#update: i just checked the list of all the errands

[deceitfuldevout]

Highest Bidder

Dark!Robert Fishcher x Sugarbaby!Reader

Word Count: +3,066

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Loss of virginity, Human auction, Housewife kink, Breeding kink, Misogynistic remarks, Insults, Just plain abuse, Robert is a warning himself.

Author's Note(s): I have been thinking about this for a hot minute. Inspired by @mypoisonedvine Robert Fischer fic go check it out!!

You couldn't stop checking your phone for an update. He was supposed to be here an hour ago. Did he bail? Part of you had hoped so. It would make things a lot easier. Years ago, if someone had told you that you'd be auctioning off your virginity, well, the first thing you'd do is laugh in their face.

That was before everything went to shit. Your parents ended up in neck-deep debt trying to pay off your college, borrowing money from some sleazy loaner company. Soon having no choice but to debate on filing for bankruptcy. Everything they've worked hard for, gone. You didn't want them to worry about that anymore.

This wasn't a huge deal for you. Personally, you've never had any luck with guys and would rather get this over with. Growing up you were always the awkward, ugly duckling of the friend group, so a boyfriend was out of the picture. Only sharing an innocent kiss with a childhood friend, but that was a long time ago. It was only after you reached your 20's where you began to bloom.

He'd bought your outfit and covered the cost of everything. He wants you ready and waiting for him, all wrapped up like a pretty present. He's very particular about these things, even making a list of errands to run before the big day. He requested for photos of the hair and makeup you'd be wearing for the evening. Scolding you every time you did something he disliked. He wouldn't even try hiding it. You reread his previous text message: Change the makeup. It makes you look like a cheap whore. You scoff at the response...how rude.

Even before all of this he would try to test your patience. Sending messages like, 'Do you know who I am? You should be more grateful that I'm giving you this much attention," or "Anyone would be lucky to be in your position,' which made you physically roll your eyes. This morning, he had given you a call as a reminder of where you would meet. He send you the hotel address with money for a cab.

He made sure to give you call in the afternoon as a reminder of what to do after arriving, ending it with, "I don't want to hear any complaining when I get there." before hanging up. You grumble a stray of curse words, this had better been worth it...

You couldn't believe your eyes on how luxurious the hotel was. It's entrance had been decorated with marble and brass statues. There wasn't a drop of it that didn't scream 'money'. You sheepishly sign in, allowing a worker to carry your bag to the room. It had taken a while before you could reach the top. Part of you was impressed, he had really gone all out.

As soon as you enter the room there was this sort of romantic ambiance to it. From the lighting, to the breathtaking scenery of the city. It was all so...dreamy. But this was no dream. You were going to have sex for the first time with some old, rich geezer, gross. You take note of a shopping bag left on the bed, opening it to find a lingerie set.

You held the fabric, inspecting the material. White lace, with hints of glitter that shine in the light. At least the old man has good taste. You take a look at yourself in the mirror, humming at the sight of it. Not bad...hell, you looked fantastic.

Suddenly the door knob jingles, then a heavy knock follows. You leapt from the bed, approaching to open the door for him. But before you could reach the knob it slams open. A man enters, sporting a well-tailored suit, dressed to the nines from head-to-toe. His hair is combed back, a few strands dangle against his forehead. As you scan the man's face, you couldn't help but notice how handsome he was.

There's a light rosy hue to his cheeks. You first notice the striking blues of his eyes and how long his lashes are. He looks like he'd have no problem at all searching for someone. So what is he doing paying for someone like you? For a moment, you were in awe of his presence. Staring back at the man like a deer caught in headlights.

The meeting today had taken its toll on Robert. He was supposed to meet with you hours ago, but there had been an emergency with the company's shareholders. He could practically feel his blood boiling, to the point where it felt almost difficult to breathe. He tugs his tie off and yanks for his shirt to open, a few buttons go flying. He lets out a huff, scanning the room with his blue orbs for something, more specifically, someone.

"So you're the one I've been talking to eh?" a hint of humor in his voice, "Let me guess, you're a good girl caught up in the wrong crowd? Is that it?" he taunts, "I'm sure you've 'never' done this before," the corners of his mouth turn upward into a sinister grin. His eyes are emotionless. Cold as ice. Yet why did they seem so comforting? As if you've seen them before.

He drops his suitcase at the end of the bed, turning towards you. He eyes you up and down, as if he were deep in thought, "Give me a spin," and of course you follow his orders. He raises a brow, "Come here," he commands. You stare back at him, unsure of what he'd just said. Robert sighs, he doesn't have time for this. He's slightly drunk and exhausted from work. Right now he just wants some hard, animalistic fucking.

He tugs your underwear to the side, examining his prize. He bunches up the waistband of your panties before yanking the fabric down. You held your breath, now riddled with anxiety. This was a bit too...casual for comfort. He fists the fabric, holding it to the side while the other hand held your hip.

His voice is deep, much deeper in person, "Hold it for me," he wants to get a good look at his purchase. His thick fingers slide down your pubic area, grazing against the bare skin, he hums, "Even waxed yourself like I told you to, good girl." he slaps the side of your hip, as if he were examining livestock. Your stomach coils at the realization. Never in your life have you felt so...objectified. Still, now wasn't the time to back down. He pushes you against a desk. Until you were now leaning on the table.

He spreads your folds with his thick digits, examining them closely. He held your clit between his fingers, pinching it lightly. You let out a whine from the sensation, bucking your hips from the sudden discomfort. He retreats his hand before flipping you over. His chest now against your back. He pushes you against the table, bending you over for a better view. He was in no rush.

He rubs his fingers over your bare slit. His thumb caresses your bundle of nerves. As soon as he retreats you finally snap the fabric back in place. Now lowering your head with embarrassment. He grips your chin, lifting it until you're face-to-face, "No don't hide from me now..." he plops himself on a chair, tilting his chin up, "Why don't you make yourself useful and help me get this off?"

If you weren't getting paid you would've scoffed at his rudeness. It was obvious he was into power play. Being in total control of everything. Now wasn't the time for letting your emotions emotions get involved. You help him remove his coat and tie, even unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. He's still wearing his pants, now unclasped. He stares you down, a smirk now lingering on his cold features, "Take off your clothes,"

When you start to quickly unclasp the garter belt, Robert's voice booms, "Stop." he orders, "Do it slower," he leans back in the recliner, already palming his erection. You shyly unclasp your belt, letting the straps fall off each shoulder. His hand grazes on an exposed breast, sending shivers down your spine.

He chuckles, "Oh...don't tell me you're that sensitive?" a crude remark. Your brows furrow, why did he have to tease you so? He notices your obvious discomfort, "Don't worry darling, your only job is to fuck," as if that would make things better, "Do you know how to suck cock?" he questions. You give him a hesitant nod, "No...I've never done it before this is my first time--"

"I didn't ask for a whole life story,"

"...No," your lips press in a thin line. He was really pushing it, "So you've never had sex or sucked cock before, tell me, what have you done?" he pulls out his member, already hard and leaking. It's tip was flush pink, the same as his lips. He spits into his palm before working himself up, he knows you're nervous. He wants you to be intimidated by him. He pumps his shafts with slow strokes, "Tell me, what gets you off..." he sighs.

You look down to your feet, suddenly his voice booms, "No, do not look away," to which you began to tear up. His voice is soft now, "Sweetheart, look at me," he huffs. You look up at him now with tearful eyes, he groans, "Oh...that's it..." stroking his cock faster. A finger points directly at you in a 'come hither' motion. You walk towards him, still eyeing his shaft. How was that going to fit?

You felt warm despite the lack of clothing, there's a pooling sensation between your legs. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap. His tongue darts against a breast. He teases the bud with his teeth. He made sure it was swollen and sensitive before giving attention to the other breast.

You never knew it could feel this...good. As soon as your hands reach for his hair he instantly stops, Robert remembers the reason why you're here. It wasn't to see him. You only wanted one thing, and he doesn't have time to play pretend. He just came here to collect what he's owed. At the end of the day, you were just a hired whore. He swats both hands away, giving you the cold shoulder. He lifts himself from the seat, throwing you against the carpet. You're confused at the sudden mood swing. It frightens you. Where the hell did that come from?

"It's a shame, you were doing so well," Robert sits up, his leaking cock now presses against his abdomen. He's pissed. He paid you for your time, you were suppose to focus only on his needs. Every word that came from his mouth dripped with anger, "It seems like you need a reminder on whore etiquette," he knows you've probably fucked a few before him, this was all part of your little roleplay act.

"I'm not a whore!" you detest lying, what made him not believe you? Forget it...this wasn't worth an argument, "You know what? You can take your money back asshole! Fuck this and fuck you--" a hand grips around your neck. He'll have to show you a thing or two of what comes with selling yourself out, especially to a complete stranger. You've always knew deep down that you'd regret your first, but this was downright terrifying.

This man, he didn't even see you as a person. As a human being. To him, this was all a transaction that was paid for, "What did you think that website was for? It's a human auction. Not just your cunt. Meaning I own your ass for the next few hours," he leans in, pressing his nose against yours, he growls, "Remember your place..."

Robert pulls you up by the hair, throwing you onto the bed. You scramble to get away but he's much stronger. He began to wrestle you. To which you land a slap on his cheek, hard enough to leave a mark. You pause, now too scared to move. He touches the tender skin, it would surely leave a bruise tomorrow. Which just so happens to be an important meeting, "You little bitch..." he grips your jaw until it aches, forcing your mouth to open.

He takes the opportunity to spit inside, covering your mouth and pinching your nose. You felt like you wanted to gag. Finally, after fighting to hold your breath, you swallow. He grins, "See? even if you try to fight me, I always get what I want..."

You, of all people, should know this about him. Instead you try putting up a fight, "I hate you! I hate you! Let me go!" thrashing around. Both of his hands now pressed against your throat. He scolds, "If you want it to hurt I'll make it hurt like nothing else..." he flips you over, pressing his body against your own, making it harder to breathe.

He lets his pants slide down. Tugging off his boxers. He spits a wad into his hand, that should be enough to get comfortable, for him. But for you? Well, he wants it to hurt you. Otherwise, how will you learn? Whores like you deserve to feel pain. That's what you get for teasing him in your photos. He growls into your ear, "Time to try my pussy..."

He yanks down your panties before pressing his leaking tip against your opening. He muffles your cries in his palm. You couldn't hold back the tears. This man is going to break you! As retaliation you tilt your head to the side and bit into his forearm. He grunts from the pain, it only encourages him to carry out your punishment. He thrusts harder, grinding down his hips to reach as deep as he could go.

You sob from the pain, going limp from shock. All you could do was cry into his hand, bracing yourself against the cushioning below. You turned your head to face the mirror, taking a good look at your own sad, pathetic reflection. You were being dominated by a complete stranger. How did it get to this point? When did you become so pathetic? So desperate to the point where you became a whore for hire?

He held you close to his chest. He knows now you're too tired to fight him off. He kept jutting his hips back and fourth, moaning in your ear with a deep grumble. You could smell the alcohol and cigarettes on his breath. It repulses you. The only sounds that could be heard in the room were of skin-to-skin slapping, Robert's insults, and your muffled cries.

"Fuck....fuck m'gonna cum..." he grunts. He rubs his nose against the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scented perfume. He drags his face across the soft, supple skin. He can tell by the shimmer that you applied an expensive lotion earlier. Of course you wanted him, what woman wouldn't? He's handsome, rich, successful, he's the entire package.

So why were you begging for him not to finish inside? You were just being stubborn, that's all. He'll have to remind you of who's in charge, "I bought this pussy fair and square. If I want to put a baby in it, then bitch, I will," he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, biting until the skin breaks. He doesn't stop thrusting his hips. Plunging his cock deep inside to coat your womb. He moans, furrowing his brows from the feeling of your velvety walls.

"You think you're better than me huh? Old enough to fuck but not old enough to get knocked up, yeah fucking right" he huffs, "You just wanted an excuse to be whore..." His voice becomes hoarse, as the pleasure began to increase, "Fuck...fuck I'll buy you a big house just so I can fuck you in it...hm...yeah you'd like that wouldn't you?" he doesn't stop his vigorous thrusts, "I’ll fuck some babies into you hm? You'd like that? I’ll give you a baby with blue eyes…something to remind you of me…" he flips you over, locking an arm around your neck.

All you could do was whine as you wait for the inevitable. Robert licks a stripe against your ear. He grunts with satisfaction, "Want you to remember this for the rest of your life....every time you think about your first time, you'll be thinking of me...." he fastens his pace. All you could do was stare back at your reflection. A tear trickles down your cheek. You couldn't help but agree. It was true, this moment would haunt you for the rest of your life.

Robert knows it. That's what gives him such an ego boost. He felt like he was on top of the fucking world. He growls in your ear, "Remember this, I.Fucking.Own.You." before unloading his spunk deep inside. He muffles a moan in the crook of your neck, bowing his head down to feel the bliss of it all. Fuck, he never came so much in his life. Was it the adrenaline or the pussy? He doesn't care. All he knows is that it's money well spent.

He slowly begins to pull out, hissing from the pleasure your pussy gave. He moans at the sight of his shaft dipped in a crimson tint, "Fuck me...if that isn't a sight for sore eyes..." he's made sure to mark his territory. He flips you over, you're too scared to even look at him.

He slides his hand from your stomach to your pelvis, "Hold on...I want to see it.." giving your lower abdomen a light push, forcing the rest of his seed out. It's mixed with a string of red. His lids are hooded, there's a twitch to his features. He grins, "Fuck...guess you weren't lying about me being your first..." he chuckles, "And here I thought you were just another lying whore..." playing with your emotions.

Robert lifts himself from the bed. He retrieves his belt on the floor, tying your wrists to the bed post. He doesn't want to risk you running away from him. Not while he still had a few hours left. He fixes himself in the mirror, coming his hair back to how it was before. Making sure that there wasn't a single strand out of place. He admires himself in the mirror. He felt like a fucking champ. Like nothing in the world could stop him, and so far there hasn't been.

Robert knew this was a good idea the moment he saw your profile online. He'd been tracking you down for quite some time, it's been a while. His obsession growing with each message sent. He had to own you. Mind, body, and soul. It was a good idea to install the hidden camera in the hotel. He could only stare at you from his office, viewing you changing into the set he'd purchased, admiring yourself in the mirror. He had to wait another agonizing hour before work was finished.

He notices the way you'd tried being presentable, all for him. How you would constantly check your phone just to see what his orders were. Submissive, compliant, needy. So fucking needy. That little pussy of yours needed his cock to break it in. He doesn't want it to end, he tosses a few bills onto the mattress, you don't even flinch. Your mind had already escaped.

Robert leans in, caging your body with his arms, "Why don't I keep you as my little plaything, hm?" he knows you've recently graduated. But what use was a degree compared to what he could give? What greater reward than being his pretty little housewife? You might as well put those looks to use. He plants a kiss against your lips, humming in satisfaction, "Need a good girl to balance me out..." he begins to rant, "And if you ever think of leaving me, I'll send a video of us fucking to your parents,"

But the thing is, you never told him who your parents were. It was then when the pieces began to fall into place. How could you be so stupid? His username was R-Morrow.

This was no other than the owner of Fischer Morrow, the man responsible for your landing parents in deep debt. Of course they trusted him, because he's your childhood friend. You lift yourself up and face him. Your voice in disbelief when you question the identity of the strange man, now with a tearful look, "R-Robbie?" you whisper. He pauses for a moment, head turning to the side as he looks your way, "Did you miss me?"

"...Why? I-I don't understand..." you began hyperventilating. This wasn't happening. Your childhood friend had taken your virginity. At one point, he was your entire world. He approaches you, no longer a lanky young boy but a man. He cups your face, pressing his forehead against yours. He sighs, "Don't you remember the promise we made? To find each other?" his eyes bore into yours, "I could only dream of it, but now?" he wraps his arms around you, holding you close to him, "Now you're finally mine..."

[theorphicangel]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬. | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Tags: enemies to lovers, college au, smut, 18+, slow burn,

synopsis: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single, brooding man in possession of a good future in genetics, must be in want of a girlfriend.

Or at least a fake one to get his family off his back.

(college au & fake dating trope ft my favourite grumpy man who doesn't fall first but ends up falling harder. ouch.)

Chapter two: low expectations.

taglist: @oharasfilipinawife @palesatan @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @amelialysm @crimin4llyins4ne

A/N: sorry for the late update, but imma catch you guys up 🫡

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Over the next few days you manage to get your pre-reading all done and dusted.

You can’t help but already feel exhausted by the amount of things that you have to juggle at university.

Just as soon as you were completed with one task, you groaned at the thought of your long list of remaining errands. Bills, assignments, grocery shopping and your shifts at the cafe were all piled on top of you constantly, not to mention your attempt to attend your lectures and classes, double checking that they were the right ones.

But the most stressful by far was trying to avoid your mother’s calls, which occurs at least twice a day. As of recently, you had thought that you were safe, coming up with excuses left, right and center.

At least that was before you had seen a missed call from your dad this morning.

That’s how you know that you’re really in the shits.

You’re gonna have to come up with something. And in quick timing.

But for now, you’re going to have to sideline your personal dilemmas.

With your new job at the cafe, you have no choice but to remain consistent with your routine, that is of course, if you want your new job to last.

After weeks of rejection or rather, the lack of replies, you had managed to secure a job at your roommate’s favorite cafe spot.

And by secure you mean that you had sort of lied about having experience in a cafe previously.

You didn’t entirely lie…just exaggerated the truth a little bit.

This was one of the only jobs that had replied to you out of a whole stockpile and you weren’t going to let it go to waste. Not under any circumstances.

You did have the experience of watching and observing what your classmate did at her family owned cafe whilst you were on the till for a few minutes.

But nonetheless, what’s so hard about making coffee? Anyone can do this shit. It’s okay if you’re learning on the job, doesn’t everyone? Currently, you succeed in trying to rotate between keeping track of orders and making drinks as well as trying not to get in MJ’s way too much.

But you were handling it to the best of your abilities. Even if that did mean messing up a few of your customers' orders every once in a while. MJ had said nothing about it so far which means that you're in the green light.

For now.

“You really should be getting some sleep, don’t let your first year knock you out before midterms.” She acknowledges, elbowing you slightly.

“I kno–” you barely finish your sentence, another yawn coming out of nowhere.

“See?” She hums, finishing off an order for the previous customer. “You need some beauty sleep.”

She’s referring to your bruised under eye bags that have started to appear. Ultimately, the results of you staying up till midnight yesterday to finish off an assignment. You had only managed to get a few hours of sleep before waking up in time for your 6am shift.

“I also need money, but we can’t have it all can we MJ?” you note, keeping your tone light before you move on to serve another customer.

You’ve only been on shift for a couple of hours but you think you’re coping well so far. MJ forewarned you about the morning lecture rush hour. You guessed that it was soon by glancing at the old clock hung up on the wall, indicating that it was just after 8:30 am. Students continued to spill in and out of the cafe, the bell above the front door continuously ringing in your ears.

A small line had begun to queue up and you swiftly moved through them with ease. As your next customer came up to the counter, your face lit up at the sight of a familiar face.

“Oh hey stranger–” you begin, recognising the same grueling face that you had seen last week bore into you. But you barely get a chance to finish your sentences before he cuts you off sharply.

“Coffee. Black.”

Your mouth forms an ‘o’ as you tap his order into the machine, immediately sensing his disgruntled aura. By the expression on his face, you can tell that he doesn’t seem up for teasing.

He seems…frustrated? Or maybe even upset?

“Name?”

“Miguel.���

You can’t tell whether he’s cranky because it’s 8am in the morning or rather that you failed to notice this the last time you saw him. Either way, it makes you a little dazed. Perhaps he wasn’t a morning person. You understood that because you were the complete same. Taking his name, you brush him off instead hoping that your coffee will cheer him up.

You inform him of the price and he swipes his card without a second glance. He leaves to take a seat in one of the corners of the cafe which just so happens to be the only part of the cafe that wasn’t so overwhelmed with customers.

It’s not long before you head over there yourself with his order.

“Here’s your black coffee.” you say, setting it down in front of him. Hastily, you’re about to run off to prepare your next order before his words stop you.

“I ordered a black coffee. Not a latte.”

You turn around abruptly, realizing your full mistake. “Oh shit, I’m sorry—”

“Are you new here or just incapable of making a simple cup of black coffee?” Miguel interrupts, his tone laced with vexation.

“Who do you think you’re–”

Your outrage comes to a halt by the sound of your name being called by MJ. You glance over your shoulder and notice her point towards an ever growing queue of customers. Shit, you don’t have time to cuss him out.

Taking a deep breath, you make the decision to be the bigger person, after all it’s like what your manager Steve said…

‘ The customer is always right.’

“I’ll bring it over for you, m’sorry.” you apologize again, rubbing at your forehead, suddenly overwhelmed with the pressure. With sweat beading at your brows, you look over to see a small queue beginning in front of the till again.

