#wanted to play around with the glow tool today!

[macehysteria]

He's such a good boy! 🦈⚡️

OC belongs to the amazing @elleinmotion!

Vi's looking a little crazy in this one but who doesn't experience a little cuteness aggression when presented with such a baby!

[mephisto-reporting]

Take A Break

About: You’ve been pushing yourself to the brink of exhaustion. Someone needs to step in and help you rest before it takes a serious toll on your health—or worse. Pairing: Reader x Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus (Seperate) Note: Reader and the men are not in a relationship yet but there is an implied mutual attraction.

XAVIER

You could feel exhaustion creeping into your bones, but your hands still worked, fixing up your equipment, mindlessly checking and rechecking everything.

“You should take a break.”

Xavier’s voice, calm and devoid of inflection. He was seated at the table, eyes half-lidded as if he could fall asleep at any moment. His usual expression didn’t waver, but you’d been around him long enough to recognize the care beneath it.

“I’m fine,” you replied, though the slight tremble in your hands betrayed the truth. You kept busy, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

He did.

Without saying anything, Xavier reached into his jacket and pulled out a deck of Kitty Cards, placing them on the table between you. “Play a round with me.”

You glanced at him, raising a brow. “Now’s really not the time for games, Xavier.”

He shrugged, his expression unchanged. “You won’t rest, and there is time until the next mission, so this is the compromise. Besides…” His eyes glimmered with the smallest trace of mischief. “I want to win this time.”

Xavier’s boyish charm peeked through his usual calm, and despite yourself, you couldn’t help but smile. He knew exactly how to get to you, and this was one of those moments where he wasn’t above using it.

“Fine,” you said, reluctantly setting down your tools. “But don’t think I’ll go easy on you.”

His lips quirked up. “I wouldn’t dream of it. But if I win, you listen to me and get some rest., Deal?”

Knowing how he usually was in this game, you confidentally accepted his deal. There was no way you would lose. As the game commenced, Xavier’s focus was unwavering. He played his cards methodically, and before long, he had amassed a considerable lead. You frowned, desperately trying to catch up. Just as you were about to make a move, Xavier leaned back, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Xavier!” you exclaimed, half-laughing, half-annoyed as he dozed off, completely unaware of the game progressing without him. You couldn’t help but shake your head in disbelief. The sudden quiet felt oddly peaceful, allowing you to relax for just a moment. You noticed how the soft glow of the lights illuminated his serene expression.

“Did I fall asleep?” he asked, feigning innocence, though you could see the way he fought back a smile.

You shook your head, trying to focus, but fatigue was making it hard. Xavier’s hand was steady as he played his next move, drawing the game closer to an end.

He was winning. “Looks like you’re distracted,” Xavier commented, his voice still soft, though there was an edge of teasing in it. “Maybe you're too tired to concentrate?”

You glared at him playfully. “You’re just lucky today.”

Finally, with a quiet triumph in his eyes that didn’t quite reach his face, he played his last card. "I win."

You exhaled, a sense of frustration bubbling up inside. “Alright, you got me. What now? Another round?”

He shook his head, leaning forward just slightly. His gaze softened, his unreadable expression giving way to something more sincere. “No. Now you rest.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Xavier cut you off. “You’re exhausted. I can see it. If you keep pushing yourself, you won’t be able to fight the Wanderers. You won’t be able to protect yourself. this is my win. You rest.”

You blinked at him, a warmth settling in your chest at the unexpected care behind his words. Xavier, the one who barely showed emotion, was looking out for you in his own way. You couldn’t deny it any longer. You were tired, so incredibly tired.

“Alright,” you conceded, leaning back into the sofa. “I’ll rest.”

Xavier gave a slow nod, his eyes softening further. “Good.”

As you closed your eyes, you felt him reach over, the deck of cards disappearing from the table. The familiar sound of shuffling filled the air, and though he didn’t say anything more, the steady presence of Xavier nearby was all the comfort you needed.

He had won, but in that moment, so had you.

ZAYNE

The makeshift hospital buzzed with activity, filled with the low hum of hurried footsteps and murmured instructions. The air was thick with exhaustion, tension from the recent attacks on the area palpable. You’d been at it for hours, taking on shift after shift without a break, ensuring that everyone in the hospital remained safe. Your body ached, your limbs felt heavier with every passing moment, but you pressed on.

There wasn’t time to rest.

Zayne was nearby, performing triage on the injured, his face as stoic as always. Despite the weight of the situation, he remained calm, moving with precise efficiency. His hands—deft and careful as ever—made sure each patient was stabilized, patched up, and prepped for whatever came next.

You caught his gaze for a fleeting moment, and though he didn’t say anything, you could see the concern beneath his composed exterior.

“Still standing, huh?” Zayne said, his voice low as he approached you, eyes scanning over your fatigued form. His tone, as usual, carried a hint of dry amusement despite the serious situation. “Or at least trying to.”

You shrugged, trying to shake off the weight of his words. “I’m fine.”

“Of course you are.” He raised an eyebrow, his voice laced with sarcasm. “It’s not like you’ve been up for nearly 24 hours or anything.” He sighed, his lips twitching slightly as if resisting the urge to smile.

You rolled your eyes, brushing off his words. “I’m not the only one working without rest.”

Zayne gave a short nod, acknowledging your point. “True. But there’s a difference between pushing yourself and running yourself into the ground.” He glanced around the ward before turning his full attention back to you. “Come with me. You’ve done enough for now. I’ve got something that might help.”

You hesitated, but Zayne’s insistence was always hard to ignore. “What, now?”

“Yes. Now,” he replied, his tone firm but not without warmth. “I’ll even make sure it doesn’t take long.”

He didn’t give you much room to argue. Without waiting for a reply, he placed a gentle but guiding hand on your arm and led you to a small side ward, one reserved for staff members to take quick breaks. You gave him a quizzical look, but he just waved off your concerns with a simple, “Trust me.”

There, on a nearby table, sat two sealed containers of food. It wasn’t anything extravagant. “Eat,” he said, his voice calm, but there was an underlying firmness that told you he wasn’t asking.

You frowned, stubbornness rising up despite the exhaustion. “I don’t have time to eat, Zayne. There are still—”

“Eat,” he repeated, cutting you off. This time, his gaze softened, a rare show of tenderness slipping through his usually stoic exterior. “You can’t protect anyone if you collapse. This isn’t a negotiation.”

With a sigh, you took the container, too tired to argue further. You sat on one of the nearby beds, picking at the food slowly. Zayne stood nearby, his arms crossed, watching you with what seemed like affection. After a few bites, you felt the weight of the day pressing down on you more than ever. You leaned back, letting the exhaustion creep in despite your best efforts to resist it. The bed beneath you was far too comfortable for your sleep-deprived mind to ignore.

You didn’t even notice when Zayne quietly removed the empty container from your hands.

“You’re done,” he murmured softly, his hand brushing lightly against your shoulder. His touch was firm but soothing, and you found yourself slipping further into the comfort of the bed. “Close your eyes.”

You blinked up at him, confused. “I wasn’t planning on resting…”

“Of course not,” he said dryly, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “But you are now. Doctors orders.”

Before you could protest, Zayne’s hand slid from your shoulder to your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin in a gesture so tender it left you speechless. “And if it gets you to rest, I’ll take a break too.”

Despite your determination, the exhaustion finally won. Zayne’s gentle touch and the warmth of his words lulled you into a peaceful surrender. You felt his presence nearby as your eyes fluttered shut, the steady rhythm of his breathing a comforting sound in the otherwise chaotic hospital. “I’ll be right here,” Zayne added softly, his voice the last thing you heard before sleep overtook you. “Get some rest.”

And with him by your side, for the first time in what felt like forever, you did.

RAFAYEL

You hadn’t seen Rafayel in days—not since your latest string of missions had taken you deep into the conflict with the Wanderers. As much as you tried to keep up with everything, exhaustion was catching up to you. Your movements felt sluggish, but you pushed on, determined not to let fatigue show. After all, you had work to do. Rafayel had a mission for you.

When you finally stepped into Rafayel’s space, his studio, he greeted you with a pout. "Well, look who finally decided to show up." His tone was bratty and haughty. "I was starting to think you forgot about me, Miss Bodyguard. "

You could hear the petulance in his voice, but you knew better. Beneath the teasing, there was always something softer with Rafayel, no matter how much he tried to hide it. He took a slow, deliberate look at you, eyes narrowing slightly, as if he was annoyed by what he saw. He noticed your exhaustion.

Not that he’d ever admit it out loud.

“I’ve been...occupied,” you replied with a tired smile. “I’m sure you’ve been managing just fine without me.”

“Hmph,” he huffed, turning his head dramatically. “As if I’d need you around to keep me entertained. But—" He paused, his voice dropping into a more playful, roguish tone, "It is terribly boring without you. I’ve been waiting for ages.”

You blinked, slightly taken aback. “So, what’s this mission you’ve dragged me here for?”

Rafayel hesitated for the briefest of moments, but then, with a casual wave of his hand, he dismissed whatever real task had brought you here. His lips curled into a mischievous smirk, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he leaned forward slightly. “Ah, the mission? Well, I’ve decided I need a muse for my next painting,” he said smoothly. “And you, my dear Miss Bodyguard, will do just fine.”

Before you could protest, he was already pulling you over to a plush chaise lounge, his touch light but insistent as he maneuvered you into place. "Lie down," he ordered in his typical, half-commanding, half-teasing way. "You’re far too stiff to inspire anything worthwhile."

“What? A painting?” you began to object, trying to sit up. "Rafayel, I don’t—"

“Shhh.” He pressed a finger to his lips and gave you a lazy, charming smile, as if you were the one being unreasonable. "Don’t move. You’ll ruin the masterpiece.”

Despite the flirtatious teasing, there was a strange warmth in his tone that had your heart skipping a beat. He made it impossible to argue, his words dripping with that roguish charm of his. Before you knew it, you were sinking into the softness of the chaise lounge, your limbs too heavy to resist.

"Now stay perfectly still,” he instructed, settling down with his canvas and brushes. “I want to capture you just like this.” His voice was almost a purr, amused by your protests but not letting you get a word in edgewise.

“Rafayel, I don’t have time to—” you tried, but he waved you off with that same infuriatingly relaxed smile.

“Tsk tsk tsk. I’m the artist here, remember? You’re just the subject,” he said, eyes twinkling with mischief as he continued to pretend like this was all part of some grand artistic vision. “Don’t ruin the vibe.”

You couldn’t help but scoff softly at his antics, but your exhaustion was winning. Between his teasing words and the comfortable softness of the chaise, your body was betraying you. The fight to stay awake was quickly becoming a losing battle.

Rafayel's voice was a soft hum in the background as he began to paint, each word drawing you further into a haze of warmth and comfort.

"See? Isn’t this better? I’ve always preferred my muses to be calm...and peaceful.” Lies. He knew it. He glanced up, his lips quirking in a knowing smile as he saw your eyelids drooping. “Don’t worry, Miss Bodyguard. You’re perfect just like this.”

As your consciousness started to slip away, the last thing you felt was Rafayel’s hand brushing against your hair in an uncharacteristically tender gesture. His bratty, teasing nature had softened, just for a moment, as he watched you drift off to sleep.

When you were fully asleep, he set down his brush, a satisfied smirk still on his face. He pulled a soft throw blanket from a nearby chair and draped it over you, his voice low as he spoke to your resting form.

“You really shouldn’t overwork yourself like this, you know?” His tone, for once, was gentle, almost affectionate. “I might not say it, but…I miss you when you’re gone.”

SYLUS

The small town was quiet as you finally made your way back, the distant hum of your motorbike in sight. It had been a grueling week spent battling through the Metaflux high zone and clearing out the Wanderers. The mission had taken its toll—your body was heavy with exhaustion, your muscles aching, but you had pushed through. You always did.

