI.

Of course, one of the other reasons Hexadecimal might have stuck out is that she was, uh... well, sexualized qutie a bit. Look, I'm not going to mince terms, there were some horny bastards working at Mainframe Entertainment (the company that made Reboot). These are the same animators who reportedly based Blackarachnia's design in Beast Wars after a stripper they saw while going out after work one night. In the first season of this show Hexadecimal full-figured and prone to walking in a very sultry way. When the show got dropped by ABC and picked up by another network, they put her in a full-on dominatrix outfit. Hex was always intended to be sexy.

And, like, ten-year old me didn't fully understand that when watching this show. But I do think that it was at least part of why my pre-adolescent brain because very obsessed with Hexadecimal, moreso than any of the other Reboot characters. She was interesting, for a lot of reasons, some of which I understood (funny scary monster villain lady) and some that I didn't understand but, like, vibed with intensely in ways that were formative and probably life-ruining.

Thankfully Hexadecimal was also just a very well-written character, perhaps the best in all of Reboot. Her first episode establishes the base components of her characterization that the rest of the show would build upon. Hex unleashes a computer bug using code from a paint program, which turns everyone who encounters it to stone. She specifically unleashes it by hiding it in a package and pretending to guard it, which makes her brother/rival villain, Megabyte, think it's some important mcguffin that he should steal. He does, and ends up the first victim of the medusa bug, which then spreads through all his minions, and then through all the different ways he has to sneak into the heart of Mainframe city, eventually infecting almost every citizen.

Already we establish several things about Hex: first, her schemes aren't about conquering people, but causing mayhem and havoc for the sake of it. Second, despite her chaotic nature, she's smart enough to make proper evil schemes. Third, she's a good judge of character in her way, as she figured the easiest way to get Megabyte to take the bait was to pretend she had something valuable for him to steal. Fourth, despite also being "evil," she's not on good terms with her brother/rival villain, and in fact wants to take him out first before anyone else. Fifth, holy shit she is SO much more powerful than the main bad guy, it's her first episode and she already almost won!

Almost. Of course, Bob, our hero security program, goes to Hexadecimal to try and stop her, at which point we find out Hex has something of a manic crush on Bob (as she articulates later in the series, "Oh Bob, I don't know whether to kiss you OR KILL YOU!"), and is actually willing to hear him out when he comes in doing his hero routine. Luckily, Bob is clever too, and decides to beat Hex the same way she beat Megabyte - he tells her that she should be proud of how orderly she made Mainframe. After all, with everyone turned to stone, nothing will change - it'll all be the same forever, quiet, calm, peaceful, and boring. Hexadecimal, the self-professed Queen of Chaos, immediately realizes she's made a nightmare for herself, and undoes her evil scheme with a wave of her hand before letting Bob go out of gratitude for keeping her from making a horrible mistake.

Which is the most important thing we've learned about Hexadecimal in her debut: she values freedom. Oh, she calls it chaos, yes, but Hexadecimal's biggest belief is that people should have the freedom to make their own choices, no matter how violent and destructive they may be. She's an anarchist first and foremost, and she values freedom so much that she'd gladly admit she was wrong and undo a successful scheme if someone correctly points out that said scheme goes against her ideals.

Especially if that someone is the guy she likes.

Hexadecimal is a supremely powerful villain who can't really be overpowered, but can be reached and defeated emotionally. As the show goes on, dealing with Hex increasingly becomes focused on building a relationship with her, and for most of the runtime Bob is the only person who is both brave and compassionate enough to try and give it a shot. While he doesn't share Hexadecimal's romantic feelings, he nonetheless feels there is something good buried deep beneath her mania, and that she is worth reaching out to.

And we in turn see that is is 100% correct. For all her supervillain antics, her ranting and raving, her violent outbursts and maniacal schemes, Hexadecimal is at her core an intensely lonely person, someone who craves affection but drives off almost everyone who gets close because of her psychological instability. She deeply wants people to love - she dotes on her little cat-like follower, Scuzzy, and she's also kind to nulls, creatures made from broken programs in the computer world that most people regard as vermin. And there are so many times when Hexadecimal's latest scheme is something Bob just... talks her out of.

Given the nature of serialized storytelling, Hexadecimal's vast strength did not stay insurmountable, and there were several times where she was humbled to show how great the new threat in the story was. Perhaps the most important was when Megabyte finally managed to get one over on her, literally shackling her with a control collar like she was a rabid dog and forcing her to be a living power source for his weaponry. Eventually Hex broke free (as she says, "Chaos will always triumph over order! It is the way of things!"), but at the cost of breaking herself further, which is visually represented by a crack forming on her mask. Bob, who'd been away for some time at this point (watch the show to know why), finds her and helps her fix her map - and this act of kindness, of care, of healing allows Hex to express emotions without swapping her mask for the first time, and, in the process, express herself with more self control. The children's cartoon show equivalent of finally getting this poor woman the meds she needs.

Unfortunately, most of the other characters weren't willing to forgive Hex for her past actions, and she spent the final season regarded with suspicion and coldness by all the other people of Mainframe even as she tried to turn over a new leaf. And while Bob cared about her, he didn't love her, a fact she had trouble accepting. The tragedy of this came to a head when the main threat of the fourth season, a new virus named Daemon whose plot was even more apocalyptic than anything Hex came up with in her villainous prime, unleashed a doomsday infection that could only be stopped by another virus - and even then, that virus would be sacrificing their life to pull it off. Hexadecimal willingly chooses to do it, happily even, with a smile on her face - because while she was going to die, the people she cared about would live, and perhaps think a little better of viruses like her as a result.

I think that is what made Hexadecimal stick with me more than anything - more than the cool mask, the awesome villain antics, or the 90's cartoon age-inappropriate sexy character design. Hexadecimal, more than anything else, is defined by her love for others and her desire for them to be free to live their lives as they choose. That means they can choose not to love her, not to forgive her, not to include her. They're free, that's their choice, just as it's her choice whether or not to love them in spite of it, and her choice to die for their freedom and happiness. She loved so, so deeply, and the thing that sticks with me, the thing that broke my heart as a kid and breaks it now, is that no one ever loved her back.

Yeah, she was creepy and maniacal and almost killed a bunch of people a lot of times, but she was also so full of love, and all she really needed was for it to be reciprocated! She needed people who were willing to care for her, even just a little bit - and she deserved people who cared a lot more than that, because if she was willing to do so much good for so little, imagine what good she could have done if someone loved her as much as she loved them.

Anyway, while I had many precocious crushes before Hexadecimal, I'm pretty sure she's the reason why my "type" seems to be "women who are made entirely out of Red Flags." And maybe that's ok.

...

no it's not ok why am I like this

[gvshing]

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─PRETTY GIRL DEALING─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

(warning for weed usage and dealing!!) pt 1.

⊹₊⋆CHAPTER TWO⊹₊⋆

Ellie knocks on your dorm door, as softly as you had earlier that day. You open it and usher her inside. Ellie nervously stands off to the side while you lock your door back and you turn around to look at her. Ellie stutters out a “You… uh… you look nice.” when she sees you in the simple loose pajama shorts and blue tee a size too big for you. You giggle at her stutters. “Thanks Ellie. And thanks for coming over! I figured I had to thank you somehow, so why not smoke together the weed you sold me at the cheapest price ever?” you say, trying to sound chill about it. She nods, though if you weren’t looking at her so intensely, you might not have noticed. You motion towards the bed before flopping on it aggressively. “So…” She says, anxiety slowly bubbling inside her higher and higher now that she’s actually here in front of you once more. She sits next to you as casually as she can muster, trying not to look too stiff or awkward. “So…” you mimic her tone and smile at her. “You know, I’ve been friends with Dina for a semester and like a half now. Isn’t it weird we’ve never met?” You say realizing Dina had been keeping her a secret from you this whole time. “Oh yeah.. That’s kinda weird. I don’t really go anywhere but classes though to be fair. I’m not a party person. Too anxious. And I really only sell out of my dorm, it’s rare that I go somewhere else to deal. All my clients are here on campus. Dina was saying she was wanting us to be friends, but she had never mentioned you before today. No offense I’m sure, she just doesn’t talk a lot about other friends… Which now that I’m thinking about it is weird. She talks about everything.. Hm.. ” Ellie rants on accident. Maybe this was a bad idea, there’s no way she’s going to be able to hold it together for this entire interaction. She’s certainly going to make a fool of herself in some way. That seems to be what she’s good at. And it seems that was already happening. “No! Me neither to be honest! The only parties I’ve gone to were because my dealer was there or I went with a friend and then was promptly ditched by said friend.” You say trying to make her feel less like an introvert, even though she was in good company if that’s what she was worried about. “And yeah.. Dina doesn’t talk much about her other friends I’m noticing as well. She kept you a secret from me for so long. That’s messed up Dina.” you joke. Ellie laughs along with you. Eventually she starts feeling less anxious the longer you two sit and talk.