MJ throws you a hurried glance, a look which you know means ‘hurry the fuck up and make these orders.’

You end up taking longer than five minutes to return back to him, run ragged with the new orders of coffees, teas, lattes, macchiatos and hot chocolates that continue to pile up.

“Here you go, sorry about that.” You place his new and correct drink in front of him.

“No worries.”

You’re almost taken aback by his response. First he snaps at you and now he’s telling you not to worry about it? God, he was so confusing.

“Enjoy.”

You think that you hear a mutter of ‘thanks’ leave his mouth but you don’t turn back to hear his words clearly. Yet… you can’t exactly keep away.

For some reason your brain keeps lingering towards a burning question which has rattled your mind all through the past week. Giving in to your temptations, you end up turning around and prompt Miguel with another question.

“How did you know ‘Pride and Prejudice’ was set in the 19th century?”

“Huh?” He glances up from his phone, his thumb paused in his mindless scrolling.

“Last time, when I saw you in the library. You knew it was set in the 19th century.”

“I didn’t.'' Miguel huffs, and your eyes can help but notice the size of his biceps. You estimate that they’re bigger than your fucking hands. “It was an estimated guess.”

“Really? You don’t seem too-”

“Listen.” Miguel quips, his sharp tone suddenly returning, causing your voice to trail off midway through your sentence. His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose as he speaks. “I’m going to try and say this in the nicest way possible, but I’m really not in the mood for some crap about your literature degree, okay? I really couldn’t care less.”

Ouch.

Your expression drops and you’re immediately aware of the distance between the two of you.

He’s right. You barely know him. He’s just a guy who just so happened to be there at one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. “Right, sorry.”

You’re about to leave his table before he stops you…again.

“Y’know I ought to tell your manager that you messed up my order.” Miguel begins, continuing to scroll on his phone, not bothering to even look up at you. “This is a very reputable cafe and if you start slacking on the job then…”

“Then what?” You question. “Are you trying to threaten me with a bad review?”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say threaten is the right word but…now that you say that perhaps I should write one.”

Your stomach drops at his words. “Oh, you fucking wouldn’t.”

He smirks, still peering down at his phone. “Maybe I would.”

“Bet.”

“Don’t start betting on things that you’ll end up regretting, nena.”

Your brow raises at his phrase which you don’t entirely understand but you really don’t have time to question it. Your patience is running out as well as your time to get back on track with the orders.

As you walk away from his table, his words seem to settle into your skin.

He wouldn’t? Would he? No… he hasn’t got the balls to. What kind of person has that amount of free time on their hands to write a bad review? At least he had gotten his coffee in the end, you were in your right mind not to spill it all over him on purpose.

“He’s a dick, he’s a dick, he’s a total dick.” You mutter under your breath, making your way back to your station. But you should’ve guessed that from your conversation with him in the library, recalling his mocking tone of your embarrassment.

You should’ve kept your expectations low if you ever thought that you were going to be friends with him.

“What did you say?” MJ queries, hearing your mumbles as you join her.

You nod towards Miguel, still sitting in the far corner scrolling mindlessly on his phone.

“He’s an evil, brooding…” You fail to think of an appropriate ending.

“Dick?” MJ ends.

“Correct.” you say. You promise to yourself that from this moment onwards you are refraining from looking over at that corner.

You find that time passes quickly during your shift and once the rush hour of students finally dies down, you and MJ get the chance to finally take a break.

“Fucking hell, I never want to do that again.” She murmurs wiping down the surfaces near the coffee machines for any spilt substances.

“Ditto that.” you murmur, grabbing a cloth to wipe down some empty tables.

Learning that MJ was a performing arts student made you more than happy to get along well with her. She was in her second year, yet in a sea of sickening STEM students here you had real proof that you weren’t the only humanities student.

Take that Miguel.

/

Currently eating dinner alone in your apartment, you reminisce on your day in silence, your roommate out at her weekly computer coding club. You think that it was safe to say that it was a good day today, despite all the stresses at work.

Speaking of work, you recall the conversation from this morning.

You don’t want to give this Miguel guy too much credit but you’d be lying if you said that his threat earlier didn’t scare the shit out of you for the remainder of your day.

Even MJ had to ask if you were alright when it got to the end of your shift and you had brushed it off, blaming it on your exhaustion.

He was totally bluffing….right? I mean, he doesn’t even know you.

You bite down on your metallic fork, anxiety rapidly filling you within.

No, you can’t help it. You have to check.

Chewing on your fingernails, you type in the name of the cafe that you work out and head over to the reviews section on Google.

Scrolling down to find the latest reviews, your stomach practically drops at one comment, under the simple username of: @miguelohara20.

‘New barista lacked the ability to do her job. Couldn’t pay attention to even get my order right. Talks way too much unprovoked, to the point where you might as well save some money and make the damn coffee yourself.’

The fucking nerve of this guy causes so much anger within you that your fork practically falls from your other hand as you immediately go to text MJ. You send her a screenshot before typing with fury.

- ‘Did you see this? This was that guy that I was complaining about earlier: the rude, evil, brooding STEM one.’

Sent: 7:34pm

It’s not long before you receive a reply from MJ and it’s one that makes your stomach drop.

- ‘Yeah I did :/ Steve texted me about it actually.

Received: 7:36pm

MJ sends through another text, a few seconds later.

- ‘He wants a meeting with you on ‘customer etiquette’ !!

Received 7:36pm

Dropping your phone on the table, you let out a groan, holding your head in your hands. Now, this day went from ‘good’ to being the second worst day of your life, now with your job on the line.

Yeah…you think you fucking hate Miguel now.

reblogs are much appreciated!

lmk if you would like to join the taglist!

[groenendaelfic]

Hey,

haven't seen you around a lot lately. Just writing to check in. how is it going? Wish you a nice evening

it is going, thank you for asking!

Life has been very busy these past few months but is moving in a hopefully good and definitely exciting direction.

In this particular order (if memory serves correctly) I've:

decided to move halfway across the continent

marked the one year anniversary of the worst time of my life

had other people mark the one year anniversary of the worst time of my life with all that entails

quit my job (I'd been planning that for a while)

had my boss and hr offer to let me go instead and half my notice period to two months (aka 'give' me more money and facilitate my move, yay pity)

started looking for a place to live and organizing my move

found a new job in a slightly different corner of halfway across the continent (I start July 1st)

got my request for citizenship approved (epic timing guys)

found a place to live in an awesome area (I will be able to do all my errands on foot and my new job is only a short bike ride away)

told everyone I was leaving for sure

signed the paperwork to have my uncle in law take over the place here

had my cousin offer to move my stuff with his remodeled fire engine in exchange for gas and (bridge) tolls

did all the paperwork in the universe ever

started saying my goodbyes for now (I still have lots of family and friends etc here so I'll be back a lot)

had my cousin tell me he'd make a bro trip out of the move because his friends really wanted to see a basic bridge, and room and board plus no girls was all the compensation they needed for getting to carry my boxes

said thanks but no thanks to citizenship (sorry Wille, you'll always be my King)

was asked if I minded the move taking a bit longer because the guys wanted to stop for totally unplanned soccer (a not insignificant part of their motivation if not a deciding factor I dare say)

did more move and job leaving planning and paperwork

welcomed, fed and watered a bunch of guys really into soccer bridges and very disappointed I didn't have more boxes they could compete carrying

prepared a big lunch basket and said goodbye to said guys and my boxes

sat down to write this list wondering where I should celebrate midsummer (aka do I want to travel back and forth to get everything ready or stay until it's time to hand in my work laptop etc)

Phew, yes. Also a million other things which won't come to mind right now. Thank you to everyone who left me such kind messages btw. I appreciate them so much but am still learning to respond to kindness and compliments without awkwardness. They nevertheless give me life.

In more interesting news to everyone here I've also done a lot of writing.

Mostly on One Wild Summer, which has already grown into a monster, but I've been writing the exciting parts later on and still guesstimate a 15k or so stretch which needs bridging to get to all the fun stuff I've already written.

but also on The Prince and the Barista and As Long as We Have Each Other. I only need to make it coherent and once again fill the gap to where I stopped posting.

plus *cue exasperated sighs* I'm also 9k+ into a new fic! The (once more) absolutely most self-indulgent thing I've ever written in this fandom and something I swore I never would turn into a proper fic. Expect the prologue for that (which was meant to be 500 words and not 5k) soonish.

Everything else including regular updates not before mid to late July though I think. Because moving and starting a new job and life means busy times and while I can write scribble down connected sentences with half a mind, I can't beta read and edit with half a mind.

tl;dr: I am still writing yr fic and haven't abandoned my fics, but am also busy moving. goodbye cloudberries and lingonberries, hello wineberries vineyards and appleberries apple orchards.

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Cooking Up Love, Chapter 8

Pairing: Chef!Matt Murdock x F!Journalist!Reader

Rating: T

Story Summary: Here 

Warnings/Tags: Hallmark levels of fluffy, cheesy goodness (and speed that their relationship develops, lol), no use of Y/N, Matt is not a vigilante, idiots in love, love confessions (but not to each other 🫠)

Word Count: ~2650

A/N: Short little filler chapter here to move the plot along, but next up is the big "recipe testing" dinner!

Thanks as always to @theradioactivespidergwen for the divider!

Tag List: @yarrystyleeza @hailey-murdock @mattkinsella @bellaxgiornata @danzer8705 @chezagnes @shouldbestudying41 @thepunisherfrankcastle @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment

"So? How was it?" Skyler said as soon as she saw you in the staff break room the next morning.

You laughed and shook your head. "Can I at least make some coffee before you start interrogating me about my brunch?"

"Oh, I already took care of that." Skyler turned and handed you a to-go cup from your favorite coffee shop near the office. "I know how much you hate Monday morning staff meetings and figured I'd get something for you while I was getting my own coffee."

You took a sip and sighed blissfully. "You are an angel, you know that? I owe you one."

Skyler took a sip of her own beverage. "So spill, girl, spill! How was Chef Hottie's cake?"

You shook your head with a grin. "Ok well first off, it's Chef Matt , and secondly, his crepes were excellent once again, as was the omelet I ordered. You really should check the restaurant out for Sunday brunch at the very least, although I'm sure their dinner menu is amazing too."

Skyler took another sip of her coffee as you walked into the conference room together and sat. "How was the rest of your day? Hopefully you did something more exciting than watching a bunch of senior citizens play bingo."

You nodded, smiling to yourself as you thought about your afternoon and evening with Matt. "Actually, yeah. Matt invited me along on his after-work errands yesterday afternoon so I could observe him outside of the kitchen."

"Ooh, so you got to spend the whole afternoon with him? Lucky. So what did you two do together?"

"He volunteers to cook for the soup kitchen at Clinton Church on Sundays after the restaurant closes, so I helped him out with that, then I watched him work out at the gym for a bit, then he asked me if I wanted to have dinner with him."

Skyler's eyes grew wide. "He asked you out on a date ? Way to bury the lede!"

You shook your head. "No, not a date , he just invited me to have dinner with him at his apartment as a thank-you for helping him out at the church, that's all."

"You went to his apartment? " 

You opened your mouth to tell her that it wasn't a big deal but was interrupted by Ellison walking into the conference room. "Okay, let's get this show on the road," he said. "First order of business: Kelsie, welcome back. Glad to see you're feeling better."

You glanced over at Kelsie, who was sulking at the other end of the table.

Ellison looked at his notes. "Okay, so assignment updates! Skyler, how was the fundraiser for the senior center?"

"Great," Skyler replied. "I sent you my article last night."

"Okay, good. Mark, what's going on in sports this week?"

Mark, who wrote the sports column, sat up in his chair. "I've got an interview with Coach Calhoun on Wednesday and Coach Dempsey on Thursday, so the article about the big rivalry between PS 114 and PS 118 will be ready to go for Friday's edition."

"Excellent." Ellison said your name. "How's the Restaurant Week feature coming?"

"It's coming along great," you replied. "Chef Murdock has been really open and cooperative, so it'll be no problem getting that article to you by EoD Wednesday."

Ellison nodded. "Fantastic. Okay, new assignments. Skyler, you're covering the music festival this weekend. They'll have a press pass for you at the gate. Kelsie, since we switched up the Restaurant Week feature you're now going to be handling the daily report on what each participating restaurant is featuring. Everyone else, you know your assignments. Let's get to it."

You stood and picked up your cup of coffee.

"Not enough to steal the Features position out from under me, was it?" you heard Kelsie say from behind you. "Now you're going after the lead story for Restaurant Week too."

You turned and raised an eyebrow. There had been a (one-sided, in your opinion) rivalry between you and Kelsie ever since you and she had both been up for the Features position six months earlier. "Oh damn, you caught me. I made sure that you would get food poisoning just so I could swoop in and steal the Restaurant Week feature when I know nothing about the culinary industry and had never met Chef Murdock until a few days ago after the article was assigned to me. And as for the Features position, I won that promotion fair and square. It's not my fault that my article was better and that you bombed the mock interview, just like you would've tanked this one."

Kelsie scoffed. "Yeah, right. I'm sure he would've been extremely 'cooperative' with anyone interviewing him -- as long as they were female and had a pulse."

You shook your head. "I'll have you know, Chef Murdock has been nothing but professional towards me the entire week."

Kelsie smirked. "Oh didn't you know? Matthew Murdock will do anything -- and any one -- to try to salvage his reputation, so there must be a reason if he's not hitting on you."

Before you could respond she turned and flounced out of the conference room.

"What a bitch," Skyler muttered under her breath.

You shook your head. "I'm not worried about her. Ellison knows what I'm capable of."

Skyler sighed. "Anyway, I want to hear all about your not-date with Chef Hottie. Lunch later?"

You nodded. "Sure."

"Great. I'll swing by your desk around 11:30."

"Okay."

You went back to your desk, dutifully ignoring the daggers Kelsie was continuing to shoot your way, and worked on your other tasks until it was time for lunch.

You looked up as Skyler stopped by, purse in hand. "Ready?"

You nodded. "Yeah, let's go."

The two of you walked down the street to your favorite food truck. 

"Okay, so tell me everything ," Skyler said once the two of you sat down at a nearby table with your food. "Like how you went from going to Daredevil for brunch to a private dinner with the chef."

"There's not much to tell," you replied with a light laugh. "But okay."

You took a breath. "I had told Matt on Saturday that I was planning on coming back to Daredevil for Sunday brunch because the crepes he had made during the cooking demo he did for me were really good, so he told me to get his staff to let him know that I was there and he'd come say hi."

A small smirk graced Skyler's face. "So he was willing to drop everything in order to come talk to you, got it."

You shook your head. "He wound up bringing my order out to me, so while we were talking he asked me if I would be interested in seeing how he develops his recipes so I agreed to stop by Daredevil tonight after work for another cooking demo. Then he asked me if I wouldn't mind accompanying him on his after-work errands since he thought that it would be beneficial to my article for me to spend some time with him outside of the kitchen."

Skyler huffed out a laugh. "Right, beneficial to your article, sure."

You smiled and shook your head. "We went by Clinton Church first to cook for the soup kitchen--"

Skyler held up a finger. "Wait a second. So he asked you to spend the afternoon with him out of the kitchen, then brought you to a different kitchen to watch him cook?"

You shrugged. "I didn't mind. He usually cooks at Daredevil and just brings everything over to the church, but he asked me if I wouldn't mind coming over early and he'd just do his cooking for the church over there instead."

Skyler raised an eyebrow. "Mmhmm, so he could spend even more time with you."

" Anyway, after we finished up at the church we headed to his gym since he frequently goes after service to unwind."

Skyler grinned. "Ooh, so you got to see him all sweaty?"

You nodded. "The arms on that man, let me tell you…"

"And the ass." Skyler did a chef's kiss. "You can't tell me you didn't check out his ass."

Your face heated. "Well… maybe a bit."

Skyler gasped. "You did! I knew you were interested in him!"

You groaned. "He's so handsome and sweet and funny and genuine, not to mention an incredible chef… but I'm writing a story about him for the paper, it's completely unethical for me to be thirsting after him -- even though it's absolutely unfair how good he looks in a tank top and a pair of sweatpants."

Skyler shook her head. "Your story's due, when, Wednesday? After that you won't have to worry about journalistic integrity or whatever's stopping you from jumping his bones. So how'd you wind up going home with him?"

You wrinkled your nose. "Don't say it like that, you make it sound so… clandestine ."

Skyler rolled her eyes playfully. "Okay, fine. Having dinner, happy?"

You chuckled. "Yes. After he was done at the gym I asked him where to next and he said that was all he had left to do so I said okay and that I'd see him later, but then he asked if I'd like to have dinner with him as a thank-you for helping him out at the soup kitchen. I agreed, so we stopped by his plot at the Clinton Community Garden to pick some fresh basil then headed to his apartment."

Skyler waved a hand at you to go on. "Where you…"

You shrugged. "Where I drank some wine and ate some delicious carbonara, then sat and talked with Matt for a bit on his sofa before I went home."

Skyler's eyebrows raised. "Wait, you were serious? Nothing happened between you two?"

You shook your head. "I mean we hugged before I left, but that was it."

Skyler shook her head with a sigh. "Girl, if you can't see what's going on…"

Your brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"He's clearly interested."

"What? No he's not."

"Oh come on. He invited you to his apartment for dinner."

"As a thank-you, I told you that."

Skyler took a sip of her drink. "I'm telling you, girl, the man is into you! He's probably holding back because he thinks you're not interested."

You shook your head and stood. "Come on, we need to get back. I'm sure Kelsie is looking for any excuse to report us to Ellison."

Skyler groaned then stood as well. "Yeah, you're right. But I am too, and you know it!"

You threw your trash away and started back towards the office, your mind racing.

Skyler had to be mistaken. Matt couldn't actually be interested in you… could he?

Matt grinned to himself as he headed towards Clinton Church. He had spent the morning finalizing his plans for your "recipe tasting" dinner and was eager to get started on prep, but he needed to pick up his supplies from the church's activity center first. 

Father Lantom had left him a voicemail that morning saying how appreciative everyone had been of the hot meal and how nice it had been to meet you. 

Matt's mind drifted back to the previous day. While you obviously wasn't as quick and skilled in the kitchen as he was, Matt had still been touched by your willingness to help out however you could, even if it meant doing menial tasks such as slicing up tomatoes and cucumbers and dividing salad dressing into servings. 

God , he had wanted to kiss you when your fingers had brushed against his while you were handing him his measuring cups, then again when you had hugged him at Fogwell's after he had told you about his dad, then again in his apartment when you two stood listening to the rain by his window, then again when you were getting ready to leave…

He sighed. Hopefully everything went according to plan tonight.

He stepped into the office at Clinton Church. 

"Matthew, hello," Sister Maggie, one of the nuns from the adjoining convent, said.

"Hi," Matt replied. "I'm here to pick up my culinary supplies from the activity center." 

"Oh, yes. Father Lantom did say that you'd be dropping by to pick up your things." Sister Maggie took a set of keys out of a drawer. "He's out on an errand at the moment, but I can let you in."

"Great, thanks."

He followed her out to the activity center.

Sister Maggie unlocked the door. "How is the restaurant doing?"

Matt shrugged. "It's… surviving so far. We're not doing nearly as well as I'd hoped we'd be by now but I'm hoping that the article that's going to be in the Bulletin next week will help drum up some business."

"Oh, the restaurant is being featured in the Bulletin? That's wonderful."

Matt shook his head. "Moreso me than the restaurant, but yeah. We're going to be on the front page of the Restaurant Week kickoff edition."

He paused, smiling softly as he thought about you. "Actually the reporter from the Bulletin who's doing the story on me was here with me yesterday."

Sister Maggie hummed. "Oh, yes, Father Lantom did say a young woman was assisting you, but he was under the impression that you two were seeing each other."

Matt shook his head. "What? No, we've only known each other for a few days, although…"

He sighed. "There's something about her that… I don't know, she makes me feel comfortable around her. She's kind, and gentle, and caring…" And beautiful. I have no idea what she looks like, but I know she's beautiful. 

Sister Maggie hummed. "She sounds lovely."

"She really is."

"What's her name?"

Matt smiled as he said your name.

Sister Maggie gave a hum of recognition. "Oh, yes, she's the one who does all of those lovely human interest stories, right? I do enjoy reading those each week."

Matt nodded. "Right."

He bit his lip. "I wanted her to get to know me outside of the kitchen -- for her story, of course -- so I, uh, I took her to Fogwell's after we left here yesterday and wound up telling her about Dad. She already knew about his murder -- she had done some research before our interview -- but I told her about growing up with him and how he always encouraged me to get an education."

Sister Maggie reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go. "Your father was a good man, you know."

Matt nodded. "I know."

She sighed. "I know I haven't always been there for you in the ways you've needed me, Matthew, but for what it's worth, I'm really proud of you."

Matt nodded. "Thanks… Mom."

"So what are you going to do?"

Matt furrowed his brow. "About?"

Sister Maggie said your name. "She's not seeing anyone, is she?"