Reaching for your comms, you were about to check the latest updates when you noticed a shadowy figure leaning casually against your bike. The unmistakable silhouette made your pulse quicken. Sylus. He was dressed as sharp and intimidating as ever, his hair tousled just enough to give him that rogue-ish charm. His signature smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, like he was amused by your surprise, but his sharp gaze gave away nothing.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, not hiding the confusion in your voice. Even though he wasexactly the type to show up unannounced without a reason. And his reasons were rarely straightforward.

“Business,” he replied vaguely, the smirk never leaving his lips. He made it sound like it was the most obvious answer in the world. “Had to deal with something. But… I seem to have found something else worth my attention.”

Before you could react, his hand reached out, gently but firmly taking hold of your wrist. His touch was surprisingly warm but assertive, and with a deft flick of his thumb, he shut off your comms.

“You’re coming with me,” he said, his voice dripping with authority, leaving no room for argument.

“Sylus, I don’t have time for—”

But before you could finish the sentence, you felt the familiar tug of his Evol—his will imposing on yours. In a swift, almost effortless move, he guided you onto your motorbike, positioning you behind him as he took control. The engine roared to life under his command.

“You’ll thank me later,” he said over his shoulder, that smug confidence radiating off him as he drove you both away.

The ride was fast and purposeful. You tried to protest, tried to convince him to stop, but he was always a step ahead. His control never faltered, and your words fell flat against the rush of the wind. Sylus didn’t let go of the reins until the bike finally came to a stop in front of a lavish hotel on the outskirts of town.

“Really? A hotel?” you muttered, incredulous.

He didn’t respond immediately, instead using his Evol once again to guide you inside and straight into a large, opulent room. Everything about the space screamed luxury—the soft lighting, the plush velvet furnishings, and the enormous bed that took center stage.

Still reeling from the unexpected turn of events, you tried to stand your ground. “Sylus, I don’t have time for this. I need to get back, there are Wanderers—”

“They’re being handled,” he interrupted smoothly, crossing the room with a lazy, confident stride. “Luke and Kieran are on patrol. You’ve been running yourself into the ground for the past week. It’s time for you to stop.” He gestured toward the bed. "Sit."

“Sylus—” you began, but before you could argue further, you felt that familiar pulse of his Evol, urging you toward the bed. His power wrapped around you, persuasive and unyielding, as if coaxing your tired body to comply with his silent command.

Your legs betrayed you, and you sank down onto the soft mattress, glaring up at him as he stood over you, arms crossed, his expression a mixture of triumph and something more difficult to place.

“You’re impossible,” you grumbled.

“Me?” He raised an eyebrow, the smirk finally softening into something closer to amusement. “I’m not the one pretending to be invincible, sweetie. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, and we both know it.”

You scowled, but deep down, you knew he was right. The exhaustion clung to your bones, and the idea of resting—even for a moment—was becoming more tempting by the second. Still, giving in to Sylus felt like losing a battle you hadn’t agreed to fight.

“Look,” he said, leaning down, his voice dropping to a softer, more persuasive tone. “Let’s make a deal.”

You eyed him warily. "What kind of deal?"

He tilted his head, his lips curving into a sly grin. “You rest—just for a little while. Take the next few hours off. In return…” His voice lowered, taking on that smooth, almost dangerous quality he used when he knew he had the upper hand. “I’ll let you decide what you want from me afterward. Something I can’t say no to.”

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by the offer. Sylus never relinquished control easily, and for him to offer anything in return… well, it was enough to give you pause.

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch, kitten” he replied, his smirk widening just a fraction. “Think of it as a rare moment of generosity. You rest, really rest, and I’ll owe you a favor. Deal?”

You hesitated, trying to weigh your options, but the exhaustion gnawing at you was impossible to ignore. You’d been running on fumes, and Sylus—infuriatingly—was giving you a way out, even if it was wrapped up in his manipulative charm.

Finally, you sighed, giving in. “Fine. Deal.”

He smiled, that smug, triumphant smile that made you want to punch him and kiss him all at once. “Good girl,” he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he moved to the edge of the bed. “Now rest. I’ll make sure nothing happens to this town while you do.”

Before you could protest further, he covered you with a soft blanket, his touch lingering a little longer than necessary. His hand brushed against your cheek for a moment, his fingers gentle—almost tender, though he’d never admit it. “You don’t have to play the hero all the time, you know,” he said quietly. “Let someone else handle things for once.”

“You... really owe me a favor?”

He chuckled softly, sitting beside you on the edge of the bed. “I always keep my promises... especially to you.”

Before you could say anything else, your exhaustion finally overtook you, and the last thing you felt was Sylus’s hand lingering on yours, his thumb tracing a light, almost affectionate circle against your skin. You realized—just for a moment—that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind letting Sylus win this one.

Just this once.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

[glowettee]

✧ ˚.The Ultimate Study Guide: How to Become a Top-Tier Student ✨📚

Hi besties! 💖 It’s Mindy here, your resident study buddy and glow-up guru at Glowettee. I wanna talk about how to become a top-tier student this upcoming year without losing your sanity—or your vibe. Imagine sipping on a latte, surrounded by pastel notes and cute stationery, feeling like the main character of your academic journey. That’s the energy we’re channeling today. Ready to take your study game from blah to iconic? Hopefully these tips could help prepare for the second semester!

1. Active Recall and Spaced Repetition Hacks

Okay, so here’s the deal: simply reading your notes is not the move. You’ve got to make your brain work a little harder to really soak in all that info.

Active recall: Write down questions from your notes and try answering them without looking. This forces your brain to actually retrieve the information (and helps you remember it longer!).

Spaced repetition: Spread out your study sessions instead of cramming. Use apps like Anki or Quizlet to create digital flashcards that you review over time. Bonus: Anki is super aesthetic if you customize the fonts and colors. 🌸

2. How to Make Study Sessions Feel Luxurious

Studying doesn’t have to feel like a chore, babe. Here’s how to romanticize the grind:

Set the mood: Light a candle, play soft lofi beats, and wear your coziest silk robe. (Yes, the fancy one.)

Aesthetic setup: Use pastel highlighters, cute pens, and a clean desk space. Your desk should feel like a Pinterest board come to life.

Snacks & drinks: Treat yourself to something yummy like matcha lattes or chocolate-covered almonds. A chic study session is fueled by snacks, trust me. 🍵

3. Step-by-Step Pomodoro Method Breakdown for Focus

Pomodoro is basically magic for productivity. Here’s how to do it:

Set a timer for 25 minutes and work on one task. (Pro tip: Choose something specific, like summarizing one chapter.)

Take a 5-minute break after each session. Stretch, grab a sip of water, or scroll Pinterest for inspo.

Repeat four times, then take a longer 20-30 minute break. Use this time to dance around your room or journal—it’s all about balance.

🦢 ✧ ˚.Why it works: Breaking your tasks into bite-sized chunks makes studying less overwhelming and way more manageable. Plus, the breaks keep you refreshed and motivated.🦢 ✧ ˚.

4. Best Apps for Studying

Bestie, your phone doesn’t have to be a distraction—it can be your ultimate study tool. Here are my faves:

Notion: Perfect for organizing your study schedule and creating dreamy, color-coded notes. You can even add cute icons and headers to make it so aesthetic. (SPOILER!! I'll be making some soon for you guys!!)

Quizlet: Great for flashcards and testing yourself on key terms. Bonus: You can use other people’s study sets if you’re short on time.

Anki: Ideal for mastering those tough subjects (hello, bio and chem!). The spaced repetition feature is a lifesaver for long-term retention.

Forest: Keeps you off your phone by growing virtual trees while you study. The guilt of killing your tree will keep you focused, I promise. 🌳

5. How to Romanticize School and Make It Fun

Here’s the tea: school doesn’t have to be boring. Treat every class like a stepping stone to your dream life.

Dress the part: Show up like the best-dressed main character. Think Blair Waldorf vibes but comfy—plaid skirts, cozy cardigans, and knee-high socks are always a win.

Curate your supplies: Invest in cute stationery, a pastel planner, and maybe even a monogrammed tote bag. If it feels luxurious, you’ll want to use it.

Celebrate small wins: Finished a chapter? Reward yourself with a TikTok break or a face mask. You deserve it.

Shift your mindset: Instead of dreading school, think of it as part of your glow-up. Every essay, test, or project is one step closer to the 🦢 ✧ ˚.elite🦢 ✧ ˚. version of you.

Final Thoughts

You’ve got this, babe. Becoming a top-tier student is about working smarter, not harder—and looking cute while doing it. Make your study sessions a vibe, stay consistent with these hacks, and watch your grades (and confidence) skyrocket. Remember: You’re not just studying for school; you’re building the foundation for your dream life. 💕

Let me know how you’re leveling up your study game in the comments or tags! And don’t forget to tag @glowettee if you post your aesthetic study setups—I’d love to see them. ✨

Xoxo, Mindy/Glowettee 🌸

[bigfan-fanfic]

Tradition and Ritual (Male!Reader x Dean Winchester)

Could I request a full fic where Dean does the classic asking his bf's very approving dad for permission before popping the question? Just full, teeth-rottingly-sweet fluff.

Dean isn't necessarily dense. He can be pretty clever at times, though he's not a great wit.

But there is just some kind of mental block when it comes to your father.

Maybe it's his own awful relationship with his own, but he seems almost afraid of your dad.

This is despite the fact that the man is a total sweetheart, and has been your biggest shipper since you first told him you were going to ask Dean out.

Your dad loves Dean - he's always talking him up to you about his skill with cars at the machine shop.

When you and Dean got a place together, your dad has been super excited, certain a proposal can't be far behind.

"Daaaaad!" You protest, and he chuckles.

"What? He's an old-fashioned kind of guy, despite his past. I bet he wants Sweet Child O' Mine played when you walk down the aisle."

You roll your eyes. "Maybe we don't count my chickens before they hatch?"

"You mean your rings before they... get fingered? Nope. Not that."

Your dad chuckles at the weird phrasing. "You two going on another date later?"

"Yeah, he's taking me to dinner tonight."

"Oooooooh..." your dad teases. "Proposal alert!"

"Dad...."

"Fine, fine, just teasing. I won't blab to him at work, don't worry."

"Thank you." You say, smiling as you say goodbye as he heads off to the shop.

Dean is already there prepping when he arrives.

"Heya, kiddo." your dad grins at Dean.

"Ah! Sir."

"Whoa, you're jumpy today."

Dean chuckles nervously. "Yeah, I guess so."

Dean tries to play it off and leave his nervousness behind, but he's anxious all day.

He's clumsy today, accidentally dropping tools more than once and jumping when addressed.

Your dad is pretty concerned about him, and asks him to take his lunch break at the same time as him so they can talk.

"Hey, Dean-O. You doin alright?"

Dean sighs. "I... Look, I know I'm not a very... appealing guy, you know, for your son."

"Whoa, what are you talking about?"

"I'd be protective too, and I-"

"Dean! Dean. Calm down."

Your dad reaches across the table to put a hand on Dean's shoulder to steady him.

Dean looks at him. "It's... there's a right way of doing these things. And I... I love your son, sir. I really do. I know we moved in together and all, but... You have been so kind and welcoming to me, and... honestly, a lot more like a dad to me than my own dad was. And I just wouldn't feel right if I didn't..."

Dean runs out of words or breath, and falls silent, trying to calm himself.

"Say what you need, Dean-O." your dad says softly.

"I want to ask for your blessing. To marry your son. I was planning on proposing tonight."

"Oh my god!" Your dad jumps up and practically scurries around the table to draw Dean into a big hug.