You and Ellie fell into a natural rhythm after a while. Before you knew it, it was almost two in the morning. “Oh, shit. It’s late. I’m sorry. I totally lost track of time.” You blurt out when you see the time flash across your phone screen. “I have a morning class, and you probably do as well. God, I knew it was late and I just couldn’t wait to hang out, and now you’re going to be dead tired in the morning and it’s going to be my fault.” talking so fast, Ellie stares at your freaking form. ‘How are they both way less anxious than me and also way more anxious than me?’ flashes through Ellie’s head before she laughs and puts a hand on your leg to get you to calm down a bit. “It’s okay! I do have a class but, I’m always surviving off like 5 hours of sleep a night so it’s chill. I promise. I’ll head out though, so you can get some sleep. Thanks for having me over, this was fun.” Ellie stands up and heads towards the door, gathering her random belongings she had placed on the floor next to the door. “Ugh, I wish we could hang out longer. Text me when you get back so I know you got back safe, Okay?” You tell her and wrap her in the second hug of the night from you. “Of course. I’ll see you.” Ellie pulls back and gives you a smile, this time placing a kiss on your cheek. You break out in a blush and watch as she walks out of your room. You lock the door behind her and promptly run to your bed and pounce on it. You squeal into your pillow and flip around to be on your back so you can stare at the ceiling. You take deep breaths and calm your fast beating heart. She might kill you via heart attack if you’re not careful. It’s nice to find someone attractive again. To have a crush on someone, it’s almost a foreign feeling. The feeling of butterflies and clammy hands that don’t stem from anxiety that’s eating away at you. You wait patiently for the buzz of your phone signalling that she had texted you that she was safe and sound. You send your quick reply and flip around to try to drift into sleep. It took you a bit longer than usual to fall asleep, you felt like a child on christmas eve. That happy anxiety keeps you from falling faster into that safe void of dreamland you had always found refuge in. It’s good though, you have to remind yourself. You’ll have to thank Dina later for bringing you this new adventure and placing it so softly into your hands. And also punch her in the arm for keeping it from you for as long as she had.

Ellie reaches her dorm door and instantly sends you her text of reassuring that she’s safe. She walks in, kicks her shoes off, and lays on her bed. Instantly falling deep in thought. She needs to be careful. Yes, you guys get along. Yes, you’re cute. Yes, you’re nice. And you don’t seem like the type to take advantage, but she can’t be too careful. She’s been fucked over before. She’s a drug dealer. She can’t forget that. She can’t get too close, too fast. Otherwise there’s a chance of heartbreak there. A chance of Joel telling her once again that she needs to think things through better. She should call Joel. She’s been putting it off, sending him the occasional ‘I love you’ and ‘Yes i'm okay and no i haven't been kidnapped’ texts. She’ll do that soon. She drifts into an anxious sleep, thinking about all the what if’s in her head.

The next morning you get ready with a slight pep in your step. Ellie gets ready with her usual groggy and foot dragging pace. When the hours of lectures are over, you both find yourselves in your respective dorms. You start the schoolwork you’ve been putting off and quickly kill 3 hours. Ellie, on the other hand, waits for Dina to arrive for their hang out session. She distracts herself by pulling up minecraft on her laptop. She mindlessly destroys blocks and places them down for about 45 minutes. Looking at the clock every 10 minutes, she feels her anxiety getting worse the closer to the time of Dina’s arrival. She shouldn’t be nervous to hang out with her friend whom she’s known for years. But, she is. Ellie’s jumpscared when she looks over from her minecraft to see Dina standing directly next to her desk. “Shit! Dina, you scared me, what the fuck? What happened to the knocking?” Ellie has her chest in her hands, grasping at her heart. Dina laughs at Ellie and falls back on Ellie’s bed. “You’re fine! It’s just me. You knew what time I was coming!  Your door was unlocked and it’s not like you were doing anything scandalous, anyway.” Dina retorts. Ellie rolls her eyes at Dina and moves her chair to sit next to the bed. “Yeah, but I could’ve been! You don’t know what I do when you’re not around!” Dina copies Ellie’s eye roll and sits up on her elbows. “Ellie. Be for real. You don’t have any bitches and I know you just watch people play games on youtube, play the game yourself, play guitar, deal weed and SOMETIMES you’ll watch some weird 80’s sci fi movie that makes me gag from how bad it is. I know what you’re about, I’m your best friend.” Dina smiles wide at her, baring all her teeth. Ellie scoffs and kicks her feet up to rest on the bed. “Okay, fine, you’ve got me there. But, I’m starting to think I’m not your best friend… Keeping your friends away from me.. God woe is me, Dina.” Dina laughs and throws a pillow at Ellie that she catches in her hands and tosses aside.

“You’re dramatic, Els. I just never think of it. Besides, you know Jesse and that’s enough isn’t it?” “No! He doesn’t count! You guys are a package deal! You know what I’m talking about, Dina.” Ellie raises her eyebrows dramatically at Dina. “God, Ellie. Look, I didn’t think that you guys wouldn’t like each other. I just figured that neither of you would care that bad, you’re both introverts. My bad for not setting you up.” Dina, now sitting up, crosses her arms in defense. Ellie sighs. “Y/N is nice, that’s all. I’m just fucking with you, Dina. I promise.” Dina uncrosses her arms and grins at Ellie. “Alright, if you say so. I should’ve told you I was sending them your way before you were even texted. That’s my bad. But, yeah, they’re nice. I’m glad you think so.” Ellie moves to sit on the bed across from Dina. “Yeah.. I feel that you guys would click nicely. Both anxious as hell. You both smoke. You both are obnoxious about your gaming youtubers.” Ellie shoves Dina. “Shut up! I am not obnoxious about them! I watch them often, that's it! You’re the dramatic one, Dina.” “Whatever! You two are like, perfect for eachother.” Ellies sighs for the thousandth time, “Dina, I appreciate you playing matchmaker, I do. But, I’m not looking for a relationship. I’ve gotten fucked over because of my title as a dealer. I’m not trying to have that happen again. That shit sucked.” Dina rolls her eyes and puts her hand out for Ellie to hold. Ellie grabs it hesitantly and tilts her head to the side, anxious to hear what Dina had to say. “Ellie, I get it. I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to. Especially at the expense of Y/N. They’re nice. And I don’t want them getting fucked over just as much as I don’t want you getting fucked over. I trust them. Trust me by trusting them. Take it slow. I see the giddiness inside you, Ellie!” Dina exclaims on the brink of annoyance at Ellie’s distrust. Ellie smiles and looks at her lap, shaking her head. “Okay, Dina. I’ll trust you by trusting her. But, I’m not going to throw myself into it.” Dina nods in acceptance. “That’s all I ask! Fuck that other bitch who fucked you over! You’re a bad bitch and you deserve equally as bad as a bitch!” Ellie and Dina laugh together and spend the rest of the night in lighthearted conversation.