Matt shook his head. "I don't think so. At least, she hasn't mentioned anything in that regard."

He gestured towards the kitchen. "She's actually coming by the restaurant tonight to taste-test some new recipes for me, so I better get going so I can get started on everything."

He headed into the kitchen to get his cart.

Sister Maggie gave him a hug as he came back out. "Goodbye, Matthew."

Matt hugged her back. "Bye."

He headed towards Daredevil, his mind swirling. He knew you were attracted to him -- at least physically -- but there had been something holding you back. Could you be seeing someone?

Matt had assumed you were single based on your availability over the weekend, but just because you were available didn't mean you were available. 

He shook his head. He remembered overheating your conversation with that other reporter who had greeted him the day he had brought tiramisu to the Bulletin, during which you had said that you didn't have a boyfriend.

…So then what was it?

[1lenii]

Hiii! im knew to your blog but reading the Miles headcanons I couldnt help but add to the Miles G. agenda 😏 Cause just imagine riding his bike or driving around with Miles around Brooklyn with Chase Atlantic blasting in the background.

BikeRide

Miles G x Afro!Latina!Reader

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

║ily for this ty anon, AND WELCOME! So as you already know pick your favorite chase Atlantic song and start your read!! This also remind me to update the all about me section🧍🏽‍♀️

║if you don’t have one already I recommend Molly cause idk there’s something abt it<3

║WITHOUT FURTHER ADO ENJOY

║once again no proofread (as always🏃🏽‍♀️) and check out the master-list (in the process of updating!)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

MOTORCYCLE

Miles has built in speaker.. I kid you not he asked uncle Aaron about it and yk he had to deliver

Miles literally brings it with where ever he goes meaning the bike if going inside the house🧍🏽‍♀️

As for driving around on he will not hesitate to do the most, either going over the speed limit or doing so other nonsensical road act like cutting car off

Miles would hesitantly teach you how to drive if your interested but do not I repeat DO NOT touch the glove compartment (my people have motorcycle with glove compartments BARE WITH ME)

Miles definitely invites you on late night rides, it’s 10:27pm and you know there still people out and before ya head out he connect his phone to the speaker and you already know what’s blasting, he helps you get on the back positioning your arms so you don’t fall helmet intact and ya already zooming off

Random people nearby:

So uh you doing anything later? Cause I was thinking -youandicouldgotoanewresturantaroundthecronerandgettonknow-eachother

I’m sorry what was that?

Miles litterally ruined this man’s ask out and didn’t even know it LMAO

Miles does get butterflies, lemme tell youuuuuu

When he speeds up he feels you tighten around him, and head going and digging into his back, instant butterflies! Idc idc

CAR

Miles and his car, the car you and his mom planned on getting him cause he couldn’t always b going on a motorbike, like he was restricted to going through drive throughs AND ITS NOT CONVENIENT FOR HIGHWAYS..

Either way miles thanked ya both meaning again late night errand or random drive outs

Same thing with the music it’s blastingggg windows downnnnn and ofc random people turning they heads to see where said music is coming from

Now as for who gets giddy and gets butterflies?

THATS YOU OFC

Cmon now miles really about to give you passenger princess treatment,

Hand on thigh

“What you want ma”

*she wanted to order meme* miles would do it too🧍🏽‍♀️

And Vice versa

Miles would not hesitate to teach you how to drive and his anything you drive his car and he takes his bike

Consider it your car from the lack of use miles puts on it LMAO

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[stuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu]

happy to see you writing again, there’s a severe lack of vinnyskinny on here. could you do one with the word mate or bond?

Sorry that this took a moment lovely Anon!! You don’t even know how excited this prompt made me!! I hope that you enjoy!! :)

I did put this into a similar verse as my own little fic with these two lol

.-.-.-.-.-.

Vincent had been acting weird. That’s the only thing Stuart was sure of at the moment. He had been acting weird for weeks now honestly, but it had only become really noticeable the last couple days, all cultivating into today.

They were hanging out less and less. They were busy, they all were of course, but they normally always managed to find time to spend together. It was probably nothing and would end up being fine, but it still irked him slightly.

It was an off day for them, no practice, no game, just time to relax. He had wanted to spend the day with Vincent, lazing on the couch and watching a couple movies on their watch list, maybe try and cook dinner together, get up to some other things, whatever floated their boat.

So he had been surprised when Connor had asked him to come over to hang out. He had nothing against Connor, and considered the two of them to be great friends, he had just assumed that the other man would rather spend time with Leon.

He had almost turned Connor down, but then Vincent had encouraged him to go and have fun, claiming that he wanted to come with but that he had ‘errands’ that he had to run.

That had made Stuart a little suspicious, since Vincent hadn’t mentioned having to do anything today, but he decided not to press, even if he was a little hurt. He had wanted to hang out with Vincent, his boyfriend, but he guessed they could always hang out a different time.

At least Vincent drove him to Connor’s, so they had some time just talk and joke around. Before he had gotten out of the car, Vincent had stopped him, asking him to send updates every once in a while. The request wasn’t anything strange or out of the ordinary for them, so Stuart hadn’t even batted an eye while agreeing, pressing a kiss to the side of Vincent’s face and telling him that he would see him later.

But that had been hours ago, and although he had been sending texts to Vincent, keeping him updated like he had asked, the other man hadn’t responded to a single one. He didn’t need a whole paragraph or anything like that, hell, he didn’t even need a sentence, but a thumbs up or smiley face wouldn’t have killed anybody, especially when he was able to boast about being undefeated in Mario Kart against Connor by the end of it.

Connor shot him a look from where he was sitting after Stuart checked his phone for what had to be the millionth time that hour. “Everything all right?”

“Hmm?” Stuart turned to him, having not been paying attention since he had been scrolling through his text thread with Vincent, feeling a lump form in his stomach slightly.

“You seem to be worried about something.” Leon chimed in from where he was scrolling on his phone, sitting right next to Connor. He and Connor had tried their best to get Leon to join them in their little impromptu Mario Kart game, but the man had vehemently disagreed. The two of them weren’t particularly surprised by his answer, but still slightly disappointed nonetheless.

“It’s nothing too important. Vinny just hasn’t responded to any of my texts, nothing major. I know that he’s been busy, we all are, but it feels like he’s been busy for weeks now, I don’t know.” Stuart blew out a breath as he sunk into the couch more, trying not to feel too dejected.

He heard Leon let out a long suffering sigh, and then watched as the other man got up, rummaging around for something before holding up another controller, taking a seat next to Connor again.

“Whatever, I guess I’ll play a couple rounds, not like it’ll kill me.” Stuart and Connor shared a look with an each other, laughing slightly at the other man, who simply gave them a disparaging look.

Playing with Connor had been fun, but the three of them competing had been a blast, so much so that he barely noticed as the time passed by, until there was a knock on the door.

They paused the race, and Stuart looked down to his phone to see that Vincent had texted him, simply stating that he was there. He bid farewell to Connor and Leon, making sure to rub in the fact that he was the undisputed champion from their little game.

He closed the door behind him, and was a little surprised to see Vincent standing there, waiting for him, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

“What are these for?” He asked, gently taking them from Vincent when he held them out, a blush making its way onto his face.

“If I told you, then it would ruin the surprise.” Vincent said, a smile on his face. He took Stuart’s hand in his own, leading him to where the car was parked and helped him in.

The entire ride him was full of chatter, Stuart talking about that he had done while he was hanging out with Connor and Vincent refusing to give any hints to what he had gotten up to all day.

When they finally arrived home, Stuart could almost feel the nerves radiating from Vincent.

When he finally entered the house, he noticed that all of the lights were off, instead multiple candles having been lit to light the house. And it smelled good, it smelled really really good.

He followed what seemed to be a trail of candles to the dining room, but found that it was empty. He turned around to see Vincent behind him, holding out a box.

“What-? What is this?” Stuart asked, taking the box with shaking hands. Opening it, he could’ve sworn that all of the breath was knocked out of him.

Inside of the box was a thin silver chain, one that was normally given by one partner to the other when they planned on bonding. He felt his hands tremble as he gently picked it up to examine it.

“Are you- are you serious? If you’re joking, I swear to god-”

“I’m not joking, I swear!” Vincent laughed out, sounding suspiciously choked up. “Ever since we started courting, I’ve wanted to bond with you.” Vincent walked up to Stuart, gently taking the chain, undoing the clasp and gently putting it on Stuart, doing the clasp again and watching the beta preen at the feeling of the chain on his skin.

“Oh Vincent, I would love nothing more than to get bonded with you.” Stuart said, a blush high on his cheeks, still so shocked at what was happening.

He and Vincent were going to get bonded.

[wthtorke]

Abyss (Pt. 2)

Kjuhte won the voting on my Patreon last month so I wrote a second part to his story!

(Part 1)

Healing from your wounds was the easiest part of life on the ship. The training was hard, socializing was worse, and keeping up with everything seemed downright impossible. 

You had things to do while you didn't have a stable job. You mopped floors, took out endless amounts of trash, helped in the kitchens, served people, helped in lab cleaning, and ran just about any errand asked of you.

While you didn't have a degree in anything, the Interspecies program offered numerous courses for anyone with the will to do them. They were not college degrees, but stagnating wasn't something you wanted. Free time was a tight spot, but you took nearly all of the 'short - medium' term ones, hoping if you took enough of them, a door would open somewhere in the ship for you.

You were dead set on getting a permanent job, and while there were geniuses among your people, you weren't one of them. Not that you weren't smart and capable, but neurosurgery and advanced piloting weren't on your resume, so to say.

You stared at your datapad back in your cramped quarters, sitting on your dingy bunkbed while another three humans snored away in their bunks around you. "Human job opportunity applications" flashed in blue, with a yautja transcript under it that you guessed was a translation of the title. You scrolled through the listings trying to imagine yourself in any of them, trying to find one you could get with your current skills.

Junior Engineering (Lower deck engines)

Messenger (Cockpit crew)

Messenger (Engineering crew)

Docking operator 

Cook (Upper kitchen)

Server (Upper kitchen)

 Supply stocking

Supply distribution

Nurse 

Housekeeping (Upper human housing ward)

Medical assistant

Medical assistant? 

Y ou frowned, then hummed, clicking the tab.

Job Duties -

Schedule appointments

Obtain blood samples

Perform data entry and update

Measure and record vital signs

Sterilize exam rooms when needed

Job Requirements -

Must be of age - 21 human | 120 Yautja

Detail oriented 

Must have completed all basic through advanced first aid Interspecies courses

Understanding of lab sampling and handling

Understanding of basic yautja culture                                   

                                                                 (1/2)

You fumbled for your course's certifications, reading back and forth to see if you had missed any mandatory requirements, double-checking everything before becoming hopeful.

Filling out the application was the easiest part. You signed the terms and uploaded your course certificates and your resume. You winced before quickly hitting 'send' and shutting the datapad off, throwing it away from your lap like it'd bite you, and going to bed right after.

You worked the next day, going back and forth between the numerous tasks and errands they asked of you when, in the middle of your 'shift', your human wrist gauntlet went completely silent. You sat in a quiet corner near the lower living quarters, munching away at a sandwich as you stared at it. Did it break? You usually had a list of tasks- even if you hadn't completed the one you had at hand yet, they were assigned automatically. 

You frown and take another bite of your sandwich, looking quizzically at it like it could give you answers before a single beep had you looking back at your wrist.

'Log change_...     New Worker Assignment: Med bay.'

Med bay? 

MED BAY! 

Another beep.

'Current Job Title: Medical Assistant - Location: Yautja ward.  Supervisor: -' 

"What?" You said, mouth half-full. "Yautja ward? But-" You frowned, "But it said it was a human job?"

'Instructions: Seek the head nurse in the Yautja ward_.'

You jumped up from your spot, eating the rest of your lunch as you jogged to the nearest elevator, briefly checking your teeth on its shiny panels before making your way to the med bay. 

It was the first time you set foot in the hospital without an injury, and for once, it felt nice. The hospitals were spotless, bustling with nurses, doctors, and patients. The reception was in the middle, where both humans and yautjas checked their patients in. On top of the reception stood two signs.

Human ward on the left. Yautja ward on the right.

You looked at your gauntlet once more and turned right. Going through the people, you reached the first nurse post, where yautjas worked fast on their systems, people coming and going, grabbing supplies from the post's stock or a datapad to call for a patient. So far, the only humans you saw were maintenance or housekeeping, and one single emergency nurse was going through their patient's medical history to the yautja nurse taking over.

"Excuse me, I need to see the head nurse. I'm the new medical assistant." You say, one of the yautja nurses looks up at you, nodding and looking back at their screen. "Follow through to the end of the corridor, turn left, catch the elevator to the second floor, end of the corridor on the right."

You nod and say your thanks, moving quickly past the busy people and heading to the office you were appointed to. You stand before the open door and peek your head inside, seeing no one. Were you at the right place?

"Behind you."

You jump a bit, turning back, "Oh sorry, I'm here to see the head nu-" You choke on your words as the very doctor from your little musings was standing there, looking rather unimpressed with your gaping. "I- the-, the head nurse-"

"He's busy. I came to retrieve you personally since you are to be my assistant anyway."

What.

"What?"

"You are my assistant. You applied for the job, I chose you. Follow me." He says, already walking down the corridor. You stood there stunned for a few seconds before jogging to catch up with him.

"I-"

"You have a big assortment of certificates under your name. I hope you paid attention to the classes. I will need your experience." He says. You nod. "Yes, sir-, everything is valid." Did people not pay attention to the courses? How could that even happen?

"Good." Kjuhte takes a turn and enters the elevator, you jump in beside him. "I had no idea I was applying to be your-, ah, personal medical assistant, sir-"

"Call me Kjuhte or doctor. Not sir, and specifying that would have left room for choosing and favoritism. Things are to be impartial. No external reasons for acceptance or not."

'I would have applied sooner if I knew it was you, so there’s that.' You think, remembering your first encounter with him, walking down that corridor, and how everything seemed to slow down with his presence. Kjuhte had a hard exterior, cold, even. He had walls up, and so far you didn't know about anyone who ever managed to break them or be on the other side of it. He seemed…lonely; but at peace with that like he wanted it to be that way.

"You are not required to start today, seeing as there was a severe delay in the system and they ringed you in late. However, I'd like to give you a quick run of things, since we have some precious minutes to spare."

His voice made your ears ring. It was deep and almost...velvety. Not what you're used to coming from a Yautja, but certainly not unwelcome, you felt. The way he looked at things also made your hair stand on end like things held secrets from him. Secrets he would find out with his eyes alone. You didn’t doubt he had that ability. You just hoped to God you wouldn’t have to lie to him; those eyes would see right through it.

“Yes sir-, um-, Doctor Kjuhte.”

He nods, “Good. This way.” The elevator door opens, and you realize you’re one floor higher than before, following him out of it. “Your job will be to keep me updated on cases. You will organize and update files; I work day and night, though your shift hours shall remain fixed. The reason for your hiring is the upcoming Chiva season. Surgeries will increase, and I will need all help possible.”

You nod, “I’ll do my best. Is there any particular way you’d like things done?”

“I don’t expect you to do perfectly right away, but I do appreciate and reward effort. First, you’ll do a round of checkups on my current patients, take any samples I might have asked for during the night and get any ready results and bring those to me, and if I’m in surgery, you’ll kindly leave them at my office, which is here.” He presses his gauntlet to a door panel, and you marvel at the inside.

Kjuhte’s office is spacious; the dark walls lit up by yellowed spotlights on the ceiling set a calm mood for the office, so different from the buzzing of people on the floor below you. He had shelves with books, miniatures of bones and skeletons, and some lizard-like specimen poised on wood plaques, a tiny diorama surrounded by collections and collections of books; some human, some yautja, some you had no idea where from.

At the center of the office stood his desk and chair, with two smaller, simpler chairs in front of them. Behind his desk and chair is a glass wall, giving a view of space. He walks to his desk, his black cape following him as he walks. “If I’m not in surgery or checking my patients, I will be here, always.” You nod dumbly, trying so hard not to gape at him. “The datapad with my patient’s files will be here at my desk every morning, in it will be your tasks. I will write your tasks only in the first days. I will not baby you forever.” 

You gulp, “Yes, doctor.”

“Any questions?” 

You shake your head, then consider again, “Well, yes-, will someone else be working like me? Another assistant, maybe?”

He shakes his head, “I only needed you.”

Oh.

“I see.”He turns his back to you, gazing at the stars, closing his hands together on his front as his cape shields the rest of him from you. “You are free to go. Rest and eat properly; your first shift starts tomorrow.” He says; you nod, turning to leave when you hear his voice again. “Assistant?”

“Y-yes?”

His tusks click as he turns his head slightly to acknowledge you again. “You do not answer to anyone in this hospital but me. Understood?”

Your mouth goes dry, “Yes, understood.”

He nods at you, turning back to the stars. 

[100dayproductivity]

8/100.

Ahh! All the 🤬ing things. I'm starting to get overwhelmed again by all the things. I find that I'm using this blog as a way to get my thoughts organized and less overwhelming. What about you? Does blogging help you? Do you have another place you write stuff down to organize your thoughts?

Right. So further to yesterday's exciting job-related events, I did meet with the contact about a job a mutual friend recommended me for. But I won't be taking it. Basically it pays too little for too many hours too far away to make it worth my while. Given my current hourly rate and schedule, it doesn't make sense for me to take the job. So that's that. On the bright side, my resume is all up-to-date and looks pretty fantastic if I do say so myself. And now I know for sure the opportunity was not a good fit for me and not kicking myself with "what-if"s.

Next.

Day before yesterday's to-do list, with updates:

Figure out what healthy and nutritious food I will consume today ✓

So I did manage to make myself a healthy and nutritious meal two days ago, as well as yesterday, but guess what? I need to make myself a healthy and nutritious meal again today. 😮‍💨 For my kid too, actually. So I'll need to get some fresh produce today.

Wash bed cover my cat puked on 😿🤦🏻‍♀️ ✓

I did wash it AND I even put it in the dryer but omg I again forgot all about it. Have not checked if it dried completely. Hopefully it hasn't been sitting damp in the dryer for the past two days 😮‍💨

Do up invoices! ✓

I did this! Even sent them! Now I just need to remember to remind people to remember to pay me 😮‍💨

Deal with dishes. ✓

Did it. Need to do it again today. Rinse. Repeat.

Deposit cheque.

Roll out knots in leg muscle. ✓

Did it. A lot. But still have massive tight knots all up my leg so need to continue doing this.

Pick up paint primer.

So actually, someone has some leftover primer they can give me for free. I sourced it from our local Buy Nothing group. Do you have one of those where you live? It's a Facebook group for neighbours to exchange unwanted items for free. If there isn't one where you live, I highly recommend you consider starting one. It is a fabulous way to give items a second life and keep things out of the landfill. Be part of the solution!

Do Sun Salutation x10

Did not do this. Not even once.

Take inhaler

I remembered to do this! But I've still got stuff in my lungs so should keep this on the list for a while.

Ok, let's update this Bad Boy.

To-do:

Take bed cover out of dryer.

Deposit cheque. ✓

Pick up paint primer. ✓

Pick up produce, bread, milk, butter, sandwich stuff. ✓

Recurring:

Roll out knots in leg muscle.

Do Sun Salutation x10

Take inhaler

Let's do this! 💪

---

Back from errands, I'm so tired and sleepy now. My plantar fasciitis is flaring up too. I've iced it, now applying heat. I feel like just napping 😴 But I've set the timer for 20 minutes, then I need to:

Clean up disaster in kitchen: empty dishwasher, load dishwasher, clear off table.

[pinkchaosstories]

Blood and Thorns - Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Down the Path Together (Read Chapter 1 (part one) here) - (See here for a complete list of chapters)

Author's Note: This is the complete last chapter of Blood and Thorns! Thank you for reading along with me, it's been a wonderful experience uploading here on Tumblr. I have a sequel written in its entirety, but it's still in its editing phase so if you enjoyed Blood and Thorns, please follow me here and over on AO3 where the final version of B&T (as well as some of my related short stories) will live. I will continue to edit the Blood and Thorns chapters over there as well as here, but this is our last proper update. I'm proud of the work I've done over the past year on this book, and I hope you enjoyed. Please leave a comment, reblog, leave a like if you did and tell me what you enjoyed most! Who was your favourite character? What do you think about the themes and the plot twists? I love and appreciate each and every one of you 💖

   “Y’sure you’re gon’ be alrigh without me?” Razi asked as she finished tying Frigga’s boots. “I can come, Frigg.”    Frigga waited for Razi to stand and help her to her feet. “I’ll be fine. Besides, didn’t you say that Rosalind’s home creeped you out when we were there?”    “I was jus’ bein’ dramatic,” Razi answered as she began to help Frigga down the steps of Thorneheart Manor to the waiting carriage. “I don’ see why your meeting had to be today and why it had t’ be there.”