The poor man is so stunned by this enthusiastic reaction, his eyes wide, arms hanging limply by his side.

"Kiddo, this is fantastic! Oh, god, he's gonna flip!"

"So, you... you're okay with-"

"Absolutely! You don't need my permission or my blessing, but I give it wholeheartedly. I'm so happy for you both, kiddo."

Dean tries not to cry, but his eyes are misty, and your dad isn't exactly unmoved either. It's something Dean has loved about him - your dad is masculine enough in his eyes to own and enjoy running an auto shop, but he doesn't feel ashamed at all about showing his feelings.

"I'm so proud of you, Dean-O."

"Thank you, sir."

"Ah! Ah-ah. You gotta call me Dad now."

Dean blinks several times, before he breaks out into a grin. "Yeah. Yeah, thanks... Dad."

Your dad is all smiles that evening when Dean leaves to go shower and pick you up for dinner.

But not as happy as Dean, who is practically glowing. He's about to join himself to you together, and even more, he finally has another father figure in his life who actually cares about him and supports him.

[lovehypegirl]

AUTUMN IN NEW YORK

synopsis: You're a first year at Jujutsu Tech and your mentor is Nanami Kento. You try to get the man to open up a little after a visit to the bakery and record store information: reader's technique uses firearms pairing: platonic!nanami x platonic!gn!reader WC: 958 warnings.ᐟ : none

Gojo had assigned Nanami to be your mentor in attempt to get Nanami to work more with the students

Honesty, he thought that you and Nanami were somewhat similar, calm and collected but slightly classy

I mean, even your uniform looked like what he wore. Your uniform was a dress shirt, suspenders, shoulder holsters for you handguns, dress pants, and Louboutin dress shoes (that you had bought with Gojo's card)

You had just finished up your mission at an abandoned warehouse and as the multitude of curses faded away after exorcism, you placed your sniper rifle in your case and your handheld gun in your shoulder holster. Closing the clasps on your rifle case you stood up holding the case and adjusting the shoulder holster.

Nanami stood to the side wiping his hands on a handkerchief of any blood that the curses spewed

"Nanamin!" you called out "are you ready to leave? We've cleared the area of any curses"

"Yes. We're leaving now" he answered shortly as he turned around. He placed his cursed tool on the back of his shoulder holster

You followed after him carrying your rifle case out of the dark warehouse

Nanami walked on the street side of the sidewalk and you walked on the building side

You squinted as your eyes adjusted to the light

"It's sunset already" you stared up at the sun with a smile "how pretty" you walked next to Nanami as you looked at how the golden glow rested on buildings

You turned to a window that so happened to be a bakery and you saw how the sunset softened your features and how Nanami's sharp features were highlighted by the sunlight in certain places

"Do you wish to go in there?" His deep voice asked, snapping you out of your thoughts

"Oh um...I don't wish to trouble you" you turned away from the bakery

"No matter, If your hungry then we can eat...you had a harsh mission today so it's best if you ate" he opened the door to the bakery with a ding!

You followed after him unsure of what to say

The girl at the counter greeted in a cheery manner

"Hello! You're back again!" she smiled (IT'S THE BAKERY GIRL FROM THE MANGA!!)

"Pick what you want" he looked over at you

You hesitated slightly unsure of letting your mentor spend his money on you

"I told you, it's no matter" he placed a hand on your shoulder "Pick what you want"

"Uhm...okay then...(favorite food)"

"Let's get that for her and...a danish for me"

"The usual then huh? Who'd you bring with you?"

"She's my pupil as of 2 months ago"

"Wow! I'm sure you're a great teacher" she smiled at you and you smiled back

"He is" you grinned as he paid for your food

He walked out of the store with you by his side taking your rifle case from your hand as he handed you the food he bought for you

You felt slight relief as you finished your food, you were really hungry but didn't want to bother him for food

You looked to the side as you crossed the street spotting a record store

Throwing out the wrapper for your food as you reached the other side of the street

"I can carry my rifle now, and you can head on back to the school. I wanna stop here for a bit I wanna buy something" you pointed to the record store

"Don't worry about it I'll go with you"

"But our mission is over..."

"The mission doesn't end until we reach the school safely. It's also getting dark soon and you shouldn't be out alone in the dark"

He placed a hand on your back and guided you into the store

The record store held a nice ambiance, Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald's Autumn In New York played in the background on a record

A young woman with short red hair sat behind the counter shuffling through records

"Oh, y/n! You're back"

"Yea, do you have any new Dean Martin or Frank Sinatra?"

"Yeah, we just got Songs For Swingin' Lovers a few days ago. Should be in the back. A couple of Sade came in as well!"

"Thanks!" you called as you walked towards the section she pointed to

"Do you come here often?" Nanami asked

"I do! I really like vinyl...y'see I collect 'em. I think my first was a Beatles record...I got it for Christmas when I was...seven? Eight? I dunno, but I also got a record player the next year, so I started collecting" you rambled on as you went through the Jazz C-D box looking for a Dean Martin record that you could add to your collection

"You collect them hm?"

"Yeah! I wanna own every album from every one of my favorites one day"

"...Who are your favorites?" Nanami had begun to go through a Crooners Classics G-H box

"Oh gosh, well I love Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Louis Armstrong, ect. The classics y'know? I really like jazz...but lately, I've been into Neo-Soul...I'm thinking that this summer can be the Neo-Soul Summer 'cause during the winter I listened to a lot of Jazz...." you trained off "...uhm...am I talking too much?"

"Don't worry about it"

You nodded slightly with a small smile "Okay um...have you listened to Sade before?" you walked over to the section where Sade's records were located

"I have not" he turned towards you as you shuffled through a box

"Here we go..." you pulled out a record and handed it to him

"This one is Diamond Life released in 1984 it's uh...nine songs...one of my favorite albums"

"Mhm.." he turned the record over and read the list of songs

"My favorite time to listen to Sade is in the evening...it really fits the atmosphere...and here we go!" you picked up the Frank Sinatra record to buy for yourself

"'Kay...I'm gonna get this one...do you wanna get that record?"

He nodded slowly "Yes, why not"

"Great!" you took the record from him

"I'll get them this time since you covered our food"

"y/n I am--"

"--my mentor I know. But this is my thank you for being a really good mentor to me. Uhm...you keep me...down to Earth in a way? It's nice having a level-headed mentor...in comparison to Gojo...who's head seem to be everywhere but his neck!" you walked to the counter and placed the records on the counter and paid for them

When you exited the store with Nanami you handed him the record

"Here you go Nanamin!" You handed him the Sade record "I hope you enjoy it!"

"Thank you, y/n" he accepted the record you handed to him "you didn't have to do that, you know"

"Oh I know! But like I said, I'm thankful for having a mentor who's head is screwed on straight" you smiled as you talked to him

He huffed out a small laugh at your statement

"While we're on the topic of thanks, I've been meaning to thank you properly for the sourdough starter. I wasn't expecting it as a gift but it was a wonderful one. How did you know?"

"Gojo-sensei runs his mouth a lot"

"That he does"

"My mom also likes bread and...she has a starter to she taught me how to make one. I think that people who like bread should make their own! 'Cause then, they can have it whenever they want. Plus it's nice to smell the bread you make when I wake up on Sunday"

He smiled "I'm glad. You mentioned your first record was the Beatles, yes? How did you go from that to Jazz?"

"Wellll the Beatles is considered Madchester which really isn't my type of music so! I began experimenting and found Jazz! My parents took me to a Jazz club and I swear I spiraled from there! I even began to learn the saxophone!"

"The saxophone you say?"

"Yeah! Sometimes I play at night since it's the only thing keeping me sane at this point...curse-killing really puts a strain on the physical body and practicing an instrument helps...it really does"

"You're the one playing at night..."

"...you can hear it..? I thought you didn't stay on campus?"

"I had to stay late one night to file a mission report that I had been holding off on"

"Well, I hope it wasn't a bother..."

"Of course not, Desmond Blue by Paul Desmond is never a bother"

"Oh you knew the song!"

"You play quite well it's easy to recognize"

"Thank's Nanamin!" you smiled up at him

He returned your smile slightly and pat your back as you both walked back to Jujutsu Tech

"Now, tell me more about the songs you know..."

You shared anecdotes about your favorite songs and artists, from the soulful melodies of Sade to the timeless classics of Frank Sinatra. Nanami listened attentively, occasionally interjecting with his own insights or questions, demonstrating a genuine curiosity about your musical tastes.

As you approached the school grounds, you realized how much you appreciated these moments of camaraderie with your mentor. Despite his initial stoicism, Nanami had proven to be a supportive and understanding presence in your life as a Jujutsu sorcerer.

As the conversation wound down, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected bond you shared over music. It was a reminder that even in the midst of darkness and danger, there were moments of connection and joy to be found.

With a sense of contentment, you and Nanami entered the school grounds, ready to continue your journey together as mentor and pupil. And as the evening descended, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you had a steadfast ally by your side

© 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀𝙃𝙔𝙋𝙀𝙂𝙄𝙍𝙇 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 | modification and translation of my works on any platforms are strictly prohibited

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

The Masquerade.

fictober masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - this was actually one of my favourite concepts to write, i'm not sure why but i think it was because of all the angst that it's filled with...

word count - 10.5k (sheesh…)

in which, your friend drags you along to a high school reunion halloween party, which you one hundred percent do not feel in the mood to attend, but his nagging doesn't hold off, so being the good friend you are, you give into his nagging. a shocking revelation occurs when your ex walks through the door who you as well as everyone else didn’t expect to turn up leading to a confrontation that's nothing but emotional.

trope: exboyfriend!harry

Teaching ten-year-old girls football has been your lifelong dream, a passion that ignited when you were just a child yourself. You remember the sheer joy and exhilaration the sport brought you, until that fateful day when you got tackled and broke your leg at the age of nineteen. That incident left you with an indelible fear of playing again, but it couldn't extinguish your love for the game. So, you decided to channel your passion into a different path - you pursued a degree in football coaching.

Now, as you stand on the field, overseeing a group of eager young girls, you can't help but smile. You see a reflection of your younger self in their bright eyes, full of curiosity and excitement. The thrill of imparting your knowledge and nurturing their love for the sport is immeasurable.

You've learned from your own experience that winning isn't everything. It's about fostering a love for the game and helping these girls develop both as players and as individuals. When they win, your heart swells with pride, knowing you've played a part in their success. But when they face defeat, you're not too harsh on them. Instead, you use those moments as opportunities for growth.

Your training sessions are carefully designed to balance skill-building with fun. You know that at this age, it's essential to keep them engaged and enthusiastic. So, you blend drills and exercises with playful activities that make learning enjoyable. You've seen firsthand how this approach helps the girls not only improve their football skills but also develop teamwork, discipline, and confidence.

As you watch them practice and play, you often reminisce about your own playing days, feeling a pang of nostalgia mixed with pride. Despite your personal setback, you've found a way to stay connected to the sport you love and make a meaningful impact on these young athletes' lives. It's not just about winning or losing; it's about nurturing their passion, teaching them resilience, and giving them the tools to succeed both on and off the field.

You're living your dream, not as a player but as a coach, and the smiles on those girls' faces when they score a goal or make a brilliant pass make every moment, every training session, and every challenge worth it.

As the final whistle blows, you gather the girls into a huddle at the centre of the field, the bright sunlight casting a warm glow around your circle. You can see a mixture of emotions on their faces, some tired but determined, others a bit disappointed, but all eager to hear your thoughts.

You begin with a smile, looking at each of them with pride.

"Alright, team, gather around!" you say, your voice filled with encouragement. "I want you to know how proud I am of each and every one of you out there today. You showed great spirit and determination, and that's what counts."

One of the girls, Sarah, raises her hand eagerly. "Coach, I scored my first goal today! I was so excited!"