You on the other hand spent your night cuddled in bed after you finished all your schoolwork, minus a few odds and ends you need to finish for random projects or essays. You had texted Ellie asking how her day had gone but hadn’t quite gotten a text back. The anxiety rested in your chest from not getting a reply but you kept reminding yourself you just met the day before. You guys didn’t even really know each other that well. Deciding it shouldn’t be this big of a deal to you is how you find yourself in your current position. Youtube blaring on the T.V. in front of you. When you do finally receive a text back from Ellie, it’s just a simple ‘Hey sorry I’m just now seeing this! I was hanging out with Dina! My day was good! How was yours?’ By this time it was about 11 pm and you were feeling way too tired to hold a conversation from your previous night of little sleep. You end up just sending back ‘No worries! I hope hanging out with Dina was good! I miss her lol. Feel like I haven’t seen her in weeks even though it was like 3 days ago. My day was good! I hope you have a good sleep!’ You stand up and start to get ready for bed. You wash your face, fill your bedside cup with water and turn off your lights besides the set of fairy lights you have strung around your bed. You opt to not check your phone before plugging it in. If you see a text back from Ellie you’ll feel the need to reply, and you need to sleep. If there's not a text back from her, you’ll feel the sadness in your chest you’ve been trying to avoid. Nestling into bed, you drift off to sleep faster than the night before. Thoughts of school and Ellie in your mind. Hoping you’re not coming off too strong. Hoping you can be normal. Hoping, hoping, hoping.

Laying in bed, Ellie rehashes her day. She trusts Dina’s word about you. But, she just can’t seem to trust herself. Ellie feels that familiar feeling of unease pass over her and she turns over on her side a bit viciously, closing her eyes she refuses to think about it any longer. She’ll deal with it in the morning. She falls asleep, glow in the dark stars plastered over her head, and she dreams of nothing.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ── ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ── ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

Tumblr makes it so hard to post on here sometimes. throwing up pissing and shitting currently. anywayyyy

[messyloverr]

"Underneath the Scowl"

Katsuki Bakugou x GN!Reader

Summary: You're an exchange student striving to become one of the best hero's in the world. As you're there you meet Katsuki Bakugou, and make it one of your goals to prove yourself to him despite his harsh attitude. Through intense training and perseverance, Bakugou begins to respect you, and what seemed like an unlikely friendship eventually blossoms into love.

Author's note: This is probably gonna turn into a series if anybody acc likes it. Also I haven't written a story in forever so im sorry to whoevers reading if this is shitty ! i wrote this for myself but decided to publish incase somebody else likes this super simple idea ;p

Katsuki Bakugou was a man of certainty—he almost never had any doubts about anything in his life. That was, of course, until you came along. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he knew you'd be trouble.

You arrived as an exchange student alongside Pony Tsunotori, a good friend of yours. She was placed in class 1-B, which meant you'd be transferred into class 1-A. You weren't thrilled about being split up, but you knew that this way, you'd have a better shot at becoming a pro-hero.

The first day was rough—well, mostly for you. The rest of the students were welcoming, greeting you with smiles, showing you around, and offering you a seat next to them during class and lunch. But one person stood out: a blonde, crimson-eyed man who caught your attention.

You tried approaching him, noticing a small group of students surrounding him, which made you think he was just shy—much like Kyoka Jirou or Koji Koda, who had only introduced themselves after the pressure of their peers.

To your surprise, he made it clear that he had no interest in being friendly. So, you turned to Kirishima, who you'd spoken to briefly before.

"Hey, Kirishima!" you smiled as you walked up to him. "I hope it's not a problem, but do you think you could help introduce me to the others? I'm not sure if I've met everyone yet." You whispered the last part subtly, making sure it was clear you were talking about the spiky-haired man a few inches away.

Kirishima glanced between you and the man standing just inches away. He made an attempt to introduce you, but Bakugo quickly dismissed the gesture by ignoring the both of you entirely. "Don't mind him, Y/N," Kirishima said with a nervous chuckle. "Bakugou's just...well, bakugou." He offered a warm smile, hoping to ease the awkward tension. "He'll come around. You're brave for trying to talk to him, though. I mean, people usually avoid him at first..." He rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a light laugh.

"He can be a little intimidating at first, but once you get to know him, he's actually a great guy!" Kirishima continued, his voice carrying a sense of optimism.

You paused for a moment, wondering if it was worth the effort to keep trying. You quickly snapped out of it, reminding yourself of your purpose here: to become a hero. The first step? Bakugou. You had seen him in action during the sports festival and were eager on seeing him and his quirk up close.

The following days were the hardest . You tried your best to fit in with your classmates, but you couldn't shake off the feeling that Bakugou's fiery glares and constant scowls were tracking your every move. Everyone else seemed fine with your presence, he was the only person who didn't. He remained an impenetrable wall of hostility, and the more he avoided you, the stronger your curiosity grew.

He certainly didn't make it easy. Every time you tried to strike a conversation, he simply shut you down cold.

"Tch, I'm not here for this." or, "Why don't you go and bother someone else?"

Despite his words, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than his tough exterior led to believe. Beneath his aggressive attitude, you'd sensed a burning determination—the relentless drive to become a true hero, no matter who or what stood in his way,

One afternoon, after class, you found yourself sitting on the steps of the U.A. dorms. You needed a moment to let the weight of everything settle and to clear your head. As you gazed up at the sky, an uneasiness tugged at your chest, as though you didn't truly belong here.

Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice.

"Tch, you really gonna sit out here like some lost puppy?"

You turned in surprise, finding Bakugou standing with his arms crossed, gazing at you like usual, but with an odd softness in his eyes.

You let out a light chuckle, trying to keep things light-hearted. "I'm not some lost puppy, just thinking... It's been a lot, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it" He muttered, his tone softer than you'd ever heard it. "Things here are tough. But don't act like you're all alone."

For a moment, you stared at him in disbelief. You never expected him to be the one to offer comfort. Much less stand there talking to you. And for a second, you swore you saw a flicker in his eyes, of something beneath his fiery exterior. His true self? Maybe.

Before you could respond, he turned away, his usual edge creeping back into his voice. "Don't get any ideas, you just pissed me off less than usual today. I've got one goal: becoming the number one hero. And I'm not gonna let some extra get in my way." He muttered.

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as he walked away. Despite his harsh words, you counted this as a small victory. You had shared a real conversation, and that alone felt like progress.

As the days passed, you noticed something had shifted. Bakugou's gaze was different—It wasn't his usual cold, hostile glare you'd grown used to. This time, there was something subtle about it, something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

Sometimes, his eyes occasionally lingered on you, and he wouldn't look away. It was as if he didn't like the connection but couldn't help himself. In fact, his whole demeanor had changed subtly. Surprisingly, when no one was looking, he would give you the briefest nod of acknowledgement as you passed by in the halls. It wasn't much, but it was a small sign that something had changed.

The real turning point came during a training exercise. Your class was split into teams for a mock battle, the goal being to teach everyone how to cooperate with other unexpected hero's in high-pressure circumstances . The moment you saw your teammate, your heart sank—Bakugou.

[katyawriteswhump]

love and other catastrophes at the omega cafe (2/8)

I’ve was totally overwhelmed (in the best possible way) by the reaction to chapter 1 of this fic—billions thank yous 💚I will admit I got a bit nervous about this chapter and not letting everyone down, but it’s a long one, and I really, really hope you enjoy! I will probably be updating every weekend, more regularly if I can 💚 

Summary: Steve is a runaway Omega who gets a job at an Omega café, where he’s basically paid to curl up and purr in Alphas’ laps. It’s legal, and he earns a living, rents his own place. He’s getting along fine for a packless Omega. Then Alpha rockstar Eddie Munson turns up for an hour of ‘kitty’ petting, and shatters Steve’s fragile little world…

Rating: M (will be E); Chapter length: 4000 words, No major warnings; Tags: omega steve, alpha eddie, a/b/o dynamics, rockstar eddie, fluff and angst; (It won't get tooooo angsty, I promise)💚Chapter 1 on tumblr On Ao3

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

Chapter 2

After waking up in Eddie's lap, Steve dabbed his lips again. He dared peep upward. His burning cheek was pressed to Eddie’s solid Alpha chest, his hand creeping helplessly up the faintly soggy black t-shirt.

Eddie was beaming, for sure. He was also wearing a pair of ray-bans and a baseball cap with ‘Bite me, Baby,’ emblazoned on it. He’d gotten the collar of his jean-jacket turned up. After a further moment of confusion, this time at Eddie’s transformation, Steve gasped in a lungful of Eddie’s smoky-plummy scent.

Eddie was a rockstar. Who doubtless wished to remain incognito. Somewhat like Steve did, although Steve was a very long way from home, and… Nope, he wouldn’t think about that. No way could Eddie have wanted to stay so long, while the café filled up with customers.