 “Rosalind’s still too weak to move unnecessarily, so we’re meeting there. I want to check in on them, but I have to ask them and Theodore about Leland.” They made it to the car and Razi helped Frigga up the step into it. “Besides,” Frigga continued, “I need you to look after Leland while the authorities take my aunt to the hospital.”    Razi sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I can do tha’.” She closed the car door and tilted her head up. “Jus’ get back ‘ere soon as you can, yeah?”    Frigga leaned out the window and met Razi’s lips with her own. “I will, I promise.”    “I’ll make some of those buns you like to go wit’ dinner, if you wan’.” Razi murmured    “With the honey and oats?”    “Yeah.”    “I’d like that, and I’ll thank you for them later.” Frigga kissed Razi on the cheek and winked.     Razi just grinned before stepping away from the carriage, finally allowing it to leave. Frigga leaned back into her seat and turned her thoughts to the errand ahead. The ride into town was easy enough, and the salted air lifted her spirit. As she crossed into town onto the cobblestone, Frigga watched the shops go by and noted any that might be of particular help when she and Razi left next week.     Frigga’s carriage came to a stop in front of the Bloodswell home, and she carefully eased her way down the steps. One of Rosalind’s staff members, a young man with a standardly handsome face, escorted her inside to the library; the newly-appointed Head of Household had adopted it as their preferred office and place of business and she walked in to find Rosalind and Theodore having a quiet discussion, a carefully polite expression on his face and a somewhat tense one on theirs. The two of them seemed to be doing their best to get along, but it was going to be an uphill road. Theodore was dressed in his usual white and purple suit, but Rosalind was comfortably dressed; a red camellia was tucked into their breast pocket and their broken arm peeking out from under an oversized indigo cardigan Frigga had a feeling belonged to Marcus. They were much brighter, having finally been medicated for their pain and rested properly in their own sanctuary, but were obviously going to be recovering for quite a while.    Frigga was embraced warmly by Theodore. “Thanks for coming all this way! Hope your ride in wasn’t too bad?”    She took her seat across from Rosalind, Theodore between the two. “It was fine. I saw they were doing some work on the town’s square road.”    “Very overdue, if you ask me, been needing that since New Year’s! Think the Crestfall’s carriage hit a hole, broke the wheel.”    They small talked until a servant brought in tea. Most of the conversing fell to Frigga and Theodore with Rosalind occasionally adding a word in. Once settled and refreshed, Theodore finally struck up their meeting’s topic to Frigga. “I’m told you and your, em, friend?” he hesitated, waiting on Frigga to clarify.    “Fiancée,” Frigga supplied.    Theodore’s brows raised a bit, but he politely continued after a pause with, “Ah, fiancée, yes, you two are leaving Honeyshore?”    “Yes. As soon as I’ve tied up loose ends, Razi and I will be leaving.”    “And I take it that means you’re going to be giving up your spot in the coven?”    “Yes.”    Theodore sighed with and a small frown tugging at his bushy moustache. “That’s unfortunate, I must say.”    Frigga looked down at her lap. Theodore had always treated Frigga like a daughter and she genuinely hated to grieve him. “I’m sorry, Sir. This… this life isn’t for me.”

   Theodore nodded, crossing his arms thoughtfully. “From what Marcus told me, it sounds like you’ve been miserable.”    “I wish I was better suited. I feel terrible about leaving, but-“    “Nonsense, my girl,” he interrupted while waving off her anxiety. “Of course, if it makes you miserable there’s no sense forcing you to stay.”    She looked up from her hands shyly. “Sir?”    He took a sip of tea before looking back. “Marcus said your aunt was trying to force you into it, and that Master Bloodswell here-“    “Theodore,” Rosalind bristled from behind their own tea cup. A silent conversation occurred between the two of them until the patriarch coughed lightly, recovering from the interruption.     “Yes, right, Rosalind here was the one responsible for getting you out of that sticky situation.”    Frigga smiled, holding back a laugh at the awkward tension between her two friends. It felt like that had not been the first time Rosalind had corrected their future father-in-law, and it was only day two of the engagement. “Yes, I wouldn’t be able to… I wouldn’t be free without their help.”    “Right.” His eyes darted to Rosalind and back to Frigga, a momentary, uncomfortable shift in his composure. “Well, I want you to rest assured I’ll make sure your aunt gets properly dealt with. I am disappointed that we won’t be seeing you lead our wonderful coven, of course, but what’s best for you is much more important. Such a shame Sapphire felt your well-being was secondary.”    Frigga inhaled, bracing herself. “That’s what I needed… I wanted to consult you both about. With my aunt being in custody, possibly imprisoned, and with me leaving, I’m not sure what will happen to Leland. I can’t take him, the road isn’t a place for an eight-year-old boy, and he needs a stable place to grow up. I… I’m sorry to ask.”    Theodore laughed in his jolly way. “Nonsense, my girl! Of course young Leland will be taken care of.”    Rosalind had a thoughtful look on their face as they took notes. “I can oversee his education, Frigga, that’s not a problem.” They sipped at their tea continuing with caution lacing their tone, “I’d offer him a place here, though, I’m unsure that’s what’s best for him.”    “The boy should stay with me!” Theodore offered, more enthusiastically than Frigga had expected, and she’d expected enthusiasm. “With Marcus being here so much, it’ll be nice to have a youngster around. Gods know I’ve got the room.”    A not insignificant weight was relieved from Frigga’s heart at the man’s eagerness. “Thank you. Thank you both for your generosity. Maybe I should ask Leland what he would prefer? I think, Theodore, he may prefer to live outside the city, though,” She paused and looked to Rosalind. “If he is to take up the Thorneheart seat, if that’s where he ultimately ends up, it would be good for him to be around a magical family.”    Rosalind shrugged, as if they hadn’t just offered to help raise an eight-year-old. “As I said, I’m sure I can figure that out. I agree that asking Leland what he’d prefer is ultimately the way to go. If he does end up with you, Theodore, I’ll make sure to visit with him often. I can also arrange for other coven members to do the same, if you’d like. I’m not as entertaining as some others.” They hid a wry look behind their cup.    Frigga’s stomach churned slightly. “And that was the other thing I needed to speak with you both about. My aunt… she’ll likely be excommunicated, right?”    Rosalind nodded and their tone became grave. “I can’t see how she wouldn’t be. Even if she wasn’t, she couldn’t lead the coven from prison.”    The air in the room intensified, but Frigga plowed ahead. “Well… That would mean the coven will be in your hands, Rosalind.”

   There was silence; Frigga gripped her hands, Theodore stiffened, and Rosalind placed their cup on the table quietly. “It would seem that way,” they replied slowly. A pained expression drifted across their face briefly before continuing, “But the coven will not like it. I can’t think of a single member who would stand with me and,” Rosalind looked at Theodore briefly before looking away from both their guests. “I’m unsure I’m right for the position.”    Frigga’s heart ached with a fresh wave of guilt squeezing it to bursting. “I know this wasn’t something you wanted, and I feel awful for putting you in this position.”    Rosalind shook their head softly. “You didn’t, Frigga. You made a choice about your own life. This is not your responsibility.”    “But how am I different from my aunt if I’m forcing you into-?”    “You haven’t.” Rosalind cut her off, their tone firm. They settled back into their armchair with a sigh. “I’m not thrilled about the situation, and there are ways I might,” they paused and their eyes narrowed very slightly. “It was never my ambition to become a leader, and I never thought I’d be called upon to do it.” Rosalind looked at a teary-eyed Frigga then to a grimly guarded Theodore. “But this is my home, the coven is my family, and if I am needed, if I can help then I will. I could get out of this responsibility if I truly wanted.” Rosalind looked back to Frigga, and their expression was both confidently resolute and softly compassionate. “Frigga you need to know I am not trapped as you were and I won’t have you feeling responsible for my choices. As long as I am needed, I’ll do this.”    “I… don’t know what to say.”    Rosalind’s softness faded and they grimaced instead, “But telling the coven won’t go over well.”    They were right. With everything that had happened regarding Victoria, there would likely be several members of the coven who would be resistant if not outright hostile to the concept of a Bloodswell leading the group. “I’ll vouch for you, of course. Marcus will too, I’m sure.”    “It is not going to be enough.”    They were right, “But it might-“    Theodore cut her off. “I will too.”    Both Rosalind and Frigga’s eyes blew wide as they looked to the man who’d surprised them, though Rosalind was the more surprised of the two. “Theodore?”    The man crossed his arms again and grimaced. “Honestly, Rosalind, I wasn’t enthusiastic when you told me Marcus asked you to marry him, mostly for the same reasons our coven members will be suspicious of you. We worry you’re following in your mother’s footsteps, you see.”    Rosalind looked away from Theodore to the table. “Yes.”    Theodore exhaled through his nose, an air of resignation settling around him. “However, I think it’s obvious you’re rather more like your father. Not sure how those two ever got together, to be honest.”    Frigga quietly giggled at his recollection. Jun and Victoria Bloodswell had been, by any measure, a strange couple. She had always been ambitious, cut-throat, and an active member of the coven’s social society. If there was ever a meeting, casual get-together, or party, she was the one you could rely on to be there dragging her long-suffering Heir along with her. In contrast, Jun couldn’t be bothered. He was a great academic and historian, a vital resource to the coven’s research and archives, but he was rarely seen. The only reason he’d show up to anything was if Rosalind was being spotlit somehow as in dance recitals or if his wife dragged him out by the ear. He was pleasant enough if you managed to catch him in conversation, but it was a complete mystery as to why he’d married Victoria because the man avoided conversing as a rule. Rosalind resembled their mother for the most part in appearance with their sharp features, black straight hair, heavy dark eyes, and slim stature, but were almost the exact reincarnation of their father in all other respects.    They smiled wistfully. “I try.”    Theodore nodded. “If things do get out of hand, I will vouch for you as well.”

   Rosalind took a deep breath in and let it out, their tight shoulders easing visibly. “Thank you, Theodore.”    The man broke the tension with a large grin. “Hopefully then we can all move on from this unpleasant business and get some real work done. We’ve got a wedding to plan after all!”    Rosalind groaned and Frigga beamed. Maybe there was some hope Theodore might warm up to them after all? She had been so worried about how this meeting could have devolved, but it had gone well in the end. With the worst of the meeting was over, the details about the emergency coven meeting were nailed down and it would be held in five days at Thorneheart Manor, the day Frigga would leave home.

///

   The coven’s meeting room was set up the same way it had been for Victoria’s trial, a large table in the centre of the room with enough space for the Head of Household and their Heir to be seated. Frigga would take up her aunt’s place at the head, Marcus and Theodore at her right side, the Rynaulds on her left, with Rosalind directly across the table in their family’s place. Though the coven members had been informed that something fundamentally disruptive to the coven had taken place and that they’d be having a formal discussion on the events, the details of the events had been left vague.    As the families arrived at the manor, a strained politeness manifested. Everyone remained civil but it was clear the  witches were worried about the future of the group. Though nobody outside herself and her close friends knew it, this would be Frigga’s last meeting and she’d be leaving immediately after so she did her best to briefly mingle with everyone. She was relieved she would finally be free of these niceties and was starting to see what Razi meant when she said rich people were assholes.    They weren’t unpleasant people, not at all. Frigga was fond of most of the coven members. Indeed, everyone was perfectly polite and that was the problem. Frigga felt no connection to these people and the conversations only went so long before they began to revolve around themselves. Their concerns were insular, their perspective isolated from concerns of the world. Some of them barely seemed to recognize that a world outside of their social circles existed so it was no wonder Razi was harsh on them.    As the families took their places, Frigga’s heart began to pound. She was nervous, for herself naturally, but also for Rosalind. She saw them try to socialize somewhat, though they’d ducked out of the interaction at their first opportunity. Frigga was proud of them for trying.    Finally, everyone sat in their places and Frigga sat at her aunt’s seat at the table’s head. “Welcome, friends,” she took up her chalice in greeting, sipped at it, and replaced it on the table as the coven members followed suit. The room went silent and Sapphire’s absence stung. She’d led this coven for thirty years and this was the first coven meet in more than that time she was absent.    Frigga cleared her throat and put on her most authoritative demeanour; it felt like trying to don armour built for a six-foot man. “As some of you know, there has been a grave happening within my family, the ramifications of which will profoundly affect this coven going forward. My aunt has been arrested for assault and the attempted murder of Rosalind Bloodswell. She did so because they assisted with breaking a curse she’d cast to control me.” The other witches’ reactions were varied. Some stole quick glances at Rosalind, many Head of Households whispering to their Heirs. “I was a witness to these actions but there are two others who have given statements on the matter who were present as well. Marcus Magnus-Monroe and a member of staff who was also assaulted by my aunt.”    Frigga handed out copies of the statements given by Marcus, Razi, and herself to the rest of the families and the coven members read through the statements in short-lived silence. Mildred Crestfall stood to her feet, anger clear on her face. “These are grave accusations, and obviously not something we can abide if they are true. I notice Master Bloodswell’s witness is missing from the evidence.” All eyes turned to Rosalind who was strangely calm about it. “Why might that be?”    They took a deep breath, and responded with a practiced, bored answer, “I have opted out, at this time, and I don’t believe my own testimony is necessary when these,” they gestured towards their own injuries, “speak well enough for me. I have nothing to add the testimonies have not already made clear.”    Mildred’s eyes creased narrowed, unsatisfied. “I would have thought you might be eager to put your attacker away, Master Bloodswell?”

   Rosalind did not take the bait and, judging by their small eye roll and fractional wince, Frigga figured they’d already tired of the accusation they’d heard a dozen times already. “As I said, I feel it unnecessary Lady Crestfall. I feel my injuries speak sufficiently on my behalf. You might imagine how traumatic the event was for me.”    The woman nodded, defeated for now, and sat back down. Frigga moved the meet along and moved to excommunicate her aunt immediately, a motion that was unanimous with a few abstaining from the vote, Rosalind included. Paperwork was dealt with and kept track of by Ophelia Rynauld, and the second item on the agenda arose.    Marceline Cromwell spoke as the last of the paperwork was finished, “That means we must have Miss Thorneheart officially made part of the coven as soon as possible, then?”    A general murmur of agreement echoed but Frigga sat up as straight as possible, digging deep within herself to find her courage. “No.” The room fell silent and Frigga tensed, holding her breath. They looked to Frigga with apprehensive faces, and she looked to Marcus, who nodded encouragingly. She then glanced over to an attentive Rosalind before looking around. “I will not be taking up the Thorneheart family’s place at this table. I’m leaving town today.”    The silence shattered all at once.    “Miss Thorneheart, you won’t be taking up your role?”    “How could you?”    “This isn’t like you!”    “Why?”    “How can this be?"    “Who does that leave?”    “Obviously Leland isn’t eligible yet!”    “That leaves…”    Another silence fell on the room as the realization began to settle on the group. Eyes turned to the opposite end of the table. Frigga’s did too and saw Rosalind’s eyes flashing between herself and Marcus. She stood once more. “So until such a time as Leland can accept his place as Thorneheart Head of Household, Master Rosalind Bloodswell, our second family’s Head of Household, has agreed to take up intermittent leadership.”    Chaos erupted with shocked protests coming from various families, confused questions from others, and some witches began begging Frigga to change her mind until Morgan Blackwood stood to his full height. “Miss Thorneheart, is there no way we can persuade you to reconsider?”    Frigga shook her head and took her seat with finality, surrendering her claim to lead the meeting. “No, there isn’t Sir Blackwood, but I have complete confidence in Master Bloodswell.”    Edna Downspire protested, her voice shrill, “But the Thorneheart’s have led this coven for one hundred and fifty years!”    Aurora Morgansons argued, “We have contingencies in place for this sort of situation. Master Bloodswell is the next eligible party!”    Mildred railed against the suggestion and the meeting began devolving into an argument, just as Frigga had feared. She tried to recenter herself and looked away from the chaos to where Marcus was sitting next to her. He was softly giggling and his father was shaking his head in exhaustion. She silently looked for support from either of them and Theodore stood to his feet.    “Compatriots!” He rose his voice, capturing everyone’s attention. Once the volume lowered enough and he’d gained the floor, he continued. “I hear your concerns for the future of this esteemed group, and, if I might be afforded the privilege, might I suggest we hear Master Bloodswell out?”

   Slowly, hesitantly, every member of the coven turned their attention back to Rosalind who hadn’t moved. As the coven yielded the floor to let them speak, they stood to their feet and looked to their fiancé and his father. “Thank you, Theodore.” Their face remained neutral, though Frigga saw them toying with a ring they wore absently. Their voice was calm, as always, but some of the artifice of disinterest had disappeared from it. “I see the reluctance many of you are experiencing, and I fully comprehend why. It has not been kept from me how my family’s past currently reflects on myself and it is not lost on me that my past actions might be misinterpreted as evidence of my disinterest in our coven.” Rosalind paused to look around the table, and Frigga followed their eyes to find a completely mixed reaction to their speech. There were many thoughtful, receptive faces, but just as many or more embittered or unresponsive expressions.“I care for everyone of you at this table, this coven is important to me, Honeyshore is my home. I don’t share the ambition for leadership some in my family had, but if I am called upon to serve this coven in such a capacity I will do so for as long as I am needed and no longer.”    They took their seat and the room remained silent. This was unprecedented in many ways, the witches around the table looked to each other but nobody stood to respond to Rosalind’s appeal. Frigga held her breath. It was out of her hands. She wasn’t even technically a member of the coven so her opinion held little weight. She said a silent prayer that someone might back them up, Rosalind couldn’t act until they’d been officially acknowledged.    Finally Ophelia Rynauld, the timekeeper and historian of the coven, slowly stood to her feet. She rarely contributed her own thoughts, but her opinion was highly respected when she did. She’d been silent through the entire exchange, and Frigga’s hands twisted with uncertainty.     “Friends,” she said in her deep, warmed tenor, her dark hands gesturing vaguely to everyone, tinkling with the brightly coloured bangles she wore on her wrists “our coven’s traditions and statutes are clear in these matters. In our one hundred and fifty year history, our ordinances have not failed us. As there is nobody willing nor eligible for Head of Household in the First Family’s home, the role of leader will fall to the Head of Household of our second family, the Bloodswell family, until there is.” She looked to Rosalind, her expression respectful. “Master Rosalind Bloodswell has yet to act in anyway to shame our company, nor have they given us any reason to expect less competency than their predecessor which is, more than I can vouch for regarding others at this table.” She slyly smiled, her eye passing over specific coven members and coven patron’s sons. “I recognize their leadership until such time as there is an eligible member of the Thorneheart family to take up that office.” She took up her chalice and raised it in Rosalind’s direction before taking a sip and retaking her seat.     The group digested her words for a few moments in poignant quiet as the air shifted. Slowly, eyes shifted from Ophelia to Frigga and then, finally, to Rosalind. One by one, chalices were taken up and raised in their direction in acknowledgement, mirroring Ophelia. The weight on Frigga’s shoulders finally dissolved. It was done, Rosalind had been acknowledged, and she was free of her obligation.    Once the last chalice was lowered, Rosalind stood and took up their role with their usual, confident stature. “Thank you, Ophelia, and thank you everyone for your trust in me. Now, is there any other business to be resolved?”    There wasn’t and Rosalind dismissed the group shortly afterwards. Frigga saw them take out their datebook and start writing in it before making their way to Ophelia Rynauld. For not wanting to lead the coven, Rosalind seemed very well-equipped to do it, like they’d already been doing it for years.