You beam at her. "That's fantastic, Sarah! Your goal was brilliant. You showed excellent positioning and a great sense of timing. Keep it up!"

Mia chimes in, "Coach, I made some good passes, didn't I?"

You nod appreciatively. "Absolutely, Mia. Your passes were spot on. You demonstrated great vision on the field, and that's a crucial skill."

As you continue, you make sure to acknowledge the efforts of each player, whether it was a solid defensive play, a remarkable save by the goalkeeper, or simply the teamwork they displayed throughout the game. You want them all to feel valued and recognized for their contributions.

"Team," you say, "remember, winning is great, but it's not the only measure of success. We learn and grow from every game, whether we win or lose. Today, we saw incredible teamwork, and that's something we can always build on."

Sophie, one of the quieter girls, raises her hand tentatively. "Coach, what can we improve on?"

You smile at her eagerness to learn. "Sophie, that's an excellent question. We can work on our passing accuracy and defensive positioning. But remember, it's all part of the journey. We're here to improve together."

The huddle breaks with a round of applause for their efforts, and the girls leave the field with their heads held high.

You finish up with the girls' soccer practice, feeling a sense of fulfilment from a productive day on the field. However, you're also aware of the impending challenge of getting home, thanks to your recent leg injury. You remember that your best friend, Jamie, had promised you a ride, and that brings a sigh of relief.

You spot Jamie leaning against his car, a friendly grin on his face as he watches you approaching. His presence is like a beacon of support. As you get closer, you can't contain your excitement and rush over to him, throwing your arms around him in a bone-crushing hug.

"Jamie!" you exclaim, your voice filled with genuine joy. "It's so good to see you! How was your holiday?"

Jamie returns the hug with enthusiasm, his voice laced with excitement. "Oh, it was amazing! You wouldn't believe the places I got to explore and the food I got to try. But honestly, I've missed you so much!"

You step back from the hug, both of you wearing wide smiles. "I missed you too, buddy. And thanks a million for coming to pick me up. You're a lifesaver."

Jamie chuckles, giving you a playful nudge. "No problem at all, mate. That's what best friends are for, right? Let's get you home comfortably."

As you both hop into the car, the conversation flows effortlessly. You catch up on the latest news, sharing stories and laughter like you always do. The car ride feels like a warm reunion, and you can't help but be grateful for having such a dependable and caring friend like Jamie.

As the car ride continues, Jamie glances over at you with curiosity. "So, what are your plans for tonight?"

You lean back in the comfortable car seat, enjoying the familiarity of the conversation.

"Well," you start, "first things first, I need to head home and have a quick shower. I've been running around with the girls all afternoon, and I must be a bit of a mess."

Jamie chuckles, understanding the need for a post-practice refresh. "Sounds like a plan. And then?"

You smile, thinking about your precious daughter. "After the shower, it's time to drop Lilah off at her dad's place. She's with my sister right now."

Jamie nods, his eyes reflecting empathy. "How's she doing these days?"

You sigh, a mix of emotions flooding over you. "She's growing up so fast, Jamie. Four years old already, and she's as curious and energetic as ever. It's a bit tough juggling everything, but it's all worth it for her."

Delilah Rae (Y/L/N)-Cooper.

When you were twenty five, to celebrate the new year you had gone out with Jamie, his boyfriend as well as your sister, the four of you had gone up London to see the fireworks at the Thames.

That was where you met Levi Cooper.

The two of you spent the night together after both of you had a bit too much to drink at the club, you kept catching each other's eyes from across the rooms, his blue coloured eyes locking onto yours and the rest was history.

The two of you did keep in touch after your impromptu meeting, well you suppose you had to seeing as you were having his baby. The one night you spent together had given the two of you an eighteen year commitment.

He was shocked at first that you were pregnant, but he was nothing but supportive, every prenatal class he was by your side, every scan he was sat at the side of the bed and when your waters broke and you gave birth to a beautiful baby girl he sobbed.

The two of you did try to date, but it just seemed that the two of you were just better at being friends.

He was engaged now to a lovely women named Eloise.

Jamie gives you a supportive pat on the shoulder. "You're an amazing parent, you know that, right?"

You blush a little at the compliment. "Thanks, J. I'm just trying to do my best for her."

As the car ride with Jamie continues, he leans over with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Hey, guess what? The high school reunion is tonight!"

You immediately shake your head with a firm resolve. "No way, Jamie. I'm not going to that."

Jamie raises an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Oh, come on! It could be a blast. We haven't seen some of those folks in ages!"

You let out a sigh, knowing that Jamie won't easily accept your refusal. "Jamie, there's really no reason for me to go. I've moved on from all that high school drama."

He grins, persistent in his efforts. "But it's a chance to catch up, see where everyone ended up, share stories..."

You shoot him a knowing look. "Jamie, we've got Facebook for that. Besides, I'm perfectly content with my life now."

Jamie continues to plead, "Think of the nostalgia, the old memories..."

You chuckle, shaking your head again. "Nostalgia isn't enough to make me want to relive those awkward teenage years, Jamie."

He's not giving up easily, leaning closer and trying a different approach. "What if I promise to be your wingman all night?"

You raise an eyebrow in mock disbelief. "And what, introduce me to every person there as 'the one who didn't want to come'?"

You arrive home with Jamie, your key poised to open the door. You're eager to see your precious daughter, Delilah, who's been anxiously waiting for your return after her day with your sister. The door swings open, and before you can even step inside, you hear the pattering of little feet.

"Mommy!" Delilah exclaims, her face lighting up with pure joy as she runs straight into your open arms.

You scoop her up, her tiny arms wrapping tightly around your neck, and you pepper her face with a thousand kisses. "Oh, my sweet Lilah-bug, I missed you so much!"

Delilah giggles, her laughter filling the room. "I missed you too, Mommy!"

Jamie watches the heartwarming reunion with a smile, his eyes filled with warmth and happiness.

"Hey, Delilah," he says, crouching down to her level. "I missed you too."

Delilah looks at Jamie with curiosity, her innocent eyes studying him for a moment before breaking into a shy smile. "Hi, JJ!”

As you enjoy the family reunion with Delilah and Jamie, your sister Abigail walks into the room with a warm smile. "Hey, how was your day?"

You return her smile. "It was good, Abi. The footy practice went well, and now I'm just happy to be home."

Abigail looks at Jamie with a playful grin. "And what about you, Jamie? How have you been?"

Jamie chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "Well, it was a lot of travelling, but it's all worth it to spend time with these two."

You nods in agreement, then turns you attention to Delilah. "So, sweetheart, what did you and Auntie Abigail do today?"

Delilah's eyes light up with excitement. "We played in the park, and Auntie Abigail pushed me on the swings really high! It was so much fun!"

Abigail laughs, ruffling Delilah's hair affectionately. "That's right, we had a blast at the park. And afterward, we baked some delicious cookies, didn't we?"

Delilah nods vigorously. "Yep! I helped mix the dough, and we even had chocolate chips in them!"

You all gather in the cosy living room, Delilah on your lap, her blonde curly hair tickling your fingers as you brush through it. Abigail breaks the comfortable silence with a practical question, "So, what time does Lilah need to be at Levi's?"

You glance at your watch and reply, "Half past six should be good."

Jamie, ever the talkative one, chimes in enthusiastically, "Perfect! That works because the reunion starts at seven!"

Abigail's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. " reunion? What are you talking about?"

You roll your eyes playfully at Jamie, thinking he's just teasing. "He's talking rubbish, as usual."

But Jamie jumps in again, this time with a more serious tone. "No, seriously, there's a school reunion tonight."

Abigail looks genuinely surprised. "A school reunion? Why wasn't I informed?"

You sigh, not thrilled with the idea. "Honestly, I'd rather just sit at home and relax."

Abigail, ever the one to push you out of your comfort zone, raises an eyebrow. "Come on, it might be fun! You need a good night out."

You let out a reluctant sigh, knowing your sister's right. "Alright, fine, we'll think about it."

Abigail's eyes twinkle mischievously. "Who knows, you might even rekindle something with a certain someone."

You give her a knowing look, realising exactly who she's referring to. "Abigail, we broke up in high school. It's been ages."

Jamie joins in with a laugh. "You never know, sparks might fly."

In the midst of the bustling high school hallway, you stand at your locker, neatly organising your books for the next class. The sound of lockers slamming and laughter fills the air, creating a lively atmosphere.

Suddenly, you feel two warm arms wrap around your waist from behind, and the familiar scent of Harry Styles' aftershave instantly captures your senses.

With a playful giggle, you turn your head to the side, your eyes meeting his.

"Well, hello there, Mr. Styles," you tease, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.

Harry's emerald green eyes twinkle mischievously as he leans in closer. "Couldn't resist sneaking up on you, m’darlin’. Y’look t’cute sorting y’books."

You blush at the compliment, playfully batting your eyelashes. "Flattery will get you everywhere, you know."

Harry's lips brush against your earlobe as he whispers, "Everywhere, y’say? might have t’take advantage ‘f’that."

You can't help but laugh, your heart swelling with affection for the charming boy who has stolen your heart. "Harry Styles, you're incorrigible."

He grins, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on your cheek. "Only when it comes to you, babe."

/ /

Harry stood in his cosy kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air as he watched the snow gently fall outside the window. It had been a while since he'd seen Ellis, his best mate from high school, and he was glad for the company on this chilly day.

They had grabbed coffee together in the morning, before deciding to have a little walk around the twin they both grew up in.

Ellis sipped her own coffee and leaned against the kitchen counter, looking thoughtful. "you remember the school reunion is tonight, right? What time is it starting?"

Harry stirred his coffee, a pensive expression on his face. "Ye’, m’remember. S’supposed t’be at seven, but m’not sure if m’gonna go."

Ellis raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Not going? Why not?"

Harry sighed, his gaze distant as he remembered the old days. "I don't know, El. S’been ages since I've seen those people. M’not sure I'll fit in anymore."

Ellis chuckled, taking another sip of her coffee. "Mate, you're Harry Styles. You could fit in anywhere."

Harry gave a small smile but still seemed uncertain. "S’not about fitting in, really. S’just... v’moved on from that time in m’life, y’know?"

Ellis nodded in understanding. "I get it, Haz. But it could be fun to catch up, see how everyone's doing."

Harry considered his friend's words. "Yeah, maybe. We'll see."

As the snow continued to fall outside, Harry contemplated the idea of attending the high school reunion. It was a chance to reconnect with old friends and revisit memories, but he couldn't help but wonder if he'd truly find his place in a world that had changed so much since those school days.

You sit in your cozy bedroom, the soft glow of natural light filtering in through the curtains, as you prepare to apply your makeup. Your vanity mirror reflects your anticipation, and you're ready to transform your look for the day.

With a steady hand, you pick up your favorite foundation and begin to blend it evenly across your skin, creating a flawless canvas. As you work, you can't help but appreciate the therapeutic rhythm of the makeup application process.

Next, your eyes catch the eyeshadow palette you've chosen for today's look. With precision, you carefully sweep the hues across your eyelids, creating a captivating blend of colors that complements your style.

You reach for your mascara, preparing to enhance your lashes, making your eyes pop and adding a touch of allure to your gaze. Each stroke brings you one step closer to the final result you envision.

A hint of blush adds a healthy flush to your cheeks, while a sweep of your favorite lipstick completes your look. You can't help but smile as you admire the transformation you've achieved, feeling confident and ready to take on the day.

Your boyfriend at the time, is lounging on your bed, wearing nothing but his boxers. It's one of those mornings after he stayed over, and you're getting ready for school, sitting at your vanity and applying makeup.

As you focus on your makeup routine, you can't help but hear Harry huffing behind you. You ignore it at first, thinking it's just one of his playful quirks. But when he huffs again, you can't help but turn and ask, "What's your issue, Harry?"