On the other hand, Eddie could have woken Steve anytime.

He hadn’t.

“Good snooze, Steve?” Eddie’s vibes remained totally chill.

“Yeah. Um…thanks?”  Steve wriggled slightly, sitting up straighter on Eddie’s lap. “I’m not supposed… Why didn’t you wake me?”

“And interrupt that blissful purring? Sweetness, you delivered exactly what I paid for, and I didn’t even get a cramp—insane!”

Eddie’s arms tightened into a full-on hug, keeping him in place. The fleece blanket had slipped off them, and the intense heat rolling from Eddie’s body teetered on the right side of scorching. It was unsettling not being able to read Eddie’s eyes. But if Eddie still didn’t want him to shift, no part of Steve was gonna argue.

Then Steve felt it.

That slab of Alpha cock gouging somewhere north of his knees. He felt slick trickle lightly, heat flushing down his face and neck, and then…

Carol hollered, “Chrissy, the pancakes were for table three, you ditzy O-head!”

“Yeah?” Chrissy replied, quieter but no less shrill: “You try reading your chicken scratch handwriting!”

That ripped Steve from whatever dreamland he’d been sucked back into. It seemed to shatter the moment for Eddie too: “Weeeell, it’s been fun, Kitty-cat. ’Fraid I gotta love ya and leave ya. I’m gonna get my ass busted for being late at the studio.”

He released Steve, who slid off his lap backwards and clumsily. Steve’s elbows and butt landed on the sofa with a thud, his feet taking their place on Eddie’s thighs. The loss of full-body contact sent a wretched shiver through him. Before he could gather himself, Eddie had gathered up his goddamn feet in his large, rough-feeling hands:

“Steve, are these feet or ice chips?”

Oh God, oh God, oh God!

Eddie launched into the most delicious foot massage, thumbs gently kneading into his arches, then leaning forward to lavish his feet with warm gusts of breath:

“You have the cutest toesies, Honey, you know that?”

Steve’s terror ratcheted up a whole new notch. He sure as heck didn’t have a foot kink, but Eddie’s relentless touch unhinged him. In all his time working at ‘Kitties,’ he’d never felt so close to losing control, to melting into a puddle of need. Weren’t the blockers supposed to curb such extreme reactions to even the most sizzling Alphas?

And Jesus Christ, Eddie’s lush mouth was so close to Steve’s feet now. Too close—was he gonna kiss them?

Steve spotted Carol back at the cash register, casually glancing their way. With an effort, he swung his legs off Eddie’s lap.

“Aw, is petting feet against the rules?” There was an air of kicked puppy about the Alpha that Steve struggled not to fawn over. And which segued quickly into a devastating earnestness. “Look, seriously, this isn’t a kink of mine.” That made two of them. “I can’t leave you shivering, not any part of you. I’ll pay extra?”

“I… I…” To be fair, there was nothing in the rules against petting feet. Right now, Steve simply couldn’t deal: “I thought you were gonna k-kiss them. Sorry, I…um…”

Eddie raised his palms. “No, I’m sorry, Steve. Truly. Self-control has never been my forte.”

“Please don’t apologise. It’s all good, and my feet are always cold. I dunno if it’s an Omega thing, or just me, or…” Stop prattling, Harrington.

Eddie smiled tightly, then rose and strode off to settle his final check with Carol.  Steve sat on the couch, arms wrapped tight around himself. He wiggled his toes, which seemed to tingle with the memory of Eddie’s breath. Then Eddie wandered back over. He blocked Steve from Carol’s view and pressed a hundred-dollar bill into his hand.

“Wow! I can’t accept—”

“Take it, Omega,” rumbled Eddie, in a deep gravelly tone that no part of Steve could argue with. As Eddie retreated, Steve found himself ogling how those sweatpants clung to the flat muscular planes of Eddie’s Alpha butt. At the door, Eddie glanced back, lifted his shades, and winked.

“See you soon, Stevie.”

Stevie!?!

Carol heard, and the instant Eddie had gone, she bounced over and hugged Steve. He’d never seen her so non-bitchy and jubilant. Then again, she was hardly gonna complain to Tommy that Steve had slept on the job when Eddie had spent well over two hundred dollars. He’d tipped her well, too. She made Steve a grilled cheese sandwich—actually one for Steve, rather than one she’d made for a customer and accidentally burned. Then she allowed him an extra-long break, to sort his hair and loosen his collar, before he had to clamber into the next lap.

It took all Steve’s concentration not to squirm and fidget and generally give a shitty kitty experience to the seemingly never-ending line of Alphas. He couldn’t help wondering if it wouldn’t have been easier to endure without Eddie’s throwaway, “See you soon, Stevie.”

Yeah, Steve would’ve felt flat, but he had ways of pepping himself. Even being petted by these randos might’ve helped return him to his usual fake-purring levels of okay.

Knowing Eddie might be coming back?

Each second with another Alpha was excruciating.

When he clocked off at five, everything changed. He literally bounced on his toes to the bus-stop. Thinking about Eddie made his insides feel fizzy and light, every part of him happily trembly—lightyears away from the morning’s exhaustion and fading heat cramps.

It wasn’t exactly convenient, tho’. When he reached his condo, it took him three attempts to fumble his key into the lock. One of his neighbours sensed his fluster through the thin walls.

She poked her head into the corridor. “Hi, Steve—are you all right?”

“Hey, Joyce. Yeah, I’m fine. Been a long day, and I’m beat.” He finally managed to turn the key. “Thanks for asking.”

“Okay, dear. If you feel up to joining us for quilting club tonight, we’d love to see you. I’ve baked cookies.”

“Maybe.” Steve quirked a smile, before darting in quickly and closing the door.

Leaning back against it, he let out a long, shuddering sigh. Joyce was kind, and Steve liked chatting to her. However, she knew as well as Steve that he wouldn’t be joining any of the local Omega-Omega support groups. Even when the heating was broken, and some of the other Omegas formed ‘snuggle’ nests together, he preferred to shiver alone.

He was fine with bodily contact these days, obviously, much as he enjoyed being called ‘cute’ and generally being admired. But he was used to having his own space. Which was why he loved his little home, really he did—despite its loud clunky plumbing and the damp patches on the walls. It was the only real nest he’d ever had. He’d stitched most of his throw cushions and drapes himself, apart from a couple that had been swapsies with Chrissy. Robin had gifted him a duck-down duvet and a thick wool blanket. She was the closest thing he had to a pack, and he enjoyed snuggling beneath her offerings through the long winter nights.

Now, after a few hours sleeping in the arms of an Alpha he might never see again, his little slice of paradise… felt horribly drab.

Still leaning on the door, he pulled the hundred-dollar bill out of his coat pocket and pressed it to his cheek. Which was gross given that it’d been passed between literally thousands of germy hands.

It still, very faintly, whiffed of Eddie.

He breathed deep of it as he dared and then: “This is dumb! This is so dumb!”

It wasn’t like he could keep it. A hundred dollars would settle his rent arrears this week. He dumped it on the counter and wandered toward his bathroom pod.

When he peeled down his underwear, he winced. He’d changed twice today, once after Eddie left, then again at a later break. Both times, his panties were damp with slick. Now, after travelling home dreaming about Eddie, another pair was soddened, and his peachy-chamomile scent was stronger than since he’d started blockers. He stripped, shivered and turned on the shower, holding his hand under the icy flow.

It started to get slightly warmer. Not exactly toasty, and he shuddered as he stepped in. He knew that he, like that bill, retained a slight tang of Eddie. Especially in his hair, which he was particularly reluctant to wash.

He went through the motions, the glide of his own fingers setting him sighing then sniffling stupidly at the memory of Eddie’s gorgeous touch. When the shower temperature switched suddenly thermo-nuclear hot, he leaped out with a yelp. After sticking his hair under the kitchenette faucet to finish rinsing, he blow-dried. Then he tidied away the yucky tissues, painkillers and hot water bottles he’d left scattered at the end of his heat. Finally, he cuddled up in his nest with another of Robin’s gifts—his third-hand refurbished iPhone.