   She caught a few words of their conversation with Ophelia before Theodore joined them and Marcus pulled her into a conversation with Marceline and Luna Cromwell, Wade Morgansons, and Moira Blackwood. Frigga could barely catch a word, distracted until she heard him turn the conversation in a specific direction.     “Luna, who was your wedding planner? I don’t even know where to start and yours was so nice.”    Luna blinked and looked between Marcus and Frigga. “Tsunade I think was her surname. I thought your wedding had been cancelled?”    Marcus shrugged. “Yeah, that one was, but it’s not like I’m going to use any of those plans again. That kind of affair wouldn’t really suit Ros, you know?”    The others all stared at him. Frigga grinned as little as she could, though she couldn’t contain it fully as she added, “No, and I don’t think they’d really like all that blue.”    “Right?” Marcus chirped.    “Wait, what?” Luna stammered, her brow deeply furrowed, “what are you saying?”    Wade cast a glance in Rosalind’s direction. “Marcus, you’re going to have to elaborate.”    “Oh, Rosalind and I are engaged,” he explained as though it were the most well-known fact in the world. “You didn’t know?”    Frigga chuckled as Moira and Marceline gawked, Luna’s jaw dropped, and Wade burst out laughing, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “No! How long has that been going on? You didn’t say a word!”    Marcus giggled as he received congratulations from everyone, and Frigga glanced over at Rosalind who was watching the distraction for a half-second with a fond smirk before they resumed their discussion with Ophelia and Theodore. Frigga couldn’t believe things turned out this way and her heart was bursting with relief and joy. As soon as she walked down those stairs she and Razi would be leaving, and she was confident that she’d left the coven in good hands. There was just one thing left for her to do.     She excused herself, letting Marcus know where to go after everything was completed, and exited the room heading towards the private chambers. She grabbed the bag she’d packed night before with Razi’s help, slung it over her shoulders, and left to find Leland in his room. As Frigga had expected, Leland had chosen to live away from the city with the familiar family. Most of his belongings had already been moved to the Magnus-Monroe estate, but there were still a few items he’d had to pack up before leaving today. His packed bags sat next to the door and the boy was on the floor surrounded a few toys he’d kept handy. He was pouting and sulking, his face tightly wound to keep himself from crying and refused to look at his sister when she knocked on the door and walked over. “You ready?”    He shook his head, his pout twisting into anger. “I don’t want to go. Why do I have to?”    She sat beside him taking up a small, hand-whittled deer from the floor. “I’m leaving and Auntie isn’t here. You said you were excited to go to Marcus’ house, right?”    Leland sadly nodded. “But why do you have to go? Don’t you like it here? Where are you going?”    Frigga sighed. Even with her impaired memory she knew they’d already had this conversation a few times. “I’m going on an adventure, remember?”    “For how long?”    “I don’t know, Lee. A long time.”    The boy sniffled and threw the small toy he’d been holding across the room. It fell harmlessly but the visual still had Frigga scrambling to reign in a swell of complicated emotions; she didn’t want to make her brother so angry, so scared. He was losing his sister, his aunt, and now the only home he’d ever known. It was such a big change for such a little boy. “Leland, I see you’re angry. I know this isn’t what you would like, but Theodore will take good care of you. Marcus and Rosalind will too, I promise.”    He crossed his arms and looked angrily away from his sister, refusing to reply.

   “I know it’s scary. It’s understandable to be afraid.” She placed a hand on his shoulder gently and the boy began sobbing. She threw her arms around her brother, holding him closely as he cried.    It took a while, but eventually he calmed down. “I’m gonna miss you,” he finally admitted through his sniffles. “You just got back!”    With a delicate flick of her wrist, Frigga conjured a tissue and gave it to him. “I’ll miss you too, but I promise to write and visit when we can. And this is just a new chapter in your own adventure.”    He wiped his tears with the tissue, his shoulders still sunken. “Yeah.”    Frigga put her hands on his shoulders. “You can be brave too, right?”    He nodded, still sniffling, but finally cracked the smallest smile. “I can be brave.”    The siblings picked up the last of Leland’s things off the floor and Marcus came by to pick up the last of his bags. “Need any help, bud?” Leland crashed into him and the two laughed. Marcus was even more excited than his father that Leland had chosen to stay with them and had shared his plans to help the boy feel welcome with Frigga before meet. The man grabbed Leland’s bag with a laugh. “I think I know what we’ll do when we get home! I invented this sport and Jenkins absolutely hates it.” As the two of them plotted the downfall of the servant’s sanity, Marcus escorted the young boy and Frigga to the staircase.     It was time to go.

///        While Frigga was in session with the asshats, Razi went through her pack one last time in her quarters. A map, a few changes of clothes, basic toiletries, tent and sleeping necessities… It was going to be heavy once the food rations and water were added, but working on the grounds for the last decade made her strong enough to do the heavy lifting and carry Frigga to see Bluehaven’s doctors if she had to. They would likely have to stop often until she got used to travelling anyway as Frigga’s condition was delicate. Not to mention the aristocrat wasn’t exactly used to roughing it like Razi expected they would be. Despite Frigga’s symptoms being subtle most of the time, Frigga was going to need more help than they’d initially thought and she wouldn’t be able to carry much weight on their travels, at least to start. The woman was taking her disability in stride, but it was still upsetting to see the witch’s health decline so much. She would never be truly independent, but she was still happy, still hopeful, and she was still Frigga.    She glanced at her left hand, the ring Frigga gave her glistening on her finger. Such a silly little thing, but it’d grown on her in the last week. Almost literally, she likely wouldn’t be able to get it off now. Smirking, she stuck her hand in her pocket to make sure the things were still in it before grabbing her bags. Razi took one last fond look around her room. It had been her home for a long time and now it wasn’t. She’d been at this job for ten years, her father had worked here for five years before that and it was the closest thing she had to a home. She’d grown up here, she’d become an adult here, and now she was leaving. Razi closed the door behind her one last time with a slow exhale.    She found Gertrude and Doris in the kitchens, Doris gossiping away and Gertrude was telling her off about something or other. As it should be. They looked at her as she came in and fell silent. “Mornin’, ladies,” Razi greeted cheerfully. “Just ‘ere for a few things and I’ll be permanently out of your hair.”    The two women looked at each other and then back to her. Gertrude wiped her hands on her apron, she’d been peeling potatoes, and gestured to a nicely packed parcel on the island counter. “We’ve actually made something up for the two of you. We know it’ll probably be a while ’til you get into Bluehaven. There’s some baked goods, some dried fruit and meats, and a few of the Miss’s favourite preserves.”    Razi set her things down on the floor, went to Gertrude, and gave her a big hug. “Thanks, Gert. That means a lot. Was just gon’ grab some bits and ends so this’ll be real ‘elpful.”    “I can’t let you go empty handed, Wood. And Frigga,” Gertrude stepped back to square Razi up and down, becoming serious. “Do right by her.”    Razi grinned. “Givin’ me the shovel talk, are you? Tha’s real sweet, Gert. Don’t you know me?”    “I do,” the woman taunted. “I mean it, none of your old habits. It won’t do anymore.”    Razi rolled her eyes; Gertrude witnessed more than one should have over the years, what with Razi bringing girls home and such. She couldn’t blame the woman for this then, not really. “Oh, come on, I’m an hones’ woman now! You don’ think I know tha’?”    Doris piled on while scooting around the counter coming nearer. “She means you gotta marry her, Wood, and you got to be a proper wife.”    Razi levelled a deadpan look at the woman. “Dor, I told you, I’m not sayin’ I will or won’ marry her, not t’ you. Mind your business!” It made sense Doris was protective. She had taken care of Frigga every day for nearly three months so Razi put one hand over her heart and raised the other with great solemnity. “I promise, I’ll take good care of her.”    The older women began to tear up, and Razi opened her arms welcoming both in for a group hug. Even if they were both nosy, they were nice ladies and she was going to miss them. But not a lot.

   Gertrude wiped a tear away with her apron daintily. “You really think she’ll be alright out there? ‘Specially ‘cause of her injury. Is that why you’re headed to Bluehaven first?”    Doris nodded solemnly but chuckled after a thought. “I bet she screams the first bug she sees.”    Razi began putting the food parcel in her pack. “Doris, y’know she’s a flower child, right? Like, she’s ‘round bugs and dirt all th’ time. Pretty sure I saw her catch a spider wit’ her bare hands yesterday.”    Doris laughed. “Oh yes, that’s right. Her stockings and petticoats are always covered in at least six inches of mud.”    She filled two large canisters with fresh water to be kept on her bag’s strap and hung around to chat with the two women while waiting the coven meeting out. They asked her where else they were headed and what she was most excited to see, and Doris also went out of her way to dig for information on said marrying of Frigga. Razi gave her nothing because, once again, Doris needed to mind her own business.    Not to mention she couldn’t keep her damn mouth shut and Razi wanted it to be a surprise.    Steps began to rumble from above; the meeting adjourned and the Honeyshore Coven had finished their final meeting with Frigga. It was still several minutes before the families started making their way down the front staircase. Razi looked on from the kitchen door watching the guests leave. They were all assholes, every last one of them in her humble opinion. Seven families of witches exited the building, and Razi watched them, grinning like the kid that got away with the cookie. Theodore left shortly after too, Leland’s final bag over a shoulder, and she gave him a polite nod as he did. Finally, they were gone and good riddance too.    It wasn’t much longer until she heard footsteps again at the top of the stairs. Frigga, Leland, Rosalind, and Marcus were finally descending, Rosalind leaned heavily on Marcus’ arm and Frigga gripped the railing. When she caught Razi’s eye, she rushed to her love, dropping her bags at the bottom of the staircase. They embraced with a kiss and a hug, both wearing the purest happiness on their lips.    “Ready, Princess?” asked Razi.    Frigga giggled. “Of course, my king.”    Before they picked up their bags again, Leland ran to his sister and crashed into her with a hug that nearly knocked the unstable witch to the floor. Frigga clung to her brother tightly and cast a look over to Marcus who was watching the scene from a few feet away, Rosalind leaned on his side. Over the past week Frigga had expressed feeling enormous guilt about leaving her brother, even if it was the best thing for him. Theodore and the golden retriever would be like a father and brother; Leland would be safe and supported, not pressured to do things he didn’t want, which was more than his atrocious aunt would ever have done.    Marcus walked over to the siblings and put a hand on Leland’s shoulder. “Come on, we’re all gonna go say goodbye outside, alright?”    He led the boy away, Rosalind went with him, allowing Frigga a chance to say goodbye to Gertrude and Doris. The servants were a blubbering mess and Frigga was barely holding herself together. They had been with her every day, and Gertrude had been around even before she had gone to school. Now they were saying goodbye, perhaps forever.    Razi made sure Frigga wasn’t overloaded as the two women picked up their bags. She was a little wobbly, but it would be fine, they’d take it slow. They weren't going far today, just into town and then maybe an hour outside of it. If Razi’s calculations were correct, they’d be in Bluehaven in about a week, and she’d made sure to over-prepare. They stepped outside into the sun. It was the perfect temperature for setting off on a long afternoon walk, just like they always did.    Marcus was the first to give Frigga a big hug and she held him tightly. “Please take care of yourself, Frigga. Let us know if you need anything, anything at all? You’re always welcome in our home.”

   Frigga sighed happily into his arms. “I will. I’ll be fine. We’ll write as soon as we arrive in Bluehaven I promise.” Marcus let go and offered a handshake to Razi that was about as awkward as an ex-fiancé shaking a current fiancée’s hand could reasonably be. Then, with a small nod, he backed away to allow Leland a moment.    Leland gave his sister one last tearful hug and then surprised Razi with one as well. She’d carved many trinkets for him, and he understood how much Razi cared for his sister. He’d said that made her his family too at dinner last night which made the woman’s heart melt whenever she thought about it. After Leland let Razi go, Marcus extended a hand to him, motioning towards the waiting carriage. Leland took his hand and was led away.    That left Rosalind. From Razi’s point of view, they almost seemed to be enjoying the hug Frigga had caught them in. It was the first time Razi saw them enjoying human contact ever, apart from Marcus.    “Please take care of my brother, Ros.” Frigga was fully crying now, and she didn’t let Rosalind go.    Rosalind nodded. “I’ll do my best. I’m only disappointed that you’ll be unable to attend the wedding.”    Frigga pulled back a bit and smiled sadly. “Likely not, but you never know. October, right?”    Rosalind nodded before looking between Frigga and Razi. “Marcus is right, you always have a place with us. If you need anything, either of you, please don’t hesitate to ask.”    Frigga nodded and placed a kiss on Rosalind’s cheek. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for us.” She released them, and their cheeks were slightly flushed, but the vampire wore the smallest of indulgent smiles, and Razi figured that they sort of had to indulge Frigga; they had just excommunicated her aunt and taken her spot in the coven after all.    Frigga finally released Rosalind and they looked hesitantly over to Razi who was smirking at the spectacle. She saw Rosalind unsure what to do next as her previous one-on-one with them had her threatening them and Razi hadn’t bothered to follow up or make nice afterwards. After some consideration, they offered their good hand to shake and locked eyes with her. “Truly, if either of you needs anything, you need only ask.”    Razi eyed Rosalind’s outstretched hand briefly before they finally took it. “We appreciate it, Vampire.”    Rosalind smirked. “That’s Master Vampire to you, madam,” they retorted dryly, and Razi snorted, shocked they knew what a joke was. They nodded and hopped into their carriage. It took off and both Marcus and Leland leaned out the window, waving like crazy. Frigga waved back until they were out of sight, and Razi and Frigga were left alone on the steps of Thorneheart Manor.    The road stretched out in front of them and a soft breeze in the sea salted air made for perfect walking conditions. They would walk through town to pick up a few things, sell a few valuables, and then head north towards Bluehaven, but Razi had plans for them on their way out of town first.    She took Frigga’s hand in her left hand, slipping her right into her pant pocket fumbling with what she’d stashed there: Her father’s pocket knife and a polished rosewood ring she’d been whittling for the last week. They’d stop at the market for supplies, but they’d also make one last stop at the town’s temple to make good on her promise before they left.    Razi leaned down for a quick kiss met happily, and they set off down the path together.

[strapstylehub]

Unleashing Productivity: The Best Apple Watch Apps to Supercharge Your Day

In a world where time is of the essence, leveraging technology to boost productivity has become paramount. Enter the Apple Watch, your wrist's personal productivity powerhouse. In this article, we'll explore the top Apple Watch apps that seamlessly integrate into your daily routine, turning your wrist into a command center for efficiency.

"Mastering Time: Best Apple Watch Apps for Productivity"

"Discover the ultimate productivity boost with the best Apple Watch apps for seamless task management, focus, and efficiency. Elevate your daily routine with these must-have apps."

Introduction

Welcome to the future of productivity, where your Apple Watch isn't just a timepiece but a personal assistant dedicated to making your life more efficient. Imagine having the power to manage tasks, stay focused, and improve your health—all with a simple glance at your wrist. Let's dive into the world of the best Apple Watch apps that will revolutionize how you approach each day.

Task Management Titans

Never Miss a Beat with Todoist Task management at its finest! Todoist helps you organize your life seamlessly. From work deadlines to grocery lists, Todoist ensures you stay on top of your tasks, right from your wrist.

Focus on Focus

Zen Out with Focus@Will Struggling to concentrate? Enter Focus@Will, your concentration companion. This app curates music scientifically designed to enhance focus. Let the music guide you into a state of deep work and heightened productivity.

Efficiency Unleashed

Swift Navigation with ETA Navigate through your day efficiently with ETA. Whether it's commuting or running errands, ETA provides real-time travel estimates, ensuring you're never late again.

Healthier Habits

Stay Active with Streaks Workout A healthy mind in a healthy body! Streaks Workout offers quick and effective workouts, making it easier to incorporate exercise into your daily routine. Achieve your fitness goals, one workout at a time.

Communication Simplified

Stay Connected with Slack Work doesn't wait, and neither should you. With Slack on your wrist, you're just a glance away from important messages and updates. Stay in the loop without missing a beat.

Inspiration on Your Wrist

Quotes for Thought with BrainyQuote Need a mental pick-me-up? BrainyQuote delivers daily inspiration right to your Apple Watch. Fuel your day with wisdom and motivation.

Financial Fitness

Budgeting Brilliance with YNAB Take control of your finances with You Need A Budget (YNAB). Monitor your spending, set financial goals, and make informed decisions—all on your wrist.

Entertainment Breaks

Relax with WaterMinder Dehydration can hinder productivity. WaterMinder reminds you to stay hydrated, ensuring you're always at your best. A well-hydrated mind is a sharp mind!

Customization Corner

Personalize Your Watch with Watchsmith Tailor your Apple Watch experience with Watchsmith. From complications to app icons, unleash your creativity and make your watch truly yours.

Conclusion

In the fast-paced world we live in, harnessing the power of technology to enhance productivity is a game-changer. Your Apple Watch, equipped with these apps, becomes a vital ally in conquering daily challenges. From managing tasks to staying focused and healthy, these apps redefine what your wristwatch can do.

FAQs

Q: Can I use these apps on any Apple Watch model? Yes, most of these apps are compatible with a wide range of Apple Watch models, ensuring accessibility for all users.

Q: Are these apps free to download? While some apps offer free versions, others may have premium features. Check the App Store for specific details on each app's pricing structure.

Q: Can I customize the order of apps on my Apple Watch? Absolutely! Head to the Apple Watch app on your iPhone, select 'App Layout,' and arrange your apps as per your preference.

Q: How do I install apps on my Apple Watch? Once you've downloaded an app on your iPhone, it will automatically appear on your Apple Watch if it's compatible. You can manage this in the Apple Watch app settings.

Q: Do these apps drain the Apple Watch battery quickly? No need to worry. While these apps may use some battery, Apple Watch is designed to handle them efficiently without significantly impacting battery life.

[heonsecretarts]

08/09/2023

Good Day to y’all tumblrs and fellow users! It’s been a long time I didn’t post here!! since that pandemic hit– yeesh! Like I said from my last post, had to survive many errands in me so here I am! back! Today’s episode I think I’m just going to post a few last post for this tumblr for a while cause I got a big job out there….!

So far I’ll still be posting characters of Martial Arts and Fighting Styles here for the meantime cause I suddenly got an entity possessing me to post drawings somewhere….but luckily for me I got a friend who could help me cope up my health!

For those who missed my recent posts here check out my last current OC: ONIHABU | NARVHIST

———————————————————————-

next on my creation list! Showcasing Michelle Kimberly

a white blonde fighter, who practices capoeira. I technically drew her along the same line ups with Solenne and Aedine! When I was making her in lore wise, I was planning to make a European character who practices such a obscure martial arts and thus I gave her the capoera moveset. **I actually made her first in a WWE caw game so...

As much lore wise goes, She is old freinds with Shane Brandon before turning herself into the dark side I mentioned on one of my pages.

-

-She's a very optimistic fighter without any form of enmity from childhood who was trained by a character I also gave named Soiryus Malcolm. She joined the tournament who just want to meet new friends throughout the world and show her martial arts of what she can do.

**Jessie & Soiryus Malcolm *Also two characters I created in a CAW WWE game.

-While she doesn't know who her parents are, there's a rumor that she's also finding her long lost twin sister. And being raised by a indigenous tribe, she lacks a lot of knowing information around the world thus why she travels.

She's not a bimbo or anything like that, but that's what happens when she was raised so good without evil from the tribe it makes a person so untouchable to society.

-and no, Solenne is not her long lost sister too.

-**Michelle doing kicks.

For a long time, she lives in Brazil...story goes is that her parents went on a trip there only to be killed by a gang. Then from there she was adopted by tribes people who defended the infant from the dangerous gang.

-

Michelle and Shane 2 years before Shane turning bad.

If i were to make a moveset of her, it'll probably be based on Elena from Street Fighter or Christie Monteiro. and her punches will also be replace with kicks.

Draw these all from 2016 ry'alls!

I'll see if i could update her story or something because as time passes I might change the original lore that I wrote for Solenne Cassaway before.

See ya on the next post!

[luxuryapartmentsinriveroaks]

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They make many attempts in this article to help keep things exciting and thrilling. This is the peaceful Group with plenty of reading and more attractions, and you'll find always exciting balloons and weird big inflatable holiday-themed creatures at the front entrance to greet you. The brand new speedbumps are awesome, the new computer area/business issue is awesome, along with the dog pleasant Group vibe continues to be magnificent. The fitness center remains not fantastic, but this has additional to complete with Connor Team not investing in their greatest assets in The entire place (HINT HINT CONNOR Team UPDATE THE Fitness center). Regardless of the lackluster equipment, once we experienced issues with regards to the lights becoming out from the gym hallway, the stellar servicing workforce had been there to take care of the issue that day. The astounding employees below make up completely for just about any minimal issues which could arise over the home. 12/ten recommend 11/thirteen/seventeen Fantastic Spot with Privacy

[bidisaster-peanut-romano]

absolutely LOSING IT at how personally offended peanut is that he wasn't invited at a preps party

[momiji-bookhouse]

I'll check them out ((:

YES ANGST TO COMFORT IS MY FAVE AHHH okay here we go..

Kazu. And his lover (Fem! Reader) getting into a huge argument on board The Crux. We all know that usually he's very calm, collected, nice etc. But this time, you can choose the reason, he snaps and bursts out at reader, WHO, already feels like they're not good enough for him. I hc that when he gets genuinely angry, he spits out the worst, most ruthless words. Reader has no vision (she went on board for Kazuha and to help out with.. everything except for fight related things ig), isn't the best at words, and compares herself to Lumine, who, to her, has everything and she feels like Kazu is dating her out of pity. She loves the blonde, she really does, but her insecurities eat her up so bad. ("She has saved three nations, and what am I doing?" Things like that.) So, during the argument, he uses those against her. He uses her biggest insecurities against her. Anyway, she runs away, yada yada. /Additional part.. Beidou hears everything, she knows all about the reader since they grew up together, and so she gives the man a huge lecture. But scrape this part if you wanna since you don't want to write it since you don't write for her, but it's part of my brainrot hsjsh./ More angst you say? Sure!!! Abit of reader's backstory: her whole life, she's been looked down on, she's also very brainwashed.. to think that she's never good enough, not good at anything, she's useless, worthless and all that, so for her to join Kazuha on his journey/travels is a huge sacrifice for her (for him?? What is English-) since she's an introvert but she tries her best to come out of her shell; baby steps. ANYWAYYY, you can decide the ending but happy ending please, I can't take pure angst. 😭 Anyway yeah, I've had this brainrot for days and if you don't wanna write it, it's fine.