He shifts on the bed, looking earnestly at you. "Y’don't need makeup, y’know. Y’already beautiful."

You smile, appreciating his sentiment. "Thanks, baby. But makeup just makes me feel better about myself."

He's not willing to let it go, and he comes up behind you, draping his arms over your shoulders and leaning down so both of you are in view of the vanity mirror. "Seriously, y’don't need it. Y’stunning without it."

You meet his gaze in the mirror, his green eyes filled with genuine affection.

He takes a makeup wipe from your vanity, turning your chair around so that you're facing him. With a slow, deliberate motion, he starts wiping away the makeup from your face. His touch is gentle, and his eyes never leave yours.

As the last traces of makeup disappear, he smiles softly. "See, there y’are, just as beautiful as I knew y’be."

You can't help but laugh, appreciating his effort to make you feel special.

He presses a loving kiss to your forehead, his arms still wrapped around you. "And that's why I love you."

Just as you're finishing up, your daughter, with her unruly curls and a cheeky smile that reminds you so much of her father, rushes into the room. She stands at your side, her eyes wide with curiosity.

You scoop her up and place her on your lap, where she traces the outline of your lipstick with her tiny finger before gently tracing the eyeliner around your eyes.

With a tilt of her head, Delilah grins mischievously. "Mummy, you don't need makeup."

Her words strike a chord deep within you, reminding you of a time long ago when a certain someone had said the same thing. A sense of déjà vu washes over you, and you can't help but smile at the memory.

You ask her, "Why do you say that, sweetheart?"

Delilah looks up at you with those big, innocent eyes. "Because you're beautiful."

As Delilah kisses your nose, you can't help but smile at her sweet gesture.

Levi, her father, may not be present at this moment, but you're grateful for the strong co-parenting relationship you have, which allows Delilah to feel loved and secure.

However, as Delilah's innocent words about your beauty echo in your mind, you can't shake the feeling of déjà vu, reminiscent of your first love, Harry Styles. Your heart aches at the memory of the deep connection you once shared with him, even though you're no longer together.

As you make your way down the stairs, Jamie is waiting for you, dressed in a sharp suit and a warm smile.

Jamie had offered to drive you to Levi's, knowing that your heels might not be the best for walking. He greets you with a friendly grin and says, "Looking stunning, as always."

The dress that Jamie had picked out of your closet was an emerald green one that hugged your body in all the right places. You didn’t exactly know what the colour theme for the Masquerade party was, but you trusted your best friend with his decisions.

You chuckle and adjust Delilah in your arms. "Thanks, J. And thanks for the lift. It's much appreciated."

Delilah, clutching her beloved bunny, looks up at Jamie with a bright smile. "Hi, JJ!"

Jamie leans in and ruffles her hair playfully. "Hey DD. Are you ready to have some fun with your dad?"

Delilah nods eagerly, her excitement contagious. You feel a pang of nostalgia thinking about the family dynamics that have evolved over the years.

The three of you leave the front door behind, the night sky gently illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights. You carefully place Delilah in the car seat that Jamie has in his car, a familiar seat from their countless playdates together. Her eyes are droopy, the weight of a busy day finally catching up to her. You press a loving kiss to her forehead before making your way to the passenger front seat.

Jamie takes the wheel, and the car pulls out of the driveway, embarking on the journey to Levi's place. The cityscape passes by in a blur of lights, creating a serene backdrop to the silent drive. The gentle hum of the engine and the occasional soft lullaby playing on the radio are the only sounds that fill the car.

Delilah's eyelids grow heavier with each passing mile, her breathing steady as she drifts into a peaceful slumber. You glance over at her, a feeling of warmth and contentment washing over you as you watch your daughter sleep, knowing that you're on your way to reunite her with her father. The car moves steadily through the quiet night, a soothing rhythm that lulls you into your own thoughts

As Jamie pulls the car to a stop outside Levi's house, you turn to him and explain, "I'll just five minutes. I need to get her sorted."

Jamie nods in understanding, giving you an assuring smile. "Take your time. I'll wait right here."

You unbuckle your sleeping daughter from her car seat, noticing how her head has lulled to the side, and her tiny thumb has found its way to her mouth. Gently, you lift her into your arms, making sure not to jostle her. She snuggles closer to you, still lost in the embrace of a deep slumber.

Carefully, you shut the car door behind you as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb her peaceful rest. With Delilah cradled on your hip, you make your way towards Levi's house,

You stop outside Levi's front door, taking a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. You wait patiently, giving it a minute and a half before the door finally swings open. Levi stands there, leaning against the door frame, a smile of genuine warmth spreading across his face as he sees the two of you.

His eyes light up when he notices Delilah fast asleep in your arms. He reaches out to take her gently, pressing a loving kiss to her forehead. Delilah instinctively snuggles in closer to his neck, her tiny thumb still in her mouth.

Levi, cradling her in his arms, starts to sway his hips back and forth, a nostalgic smile on his face as if she were a baby all over again. He whispers, "Hey, little one, how long have you been asleep?"

You reply with a soft chuckle, "She fell asleep on the car ride over."

Levi continues to sway, his voice filled with tenderness. "Oh, my sweet girl. I've missed you so much."

Levi smiles as he looks at you and compliments your dress, "You look beautiful in that dress. Are you heading somewhere nice tonight?"

You chuckle, knowing that he's well aware of your reluctance. "Jamie's dragging me to a school reunion."

Levi laughs in response. "Ah, I see. Well, you'll survive, I'm sure."

You smile and then turn your attention to Delilah, who's fussing in his arms, shifting her head from one side to the other. Leaning forward, you press a soft kiss to her nose and whisper, "I love you, sweetie."

Looking back at Levi, you speak with genuine concern, "If she needs me or anything happens, don't hesitate to call, okay?"

Levi nods with understanding. "Of course, you know I will. Have a good time tonight, and we'll see you on Sunday when you pick her up."

With that, you reluctantly leave Delilah in Levi's care, trusting that they will have a wonderful weekend together while you attend the reunion with Jamie.

You make your way over to Jamie's waiting car and get inside, letting out a deep sigh as you settle into the seat. You turn to him and say with a hint of resignation, "Let's just get this over with, Jamie. Drive, please."

As the engine revs to life, you brace yourself for the upcoming school reunion, knowing that it's not exactly your idea of a fun evening.

Harry stands outside the school, his eyes fixed on the familiar building that holds a lifetime of memories. As he gazes at the entrance, a million images flood his mind, and they all seem to revolve around you.

He remembers the day he mustered up the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend, his heart pounding in his chest as he nervously stammered out the question. It was a moment of pure happiness when you said yes, and he couldn't stop grinning for days.

Then, there's that vivid memory of the night he finally confessed his love for you, the words tumbling out of his mouth in a rush, afraid he might lose you if he didn't say it right then. Your eyes had sparkled with joy, and you'd hugged him tightly, saying you loved him too.

But there's also the painful memory, the one he's tried to push to the back of his mind for so long. The day he didn't turn up, the day he walked out of your life, leaving you none the wiser about the future that awaited him. It had been the hardest decision he'd ever made, but he believed it was the only way to chase his dreams.

His best mate, Ellis, notices his distant demeanor and approaches him with concern. She furrows her brows and asks, "Haz, everything okay?"

He takes a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of nostalgia that has settled upon him. "Do y’think she'll be ‘ere?"

Ellis studies him, her expression a mix of sympathy and uncertainty. "I'm not sure, Haz. She's hardly kept in touch with anyone since you left. She's started a whole new life."

Harry's heart aches at the reality of it all. The years that have passed, the choices he's made – they've all taken a toll on the life he once shared with you. It's a stark reminder of the chasm that has grown between them, and he can't help but feel a profound sense of regret.

As he stands there, Ellis places a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Look, Haz, I know this is tough, but it's been years. People change, life moves on. Maybe it's time for both of you to see where you stand now."

Harry knows she's right, but the uncertainty gnaws at him. The thought of facing you after all this time, not knowing what to expect, fills him with anxiety. He's haunted by the memories of his past decisions – the day he walked away, the day he left you behind, oblivious to the superstar journey that awaited him.

His gaze remains fixed on the school's entrance, a mixture of hope and trepidation swirling within him. Deep down, he yearns for a chance to reconnect, to make amends for the pain he may have caused.

But as the minutes tick by, the fear that you've truly moved on and created a new life without him intensifies. Harry can't help but wonder if he's about to face the consequences of the choices he made long ago – choices that have left him with an overwhelming sense of longing and regret.

A sea of people surrounds him. The reunion is in full swing, and the familiar faces of former classmates and friends fill the courtyard. Laughter and chatter echo in the air, mingling with the strains of music playing softly in the background.

Groups of friends huddle together, sharing stories and reminiscing about their school days. Some are holding photographs, while others exchange yearbooks, a tangible link to their shared past.

Brightly lit string lights and decorations adorn the outdoor area, casting a warm and inviting glow over the gathering. Tables are set up with snacks and drinks, a makeshift bar where people gather to toast to old memories and new beginnings.

A live band plays a familiar tune, setting a nostalgic backdrop for the evening. Couples dance under the moonlit sky, their movements graceful and sentimental, lost in their own world of memories.

Ellis, sensing Harry's inner turmoil, gently asks, "Haz, should we go inside?"

He looks at her, his thoughts still heavy, and nods in agreement. With a deep breath, he reaches for the masquerade mask resting beside him and places it over his face. It's like a protective shield, concealing his emotions as he prepares to face the unknown.

Harry then links his arm with Ellis, who offers him a reassuring smile, and together, they enter the building. The vibrant sounds of the reunion wash over them as they step into the bustling venue, ready to confront the past and whatever it may hold.

The walk to the hall feels endless, each step stretching into an eternity. Harry's heart races in his chest, the rhythm of his breath quickening as his anticipation grows. He can feel a lump forming in his throat, threatening to choke him, but he refuses to let it deter him.

The closer he gets to the entrance, the more he becomes aware of the pounding in his chest, the deafening thud of every heartbeat echoing in his ears. His hands tremble slightly, and he can't shake the unease that courses through his veins.

As he finally steps inside the hall, he's met with a sudden hush that washes over the room like a wave. It feels as though time itself has slowed, and every eye in the room turns toward him. The weight of their collective gaze bears down on him, a silent judgement that's impossible to ignore.

He can sense the curiosity, the recognition in their faces as they try to place him in their memories. It's as if he's stepped into a world that he both longed for and feared, a world that has continued without him.

Harry takes a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage he has left. The room seems to spin around him, and he wonders if he's made a colossal mistake.

You find yourself standing near the drinks table, a masquerade mask adorning your face, and Jamie by your side. Surprisingly, you're starting to actually enjoy yourself, despite your initial reluctance. The soft music in the background and the lively chatter of old friends create a pleasant ambiance.

You and Jamie are engaged in a friendly conversation, reminiscing about the past. You share a laugh as you recount the time you tried to get out of gym class by telling the teacher you had a sore throat.

"Remember that time I told the gym teacher I had a sore throat, and he said I didn't need my voice to play sports?" You chuckle, shaking your head at the memory.

Jamie grins and nods, "Oh, I remember. Classic move, but it didn't work out too well for you, did it?"

You laugh, taking a sip of your drink. "No, it didn't. Ended up running laps instead."

Amid the lighthearted conversation with Jamie, the hall suddenly falls into a profound silence, prompting you to turn your head and see what has captured everyone's attention. It's as if time stands still in that moment, and your eyes meet a sight that you never expected.

There, bathed in the soft, romantic glow of the hall's lighting, stands your ex-boyfriend, your one true love – Harry Styles.