The Wifi was working again, and he was tempted to google Eddie, find out every last thing about him, although… What if Eddie was mated or married or lived on the other side of the country? That said, he’d mentioned going to a studio, so he had to be staying locally, or…

Steve resisted searching. He wanted to enjoy his silly crush without knowing crap that would spoil it.

He avoided the internet for the most part, anyway. He’d been raised without it and was terrified to get a login for anything, even under a fake name. This was chiefly paranoia, probably. It was also sometimes annoying. All the social media sites where Chrissy showed him pics of ‘Hot Alphas’ tended to chuck him out before he’d properly feasted his eyes.

Nevertheless, he managed to find the ‘Knot me now, Alpha,’ thirst thread that he’d gotten a faint idea Eddie was familiar from. He was right. He admired Eddie’s pic there for a long while—a shirtless, sweaty mass of raw Alpha sex-appeal and bulging-at-the-crotch leather, nailing some finger-work on his electric guitar.

Then Robin texted, and they bantered for a bit. He didn’t mention Eddie. Screw it, what the hell was there to say?

The next morning, at exactly 10.37 am, Eddie Munson entered ‘Kitties.’ This time, he’d gotten a tie-dye scarf muffled up over his face and wore a crazy multi-coloured bucket hat.

He looked ridiculous.

Nothing could subdue that scent.

Steve felt a squeal bubbling in his throat, which he released only briefly. It was enough for Chrissy to shoot out from the back to check everything was okay.

Steve had his head in one of their regular customer’s laps, and they’d paid up till 11 o’clock. DAMN, DAMN, DAMN! He struggled to subdue his panic. He didn’t want Eddie to see him with another Alpha! It’s not like he could’ve refused the customer, but… a silent scream tore from the depths of his soul. Carol was already meeting and greeting Eddie, offering him Chrissy’s or indeed her service.

Which Eddie graciously refused. “I got time to wait for Steve. Any chance of an Irish coffee, Ma’am?”

“Sorry, we don’t have a liquor licence.”

“No sweat, Sweetheart. I’ll have a coconut-mocha with extra cream. It okay if I move the furniture a bit? I could do with a cosy corner.” He dropped his voice so soft and low Steve strained to hear it: “Somewhere where nobody can shove a camera in my face.”

“Absolutely, Sir. I’ll help. Chrissy—get over here!”

Eddie refused the aid of the Omegas and shifted a large couch himself. He then settled with what felt too much like a cold-shoulder to Steve—although his wish for privacy very much suited Steve too—and started scrolling on his cell.

Steve’s skin crawled every time the other Alpha touched him. When they skimmed the strip of bare flesh between his tight tee and shorts, his stomach seemed to flip upside down and refused to right itself. He couldn’t fake purr. His collar felt chokingly tight, and when he tried to take a gulp of air, Eddie’s beautiful scent caught in his windpipe.

He released it as a stifled sob, and then the purrs began to happen. They were definitely purrs of distress, and they shook him like a leaf. Maybe Eddie would realise Steve was not worth waiting for and leave?

Steve watched the clock crawl toward eleven. At which point, Carol snapped at Steve’s customer, “Time’s up, Mister. Steve is booked!”

Steve shuffled on his knees over to Eddie. The thread of Eddie’s scent—screw it, his sheer Alphaness—drew Steve like he was on a leash. He couldn’t suppress a pang of disappointment when Eddie left his scarf on and plopped a thin cushion into his lap. Christ, Steve wished he’d been able to wash! The other Alpha’s burnt-toast scent had been barely noticeable, easily drowned by the chemicals and Eddie. But would Eddie detect it and despise Steve for it?

“Sorry about the wait,” whispered Steve. “I… I…”

“It’s okay,” said Eddie. His tone was strange and rough, bordering on scary, before softening like melting butter: “I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” squeaked Steve, before he could help himself.

Wtf? Missed me? He’s lying—he only just met me!

Yeah, now he thought about it, Steve had spent every moment they’d been apart missing Eddie like hell. Alphas were different, right?

He sank his cheek onto Eddie’s cushioned lap, staring ahead at the slinky black cats silhouetted on the walls. Eddie’s fingers glided into Steve’s hair, and Steve’s stomach finally settled the right way up again. For the first time since he’d left Eddie’s lap yesterday, he felt totally warm, comfortable, serene… and, suddenly, so very safe.

“How’s your day going, Steve?”

“Oh, like, seriously, it sucks. And this creepy stalker Alpha just showed up and it’s gotten even worse. Um… Joking.” He was being sassy now? Where did that come from? Fortunately, Eddie hooted, and Steve’s voice wobbled with his excited purrs. “I’m good, thanks. How about you?”

“Mighty fine right now.” Eddie leaned down close, speaking quiet and confidential: “Got another manic afternoon in the recording studio coming up. I lost my mojo, Stevie, did you know that?”

The reminder that Eddie was a badass rockstar shook Steve’s happiness. Only for a moment. A little voice in his head squealed:

He called me Stevie again! He’s giving me PET NAMES!

Eddie’s knuckles skimmed, featherlight, down the curve of Steve’s throat, sending heat sparkling through several layers of skin. Eddie’s coffee-spiced breath ruffled Steve’s hair, and his world was perfect.

“I can’t imagine you’re ever not great at everything.” Steve revelled in the sensation of Eddie twisting a strand of Steve’s hair around a finger, giving it a gently delicious tug.

“You say the sweetest things, Sweetness,” replied Eddie. Then, with a bitter twist: “You clearly don’t follow much music news.”

“Hey, don’t say that! Music journo is my dream career.” Woah! Again with the sass. Again, Eddie chortled indulgently, while Steve added, “No, sorry. I really don’t.”

“Damn, you really are the puuuuurfect little kitty, aren’t you?” sighed Eddie. “Wish I could stay here all day.”

Steve was so overcome, he couldn’t even whisper, Me too.  An ecstatic little noise bubbled in Steve’s throat, which might’ve been a chirrup if he’d not swallowed it back in time. He’d never chirruped. Never! He pressed his legs together, scared that the slick trickling lightly from his slit would leak out of his shorts.

They were decidedly skimpier than yesterday’s shorts, basically hotpants—cut right at the line of his butt-cheeks. He wondered if Eddie’s eyes had wandered there yet. Despite the slick, he sure hoped so, and…

Dammit, focus on his touch, Harrington. Not on his scent. And definitely not on how close you are to his dick and how badly you want it inside you.

Apart from Steve didn’t want that, not really.

No Alpha had ever triggered such strong reactions in him. Which was all the more reason he shouldn’t get carried away. Eddie would never be interested in being Steve’s Alpha, even without Steve’s… complications in that department.

Eddie was here to relax a while. If not today, then soon, he’d leave and never look back.

Steve’s purrs grew fractious, though it turned out to be almost impossible to remain stressed out in Eddie’s lap. Like yesterday, Eddie seemed to read his anxiety, asking if Steve was okay, smoothing Steve’s hair till Steve’s troubles slipped away.

It helped that Eddie wanted to chat, and he was so fun and engaging Steve briefly forgot he was even an Alpha. It was like being with an old friend, though that was an experience that Steve wasn’t exactly flush with.

Eddie asked Steve about what music he liked, and Steve came clean instantly. He didn’t listen to music much. He got too easily overwhelmed by emotional tracks.

“I mean, I like a whole variety of music, honestly. It’s just, sometimes lyrics and melodies just get me so deep, and…” The next thought that popped into his head stunned him—I guess it might be different if I had an Alpha to guide me, to anchor me when my emotions are overstimulated. Nope. Would be waaaay too needy to say that out loud. “Wow, that sounds pathetic.” He wrinkled his nose, pressed a finger between his brows. “None of it makes sense.”

“It’s not pathetic, and it makes perfect sense,” said Eddie. Almost as if he’d heard the parts Steve hadn’t said out loud. “I mean, you might find Corroded Coffin a bit shouty.”

“I can do shouty,” said Steve.

With you to hold my hand… Oh, seriously self?!?

Turned out, despite Steve’s ‘difficulty’ with music, they liked plenty of other things in common. Including dainty little rose cupcakes, of which Eddie ordered a plateful, and fed to Steve with his fingertips.