This is so long omg sorry, I tend to ramble and my attention to details is painfully strong. But yeah it has mentions of Lumine and it also features Beidou, so technically I'm breaking the rules here??? I shall stop here 😶 And why did I just dump myself onto reader lmaooo.

Take care and stay safe!!!

(Oh and also wanna be moots/friends? I'm v shy to ask but you're so nice and jskshs okay bye)

Essence of the Stars

pairing: Kaedehara Kazuha x fem!Reader

genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst (the comfort part will come in part 2)

words: 2.5k

summary: It only took a few words for his voice to join the chorus in your head.

tw: arguing, insecurities, implied emotional abuse

a/n: This is for you @mako-yaki! I hope you like it! Also, to clarify, when I say I only write for the characters on my rules list, it means I only take requests for those characters. I should clear that up and update my rules. So no worries El, you're not breaking any rules here.

As the assistant to Yinxing, the Crux's surgeon, your main duty whenever the fleet returns to Liyue is to restock the supply of herbs for the concoction of medicine and potions. As such, you're no stranger to the Bubu Pharmacy and its mysterious owner, as well as his enigmatic apprentice who seems to have trouble remembering things.

As an avid botanical ethusiasts and endlessly curious about discovering the new healing properties of plants, you have the added joy of talking to said owner and learning new things from him.

On this particular errand, while collecting the bags of requested herbs from Baizhu, he told you about the appearance of a rare plant that was thought to have gone extinct years ago.

"Duskbloom," Baizhu says and your eyes lit up at the recognition of the name, having briefly seen it in one of your herbal encyclopaedias. "A flower that only blossoms in the light of the setting sun."

"And can only thrive in deep caverns with little exposure to sunlight." You finish.

"Very good, you still remember your studies." He nods in satisfaction. "The flower was thought to have gone extinct during the time of the Archon War, but recently one of my apprentices had discovered it growing in one of the caverns in Lisha."

Your eyes flitted over to the reception table, where the little girl would normally be. Changsheng, noticing this, speaks up. "You best not wait up for that girl, she's out collecting herbs somewhere. Who knows when she'll return with that head of hers."

"Unfortunately, any Duskblooms that Qiqi managed to harvest are being used for research. However, if you're willing to make the trip, exit Liyue Harbor on the south side and go past the stone Yaksha statues. Keep on the road until you see the river. Where it splits you should see a branch of it flowing down into the mouth of a cavern."

That doesn't sound too far off. Maybe you can convince Captain Beidou to let you and Kazuha have a day off, if even that long.

"Thank you, Baizhu-sensei," you say as you receive the bag of herbs from him, your heart filling with excitement. "I'll check it out."

Convincing Kazuha is the easy part. Your lover quickly agrees to your request of accompanying you, a gentle and adoring smile on his face as he listens to you talk about the flower and some of its medicinal properties with a sparkle in your eyes.

"Duskblooms! I thought I would only be able to see them in books. I never thought I would be able to study them in real life." Your face is bright and eager. "Just think about what sickness they can cure." You stop when you finally notice how he's staring at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "O-oh, am I boring you with this?"

"Not at all, love." He takes your hand in his, his maroon eyes still gazing at you with affection. "I love hearing you talk with such passion and vigor. And even if it is an ordinary topic, I can never be tired of your voice."

Your heart palpitated at his words as a flush creeps up your cheeks. Even after being in a relationship with him for some time, his words have yet to cease their effects on you, and frankly you doubt there will come a time they will not make your stomach flutter.

Although you have travelled with Kazuha a number of times throughout Liyue, they were mostly at places where both of you made absolutely certain there would be no enemies or danger lurking about. After all, as someone who was not blessed with a Vision, you couldn't wield the elements, and you weren't someone who took up fighting either – instead preferring to use your hands to bandage wounds and pound herbs into paste.

For a trip to a mysterious cavern like this, you both agreed it's best to call on someone with experience from the Adventurer's Guild to go with you.

After a few hours of posting the commission, someone accepted. You sigh in relief when you see that it's the Traveler, knowing that she's more than capable of handling a simple mission such as this. You haven't seen her since the situation at Inazuma ended, electing to stay behind on Watatsumi to help tend to the wounded and rejoining the Crux when the heat of the conflict passed.

You two meet up with her and Paimon at the Guild's reception desk, exchanging greetings before setting out. You catch up with Lumine along the way, and although she answers your questions with a smile, you can't help but notice how she looks as if though she's being weighed down – no doubt still affected by the events in the Land of Thunder.

It doesn't take long for your group to arrive at the location, with the way Lumine expertly guides you around one would think she has been in Liyue even longer than you have.

The sound of the rushing water fills your ear as Kazuha takes your hand and carefully leads you into the cave, your feet hitting the damp ground.

Scanning the place to the best of your abilities with limited lighting, you zero in on some flowers among the grass that's swaying with the breeze. You trot over and squat down, a smile lighting up your face when you see the dark blue and violet purple petals bleeding into a blush pink, the flower currenlty closed due to it only being midday. However, you know that when it blooms, it will reveal rows and rows of petals surrounding a yellow centre, just as described in your books.

"Is that it?" Lumine asks. "It looks really pretty."

"Indeed. Its colors remind me of the sky when the sun is barely below the horizon, but the stars are already in view. Duskbloom," he muses. "What a fitting name."

"Can you eat it?"

You chuckle at the floating fairy's question. "It's been said to also be used in cooking, yes. But I haven't been able to find any recipes with it as an ingredient."

You look around the cave, silently counting the amount of flowers in your head. There isn't a lot of them, below 10 from what you can see, so you decide to take 2 for now. But just as your fingers close in on the stem, an unexpected enemy burst forth from the ground.

You yelp in surprise and fall onto your butt as what you thought were Duskblooms turn out to be Whopperflowers.

"Dove, are you all right?" Kazuha says in a worried tone as he helps you up.

"I'm fine." Your legs shake as you stand.

"Paimon, you and (Y/N) find a place to hide." Lumine summons her sword and squares off against one of the Whopperflowers.

Kazuha kisses your cheek, muttering words of assurance to you before joining the Traveler. You and Paimon nod at each other and quickly find a wall to hide behind while Kazuha and Lumine deal with the Pyro and Cryo Whopperflowers.

The Cryo one is easier to deal with, the fire from its Pyro companion more than enough to neutralize its ice. The Pyro Whopperflower, however, constantly evades the attacks by retreating into the ground and appearing back again in another location.

Your eyes widen when you see the grass catching fire from the Whopperflower's fireballs, the blaze quickly spreading and threatens to engulf the other Duskblooms. Your heart pounds in panic at the thought of the precious flower succumbing to extinction once again, and even before you can harvest them no less.

To this day, you still don't know where you get the courage to propel your legs forward, ignoring Paimon's cry of your name as your mind focuses on nothing but the flowers. You rush forward, dodging the fire and plucks two Duskblooms just as the flames begin to lick at their stems.

You roll on the ground, panting and grasping the flowers to your chest, panicked yells of your name ringing in your ears. You sit up to see the Whopperflower right in front of you.

You scream, but there is barely any time for you to get up and run as it is already charging up to throw a fireball at you. You shut your eyes, teeth clenching as you await for the burning singe.

A burst of wind explode before you, and you open your eyes to see Lumine shielding you with her sword, the Whopperflower blasted away by her Anemo power. For good measure, she unleashes a ray of lightning to incapitate it and Kazuha finish it off with a slash of his sword.

Adrenaline still course through your veins as you watch it turn into dust, and only when you feel Lumine shaking you did you register that she has been calling you. "W-what?"

"Are you all right? Were you hurt anywhere?"

"N-no." You do a quick once over of your body, finding only dirt and grass clinging to your clothes and skin. You can't say the same to Lumine, however. "Oh! Let me patch you up."

You got out the supplies from your bag, applying a salve to her minor burns and cleaning up some of the cuts before bandaging them. You are about to do the same thing to Kazuha when he suddenly steps back from you, an unreadable expression on his face.

You flinch, not expecting for him to react like that, nor are you ready for the storm of emotions clouding his maple-red eyes. He turns away, obscuring his face from you, and simply says in an even tone.

"We should head back."

The journey back is uncharacteristically quiet, enough to make you squirm as you all follow the road back to Liyue Harbor. You keep trying to glance at Kazuha, but he doesn't say a single word to anyone, still retaining that emotionless look on his face that somehow unsettles you more than anything.

You part ways with Lumine and Paimon, and the trip back to the Alcor is not an improvement. You walk behind him, reluctant to speak up when you don't even know what's on his mind. There's something heavy hanging in the air, something you never thought would happen when you're with Kazuha, and the unknown nature of it makes your throat clench unconsciously.

You make it onto the deck and follow him down to the crew's quarters, where thankfully there is only the two of you. You set your bag down and hesitantly approaches him, but he still refuses to meet your eyes.

"Kazu-"

"What were you thinking?" You stop in your tracks at his tone of voice – still steady, but some underlying emotion hidden behind them makes your heart throb in nervousness.

He turns to face you, and you almost gasp at the way his eyes narrow and darken, stormy with anger and ire. Your legs shake, never having seen those things being directed to you by him before.

"I-"

"You were specifically told to hide." He cut through your words and make you snap your mouth shut. "Why would you run out like that? How can you be so reckless?"

You keep your mouth close and he continues. "Do you even know what danger you were in? You are Visionless." You recoil, something about the way he let out that word conjure up unpleasant memories for you. "You don't even know how to fight and you decided to barge into the middle of battle for what?"

"You don't have a Vision. You don't know how to fight. What good are you?"

He grits his teeth and let out a huff of exasperation. "What's worse, not only your safety but you put the Traveler's safety in danger. What if she wasn't there? What if she got injured due to your actions? Did you even think about that?"

"Look at what you've done!"

"Thank Archons for Lumine's capabilities. At least she has a good head on her shoulders," Kazuha mutters, and you feel as if though someone has gotten a hold of your heart and is squeezing it in their palm.

"At least one of your children is blessed."

"How can I trust that you're not going to make the same mistake twice? I can't look after you all the time, (Y/N). Especially not if we're out in the world and encounter some unexpected danger."

"I think it's best if you don't accompany us from now on, (Y/N). It will certainly relieve all of us of stress."

"W-what are you saying?" You manage to croak out, but your voice sounds disembodied. As if though you aren't completely there.

He doesn't answer your question, only staring at you with those eyes. Your heart pounds like drums in your chest as your breathing quickens, and you feel your stomach twisting into knots. You long to say more, to open your mouth and say sorry to him and please, I'll be good, I'll be better next time, just please-

"I need some air."

How much time has passed? A minute? A few seconds? It all feels like eternity to you. Kazuha brush past you, not even looking at you on the way up, the cold breeze he leaves behind making you shiver.

Your legs feel like jelly under you, and you would've fallen into a heap if not for your muscles locking up and putting you in place like a statue. It isn't even a hot day, but you feel like you're burning up from the inside.

"No good. Can't do anything right. Ruined everything. Only weighing all of us down."

"Visionless."

You shake your head vigorously and cover your ears, trying your best to deny that those words came out of your beloved's mouth. But it only makes things worse.

His voice begins to blend in with your parents' and sibling's until it morphs into a twisted choir that endlessly spats out insults at you. You want to scream, want to counter their words and say that you're better than that. But over the years you have come to accept their words, letting them drip into your ears like honey, only revealing their true nature when they poisoned your veins.

You don't know when you curl up into a ball, don't know at what moment the tears begin to escape your eyes, but you flinch all the same when you feel hands on your shoulders. You look with misty eyes to see the outline of your captain, but it did nothing to soften the voices in your head.

"Captain..." You rasp out. "I...can't breathe..."

Your heart feels like it's beating right out of your ribcage as your throat constricts, not even giving you the opportunity to let out the racked sobs that threaten to swallow you whole.

You feel her pulling you closer into an embrace, trying her best to tell you to breathe with her. You'll be fine, (Y/N), just breathe. Breathe with me. 1...2...3...That's it. Breathe. I'm here for you.

The voices don't stop.

[uncouth-the-fifth]

pythia, a supernatural rewrite. phantom traveler, p.0

read it on Ao3. masterlist.

words: 6677

notes: heyyyy! sorry for the late update. the first chapter isn't finished yet, but i just started a new job, so i've been slow to catch up and didn't want to leave you guys hanging any longer. here's a little half-chapter to sate you :p feat. our first Bobby appearance and some good angst.

EAU CLAIRE, WISCONSIN - Nov. 24th, evening.

Sam had never seen so many hunters in one place before.

He’d always known that Thanksgiving was a busy time of year for the Proctors, but he’d never had the chance to see it in person. Dad always had “better things to do” when Beth’s party-of-the-year came ‘round, even if Dean begged him and Sam silently urged it by being caught up on all of his work. The celebration was Dad’s bane and Dean’s heaven: dozens of other hunters, all bringing free food and old stories to one table. ____ had called him every year to mope about it—or, he called her, from whatever random payphone was closest. It was the biggest event of the year in her house, and one of the most important ways the Proctors gave back to their hunter counterparts.

____’s family had been an epicenter of the hunting community for literal generations, so by noon the house was already full. Sam had been up since seven, running errands for Beth and helping Dean and ____ cook the prepped food. For a brief moment he had fooled himself into thinking things would be relaxing. Then, a few individual hunters had started trickling in (“Mavin, Scott, and Carol,” ____ had explained), followed by families (“Those are the Baynes’, n’ uh comin’ up behind em are the Hirths.”), and partner sets (“Carl n’ Melanie, vamp hunters—oh! And that’s Bennie and Manuel, from Texas.”), all people Beth knew. All hunters.

All of them squeezed into the second floor of the Proctor House, trickling out into the stairwells, hanging out the windows to smoke, and plastering themselves to every possible surface in the house. Sam had to squeeze through to get into the kitchen. There were big, burly hunters playing cards around the coffee table. More varieties of them sat on the arms and backs of chairs to make bets on the game. Fresh-eyed hunting girls flocked to Beth’s lace-clothed reading table, doing tarot, trading crystals, and consulting her library. Gruffer hunters lined the hallways of the house, conspiring in coarse voices with one another. Sam even thought he’d seen some kids reading comics on the stairwell.

Each crevice was filled with warm, boisterous chatter and laughter. Every single person in the house had a paper plate loaded with Thanksgiving dinner. The air cloyed with incense and buttery food, like ____’s home always did. They could’ve all been one massive, normal family, had it not been for the matching bandaids on every arm and the drying water on every face. Beth had a family friend playing bouncer, checking in every guest with a cut from a silver knife and a faceful of holy water. Just to be safe. Sam watched a little girl go giggling up the stairwell, a bright My Little Pony bandaid on her right shoulder. The old silver-checking scars on his arm stung.

The only safe haven was the kitchen. Beth was so busy she couldn’t even lift her head to greet him, but Sam didn’t mind. The hair at his neck had been uncomfortably prickling all afternoon. Though he wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt, it’d been trained into him to raise his hackles around other hunters.

“Hey,” he greeted her, “I found the masking tape.”

“Atta boy,” Beth said, and gestured wildly with her free hand to the rows of filled tupperware on the counter. Sam recognized them. Since he, Dean, and Dad could never make it, she always sent out leftovers for them. “Can you label those?” She asked. “I made a list of people we’re sendin’ em’ out to—it’s over on the fridge, baby. And hey, you seen my kid?”

Sam plucked the hastily written list off the fridge, stole a sharpie from the junk drawer, and ignored a pair of men in the kitchen archway peering at him. “Sure I can,” he told her, itching his neck, “and I think I saw ____ run-off with Bobby a while ago.”

“Trying to get the peach cobbler recipe out of him, I’ll bet.” Beth shoveled some mashed potatoes into the last of the tupperware. Her face settled into smug delight. “Smart girl. Maybe this’ll be the year.”

Sam put on a smile for her. “What does the future say?”

Beth made a face, similar to the airy, keen one ____ made when she was deep in thought, and pat Sam on the back. She smirked. “Outlook: not so good.”

Sam started labelling the leftovers with tape and sharpie, first with Rufus’s green bean casserole and Caleb’s stuffing. Pastor Jim was somewhere in the house too. Bobby had come early this morning to “help Beth with a case,” but really he just wanted a home-cooked meal. Beyond them, Sam couldn’t name a single hunter outside his family that he knew personally. He felt so exposed with his back to the party that he angled himself toward the kitchen doorway instead, skin crawling. An entire house hosting his family’s crazy secret. The thought alone was insane.

If it was just him, Dad, and Dean, Sam could contain the obsessive training, bloody bandages, and constant moving in their own little universe. But everywhere he looked there was a man like his father and a boy like his brother—even girls like ____. The pen he’d built for that side of his life had been battered open, and all the cattle had spilled out into the surrounding field. No wonder ____ always holed up in her room during these parties. Sam made a mental note to check around the attic for her soon.

Beth leaned out into the hall, parting the nearby hunters in her wake. “Dean!” She hollered, “Get your ass in here! Pie’s out in ten!”

An excited murmur bubbled out of the house of hunters, and a few more people chipped in to call for Dean, just as eager for pie. A few minutes later the lines of hunters filling out either side of the hallway parted again, this time for his glowing brother. Dean looked revived—at least in comparison to the last few days. Their lead in Michigan hadn’t panned out. ____ hadn’t once had a vision of Dad. If Beth had, she hadn’t shared it. Sam could tell that his brother was starting to spin his wheels, so even if he wasn’t enjoying himself, he’d been hoping some conversation and free food would boost Dean’s spirits a little. Either it was, or Dean was an incredible faker. He gleamed at the prospect of dessert, having spent the last few hours trading stories and making a name for himself. There was even a set of girl’s hands on his shoulders—but that was just ____, hiding behind him.

Sam turned back to his task and pretended he wasn’t looking at her, feeling curiously relieved. Regardless, she crawled out from behind Dean and raced toward Sam anyway, hiding in his shadow instead. “Lucky,” she told him, voice smooth and melodic, “Dean dragged me around on a fuckin’ world tour while you were safe in here.”

“That bad?” Sam guessed. He kept his voice low, so ____ tilted even closer to hear what he has to say.

____ just grimaced. Sam could fill in the rest. When people had first started filing in, the curious women and the rowdy greenhorns and the rough veterans, they’d all tried to coax a fortune out of her. It looked to Sam like they were all hunting for some truth. He’d heard rumors that people thought ____ didn’t have the Gift, period, which Sam could’ve laughed at. Her Gift bled from her every pore. It’d always been palpable to Sam, but in four years, it’d become the grandest presence in every room ____ walked into. How could a house full of hunters not feel it? Sam’s intuition was sharp, sure, but that was the mark of any hunter worth their salt. And he was already rusty.

She touched his arm, and Sam could feel her Gift tingle all the way down through his hand. Like always.

“It’s hell out there,” ____ said.

“Oh, hush,” Bobby scolded. He emerged from the hustle and bustle of the house, a six-pack in one hand and a plate of mashed potatoes in the other. “Havin’ a couple’a people lookin’ atcha for a little while won’t kill you.”

____ punched her fists to her sides. “Four people I don’t know have pinched my cheeks and called me cute. Four!”

“Must be agony,” Sam teased. His voice sounded hoarse, unused, and plain, so he cleared his throat just in time for ____ to tickle his side.

Sam jumped, but clamped down on the embarrassing yelp before it could escape. When he whips back to glare at her, she’s smiling devilishly, and the butterflies in Sam’s chest roast in a molten river of shame. He twists back to the tupperware.

After pie is served, the volume in the house goes down a few notches. Beth starts saying goodbye to people, but many more will stay well into the night, leaving a living room full of sleepy old men and drink-happy card players to fill the house’s strange natural silence. Dean plates some pumpkin pie for himself and forces some dinner onto Beth, who’s been on her feet the whole day. Bobby takes some too, letting ____ steal swipes of whip cream, and Sam digs into the food that’d been waiting for him for two hours now. They’re elbow to elbow in the kitchen’s retro dinner booth. ____’s thigh is pressed comfortably against Sam’s, and every once in a while their shoulders will brush when she collapses into giggles in her chair. He doesn’t think she’s aware she’s doing it, but her Gift greets him at every touch, glowing with easy happiness.

(She seems… she feels so good. Purifying.)

“—no, no, we all know who’s the favorite,” ____ was grumbling, eyes playful. “You’re mom’s, Sam is Bobby’s. Simple math.”

“Hol’ on, hol’ on,” Dean flopped back in his seat, wiping pie crust crumbs from his face. “Let’s be reasonable here. I’m everybody’s favorite, first off.”

Bobby and Beth made the same doubtful chuff, sending ____ into hysterics and Dean into outrage. He sputtered around his grin, aiming his fork at her as he talked, and ____ pushed up onto her feet to slam her hands into the table, rattling the silverware. Both of them are beaming and laughing and threatening to throttle each other. Bobby sniped at them to shut up and stifled a smile behind his bottle. Beth lounged back, exhausted after the events of the day, and took in the two bantering with maternal amusement. The rangehood over the stove threw a soft amber glow across the kitchen, but Sam felt like the light was passing right through him.