He's dressed impeccably in a green suit, a masquerade mask adorning his face. The mask conceals his emotions, but his presence is unmistakable, sending a ripple through the room.

Of course the two of you were matching.

You were a vision of elegance in your light grey prom dress. The dress flowed gracefully as you descended the stairs, every step feeling like a small journey towards an unforgettable night.

The anticipation was palpable as you made your way down. You knew it was a night that marked a new chapter, a night of celebration and hope. Your heart was a mixture of excitement and nervousness, a beautiful cocktail of emotions that filled you to the brim.

And then you saw him. Harry, standing at the bottom of the stairs in a perfectly matching light grey suit. Time seemed to slow down as you took in the sight of him, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of joy at the coincidence.

It was as if the universe had conspired to ensure that you and Harry were in perfect harmony. Matching in not just attire but in your hearts as well. The smile that adorned his face when he saw you was a sight to behold, and your heart swelled with affection.

Lydia, your mother, couldn't resist commenting on the adorable match. Her eyes twinkled with amusement as she said, "Well, don't you two look adorable, matching in grey? It's like you were made for each other."

Harry's grin only grew wider as he extended his arm towards you, ready to escort you to the grand event.

"I guess we were," he replied, his voice filled with warmth and love.

As you took his arm, you shared a knowing look, an unspoken agreement that this night was not just about the dresses and suits, but the love that had brought you together.

Your heart leaps in your chest as memories flood back – the stolen glances in the hallways, the laughter shared in the cafeteria, the way he looked at you with that warmth in his eyes that made you feel like the most important person in the world.

You watch as he moves gracefully through the crowd, a confident stride that betrays none of the turmoil that might be lurking beneath the surface. People part to make way for him, their eyes following his every move.

As your eyes remain fixed on Harry's approaching figure, your heart races and your words catch in your throat. You turn to Jamie, your voice trembling as you confide in him, "I knew I shouldn't have come, Jamie. Seeing him… all these feelings have just rushed back, and I'm not sure I can handle being in the same room as him."

Jamie places a reassuring hand on your shoulder and offers a sympathetic smile. "Hey, it's okay. We can leave anytime you want. You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."

You appreciate his understanding and support, but the turmoil within you is still palpable. The mix of emotions – the longing, the memories, the unresolved feelings – swirls around you, making it difficult to think clearly.

"I appreciate that, J," you reply, your voice steadier but still tinged with uncertainty. "I just need a moment to collect myself. Maybe this is an opportunity to finally confront the past."

With a deep breath, you turn your attention back to the reunion, knowing that you have a decision to make – to stay and face what lies ahead or to leave and continue the life you've built without Harry.

Harry makes his way through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries with a few familiar faces along the way. His heart races as he moves closer to the corner of the room where Ellis stands. Once there, he doesn't waste any time and leans in to speak softly to her, "Do y’see ‘er?"

Ellis follows his gaze, scanning the room before nodding and saying, "Yeah, she's over at the bar with that guy, Jamie, from chemistry."

Harry's breath catches in his throat as he locks eyes with you for a brief moment. The connection is electric, and he can't help but feel a rush of emotions flood back.

He turns his attention back to Ellis, his voice filled with uncertainty. "Do y’think I should go over there and talk t’er?"

Ellis places a comforting hand on his shoulder, offering her advice. "Maybe give it a little time, Harry. Let things settle for a bit. You'll know when the right moment comes."

Harry nods, torn between the desire to reconnect and the fear of making things awkward.

Later in the evening, you find yourself engaged in a lively conversation with an old classmate named Roxy. The two of you are catching up on everything and anything that has happened in your lives since school.

Roxy animatedly shares stories of her career, her travels, and her recent adventures, and you reciprocate by telling her about your journey into football coaching and your beautiful daughter, Delilah.

The camaraderie and laughter flow freely as you reminisce about the antics you got up to during your school days, and you can't help but appreciate the sense of nostalgia that hangs in the air. It's moments like these that make you realize the value of rekindling old friendships and sharing the experiences that have shaped your lives.

You excuse yourself from the conversation with Roxy, telling her that you're just going to the toilet. Inside, the bathroom is a haven of solitude amidst the bustling reunion. You attend to your business, the silence offering a brief respite from the whirlwind of emotions outside.

As you step out of the bathroom and start to make your way back, lost in your thoughts, you collide with something firm and unyielding. Your heart leaps to your throat as you look up, only to be met with a pair of familiar green eyes that you've missed deeply yet haven't at all. It's the man who still owns your heart, Harry Styles.

The world seems to stop around you as you lock eyes with him, the years of separation and unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. It's an encounter that leaves you feeling both awkward and full of angst, a moment you never thought you'd have to confront, and one that could change everything.

And as you stand there, face to face with Harry, you can't help but wonder if this unexpected collision is a twist of fate, a chance to finally address the feelings that have remained unresolved for so long.

You shuffled past Harry, your heart pounding in your chest, the encounter outside the bathroom sending waves of uncertainty through you. It was as if time had reversed, and the emotions you had tried to tuck away came rushing back.

As you walked away from him, you couldn't bring yourself to look back. The weight of the past and the complexities of your emotions left you feeling conflicted and vulnerable. You knew that seeing Harry again was going to stir up old feelings, but you hadn't anticipated how intense it would be.

Harry stood there, watching you walk away, his heart heavy with disappointment. He had hoped for a warm greeting, a chance to talk and maybe find some closure, but the way you had avoided looking at him stung. It was as if he didn't even exist in your world, and that thought was more painful than he had imagined.

He let out a sigh, running a trembling hand through his hair as he tried to collect his thoughts. It was difficult for him to comprehend that you could just walk away without acknowledging him, without even a brief exchange of words. The reunion had been his chance to reconnect, to possibly mend what had been broken, but it seemed like that opportunity had slipped away.

In a mix of emotions and frustration, Harry decided to step into the men's bathroom, leaning against the sink for a moment. He tried to process the anguish he felt at your avoidance, hoping that maybe, just maybe, you might still want to talk and make sense of the unresolved feelings that lingered between you.

You hurriedly returned to the bar, your heart still racing from the encounter with Harry. The vodka you ordered was a lifeline, a familiar friend that would help you navigate the unexpected twists of the night.

The bartender, efficient and understanding, prepared your drink without a word. As he handed it to you, you offered a curt nod of gratitude and took a long, fortifying sip. The strong, bittersweet taste provided a momentary reprieve from the turmoil of emotions that had surged within you.

In the midst of your solitude at the bar, Ellis, a former classmate, approached with a soft, friendly smile. You acknowledged her with a tight-lipped expression, your eyes conveying a mixture of apprehension and fatigue. The reunion had thrust you into a whirlwind of nostalgia, and now, the complexity of your feelings threatened to overwhelm you.

Ellis, eager to bridge the gap, tried to initiate a conversation. "How have you been?" she asked, her voice gentle and empathetic.

You hesitated for a brief moment, the question prompting a whirlwind of thoughts. How could you summarize the years that had passed, the heartache, the joy, the transformation of your life, all in one sentence?

Finally, you responded, "Life's been alright." It was a carefully worded answer, a guarded response that didn't reveal the depths of emotion and experience you'd encountered.

The conversation seemed to stumble into an awkward silence, the weight of the past and the unresolved emotions hanging heavily between you. You took another sip of your vodka, the familiar warmth spreading through your body, offering a temporary refuge from the discomfort of the moment.

Ellis, perceptive and caring, couldn't help but sense the underlying bitterness in your tone. She leaned in closer, her expression filled with concern, and admitted, "I know Harry feels really guilty about leaving you."

Your response was laced with bitterness.

"Yeah, I bet he does," you sighed, the memories of the past and the heartache still very much alive in your mind.

Ellis tapped her nails lightly against the bar, deep in thought.

"Maybe you should talk to him, let him explain everything," she suggested, her words gentle yet persuasive. "You might find some closure, or who knows, even rekindle what once was."

You let out a sceptical chuckle, your eyes scanning the room, but your thoughts lingering on the man you'd tried so hard to forget.

"Why should I?" you questioned, the weight of years of unanswered questions heavy on your heart.

Ellis's voice was soothing and earnest as she continued, "Because, deep down, I know for a fact that the two of you still have feelings for each other. Sometimes, facing the past is the only way to move forward."

The idea of confronting Harry and revisiting the emotions you'd buried felt both daunting and enticing.

You were seated at your desk in math class. The room was filled with the usual chatter, but your focus was on something entirely different. Your crush, seated a few rows ahead, had a way of capturing your attention.

Every time you glanced in his direction, you seemed to catch his gaze, and your heart fluttered. You felt a rush of excitement mixed with a tinge of nervousness. Math class was suddenly a lot more interesting.

Beside you sat Ellis, who happened to be your crush's best friend. She observed your interactions with a knowing smile and a mischievous glint in her eyes. She leaned over and whispered, "You know, I don't get why the two of you just don't admit your feelings."

You blushed, surprised by her comment.

"What? I don't even think he likes me like that," you admitted, trying to downplay your infatuation.

Ellis shook her head with a chuckle. "Trust me, he does. I've seen the way he looks at you when you're not looking. You're both just too stubborn to admit it."

You finished the last of your vodka just as the DJ's voice filled the air, announcing the start of the slow dance. The music shifted into a gentle melody, setting a romantic ambiance that enveloped the room.

As you looked around, you noticed the eager faces of the reunion attendees, everyone seeking out a partner for the dance. Friends and acquaintances paired up, swaying to the music, but you couldn't help but notice that no one approached Harry. It was as if they were all a bit intimidated by his presence, the weight of his fame making him an enigma to most.

Harry stood in the corner, a lone figure amidst the couples on the dance floor. There was a vulnerability in his expression that was rarely seen, a hint of longing that was both endearing and bittersweet. It was clear that he was just as much a part of the reunion as anyone else, yet he remained untouched, like a distant star in the night sky.

With a deep sigh and a final adjustment of your clammy hands against your dress, you made a resolute decision. The pull toward Harry was undeniable, and you couldn't ignore the feeling any longer. It was time to face what had been left unresolved for far too long.

You began to navigate the room, and at first, he remained oblivious to your approach. It wasn't until you stopped right in front of him that he looked up, a bewildered expression in his eyes. In his gaze, you sensed surprise, almost disbelief, as if he had convinced himself that you didn't want to be near him.

You held your hand out, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of your lips, and said, "Want to be my dance partner? I think it's time we talked."

The words hung in the air, laden with unspoken emotions and the weight of the past. Harry's surprise slowly gave way to a flicker of hope, his eyes meeting yours as he contemplated your offer.

You took Harry's hand and gently guided him to the dance floor, the anticipation and uncertainty palpable in the air. As the music started to play, a soft, melodic tune that filled the room, you both hesitated before finally finding your place on the floor.

Hesitantly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingertips grazing the soft hairs at the nape. Harry reciprocated by placing his hands on your waist, his touch light and tentative. The proximity felt both foreign and familiar, and you started swaying to the music, finding a rhythm that was uniquely your own.

The silence between you was awkward, filled with words left unsaid, emotions unexpressed. It was as if the weight of the years apart, the unanswered questions, and the unspoken feelings had manifested in this dance.

You couldn't help but steal glances at each other, each fleeting look revealing a complex mix of emotions—nostalgia, longing, and a hint of uncertainty.

The two of you swayed to the music in the awkward embrace of the slow dance, caught in a moment that had been a decade in the making. As the silence grew more uncomfortable, Harry finally broke it, his voice carrying the weight of their shared history.

"How have you been?" he asked, his eyes locked onto yours, searching for a glimpse of the girl he used to know.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal.

"Life's been fine," you replied, the words feeling both superficial and loaded with unspoken complexities.

Feeling the tension in the air, you decided to shift the focus.