Feeding the kitties was permitted—at the discretion of the kitty and as long as fingers didn’t enter mouths. Steve, naturally, was totally up for the chance to lap lightly at any part of Eddie, salty goodness mixed with super-sweet floral pastry.

“It cracks me up how many Alphas miss out on this good stuff because they’re scared their precious Alpha image will be tarnished,” said Eddie, when they’d finished the last mini cake. His fingers and thumb—deeply grooved from plucking strings and shiny wet with Steve’s saliva—still lingered on the cushion a hairs’ breadth from Steve’s lips. Gnnnnnng! What Steve wouldn’t give right now to inhale any one of those digits deep.

Softly, Eddie asked, “What about you, Steve? What do you enjoy that flips the bird in the face of conformity—that’s totally un-Omega?”

Steve closed his eyes to temptations of the flesh. If only it was so easy to shut out Eddie’s scent! He focussed on the question: “I used to love sports, especially swimming. Before I presented Omega, I used to train three times a week. Tho’ I got really nervous, I loved racing, the thrill of competition. I miss that.” His latest purr mingled with a heartfelt sigh. “Nobody lets Omegas train, and even those special Omega hours at pools are few and far between and so stupidly pricey. I heard a rumour it’s because they don’t want the pools all slicked up. Jesus, we can control ourselves!”

At least, when we’re not being petted by super-hot Alphas.

“That really sucks,” agreed Eddie. “Steve, I might know a pool where—”

“No, no, no, no, no,” said Steve, kinda panicked suddenly without knowing why. “It’s fine. It’s one of those things I just need to let go of.”

An uneasy growl rumbled from Eddie’s core, but he must’ve sensed Steve’s renewed agitation, because he let it drop.

He probably just wanted to see Steve in his speedos. Steve sure as hell would love to see how Eddie managed to stuff his Alpha dick into his.

Eddie returned the next day, having booked Steve for the entire morning in advance, and they chatted more. This time Steve spent most of the hour sitting in his lap for a proper cuddle. Steve hugged around Eddie’s neck, clinging tight as he dared. He was glad of the scarf there, muffling Eddie’s scent slightly. He ended up turning his face away, anyhow. Like on Monday, he was petrified he wouldn’t be able to stop himself burying his nose there, nor turning super-submissive and baring his own throat.

Once again, breaking the rules himself.

Why did Eddie have to be sexy Alpha perfection incarnate and a great guy? And his voice… Gnnng! It touched some secret place in Steve, chiming happy chords buried so deep he’d never known they were there.

Before long, though, Steve had gotten his head notched cosily beneath Eddie’s chin and was keen to get as much of himself into Eddie’s lap as possible. He huddled into a ball, knees hitching till his bare heels kissed Eddie’s thighs.

No part of him was cold now. He couldn’t remember what cold was, hardly. Being with Eddie was like a dream.

But he was not gonna fall asleep again. He didn’t want to miss a precious second with Eddie, whether laughing and chatting, or just quietly snuggling. He even adored the way Eddie hugged him a little tighter—once almost bruisingly so—whenever another Alpha passed by. Once or twice, Eddie growled at them, too. It was all daft, because it was merely an Alpha being Alpha, following his possessive, protective instincts. It didn’t mean anything. Steve basked in the vibes, all the same.

“Same time tomorrow?” asked Eddie, when, with an obvious reluctance, he allowed Steve off his lap.

Steve glanced uneasily between Eddie and Carol. The café was quiet, and she was busy arranging the pastries. “I’m on in the evening tomorrow,” admitted Steve. “It’s ‘kitty-kitted-up’ night—you know, we wear the ears and whiskers and shit. Oh, and we screech like kitties in heat too. I mean, most of the customers need earplugs to stop their brains imploding.”

“Steve!” snapped Carol, while Steve enjoyed Eddie’s goofy grin. “Stop fooling around. Honestly, Sir. Nobody screeches.”

“Aw, shame,” said Eddie. “That sounded like a blast. Either way, I’m in.” Then he cringed, and Steve’s heart seemed to drop like a stone. “I guess it’s pretty popular? I take it you don’t have, I dunno, anywhere private I can book? A back room or something?”

“You know, we don’t,” said Carol, making moon eyes at Eddie, while Steve’s knees gave way beneath him. His butt slammed heavily onto the couch—onto the lusciously warm patch Eddie had vacated.

A private room. Alone with Eddie.

Oh. My. God.

“However, you are our favorite customer.” Carol’s smile verged on a simper.  “I’ll talk to Tommy. I’m sure we can figure something out.”

Eddie turned to Steve, who scrambled to his feet. “You okay with that, Steve?”

Steve nodded. Yes, he was.  He shouldn’t be, but this was Eddie. He wanted to ask Carol if the same rules would apply as usual.

His voice failed him. To be fair, he hardly cared if they did, or they didn’t. He just wanted to be back in Eddie’s lap.

“You sure?” prompted Eddie. “Because if you feel uncomfortable about this in any way—”

“No! It’s fine.”

Steve trusted Eddie. Maybe he shouldn’t. Crazily, he did. These past three days, he figured he should’ve felt more scared about his past catching up than usual, about being found out.

He didn’t. His past seemed more distant than ever. Having Eddie in his life made him feel safer.

Yup, crazy.

“Honestly, I like the idea,” he said, dispelling a final hint of doubt from Eddie’s sincere and searching gaze. “It gets us away from Carol here. She can screech high enough to shatter glass.”

“Shut up already, Steve!” Carol tittered and blushed in equal measures. “We don’t screech, Mister Munson. Honest. He’s being a total douche.”

After Eddie had gone, Steve managed to resist analysing his emotions too deeply by squealing his head off with Chrissy and Carol and dancing around the café.

Right until another customer turned up, and they all had to crash back to earth pronto.

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

Thank you so very much for reading. If you enjoyed, every little like and reblog or comment means a lot to me so thank you💚

I am always happy to tag, pls let me know, or you can follow the tag #steddie omega cat cafe 💚

tags 💚🐈‍⬛💚 @disrespectedgoatman 💚 @bumblebeecuttlefishes

@katethetank 💚 @themoonagainstmers 💚

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

[ifishouldvanish]

For Love (Pt. 3/5)

SHIPS | Mizrak/Olrox, Past Alucard/Olrox, ...future AluMizRox RATING | M (will probably become E next chapter... 👀) WORDS | 2,005 FIC SUMMARY | After the hard-won battle, Alucard can't help checking in on how Olrox and Mizrak are doing. When he finds them hiding in an abandoned Parisian apartment, he's furious to learn his old companion has turned the valiant warrior monk into a vampire. And yet... his heart won't let him leave. [Part 1] | [Part 2] | [Part 3] [READ ON AO3]

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Sometimes it was Alucard who came to feed him. Sometimes it was Olrox. Sometimes, both of them came, with some kind of rodent or fowl or other small game.

They had dragged a human in this morning, but Mizrak couldn't bring himself to feed on it despite all their coaxing. Despite all their insistence that he would have to make his peace with it, for he could only sustain himself on animals and the generosity of two other vampires for so long.

When Olrox fed him, he would strip and lie on the bed in offering, encouraging him to embrace the base instincts of his thirst. To let go of guilt, let go of shame. To indulge in the pleasure of it, instead of denying himself like he had all his mortal life.

Alucard's approach was to show him how to exercise restraint. To ride out the episodes of frenzy and desperate hunger so he could feed with a clear head. So he could confront this thing he'd become on a more conscious level, rather than let it take over and his feedings become blackout moments that felt somewhere between reality and dream, memory and nightmare.

The hunger pangs were becoming less intense, at least. Easier to get through, to stay in control of. Which was leaving Mizrak with the time and faculties to think.

He sat on the edge of the bed once again, still toeing the line of sunlight that cracked through the curtains. The world had become strange, with his new, heightened senses. He thought he might miss the sunlight, but his eyes now saw so well in the dark, he'd hardly given it a thought.

Instead, he wondered what his eyes looked like now. If they were the same hellfire red most of the vampires he'd seen had had, or the emerald green Olrox had. But while the lavish apartment they were in had plenty of mirrors, he couldn't see himself reflected in any of them.