The year before last, Sam had gone to his first-ever Thanksgiving dinner. He didn’t count the years where Dad had fallen asleep on the couch, leaving him and Dean to eat KFC by lamplight, or all the years Beth sent leftovers. Sam was a determined pre-law sophomore. The rhythm of everyday life had become less of a song and dance for him, like it’d always been. Sam’s mind knew: run five miles to school, keep your head down, write a book report, keep your head down, run five miles to an empty home. It was hard, but he’d been starting to feel like life wasn’t a list of commands anymore. It was Jess. He met Jessica’s parents, he gave her dad a firm handshake, he complimented her mom’s cooking. That was what life could’ve been for him; more than expecting to die.

Last year, Sam had gone to his second-ever Thanksgiving dinner. Beth couldn’t send leftovers through the mail, so she sent recipes instead, and he called ____ again to ask her to visit. Again, she’d whispered, I can’t. Sam was a spirited pre-law junior. He’d shaken Robert Moore’s hand and complimented Amanda Moore’s cooking. He wasn’t exactly what they wanted for Jessica, Sam knew that. His past was shady, he knew too much of what he shouldn’t, and the microwave fizzed out when he touched it because he was so nervous. Still, Sam was spirited. He pulled Robert Moore aside and asked if he could propose to his daughter. When Sam temporarily forgot why he was hunting again, he reminded himself how much Jessica’s father must’ve regretted saying yes.

You were right there, Robert Moore had told him at Jessica’s funeral. You and your brother and your friend were all right there. They dragged you out, but my daughter doesn’t get to live?

Beth reached out and covered his hand. Sam bumbled off his train of thought, and landed right in the middle of one of Beth’s knowing, empathetic looks. It rattled him into hiding his face in his plate.

“All of you are my favorite,” Beth shook her head. “You’re all damn stupid, but you’re all my favorite.”

Dean pointed at her with his beer-hand. “See, now that’s just cheating. Pick one! Bobby could.”

Bobby exclaimed, “When!” At this, Dean gestured to himself, and Bobby rolled his eyes, “What? One of you two chuckleheads? Oh, please. Both of you should at least be smart enough to know ____’s my favorite.”

____, sly as always, made a point to cross her arms. There ya go, she gestured. Dean leveled his best cowboy glare at her, but it came across probably poutier than he would’ve preferred.

“Sam?” They spoke at the same time. Dean filled in, “Uh, you wanna weigh in on this, pal?”

Anything Sam could’ve said dropped out from underneath him. Beth’s eyes were calm and only observational, waiting to see what he’d do. On his other side, Bobby’s brow was furrowed at him. Dean and ____ were waiting for him to pick up his end of the banter, but Sam’s exhaustion weighed on him too fast for him to recover.

He stabbed some of his turkey. “Um… I think Bobby spoke his mind.”

“Exactly,” ____ enunciated, grinning. After a beat, the gusto in her posture drained away. She questioned Bobby, maybe putting on the doe eyes a little too hard. “...Unless you’re just messing with me to get to Dean?”

Bobby side-eyed Dean like that was absolutely his intention, but the soft hope in ____’s eyes, purposeful or not, gutted the grouchiest of old men. It killed Sam every time, so Bobby stood no chance. He squinted down at the remains of his pie and avoided her open gaze. “...You remember that time I took the three a’ you dear huntin’?”

“Which time?” Sam and Dean asked together.

Bobby waved his bottle at Dean, still squinting in thought. “It was one a’ the last times I took you, cause you were in high school by then… ____ was about twelve, n’ Sam was eleven…”

Sam did remember. He wasn’t as enthused about the killing animals thing as much as Dean and Bobby were, but there was a big detour between Dad's training and Bobby’s training where Sam thrived. It felt more like a choice. The drills, the sparring, the Latin studies. Bobby made it feel like it was something Sam had chosen. He still ruled with an iron fist, that was for sure, and Sam never forgot that things were life-or-death, but they had fun. Bobby made them lunch and they’d catch movies in town or frequent the local bookstore afterwards. They took breaks, and Sam tired himself out playing tag with ____ among the cars in Bobby’s scrapyard. It struck him that those were some of the last memories he had of playing as a kid.

It made sense to Sam why Bobby was joking that she was the favorite. ____ had always been his little agent, answering phone calls, fetching spell ingredients, and organizing books for him. Dean was better suited out in the scrapyard and Sam was better at copying Latin texts, so ____’s encyclopedic background came in handy. Sam was reasonably sure that ____ was the only person who knew Bobby’s deeper secrets as a result, like the codes to some of his lockups and where his supply caches were. Bobby and Beth were both centers of the hunter world in their own ways, so it was only efficient that they collaborated. Both of her parents were close with Bobby. He and her dad, Ray, had known each other since the very dawn of time. Sam had never pointed it out to ____, but he was sure that ever since her dad had passed, Bobby had made it his responsibility to look after her as best he could.

Beth’s face tilted with sympathy. “Was that the time she cried? I remember you telling me about that.”

“Hell yeah it was,” Bobby scoffed. He cycled through the film of his memory, playing it back for himself before he spoke. “So, I take these three deer hunting in the woods behind the house. All of em’ are in hunting gear too big for em—” Beth cooed at the thought, “—but Dean’s excited. He’s completely convinced he’s gonna shoot a buck, which gets Sam all cocky about it too.”

“This kid?” Beth clarified. She pointed at Sam, unconvinced. “This kid, who’d burst into tears steppin’ on the dog’s tail?”

Bobby nodded the affirmative. “Dean’s a shit influence.”

“You know it,” Dean winked at him.

“And this one—” Bobby jabbed a finger at ____, who groaned into her hands, “is whinin’ and complainin’ the entire walk out, talking about how cruel it is to hurt some poor, defensless animal, how it’s a waste of time—”

Dean’s grin glittered with meanness. “More like a waste of venison, if you ask me.”

____ removed one of the hands from her face to smack Dean’s knuckles on the table, and he was about to start a petty hand-smacking fight, if Beth hadn’t chased his back into his lap first.

Bobby continued, rolling his eyes. “Of course, these two devils are on her ass about it.”

Sam bit the inside of his cheek. He definitely remembered teasing her for it, probably only because Dean had been teasing her first. Since Dean wasn’t close enough to torment, ____ had to get her revenge from him instead, and gave his thigh a mean pinch under the table. Sam wouldn’t have hesitated to pinch her back just as fiercely, in the way that always made her shriek and laugh in outrage. But for whatever reason, his hands stayed in his lap, and Sam again suppressed the urge to look at her. She tried again; Sam swatted her hand away, and wilted a little at the playful smile waiting for him behind her fingers.

Bobby rolled again into the story, used to the constant interruption by now. “It was somethin’ she had to learn, she knew that, so I wasn’t about to give her shit for caring. Now, we’re out there for most of the day. The mother of all deer road trips must’ve been on, because we see ten, twenty of em’—and every single time, not one of the boys can hit em. ____ refused to.”

“I-I felt bad,” ____ shook her head, a sour taste in her mouth. “We’re monster hunters, evil hunters. Deers are just… deer. They’re beautiful. It didn’t feel right.”

“You gotta get used to th’ hard part of hunting somehow,” Bobby reminded. ____ exhaled until her cheeks puffed, like this was something she’d heard many times. Sam was certain he’d heard it just as much.

“Anyway. She kept refusin’ to shoot, every time they came around. I was getting short with her, the boys were egging’ her on, and finally she gets so pissed she just shoots. Kills a big ole’ buck,” Bobby held up a single finger, “with one shot.”

Beth whistled, surprise flourishing across her brow. “You’re kidding! That itty bitty kid? She barely came up to my ribs!”

“Yeah, that kid,” Dean grinned. He shuffled out of the booth to get another drink, but paused on the way to thunk his hands onto ____’s stiff shoulders with bouncy amusement. “Crying her brains out, mind you. She was shakin’ so hard she could barely lift her rifle. Weren’t you trying to get us to help you bury it, or somethin’?”

“Yeah,” ____ admitted. Her face was warm with embarrassment, but Dean’s teasing hands rubbed into her shoulder a bit and some of the tension there mellowed out.

Sam got a phantom feeling in his hands watching the exchange, like her Gift was tingling through them at the contact.

“Like I said before,” Dean raised his hands in defeat, “that’s a waste of deer jerky.”

“Which is why I was gettin’ pissed with her,” Bobby said. “But after I yelled at her, and Dean yelled at her… this mean, tough-ass little girl… drags this hundred-and-fifty pound buck all the way back to the house and buries the damn thing herself. Antlers n’ all. That’s why she’s my favorite. Girl’s thorough as all hell.”

Beth sat up a little straighter in her chair. “Really.”

“Yeah, really!” Dean snatched up a morsel of cold turkey from Sam’s plate. He cocked his hip against Bobby’s end of the booth, chewing. “Made us have a funeral n’ everything. We all had to go around and say something nice about the deer, n’ apologise to the deer and all of deer friggin’ kind. Stupidest day of my life.”

Beth’s laugh rang through the whole kitchen. She glowed with a peculiar, bright pride that seemed to melt ____ further into her chair, but deep down Sam could see that she wasn’t ashamed of the choice she’d made. ____’s eyes flickered up to his, then danced coyly down to Bobby’s plate. She swiped the last of the whipped cream off the debris there and boasted, “Sam read a prayer and everything. I am thorough as hell.”

“I expect nothing less. You’ve always been a real good kid,” she told ____, and the recognition was so earnest in her voice that even Sam felt flattered.

____ deflected the spotlight onto Bobby instead, nudging him with a clever elbow. “S’ real gooey of you to bring that up, you know.”

“Liquor makes me sentimental,” he deadpanned, and ____ burst into giggles. Sam’s ears tingled. “All I’m saying is,” Bobby cleared the fondness creeping past his beard, “S’ one thing to not give a shit - s’ another, to regret something and still follow through.”

He might have gone on to talk about being the tender age of twelve, and all adjacent bull, but Sam’s thoughts drifted too far away for him to hear them. Somewhere along the way he caught himself looking at ____. She’d worn a bandana today, and it suited the shape of her face… Laid back and relaxed, ____ looked just like her dad.

Sam didn’t drag his eyes away fast enough; ____ caught him looking. Like always, they hung there, Sam paralyzed in place and ____ holding her breath, just looking at each other. It had to have been only a second, but Sam took in too much of her appearance for it to be anything less than an hour. Her eyes were calm, open, and searching, in the way that usually made Sam feel split apart. Yet, understood. Acknowledged. The seam of his ribcage had opened, and she was sitting there with the scrub brush and the soap. She probably wasn’t even reading him, but the Proctor face was naturally piercing. Sam craved it. If those looks went on too long, he began to wish that she’d reach into his mind, into his heart, until she hit the center of it. Until she’d really seen him.

That was the problem here. All around them, Beth was laughing, Bobby was arguing, Dean was joking, and the party was spinning through every inch of the house. Yet he was here and she was there, and there were so damn good at looking at each other.

It was wrong. It was so terribly, evilly wrong, and it was all Sam’s fault.

He learned his lesson and didn’t glance her way again. In his peripherals, ____ deflated, but a while later Sam felt her hand appreciatively squeeze his shoulder. He fell safely into the background of the conversation, and every time he felt her eyes again, he reminded himself of Jessica.

_

CLARION, PENNSYLVANIA - Dec. 2nd, morning.

The Impala was loud and reassuring under your hands. It was hard to seep back into your own thoughts at the wheel; Baby wasn’t hard to drive if you knew what you were doing, but she was a bit longer than most cars were, making it a tougher task to wrestle her where you wanted. You’d needed the distraction all week. The boys could use some breakfast. It sounded like a good excuse, so you dove at the chance to drive.

The three of you had left your mom’s house without a single lead on John. Dean had tried to wiggle some out of the hunters at Thanksgiving, but all he’d done was put more attention on John’s absence than any of you needed. You got the feeling that more people looking for him would just send John further into the cracks, and after two months of searching, the boys were losing hope and you were losing focus.

Last night, you’d blinked awake to Sam having a nightmare. Dean hadn’t been back yet. It’d been your turn to share a double with his brother, so the two of you had fallen asleep watching court dramas, potential cases open on Sam’s laptop between you.

He always rolled onto his back and writhed, limbs thrashing out at the worst parts, no matter how curled up he’d been before he’d fallen asleep. It woke you up so fast that you’d ripped the laptop's chord out of the wall on accident, and like usual you scrambled to collect yourself. Sam had clipped you in the face before he’d come out of it. Pretty bad, too. You’d started to think that his dreams were finally letting up, after months and months of stress, but… this didn't just happen all in one day. Or a month. Or even in years.

You’d called his name in a sharp whisper. Sam. Sammy. You’re okay, you’re okay, you’d said, the words unfortunately routine. After you’d felt brave enough to enter his bubble, Sam collapsed sideways and woke up laboriously. Sweat had plastered his hair to his forehead and his Stanford shirt to his skin. A foam of apologies was already pouring out of his mouth. You’d forgiven him without a thought, caring more about getting him clear of the nightmare. Like always, you rubbed his back, helped him even out his breathing, and cooed mindlessly to him until Sam was himself again.

The first thing he did was rip himself away from you. Then, he dragged himself out of bed and stood there, shuddering in the darkness, and dug his nails into the collar of his shirt. You’d started throwing out ideas to cheer him up—food, water, a walk, something—but by then Dean was awake too, and Sam cut you both off by slamming the bathroom door in your faces.

The Impala slid flawlessly into a spot in your motel’s lot. You went through the motions of turning off the car and hooking your fingers around the bag of breakfast you’d acquired, but couldn’t bring yourself to open the door. The raw inside of your cheek throbbed where Sam had clipped you during his nightmare. You tested the pain with your tongue, still tasting blood. It’d probably bruised, or at the very least split open against your tooth. Damn.

You checked your cheek in the rearview mirror. A subtle red blotch had bloomed on your skin, just vibrant enough to warrant concealer. Feeling foolish, you rooted around for your makeup bag and peppered enough on to make it through Sam’s security checks. He didn’t need any more reasons to feel awful about himself. It’s not like he could control his nightmares, as much as he clearly wanted to.

You could hear the boys talking through the door after you managed to drag yourself out of the Impala. Sam had this drag to his voice that immediately set you on edge, and the timber of Dean's jut out the second Sam stopped speaking, prepared with an unwavering answer. You didn't want to interrupt, but you couldn't sit there and just listen in on them.

They were facing each other at their respective bedsides when you came in. “So, what? All this, it… never keeps you up at night?” Sam was asking.

Dean paused, bracing an arm back so he could twist to look at the intruder. He was facing away from you otherwise, making a perfect window for your brief eye contact with Sam to jumpstart your heart. You hustled your breakfast and keys onto the table with a bit too much adrenaline as a result. It was hard, training your irritation not to spike at yourself, or at him, because neither of you was really at fault. It wasn't Sam's fault you were nuts and it wasn't your fault that you'd ended up with these feelings. More than ever you wished your feelings would just go away; it'd moved from cute to funny to unfortunate very quickly over the course of your life, and now it was just plain wrong. You shook yourself—get it together, you freak.

Dean turned back to his brother and scratched his hair. It startled up in every direction except one, where his head had been laying. He shrugged. “Uh, no, not really.”

You felt Sam's gaze linger on you, gauging if it was safe for you to witness this conversation. Apparently, he decided so. “Really?” He questioned Dean. “You're never afraid?”

Dean shook his head. You weren't about to poke holes in his facade right in front of the person he was putting it up for, but it was stupid-obvious to you that he was bullshitting. His fear was there so often that there was a groove for it in the nape of his neck, where the hair there stood on end, and in his hand where his weapon sat. Yours was in the deepest pit of your stomach, waiting. If you knew Sam at all, his fear was packed down tight behind his teeth. Today, packed a bit less.

Unimpressed, Sam ducked behind Dean, wiggled a hand under his pillow, and produced one of his brother's bigger hunting knives. It was more than the height of two of your hands, and just as wide.

Dean snatched it back up, scoffing and puffing out his shoulders. The knife’s shape slid neatly into his palm. “That's not fear,” he waved the tip in Sam's direction, “that is precaution.”

“And impractical,” you threw in. Trading Dean a fresh cup of coffee for his knife hand, you turned his fist over so you could see the pads of his fingers. “Look at this! You've got all these little cuts because you keep that cleaver under your pillow. Just keep it in the bedframe, like normal people do.”

“Right. Normal people,” Sam muttered.

You gave his shoulder a playful pat as you passed him, and tried to be normal when handing him the tea you'd picked out for him. He didn't react much to either. Sam took his drink with quiet surprise, forgetting what it was like for those around him to know him and his likes, and sipped it without word. You were mindful of your place around him today. The bruise in your cheek ached when you spoke, reminding you at every word what happened when you took a role that wasn't meant for you.

“Thank you,” Sam hummed around his breakfast wrap, and Dean lounged back with a donut and sighed, “Yeah, _____, thanks for breakfast. Baby's good?”

“I took her through a car wash,” you reported. Before Dean could grill you about the how and where, you clarified, “—the right way, I'm not stupid. I took care of her, don't worry.”

Over your shoulder, Dean made a happy, approving noise around his donut. You gave yourself a mental high five. Earning privileges with the Impala had taken you upwards of eight years, so you were scrupulous with your upkeep, both with the car and Dean's approval. It was special to him, so it was special to you. And, it was one of a few confidences that you'd earned over Sam—you made sure to stick out your tongue at him just to rub it in. Dean rarely trusted his brother with his car.

Sam flashed you a small, wincing smile back that seemed distracted. You reigned in your disappointment before it ran too far. He'd been distant the last week, but you'd neglected to mention it, knowing the circumstances. It was an exercise in not clawing your throat open, since your second nature was to mend any and all wrongs among the three of you. You had to remind yourself that you hadn't hurt Sam's feelings and he didn't resent you. His girlfriend was dead and his father was missing. None of this was about you. If he wasn't up for joking, then it was your job not to push him.

You thunked down beside Dean, tonguing the raw inside of your cheek. “Cases? I told you I got a feeling we'd finally get one today.”

“No obvious ones so far,” Dean bumped shoulders with you. “Any word from your mom?”

“I’d a’ told you,” you shrugged and leaned into him a little bit, your own breakfast in hand. With nothing else to say, you ate in silence and enjoyed each other's company, lulled into idleness by the rattle of the winter wind.

Occasionally, you managed to convince the boys to have slump days. A rougher winter storm would be passing through your end of Pennsylvania anyway, so all the three of you hoped to do was layer up and laze. You shrugged on your favorite sweater, a heavier skirt, and dragged every game you owned out of the car to force some life into the two. Sam was of course a damn serial killer when it came to scrabble. But you'd forgotten it at home, so he murdered you at trivial pursuit instead, then left to read and nap. Typical. You gave him plenty of openings to tease you or gloat about his victory, but Sam managed to shy out of each.

You and Dean had lost most of the pegs for battleship decades ago. Still, you improvised by ripping and rolling up little pieces of motel-pad paper, then using them as hits and misses. After tie-ing with Dean three times, you ended up throwing paper wads at Sam until he got up and played poker with you; Dean cheated, you cheated, and Sam also cheated. As always. This was the familiar rhythm of your childhood.

Before starting another (honest) game, you took five to help Dean out with making dinner, starting by boiling a pot of water. Then everything went black.

Instead of a normal dinner scene, you woke up on the floor, skin burning, your mind abuzz and the pot of water smashed sideways beside you. Dean hadn’t even finished cursing before you emerged from the vision that had made you faint. You’d fallen right into him, which meant you cried into him as well.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry, m’ sorry, I-I didn’t mean to—” The tears were waiting for you when you came out of it, clogging your throat and nose fast enough to suffocate you. You choked. The sound seized, grating into an ugly and nasal sob. “Bad. Oh, Dean, s’ real bad this time.”

You tried to haul back the flood of words, to puke up anything but apologies, but the tears wouldn’t let you. Blazing liquid singed down your chin and limbs where the backsplash had hit you. It soaked into your clothes and Dean’s, since the first thing he’d done was steady you. Catching your breath was only made harder by what your Gift had shown you. Molten, purified hatred bloomed uncomfortably in the center of your powers, unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

“I know, I know. You’re all good, sweetheart,” he soothed. Dean peeled you away from him enough to get your boiling sweater off, his voice even and neutral, probably because he knew how embarrassed you’d get. His hands halted on the scalding water seeping through your tank top. A flare of uncertainty crossed his face. “You want me to help you or Sam?”

“Sam,” your breath hitched, and without hesitation, they switched places.