"And how's it living the life of a rockstar?" you asked, trying to break through the awkwardness. It was a loaded question, but one that seemed safe enough.

Harry's expression tightened, as if he were choosing his words carefully. "S’a lot. Busy, y’know. But s’what I've always wanted."

As you pressed Harry for answers, the weight of the past seemed to hang in the air.

"Why did you leave, Harry?" you asked, your voice filled with a mix of curiosity and pain. "You didn't say anything. You just disappeared."

Harry sighed, and as he met your gaze, his eyes held a hint of regret.

"M’didn't want t’hurt ye’," he confessed, his voice low and sincere.

The words hit you with a mix of emotions.

"You didn't want to hurt me?" you repeated, the realisation sinking in.

Just as he seemed about to elaborate, your phone rang, displaying Levi's name on the screen.

The phone call from Levi seemed to have come at an inopportune moment, breaking the fragile conversation between you and Harry. With a sigh, you held up a finger as if to say, "I need to take this." You turned and walked away from the slow dance, your steps guided by the beckoning ring of your phone.

As you distanced yourself from Harry and the dance floor, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of relief and disappointment. The unanswered questions and unspoken feelings lingered between you, a weight you had carried for far too long.

In the crowd, Harry caught Jamie's eyes, and their silent exchange was filled with unspoken understanding. Jamie nodded in the direction you had left, mouthing the words,

"Go after her." The silent encouragement was a reminder that some things were worth pursuing, even after a decade of silence and distance.

As you stepped outside the venue to take the call, your heart raced with concern. You quickly answered the phone, bringing it up to your ear, and without preamble, you asked, "Is everything okay with Delilah?"

Levi's voice came through the line, reassuring but tinged with understanding. "Yeah, she's fine. She woke up just now and started crying because she didn't get to speak to you before bed."

A sigh of relief escaped your lips, but you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. "I'm so sorry, Levi. Put her on the phone. I need to talk to her."

The phone was passed to Delilah, and her voice, small and tearful, reached your ear. "Mummy?"

Your heart ached as you replied, "Hey, sweetheart. I'm here. I'm sorry I missed our bedtime chat. I love you so much."

Delilah's voice was still laced with sleepiness and a touch of uncertainty. "Love you too, Mummy. When are you coming back?"

You glanced back at the venue, where the reunion was still in full swing, and then back to the dark knight beyond. The choice you were about to make felt significant, not just for yourself but for your daughter as well. "I'll be back soon, baby. I promise. You be good for daddy, okay?"

As you finished your conversation with Delilah, ending with an "I love you," you hung up the phone and took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your choices bearing down on you. The brisk night air provided a welcome contrast to the warm and crowded venue behind you.

Just then, Harry walked outside, and the timing was uncanny. He caught the tail end of your call, hearing your affectionate words to whoever was on the phone. A wave of mixed emotions washed over him. He thought he had missed his chance, that you had moved on with your life and no longer needed him.

Turning around, you were startled to find Harry standing there in the shadows. His sudden appearance caught you off guard, and you let out a little jump in surprise.

Harry, concern etched across his features, asked, "S’everything alright? Y’looked panicked when y’saw y’phone."

You quickly collected yourself, offering a reassuring smile. "Yeah, everything's fine. I just needed to answer it without the loud music," you explained, hoping to quell any worries.

Harry, seemingly relieved, asked, "Was that y’boyfriend?"

With a sigh, you shook your head. "No, not my boyfriend. It was my daughter."

The silence that followed was heavy, and Harry's eyes widened in realisation.

You were sprawled out in Harry's garden, a patchwork of the evening sky painted with shades of deep blue and a tapestry of stars, twinkling like a thousand distant dreams. The soft scent of flowers and freshly mowed grass wafted through the air, blending with the comforting scent of Harry's cologne.

As you lay in his arms, cocooned in the embrace of young love, the world beyond seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you and the vast expanse of the night. The grass cradled your bodies like a feathered mattress, a canvas for the dreams that flowed freely.

Amidst this tranquil backdrop, Harry's voice broke the tranquil silence.

"Do y’ever want t’ave kids?" he asked, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your arm. His words were like a gentle breeze, laden with curiosity and the promise of an uncertain future.

You turned your head to look at him, your eyes meeting him in the dim light. A smile graced your lips as you replied,

"Yeah, I'd love to have kids someday. Especially our kids." The words tumbled out with an ease that only young love could inspire, a declaration of your shared hopes and dreams.

Harry's heart skipped a beat, and he kissed your forehead, his warm breath mingling with the cool night air.

"Our kids," he repeated softly, his voice filled with promise and the intoxicating scent of first love. In that moment, under the canvas of a starlit sky, you both painted a picture of a future filled with shared adventures and laughter, not yet aware of the challenges and heartaches that lay ahead.

You lay there, sharing your dreams and aspirations, your hearts intertwined like the constellations above.

Harry looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and confusion.

"Y’ave a daughter?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

You nodded, the weight of the past and present pressing heavily upon you.

"Yeah," you replied, your voice thick with emotion. "She's four."

The question hung in the air, heavy and unresolved. Harry's voice broke the silence, asking, "Are y’with the dad?"

Your eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and frustration. You looked at him with a hurt expression before saying, "Is that all you care about? Whether I'm with her dad or not?"

Harry, seemingly flustered, quickly responded, "No, f’course not."

The anger and hurt simmered beneath the surface as you shook your head, the words pouring out with the force of years of unspoken resentment. "You lost the right to care about who I'm with or my life a long time ago when you up and left. You didn't even deserve to know that I had a daughter."

Harry's face contorted with regret as your words hit him like a tidal wave. The argument had grown intense, and the emotions that had been suppressed for years were now surging to the surface.

He took a step closer to you, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he finally said, "M’sorry."

Your eyes met his, but the anger still smoldered within you.

"Sorry isn't going to change anything," you retorted, your voice laced with frustration and pain.

As he began to speak, his voice wavered with raw emotion.

"M’sorry that I left ye," he admitted, his words tinged with guilt and sorrow. "But I knew f’a fact that y’wouldn't want t’live the life with a rockstar, a life where y’hardly see me."

Your confusion and worry grew as you stood on Harry's doorstep, knocking anxiously.

When Harry's mother answered the door, her expression was sombre. You immediately asked, "Where's Harry? He was supposed to meet me today."

His mother hesitated for a moment before delivering the news that would shatter your world. "Harry didn't tell you? He's left, dear. He left early this morning to head to London."

You blinked, struggling to comprehend the reality of the situation.

"But when will he be back?" you implored, your voice trembling.

His mother's gaze remained sympathetic, but her words were final. "He won't be coming back, love. He's a part of One Direction now, and their tours are about to begin."

You knew he was part of the band, you had gone to a few live shows and even looked after him after the band finished in Third, when all he wanted was you.

He never told you about a tour, about anything, although you noticed that he was on his phone quite a lot, you just thought he was playing that stupid game.

But you must have been wrong.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing, and the initial shock gave way to a growing sense of despair.

"Why didn't he tell me?" you managed to stammer out, your voice cracking as you tried to understand.

You had thought your relationship was built on trust and communication.

His mother's sympathetic gaze only deepened the emotional turmoil you were experiencing.

"I think he didn't want to hurt you," she offered gently. "This opportunity means a lot to him."

Too late for that.

Your mind raced with a million questions. How had everything changed so suddenly? What would this mean for your future together? You couldn't imagine life without Harry by your side.

"He's been practising with the band for weeks now," Harry's mother continued, "and their tours are about to begin. It's a big chance for him, and he didn't want to hold himself back."

Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of sorrow, confusion, and frustration. You had never expected this turn of events, and the sense of abandonment was overwhelming.

The weight of his confession hung heavy in the air. Harry continued, his gaze locked onto yours,

"T’band was just starting out, and I knew I'd be on the road, seeing y’less and less. I didn't want t’hurt ye."

The argument, once fueled by anger, seemed to transform into a tumultuous sea of emotions. Your heart ached as you listened to his words, realizing that he had walked away not out of indifference, but out of love—or what he had believed was love.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you heard Harry's confession, the raw emotion in his voice cutting through the anger and resentment that had fueled your argument. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice, and replied, "I didn't get to choose what life I wanted to live. I wanted to be with you, but you made that choice for me."

Harry's eyes glistened with remorse as he implored, "I wanted t’protect ye’ t’keep y’from a life that would hurt ye."

Your voice trembled as you spoke, the tears now flowing freely.

"The only life I wanted to live was one with you, but then you up and left me, our relationship," you said, your voice breaking as you confronted the years of pain that had been buried deep within.

Harry's response was a whisper of regret. "When I auditioned, y’had t’walk out halfway through because y’didn't do well in the crowd."

At this, your emotions spiraled, and you couldn't contain the rush of memories and feelings that overwhelmed you. You cried as you defended yourself and the relationship you had once cherished. "I was scared, Harry, scared of the expectations, of the distance, but I still loved you. I didn't want to let you down, but you walked out on us, on me."

The weight of all the years of heartache and misunderstandings became too much to bear, and you started to sob uncontrollably. The tears flowed freely, and your body shook with the intensity of your emotions.

Without hesitation, Harry wrapped his arms around you, drawing you close, his chest becoming a sanctuary for your broken heart. His voice, gentle and soothing, whispered into your ear, "M’so sorry, m’love. I'll spend the rest f’m’life making it up t’you."

Amidst the tears and the weight of unspoken words, your voice quivered as you finally found the strength to speak.

"Harry, you don't understand how hard it was...how hard it still is," you confessed, your words choked with emotion. "You were my everything, and you just left without even a word."

Harry's grip tightened, and his voice was filled with a deep sense of remorse. "I know, and I can't change the past, but I want t’make things right, t’be there f’ye."

You paused for a moment, looking up at him, your eyes red and swollen. "It's not just about me, Harry. I've moved on, and I have a daughter now. You just can't come back into my life like this."

His voice was filled with sincerity as he replied, "I understand. I'll do whatever it takes t’earn y’forgiveness and be a part f’y’life again."

The weight of the years hung heavy in the air, but as you held each other amidst the tears and the apologies, there was a glimmer of hope that perhaps, with time and effort, wounds could heal and a new chapter could begin.

[emma23]

Grounded in the stars:

Poe dameron x reader

If you want to support me, feel free to check this out 💕:

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————————————————————————

“Poe, you’re insufferable, you know that?”

You tossed a wrench toward the X-wing as Poe crouched down, inspecting the charred remains of his stabilizer. His face was smeared with grease, his usual cocky grin firmly in place.

“Insufferable, but still your favorite pilot.” He winked, catching the wrench effortlessly.

“Not if you keep wrecking my ships.”

Poe stood, brushing his hands off on his jumpsuit before strolling over, his expression softening. “Our ships,” he corrected, leaning slightly closer. “And I didn’t wreck it. I tested its limits. There’s a difference.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping back to the pile of spare parts. “You’re lucky Leia likes you. If it were up to me—”

“You’d still patch me up, admit I’m the best pilot in the galaxy, and maybe, just maybe, let me steal a kiss.” His voice dropped an octave, teasing but unmistakably sincere.

“You’ve got some nerve, Dameron.”

“Comes with the territory, sweetheart.”

The hangar was buzzing with activity. Resistance engineers and pilots hustled around, preparing for the next mission. The First Order wasn’t resting, and neither were you. Between repairing ships, running diagnostics, and dodging Poe’s relentless charm, your days were full.

Your relationship with Poe had always been one of banter and chaos. You’d met long before the Resistance days, back when he was just a reckless pilot with a dream too big for the galaxy. Somewhere between yelling at him for his stunts and patching up his scrapes, you’d fallen for him. And now, years later, he was yours—cockiness, charm, and all.