He liked to think they'd be green. Perhaps, he wondered one time after Alucard had fed him, the color might be influenced by his food source. Perhaps right now, they'd be something in between Alucard's gold and Olrox's emerald.

He supposed he could ask either of them, but he was a little bit afraid of the answer.

And then there were his ears. He could hear everything.

Alucard and Olrox spoke often in the other room. Sometimes they argued, sometimes they laughed. Most of the time, they did both.

It was plain to see that they were close. When they weren't arguing over how best to get him acclimated to his new life, they reminisced about a past spent in the New World. People and places with names that sounded strange to Mizrak's ears.

He'd gleaned that at some point, some kind of demon had brought Alucard to the brink of death, and that Olrox had brought him back to life with the gift of his blood.

When Mizrak had first come to after his turning, angry and frightened and confused, Olrox had simply assured him that he’d done it for love.

But back in that quiet room at the inn in Machecoul, Olrox had also told him that he'd only ever truly loved once in the past—and that that man was dead.

It made Mizrak wonder: If Olrox had given Alucard his blood for some reason other than love, then what had it been? Selflessness? Honor? Respect? And why was Alucard here? Still, after three days? Patiently feeding another vampire’s spawn every few hours?

It could only be love, couldn't it? Because Mizrak had gleaned that too. That Alucard had been in love with Olrox. That he probably still was.

Yes. Each time Alucard restrained him through a fit of bloodlust and offered his wrist to him, it was an act of love. Love for Olrox. A desire to spare the man he still loved—a man who did not love him back—the pain of losing him.

The thought made Mizrak feel sick to his stomach with shame.

What had he done for love? Olrox had protected him time and time again, risked his position with Bàthory’s court to warn him, gotten himself branded—all for love. But what had he, Mizrak, done for love?

You're an animal, which lost its soul centuries ago.

You're a creature without honor.

Every moment I spend with you dishonors me.

Get thee behind me, Satan.

Everything he'd known about a vampire’s nature had been a lie, it seemed. Had made it so easy to look at everything Olrox did and assume it could only have been for selfish, duplicitous reasons. So easy to believe that he'd turned him out of nothing more than a refusal to let go of something he felt belonged or was owed to him. An act of possession. That he was a damned creature determined to drag his soul down to hell with him.

But it wasn’t true, was it?

All those things he'd thought he'd known had simply made it easier to pretend he hadn't felt the way he did. To put the onus on some demonic spell Olrox had cast on him, rather than the stirrings of his own heart.

When Mizrak thought back on the things he'd done—the deal with Bàthory, the harvesting of bodies for night creatures—he liked to think it was for the love of God. And God was supposed to forgive. But He had not. He'd let the flames of hell lick at his heels instead.

Olrox had forgiven him, though. Olrox had—despite all those terrible things he'd said—only ever met him with love and compassion, with patience and understanding.

Olrox had turned him for love. Of that Mizrak was certain now. But what about him? Why was he here? Why had he let Olrox turn him without a word of protest?

It had to be either because he loved him back, and was ready to accept an eternity at his side—or because he was a coward, too afraid to accept his punishment.

The more he heard the two of them talk, laugh, argue in the other room—the more he saw the pained look in Alucard’s eyes each time he fed him—the more it felt like the latter.

And didn't Olrox deserve better than that? Deserve someone who loved him in turn? Someone like—

Mizrak's ears pricked as the doorknob rattled from the other side. The door creaked open, and Olrox appeared. “…You’re awake.” He observed in a quiet voice, and there was a slight smile, too—but it faltered when Mizrak failed to say anything. “…What's the matter, darling?”

Mizrak looked down at the floor. “You say you love me,” he said.

Olrox closed the door behind him and crossed the room, sitting beside him on the bed. He cupped his cheek and looked into his eyes. “I do.”

A wave of feeling crashed over him, and Mizrak clenched his eyes shut—holding back the sob threatening to come out. They were words he'd already heard countless times before from Olrox, but this time… this was the first time he'd listened to them, let them in.

“Why?” He sniffled. “I've… called you terrible things, denied you so many times. The only reason I let you turn me is because I was too much of a—” he choked on the admission and swallowed. “Too much of a coward to face my death with honor.”

“I don't believe that,” Olrox dismissed, shaking his head. “I can see what's in your heart, Mizrak,” he said, and took his hand. “I am a coward, and you are everything that I am not.”

Mizrak let himself be pulled into his embrace, let himself be held. Let himself be rocked in his arms like a newborn, let himself be lulled into a state of safety and calm.

“…Come now,” Olrox said, giving him a final squeeze before letting go. “You should feed again.”

Mizrak nodded lifelessly, watching as Olrox began the familiar routine of removing his clothes. He would undress, lie down, and tell him to let the hunger take over. And for two days, he had. Fed upon him like an animal, telling himself he couldn't help it. That his new, vampiric instincts were to blame. But now his head was clear, and it just felt wrong. Wrong to take even more from this man that had already given him so much.

“Wait,” Mizrak said, stopping his hand where it was fingering the first of his buttons. Green eyes locked with his, brows furrowed in confusion. Swallowing thickly, Mizrak began to brush his thumb to and fro over Olrox's.

He really was beautiful, Mizrak thought, and all that feeling came flooding back. Mere days ago, he'd bent and twisted it into disgust, contempt, hatred. Anything to deny the truth. But now Mizrak knew them for what they really were. All the things Olrox had told him they were.

Longing.

Desire.

Love.

“…Let me,” Mizrak whispered, undid the first button for him.

Olrox lowered his hand and let him, watching him intently as he worked—looking not at his hands, but at his face. It made Mizrak begin to feel self-conscious, but when he dared to meet Olrox's gaze, he only saw the same tenderness as always.

He undid the next, and then another, his hand hovering in the place over Olrox’s heart. There was still some bruising there from prior feedings, and Mizrak thought of the Sacred Heart. A symbol of God’s boundless and passionate love for mankind. But the man before him wasn’t Christ. Just Olrox—this man, this vampire—with a boundless, passionate love for him.

As Mizrak reached the last of the buttons, he saw Olrox's hand resting in his lap and stared at it in hesitation—but what for? When had Olrox ever rebuffed him? Ever turned him away?

It had only ever been him, turning his back to the love Olrox so desperately wanted to give him.

Olrox kept inviting him to give into his hunger, give into his bloodthirst. Inviting him to devour and take as much as he wanted from him. But Mizrak didn't want to take or devour anymore. Didn’t want to take of him like an animal. God had still given him free will, after all, and Alucard had shown him that he could still use it. That he could feed consciously, with intent.

And now that Mizrak’s head was clear, he was seeing the man in front of him in a different light. It wasn’t predatory instinct, or temptation, no. No, love was the reason that, as he looked at Olrox’s bruised chest and serpentine eyes, he wanted to give back to him. Wanted to pray to him. Wanted to adore him and to praise him.

Slowly, Mizrak reached for Olrox's hand and laced their fingers, and by God, this feeling was everything. Such fullness and lightness, such warmth and peace. It was everything God's love was supposed to be. It would have been more than enough, had he known. Would have been worth facing an eternity of hell’s torment, had he let himself feel it before.

To think, he had almost been dragged to hell without ever knowing this feeling. But now he would have it for eternity. And Olrox had given him that.

Mizrak brought Olrox's hand to his lips and pressed a reverent kiss to his knuckles, the tears that had been welling in his eyes finally rolling down his cheeks as he clenched them shut.

“…Mizrak?”

“Forgive me,” he uttered before giving his hand another kiss. “Olrox, please forgive me—”

Olrox let out a string of placating shushing noises, wresting his hand free so he could cup Mizrak's face instead. He waited for him to open his eyes, and wiped his tears away with his thumbs.

“You're already forgiven, my love,” he said, and pressed a kiss to his forehead, and then his lips. “You'll always be forgiven.”

[plumeria1]

The sound of Love

Masterlist

Note: Sevika won the poll so she starts this Arcane Valentine's Day Week. Don't forget that this is my first post about her, so please be understanding. I did my best to stay true to the character.

Also, I created the #Arcane Valentine's Day Week Then it's easier for you to find the posts without go on my profile😉

Pairing: Sevika x Fem Reader

Warning: None

Content: Fluff

Summary: You need to find the perfect gift for Sevika

It had been almost a month that you had been trying to find a Valentine's Day gift for Sevika, but nothing seemed good enough.