A towel pat across your jaw and belly in a few quick jumps. Sam appeared from behind it, brow crumpled with sympathy. Much after that was blurred by heavy tears. You remembered being confused that you were crying and confused that you were in pain, while anything else was forced undercurrent by your vision, seething and writhing through every conscious piece of your body with intent. The feeling wanted in. It pursued every crack in the walls you’d put between you, seeping. Violating. The burns barely qualified as first degree, but you sobbed into the crook of Sam’s arm like they were third-degree—fifth, sixth, melting you from the inside out.

When you could breathe around the leeching remains of your vision, you circled back: you were in the bathtub. Sam had put you in the bathtub. The water was lukewarm, because you’d fainted with a pot of boiling water in your hand and the burns needed to be cooled. It’d soaked through your sweater, skirt, and into your tank top. That left you in your bra and underwear, sobbing, searing your nails into Sam’s shirt, with your upper half glued to him over the bathtub’s edge.

“____,” he murmured. The familiar sound purred into your ear from the barrel of his chest, solid and grounding, a singer’s starting note. You wormed closer. The edge of the tub dug into your ribs, but Sam understood and squeezed you closer too. “Sh, sh, sh—you’re okay. Just a few more minutes and you can get out. We’ve got to cool those burns. You remember where you are?”

You shook your head. Tears squeezed down your face.

“That’s alright,” Sam said. One of his heavy, balming hands coasted through your hair, and even if you were sobbing, in your underwear, in a bathtub, and dogged by a vision, it was everything you wanted because of him. Your entire body sunk into his embrace. Sam was everywhere, his cheek on your head and his arms circled around you as far as they could manage. His warm breath fanned against your ear. Just his knuckles brushed the skin there, dragging down your face in a daze. It was so warm and uncomplicated that black psychic energy drained out of your pores just being there.

Sam swallowed. He hadn’t mastered his voice like his brother had. “You and me are in our motel room in Pennsylvania. Dean is just outside the bathroom, cleaning up and getting you a fresh set of clothes. You fainted helping with dinner—”

His name slipped out of your mouth in a sob. “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t want to make a mess and I don’t want t’ faint anymore n’... god, it was bad. I’m sorry, Sam. I hate the visions, I hate em’, I hate em’ so much…”

“I know,” he said, thickly. Sam’s knees thunked against the tub’s side, then his elbows, the wet tile squeaking under him. A long shuddering breath wrestled through his nose. “I know you do. But, one little spill doesn’t matter. You don’t have anything to be sorry about, okay? Not with me… Does, does anything help? With your visions?”

You reached up and grabbed the back of Sam’s collar.

“...Okay,” he laughed, humorlessly. The vicious chord of tension in his shoulders softened by an inch. “We can stay here for a bit longer, then.”

-

tags: @cookiemumster1 @lacilou @cevans-winchester @leigh70 @seraphimluxe @emily-roberts @emme-loou @dakota-dream

NEXT PART: phantom traveller, p.1

[2jaeh]

INSUFFERABLE l  KIM DOYOUNG 

GENRE: mature theme, slight smut

WARNINGS: choking, dom themes, cursing

asshole! Doyoung , enemies to ???

Words : 4k 

You’re put in a group project with the most annoying pretentious jerk your law class had to offer. Immediately Doyoung tries to boss you around but you being you, you weren’t taking his shit...soon enough he finds out he can dominate you after all...in a very different way. 

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

“Theres no fucking way...no fucking way” you groaned looking at your group project list, eyes narrowing on possibly the worst people within your course year. Slumping in your seat you half smiled at the girl who approached you, one of your fellow members from project hell. 

“Heyyy y/n I think we're in a group together” she grinned and took a seat next to you, flipping her red hair over her shoulder and checked herself out in her mirror covered cellphone. 

Dami was probably the most narcissistic person you'd ever met and being in law, it was definitely a common trait around here. Dami sat up and began tapping you on your shoulder frantically “He’s in our group! Kim Doyoung is in our group” the two of you watched as the dark haired man conversed with the lecturer, casually turning back to look at the table where you guys sat, in annoyance. 

“That guy is such a prick” a guy who slid in the desk behind you, Seungmin said and Dami nodded in agreeance as you all continued to watch him. 

“Ive never really spoken to him before” you cocked your head, “What’s so annoying about him?” 

This time another group member joined in, a quieter girl who normally sat in the back Jisoo, cleared her throat, “He is really bossy and only likes to do things his own way.”

‘Well he is about to meet his worst nightmare’ you thought knowing nothing pissed you off more than someone telling you what to do. 

The muffled conversations around you began to soften as you felt someone stand over you and drop a file on your desk. Looking up, you locked eyes with the one and only Kim Doyoung, dressed in his usual black slacks, black turtleneck and clear rimmed spectacles. He raised his eyebrow at you as if you were supposed to guess what he wanted.

“What ?” you challenged him, folding your arms across your chest and returned an eyebrow raise. 

Doyoung sighed in annoyance, his long slender fingers moved across the file and opened it swiftly, “I want you to do roll call” he said coldly. 

A lump formed in your throat. You felt like you were being talked down to, it was something that infuriated the hell out of you. He wasn't older than you, nor was he getting better grades than you but somehow he had a superiority complex. Dami quickly nudged you and you rolled your eyes, “Seungmin ?”

“Here!” 

“Jisoo ?” you placed a tick as you called out each name. 

“Dami, Jangjun…?” you looked around and noticed that the usually loud comedic relief in your classroom was nowhere to be seen. 

“I think Jangjun is late, i’ll text him” Seungmin sighed and pulled out his phone. You turned back to the roll call sheet and pursed your lips, “Kim Doyoung ?” 

Doyoung just looked down at you, sucking in his bottom lip and raised that damn eyebrow at you again. 

“You need to say ‘here’ do you not know how roll call works ?” you tested him and he rolled his eyes and sighed, “here.” 

You smiled to yourself, completely satisfied with pissing him off when your internal celebration was interrupted by an out of breath Jangjun, who threw his bag on the floor and took a seat on Dami’s desk. Doyoung looked at him disgustingly, and even though you too were obviously annoyed by Jangjun’s tardiness, was that reaction really necessary ?

“Be on time” Doyoung sneered and grabbed the roll call file making his way back to the lecturer. 

“Fuck Kim Doyoung is in this group ?” Jangjun groaned, sharing the sentiments of the entire meeting. You couldnt believe these were the people you had to work with for the week. It's like you could almost feel an outburst waiting to happen, whether it be from you or Kim Doyoung. 

Doyoung returned and took out his phone, not really looking at any of you as he spoke, “we should make a group chat to update each other on work”

The group hastily shared each other's details and Doyoung created the chat and pinned a set of three rules. 

The first was the group was strictly to be used for the project, no small talk or any other messages that weren't related to the project. The second rule was that no one talks about the group content in private chats as it will cause confusion among members. Lastly you weren't allowed to message after 9pm unless it was an emergency, a very serious emergency. 

“Dang is this the military ?” Jangjun snickered as Seungmin and Dami tried their best to hide their laughs. It was typical of people like Dami and Jangjun to not take anything seriously. Their families were well off and they were just studying just for a piece of paper you call a degree. Doyoung couldn't even hide his annoyance, not like he ever did but he seemed particularly pissed off today. 

“Look, just follow the rules and all of you get a free pass and then we never have to speak to each other again” Doyoung spat and made his way to the exit leaving the rest of you in utter shock. 

———

The first two days were utter hell as Doyoung tried to take control of almost every aspect of the project and frankly you didn't even mind because his business proposal was flawless, it was just the way he spoke to all of you that drove you insane. 

“Dami its not fucking rocket science all you need to do is make a clientele spreadsheet with the mock list the professor gave us” Doyoung didnt even lift his head from his laptop, unaware of the impact his words had on her. 

Dami pushed away from the desk and her eyes began to well up and before you knew it she was running out of the library, with Jisoo and Seungmin following quickly out of concern. 

“Nice move asshole” you rolled your eyes, continuing to work on your laptop. 

Doyoung peered up and pushed his spectacles up, “what was that?” 

“I said nice move asshole, do you intend to talk to your future clients like that?” He initiated a different kind of anger from you but you managed to keep your cool. Doyoung shrugged as if what he had said to Dami had not carried any weight and continued typing away. 

A few minutes of the members disappearance quickly turned to an hour and Doyoung’s nonchalance about the whole ordeal really ticked you off to the point of slamming your laptop closed and pushed back from the desk. 

Doyoung quirked his eyebrow at you, “Is something wrong ?” 

“Is something wrong” you mimicked him, “Jangjun hasn't come in today because you sent him on multiple errands, and you just made Dami cry over something so ridiculous”

Doyoung sat back in his seat and rubbed his temples, “They're all freeloaders, you and I are the only ones doing work, why do you care so much about them?” 

“Basic human fucking decency maybe?” you groaned and ran your fingers through your hair, “listen im not like them, i'm not gonna take shit from you”

“Sure”

“Youre a fucking asshole Kim Doyoung.” 

—-

You lay in bed and replayed that scene with Doyoung in your head multiple times. He was so unbothered by your antics nor did he care about anyone's feelings within the group. He was cold, heartless all he thought about was himself. His cold expression was practically engraved in your head, spending all these hours with him was really not your favourite pastime. 

Group 7 gc 7:00pm

KDY: I posted a schedule for tomorrow we will be working in pairs on the highlighted sections. 

You took a look at his document and groaned when you saw your name placed next to his. There was no way, no way in hell you want to work with him one on one. Not caring about breaking his rule, you pulled up a private chat with him and began expressing your concerns. 

y/n  x  KDY : 7:10pm 

Y/N: Hi, there's no fucking way in hell am I working with you. Change It. 

KDY: I said no private chats and no, I'm not changing it. 

Y/N: Wouldn't it be better for us to split and have the others actually DO work for once ?

KDY: I barely gave them room for error, we're going to be the most anyway and besides, I'd prefer someone who can handle...my personality. 

Y/N: …..so you agree..you are an asshole ?

KDY: I give people a reality check that's all..

Y/N: whatever makes you sleep at night...can I atleast choose our work venue because If I were stuck in a library again with you I might kill you. 

KDY: haha..

KDY: sure. 

Y/N: mango drop cafe, 10am. 

KDY: cool, see you then. 

‘Haha’. You had no idea why that text in particular riled you up. Did he find all of this amusing ? Was he making everyone's life a living hell because he enjoyed it ? You stared at his messages and somehow ended up on his profile picture. He was leaning against a railing dressed in all black with his hooded eyes concentrated on the camera lense, Your realization of how attractive he was came from the fact that you stared at the picture for a good 20 minutes. You wondered who took the picture, a girlfriend maybe ? You shook your head. He seemed too uptight to be getting laid. You sighed, closing your phone and awaited yet another day with the insufferable gorgeous man that was Kim Doyoung. 

You arrived quite early at the cafe but of course Doyoung was here before you, already typing away at his laptop, in his usual attire. You greeted the barista and placed an order for a chilled cafe latte before making your way over to him. 

“Hey” you said simply and took a seat opposite him in the booth. Doyoung’s ears perked up at the sound of your voice and made room for your books on the table.

“You're here early” 

“You're already picking a fight with me?” you said casually setting up your workspace. 

Doyoung chuckled under his breath and shook his head, “I just didn't expect you this early y/n it's not that serious.” 

You ignored his words and got straight to work, not in the mood to play his little game. You felt Doyoung look at you a few times. You weren't sure if it were to check if youre doing the right thing or he was just looking at you. 

“Well i'm done with my part” you stretched your arms above your head and yawned. 

“Yeah I'm pretty much done too, Do you want another cup of coffee ?” Doyoung offered pointing to your empty cup. You were taken back by his softer demeanor but quickly nodded, “uh yeah sure.” 

Doyoung returned carrying a tray of two fresh cups of coffee and a slice of cheesecake. Setting everything down he handed you the extra fork and placed the cheesecake in the middle of the table to make it easier to share. 

“H-how much do I owe you ?” You fumbled in your bag for your wallet. 

“It's okay, it's my treat” Doyoung replied, placing a piece of cheesecake in his mouth and slowly licking the fork clean. You gulped as his tongue darted out carefully licking the cream from the metal, not leaving any residue behind. You had no idea what the hell was going on but you felt hot, almost claustrophobic. 

“You're okay?” Doyoung asked innocently, unaware of what he was doing to you. 

“Why are you being...nice?” You questioned, knitting your eyebrows together as the man continued to act as if this was his usual behavior. 

Doyoung pursed his lips and placed the fork on the plate, “You want me to be mean to you?”

“No I just don't get-”

“I apologized to Dami and she told me she only overreacted because the guy she likes, Seungmin was there” Doyoung explained and removed his spectacles, “she was embarrassed to ask anyone for help, I paired them up for today.”

“Wait wha-”

“Also Jangjun works at the campus radio” Doyoung continued, “I had only found out the day we all met, I gave him tasks that will allow him more flexibility, that way he doesn't have to join group sessions often.” 

You blinked, unable to form any words in order to reply to Doyoung. Especially after he chuckled at your speechlessness, knowing you didn't bother getting his side of the story at first. 

“You were right y/n I dont have to be an asshole all the time, I just like to get my work done” He shrugged. You kept eye contact with him but somehow it felt as if he were still toying with you, waiting on your next reaction. He seemed like he played this game often, making sure he always had the upper hand. Doyoung seemed relaxed as he stared at you, taking another scoop of the cheesecake and slowly ran his tongue over his lips after his bite. What the fuck was he doing ? 

“Y/N ?” you heard a familiar voice come from the entrance of the cafe. Your attention diverted from Doyoung to the blonde haired boy who began approaching your table. 

“Jungwoo ? oh my God what are you doing here ?” You stood up and pulled him into a tight hug and pecked his cheek. Doyoung shifted awkwardly in his seat as he watched your exchange with the stranger. 

“I got off early from class about to go to Subway, are you still doing that group project thing?” Jungwoo looked over at your table and half smiled at Doyoung who tried to distract himself with his phone. 

“Uh yeah but i'm all done here I think, wanna hang out ?” you hooked arms with Jungwoo as he nodded enthusiastically. You turned around and scratched the back of your head, 

“So...uh”

“Were all done you can go, I have somewhere to be anyway” Doyoung smiled as you slowly began packing up your things. 

“Alright, see you tomorrow I guess” you bid your goodbye and headed out for lunch with Jungwoo. 

—-

You had just finished up your skincare routine and caught up with a few instagram posts when you noticed Doyoung had followed you. Sitting up in bed you scrolled through his feed curiously. Every post was aesthetically pleasing and he looked absolutely hot in every single one of them. He had to have a girlfriend right ? No guy posts pictures this good without women flooding his DMs. 

There was no harm in doing the same since he was in your class, you decided to return the follow and close the app. Suddenly your phone vibrated with a new message in your chats. 

Y/N X KDY  10:30pm

KDY: hey 

Y/N: aren't you breaking two of your rules right now ?

KDY: haha 

KDY: I didn't realize what time it was…

Y/N: ….anyways..is this about work at least ?

KDY: kinda… you left one of your books at the cafe. I have it with me. 

Y/N: oh… thank you.

KDY: no prob...oh I hope its not a problem I added you on ig

Y/N: no its okay we are friends I guess

KDY: haha I thought I was the insufferable asshole..

Y/N: you are...but not all the time. Look im sorry for saying shitty things about you. 

KDY: its all good. 

KDY: …….

Y/N: ..whats up?

You twirled your fingers as you watched the three dots from Doyoung pop up and disappear over and over again. What was taking him so long ? 

KDY: that guy….that you met at the cafe..is he your boyfriend ?

Y/N: Jungwoo ? no way we've been friends since high school.

KDY: oh..

Y/N:....why would you even ask that ?

KDY: curious. 

Y/N: curious about who I'm dating ??

KDY: A little. 

You frowned at your phone and noticed Doyoung had changed his profile picture to a selfie. The picture was..something alright. You bit down on your lip as you enlarged the picture, which showed a wet haired Doyoung with his head resting in his palm and his long index finger was placed between his plump lips. 

“Fuck y/n get yourself together” you gave yourself a pep talk before opening his chat back up again. 

Y/N X KDY  10.54PM

Y/N: fine if you can ask a question can I ask one..

KDY: go ahead 

Y/N: who do you keep thirst trapping for ?

KDY: ….haha thirst trapping ? 

Y/N: Yeah who do keep posting these hot pics for huh

KDY: …..

KDY: You think i'm hot ?

Fuck. Why did you word it that way. You groaned immediately regretting sending that message but something in you was so curious about him you decided to just risk it, what was the worst that could happen ? 

Y/N: well yeah, I mean I'm sure everyone thinks you're attractive, you seem to know it too. 

KDY: wow. 

KDY: I think you're hot too. 

What the hell was going on. You felt your face heat up and you placed your pillow in between your legs as you turned on your side. 

KDY: I was almost disappointed when I thought Jungwoo was your boyfriend, he's way too passive. 

Y/N: ...and what makes you think you know what kind of man I need ?

KDY: hmmm

KDY: first of, with that fucking attitude of yours..A dominate one. 

You swallowed hard as you felt a tingle in your stomach, squeezing your thighs together on the pillow to create more friction. 

Y/N: I could say the same for you. 

KDY: You may think youre dominate in many aspects...but when it comes to fucking..im the one in charge. 

God you hated how hot that sounded. He had you in the palm of his hand through text. You were a mess and he wasn't even the room to fuel it. You wanted him so fucking bad it was insane. 

Y/N: running your mouth doesn't equate to doing it you know...

KDY:.....

KDY: then would you like me to show you ?

Everything happened so damn fast. One minute you two were texting the next minute you were sharing your apartment location and Doyoung was on his way over. You scrambled to put on sexier underwear and do your hair, still in shock by the fact that Doyoung was on his way over to bang you. 

You jumped when you heard the doorbell and realized it was him. Opening the door you were greeted to a very different look of Doyoung. His hair was messy and reached his eyes. Instead of his usual black academic attire he wore a loose white vest that showed off his toned chest and arms, along with a pair of grey sweatpants. 

“Hi” Doyoung smirked, his eyes were dark as he scanned your figure. 

“Hi” you responded, leaning against the wall in the hallway and looked up at him. Doyoung slowly approached you, like a lion circling its prey. His slender fingers danced lightly along your body, drawing a line from your waist until he found your throat and wrapped his cold fingers around it. He bit down on his lip as he studied how perfectly his hand looked around it and squeezed gently, smirking after hearing a soft moan emit from you. 

“I want you to do as I say, any back chat from you will get you punished you got that ?” he brought his lips down to your neck and exhaled. 

You nodded in response but that wasn't good enough for Doyoung. You felt his squeeze on your throat once more and he used his hips to pin you against the wall, “use your words” he gritted his teeth. 

“Yes sir” you replied obediently, and felt him smile against your neck. 

“Good girl, and if i'm too rough let me know so I can stop okay ?” he replied, his voice changed and it was much sweeter and genuine than before. He placed a soft kiss on your cheek when you nodded and led you to the bed. 

Doyoung lay you on the bed, already stripping off his shirt and ordered you to undress yourself and rid him off his sweatpants. You bit down on your lip taking notice of how aroused he was when you palmed his member. 

Doyoung watched you through hooded eyes as you discarded his sweatpants and boxers. He softly patted your head and grabbed a tuft of your hair in order to make you look up at him. 

“Spit” he ordered, and held out his hand and you did as you were told. You watched as he lathered himself with it, moaning as he stroked himself. He was so damn sexy, biting down on lip and slowly pleased himself as you watched. 

“Do you want this inside you sweetheart ?” he cooed and placed a finger under chin. 

You nodded quickly, “Yes please” 

“What do you want me to do baby ?” He purred and hovered over you as you lay on the bed, breathing heavily as his fingers moved against your warm skin, tracing your curves, ghosting over your heat and returning back to your lips to insert a digit inside. 

Doyoung watched diligently as you sucked on his finger like the good girl he knew you were. He finally pulled his finger out and with one swift movement entered with his member before you could even respond to his question. You moaned as he quickly slammed his hips into yours, wasting no time in gaining a rhythm as you marked his back with scratch marks feeling as though you were on a high. 

Doyoung fucked you like a pro, wasting no time to switch positions and had you on all fours, slapping your ass before slamming into you again, that pretentious smirk forming on his face as he heard your whimpers asking him for more. 

“Are you ready to cum sweetheart ?” he asked, pulling you up as his strokes became slower and tugged on your ear with his teeth. 

“Y-yes yes i'm ready” you panted.

“What's the magic word ?” he growled as he grabbed your throat and slowed down his pace as you were nearing your climax. 

“Fuck youre so annoying PLEASE, please let me cum Doyoung fuck” 

Doyoung chuckled and picked up his pace until you finally climaxed and he followed shortly after, collapsing in the bed next to you. 

“You have such an attitude God” he rolled his eyes playfully, bringing the blanket over your bodies and grinned when you moved in to cuddle him. 

“I guess you will have to fix that some time” you yawned and wrapped your arm around his waist, “but I have to admit, maybe I do enjoy the insufferable Kim Doyoung bossing me around once in a while.”