If it was too fragile, she might break it, as she doesn’t always control her strength. If it was too cute, she might not like it; it didn’t seem to be her style.

Nothing seemed right. So, you asked the person closest to Sevika for advice: Jinx. If anyone could help, it was her.

-You want me to make her something for you?

-Absolutely not. I know you, Jinx, you would probably make something that would blow up in her face.

She laughs. You were completely right.

It's a nightmare, every time I think of something, I realize she won’t like it.

You let yourself fall heavily.

-I don’t know what to do anymore.

-I don’t see how I can help. Why not just ask her directly?

You would have liked it to be that simple.

-I thought about it, but remember, I already tried that for her birthday, and she only had one idea. So, I don’t see why it would be any different now.

-It’s been two years that you’ve been together, and you still don’t have any good ideas? It must be really empty in your head.

Jinx and you spent the next two hours brainstorming all sorts of ideas, but none of them seemed good. Jinx seemed to be really thinking this time; normally, she would have stopped after five minutes, but she was genuinely invested in helping you.

Although “close” wasn’t the right word to describe their relationship, they both supported each other enough to know that the other would step in to help in case of need—even though they were too proud to admit it.

-Jinx, why are you so eager to help me?

-It’s just that... since Silco's death, she’s the only one who ever took care of me. So, I can do this for her.

Now you understood better.

-And you? Why are you starting so early? Valentine’s Day is still a month away; you’ve got time.

-I know, but I want to make sure I have the right gift, and getting it ready now will save me time.

-You’re a weird girl. Who plans a month in advance? What did you do for your first Valentine’s Day?

-Nothing.

Jinx raised an eyebrow. You had met before Valentine’s Day, so why didn’t you do anything?

-I was bedridden, so she came to take care of me. That’s why I want to give her something really nice this time.

She gave a small smile. Now it made sense—this was just about being kind.

It was decided, she was going to help you.

-Well, we still have a month to think it through; we’ll eventually come up with something.

The next two weeks had been hell, two weeks of intense reflection where every idea ended up in the trash. It was endless.

But you didn’t neglect Sevika either; you spent a lot of time with her, even if sometimes you were distracted by your quest for the perfect gift.

-You sure you’re okay?

-Yes, everything’s fine. I just had my mind elsewhere.

And then, one day, Jinx returned, accompanied by a little girl.

Her name was Isha. Jinx had decided to take care of her, and since then, they hadn’t left each other’s side. When Jinx was away, she asked you and Sevika to keep an eye on Isha, which didn’t bother you at all.

Most of the time, she played with Jinx’s things or, like now, was sleeping, which gave you both a chance to chat a bit.

-You really don’t want to tell me what’s going on? It’s been two weeks that you’ve had your head elsewhere.

She seemed genuinely concerned about you, but you couldn’t tell her anything yet; you had to hold on.

-I’m fine, stop worrying, trust me.

You hoped that would be enough for her. A small noise caught your attention. It was coming from Jinx’s bed. You approached and saw Isha tossing and turning in her sleep. She looked like she was having a nightmare.

Amazingly, it was Sevika who stepped forward to comfort the little girl.

-Can you get some water? She might need some if she wakes up.

You complied automatically. When you returned, you tried to make as little noise as possible, but you could hear a soft humming. The closer you got, the more you realized it was Sevika humming to calm Isha’s nightmare. It seemed to be working because the little girl had stopped tossing and turning and was now peacefully asleep.

-That was beautiful.

Sevika turned around, having heard your voice.

-Have you been here long?

-Long enough to hear you sing.

-It was my... my mother who used to sing that to me when I was little and had bad dreams. It worked every time, so I thought I’d try it.

Sevika had never really talked to you about her parents. You knew they had passed away when she was a child, but that was all.

It reminds me of when I was little; sometimes I think about it.

She seemed lost in thought, probably reminiscing about her childhood. Then you had a realization – you had just found the perfect gift for her.

A little later, Jinx returned, and you and Sevika headed home to spend a quiet evening.

-Any plans for tomorrow?

-I have to meet the Chem-Barons. Wanna come?

She looked annoyed at the mere thought of this meeting; if it were up to her, she’d rather stay home with you.

-I’d love to, but I have something to do too.

You kissed each other goodnight and fell asleep.

The next morning, when you woke up, Sevika had already left, leaving you a little note.

“You looked like you were sleeping too well for me to wake you up. Have a good day.”

You hurried to get dressed and ran to Jinx's hideout.

-Jinx! Jinx, you're here?

-Don’t shout like that. I’m coming.

Half-awake, Jinx came toward you, yawning and rubbing her eyes.

-What?

-I found it!

-Found what?

-The gift for Sevika. I found what I’m going to give her. But I need your help.

You explained your plan to Jinx, who listened to you with a bored expression, but you knew she was paying attention to everything you were saying.

-So? Are you going to help me?

-Alright, alright. But I need what’s missing soon.

You hurriedly set off again, crossing Zaun to reach the checkpoint between the city and Piltover. Once the Enforcers let you pass, you made your way to the merchant district and entered a shop where you knew you could find what you needed.

The manager had told you it would take several days before it was ready. Upon your return, you took a detour to inform Jinx, who had already started working under Isha's watchful eye.

Three days later, you returned to Piltover to pick up your package and brought it to Jinx so she could finish her work.

The beginning of February started well, and Valentine's Day finally arrived. Sevika had spent the day working but surprised you with dinner. You hadn’t imagined her to be a good cook, but you were pleasantly surprised.

She had given you a jacket that you had wanted to buy for some time, but had been too busy to pick up.

She looked surprised when you handed her a small box, observing the little gears installed all over it.

She looked back at you with a small smile.

-Open it.

When she opened the box, a soft melody began to play. She immediately recognized it – it was the same one she had sung to Isha when she had a nightmare. The same one her mother had sung to her when she was little and had nightmares.

-I hope it’s the right tune. I hummed it to the seller, and he recognized it, so it should be right.

She had been staring at the music box for a while, and by the time the music looped back, she answered you.

-Yes, that’s this one. Thank you. How did you do this?

-I had Jinx’s help. She was the one who actually made the box.

You could see the emotion in her eyes, and it made you happy to know she liked your gift. She held you in her arms for a long moment. You could feel her breath on your neck and her muscular arms tightening around you.

Suddenly, she lifted you and carried you over her shoulder, surprising you.

-Sevika! What are you doing?

You heard a low, deep laugh as she kept walking toward your room.

-I’m thanking you properly.

Let’s just say, neither of you got much sleep that night.

-------------------------------------------------------

Note: You can't imagine how much I'm nervous right now. Sevika is one of the most loved Arcane character and I really hope you liked this. Just know I tried my best.

[ploridafanthers]

my boss pointed out to me recently that the reason the miami dolphins always start off so hot is because at the beginning of the NFL season it's already hotter than absolute hell out here and they can beat out teams by attrition, and then by the playoffs when other teams are experiencing "winter" whatever that is we can't cope with the disparity and fall apart

thanks boss in two minutes you really wrang out a lifetime of past-and-future hope from me like a washcloth

[vaguely-concerned]

a collection of early game ingellvar moments that made me go '...oh. oh rook LOVES loves the grand necropolis huh' with devastating force in my first playthough (+ one bonus lucanis being -- perhaps not quite convinced because his delivery makes me so happy and I made this for me. every day I'm so incredibly glad you're here even if you maybe aren't so much yet lucanis)

[sieglinde-freud]

let it be known that i love prince inigo with my whole soul. however sometimes it is SO much fun to think about owain and his two most loyal-est knights you ever seen: worst guy in the world #1 and worst guy in the world #2. i love retainer inigo and severa so much. retainers who bully you and make fun of you and trash on you but they’d leave behind everyone and everything they ever knew to follow you and protect you in a whole new universe. they love you so much that they’d swear allegiance to total strangers but that loyalty pales in comparison to what they’d do for you. and they were all lovers!!!!!!!

[satoruxx]

the way i was staring at my screen when mc threw a whole ass cup at caleb and he just stood there after it shattered and said "did that help you calm down?" in the most relaxed voice ever..