But even the best relationships had their moments. Like when Poe decided to crash his X-wing into an asteroid field during a routine scouting mission.

“You’re replacing the stabilizer this time,” you called over your shoulder, pulling wires from the damaged panel.

“You love doing this. Admit it.”

You spun to face him, hands on your hips. “Poe, if you don’t stop smiling like that, I swear—”

“What? You’ll kill me? That’s not very loving.”

“Loving? You’re lucky I haven’t throttled you already!”

Poe stepped closer, his grin shifting to something softer. “You wouldn’t. You love me too much.”

Your silence was enough of a confirmation.

Later that evening, the hangar was quiet. Most of the crew had gone to their bunks, leaving you alone with the soft hum of droids and the faint glow of lights. You were sitting cross-legged on the ground, surrounded by scattered tools and spare parts, still working on the stabilizer.

You didn’t hear him approach until you felt his arms wrap around your waist from behind. His warmth enveloped you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Poe—”

“Shh,” he murmured. “Just... let me hold you.”

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of his presence melting away your frustration. His grip tightened slightly, pulling you closer.

“You’re impossible,” you whispered, leaning back into him.

“And yet, you’re still here.” His voice was softer now, laced with something deeper.

“I should’ve let you crash years ago.”

“But then who would keep you company in this freezing hangar?” He kissed your temple gently.

“Someone quieter.”

“Boring.”

You laughed despite yourself, turning slightly to look at him. His eyes were fixed on you, full of something that made your chest tighten.

“Why do you look at me like that?” you asked.

“Because you’re everything.”

Your breath caught, but before you could respond, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was somehow both gentle and overwhelming.

Later, tangled together on the floor of the hangar under the dim lights, you traced lazy patterns along his chest. His fingers played with a strand of your hair, his expression uncharacteristically soft.

“You know, if you keep pulling stunts like today, I might actually throttle you one day,” you teased.

“Worth it,” he replied, smirking.

“Poe—”

“I mean it. Every crash, every argument, every late-night repair session. Worth it, as long as I get to end up here, with you.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest betrayed you. “You’re such a sap.”

“Admit it, you love me.”

You leaned up, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Maybe.”

He grinned. “That’s good enough for me.”

As you both got dressed, Poe suddenly stopped, looking at you with that mischievous glint in his eye.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time you threaten to kill me, can you at least wear that flight suit? You know, the one with the—”

“Poe!”

“What? Just trying to make my inevitable demise worth it.”

You threw a wrench at him, missing by inches.

“Love you too, sweetheart!” he called, running out of the hangar.

[worldsmessiestwriter]

That Killer instinct.

tw - swearing?

word count - 1,306

Tony stark x Daughter! reader

inspired by killer instinct from bring it on

——————————————————

Y/N Stark practically skipped through the door, her energy filling the space as she rushed into the workshop. Tony was hunched over a project, his tools scattered around him, but the second he heard her footsteps, he looked up with a grin, glad to see his daughter in one piece.

“Hey, kid. How was school today?” Tony asked, his voice light but tinged with that typical dad curiosity. He loved hearing about Y/N’s day.

Y/N bounced into the room, practically vibrating with excitement. “Dad! I did it!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with pride. “I’m head cheerleader now!”

Tony paused, his tools still in hand. He sat up straighter, surprised by the announcement. “Whoa, seriously? Head cheerleader? That’s awesome! I mean, I knew you’d make something happen, but this… this is next-level. You know, I was the king of the school for a reason, kid.”

She flashed him a wide grin, obviously proud of herself. “I know, right? And it was so easy, Dad. It was like everything just fell into place.”

Tony leaned back in his chair, still smiling, but curiosity tugged at him. “Tell me everything. How’d you pull it off?”

Y/N hesitated for a split second before she casually flopped down on the couch, kicking her feet up on the coffee table. “Okay, so it started with Cameron right? She was in line to be the head cheerleader. Been working her whole life for it. But, she had that D in chemistry, and I just—well, I tweaked it. You know, a little software update here, a little school system adjustment there…”

Tony’s smile faltered as the pieces of the story began to fall into place. “Wait, you hacked the school system?”

Y/N gave him a sweet, innocent look. “Just a little thing, no harm done. Cameron had no business being captain anyway. D’s are for losers. So, I made sure she was out of the picture.”

“Y/N…” Tony began, rubbing his temple in frustration. “You can’t just mess with people’s lives like that. That’s not how you—”

She cut him off with a nonchalant wave of her hand, her voice still light and peppy. “Oh, Dad, relax. It was just a minor thing. It’s all part of the plan. Anyway, after Cameron ? I had to deal with Abbie. She thought she had it in the bag, too, but she wasn’t quite prepared for what I had up my sleeve.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “What did you do to Abbie?”

Y/N’s grin widened, a playful yet almost predatory glint in her eyes. “Well, I hired this guy… you know, give her a little gift—a lovely case of mono. Totally took her out for the week, so she couldn’t even tryout. Now guess who’s the head cheerleader?”

Tony’s jaw dropped, and for a long moment, he couldn’t find the words. His daughter, the one he’d raised and hoped would take the moral high ground, had taken a shortcut straight to the top, and it wasn’t pretty.

“You didn’t—” Tony started, but Y/N was practically gleaming now, practically glowing with pride as she continued her story.

“Yeah, I did. And now, no one’s in my way. The seniors all think I’m amazing. They kiss my ass, and I’m just sixteen! I’m the girl to beat, Dad. I’m winning.” Her voice was sugary sweet, but there was an edge to it. A fierceness that matched the deadly precision of her methods. “I’m raising hell dad, I’m totally untouchable!”

Tony stared at her, trying to process the words that were coming out of her mouth. His daughter, the head cheerleader—the head cheerleader—was a mastermind of manipulation and underhanded tactics. His thoughts raced, but all he could manage was a frustrated sigh.

“Y/N, you can’t just—this isn’t some game you can play however you want,” he said, standing up from his chair, his voice low and serious now. “You’re talking about taking down people—changing their lives, getting them sick… this isn’t how you build something. You have to earn things the right way.”

Y/N crossed her arms and kicked her legs up a bit more, a little smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Dad, I did earn it. I did whatever it took, just like you always say. Get to the top, or get out of the way. Don’t you always talk about how it’s a dog-eat-dog world? This is how the world works. If someone’s in my way, I just take ‘em out.”

Tony’s expression tightened. He could see how she justified it in her mind, but it wasn’t what he’d meant when he’d taught her to fight for what she wanted. This was more than ambition—this was ruthlessness.

“I know what I taught you,” Tony said quietly, stepping closer to her. “But there’s a difference between fighting for what you deserve and just cutting down anyone in your way to get what you want. You can’t just step on people to win, Y/N. You have to consider the cost of what you’re doing.”

Y/N’s smile didn’t waver, but there was a small flicker of doubt in her eyes. “Dad, you said it yourself—if you’re not first, you’re last. I don’t care about the cost. I care about being the best. And right now, I’m the best.”

Tony sighed again, rubbing his temples as he paced in front of her. “It’s not about being the best, kid. It’s about who you are when you get there. You can be the top dog all you want, but if you’re stepping on people to get there, what does that say about you? You won’t have anyone left when you’re at the top. That’s the cost. The price of all this ambition.” He gestured around, trying to make her see the bigger picture. “Do you really want to be known as the girl who would do anything—anything—to be at the top, no matter who you hurt?”

Y/N paused, chewing on her bottom lip for a moment as she glanced at her dad. She could see the concern in his eyes, the disappointment that was starting to show in his expression, and it gave her pause for just a second. But then the smile returned to her face, and she shrugged.

“I get what you’re saying, but I don’t think I’m doing anything wrong, Dad. I’m winning.” Her voice had a sharpness to it, one that didn’t match the cheerfulness in her tone. “This is how it’s done. And I’m ready to take on anything.”

Tony closed his eyes, swallowing his frustration. He knew she was clever—too clever for her own good sometimes. He just hoped she’d realize one day that there was more to success than simply being on top.

“Well, I guess we’ll see how long that lasts, huh?” he said, his voice softening. “But just remember: the way you get to the top will follow you. It’s not always about being the fastest, or the strongest… it’s about being the right kind of person.”

Y/N grinned, clearly unbothered, and shrugged once again. “I’ll keep that in mind, Dad. But right now, I’m the head cheerleader, and that’s all that matters.”

Tony’s heart sank, but he gave her a small, resigned smile. “Yeah, you sure are kid.” He turned back to his workbench, feeling both proud and disappointed in the same breath.

——————————————————

i’m on a roll with the musical songfics guys be proud to be fair i’ve been writing these over the past week im not that fast of a writer 🙏😭

[grievous-writes]

"Mimic" - Part One - Ramattra x Reader

Welp, I think this one is gonna be more then a one shot XD

You were one of the most single-handedly annoying Humans Ramattra had to endure, and given all of Humanity was on his knives’ edge, that was saying something. He had his mission, his war, his duty to all Omnic kind, and you as a Talon agent were making this muddled - A Human who was an ally, even if it was hesitantly so. 

Those who worked with the organization were a colorful bunch, some fatalistic and grim, and then others were like you with your flashy attitude and manic personality. Sombra and you were in that same vein, snarky and short, but you were different enough to stand out from the hacker by coming to Ramattra on your downtime. Where Sombra’s RnR was spent on her various data collections and pulling threads behind a monitor, you spent your time pestering the Omnic leader.

Your particular flavor of pestering Ramattra was your vocal mimicry, hence your code name “Mimic”. You loved to use his voice against him.

Ramatraa read your file, he knew it was a Blackwatch raid on your small town that caused you to loathe the sham that was Overwatch, and you had to survive a traumatic childhood by mimicking everything around you. You could be disguised as anything, from a dog limping down the street to a trash bin dumped over on the side of the road, and through this unique skill you would steal food for other orphaned kids in your town … or you’d pilfer heavy munitions for rebel cells. You were a survivor, durable and capable, and slightly insane. You had to be if you kept pestering him so often. 

You caught him several times when he was leaving meetings with the other Talon top-brass, appointed his escort to and from his ship, and would poke and poke and poke:

“So, got any plans to make people suffer as you have suffered today?” You asked with half of your voice being your own, and the other more embolden part being his tone repeated back to him. Uncanny. 

He tried to ignore you, walking onward as you trailed behind; sights set forward to his docked ship. 

“Oh come on, don’t leave me hanging!” Your smile was too wide for his taste.

He growled. “Surely you must have some task other than to bother me, Human.” 

“Oh, ouch, are we back to that sort of name calling, Omnic?” You frowned with a mischievous eye roll. “Come on, give me something to work with besides your broody mode. A laugh, a joke!”

“You are a joke.” Was his quick spitted response, and he felt rather juvenile after letting it out.

“Again, ouch.” You chuckled and he watched from the edge of his vision as your smile faded ever so. “How about this then - When you’re in a better mood, and if you have free time, come find me?”

Ramattra paused in mid step and snapped his head down to look at you. “And why would I seek you out?” 

“Cause I’m charming and fun to be around.” Your smile grew in full force; hands on your hips and head held high.Cocky and confident. 

The Omnic aimed to give another quick retort, a quick bit of his words, but he faltered. That’s what you wanted from him, banter and conversation - You were collecting more of his voice. And for what end? You were using him, just as how he was using you. 

“Enough of you, Mimic.” Ramattra’s tone was deep, level, and it made your stomach churn. His red glowing gaze was intense and you felt your grin falter once more. “Be gone and find your sport elsewhere. I have no interest in mingling with the likes of you.” 

“Likes of me? W-What’s that-?”

“You are an adventitious tool for Talon and nothing more. You are barely subpar above the hacker and sniper, nowhere near important enough to be mentioned by your leaders, and your only real task is playing babysitter to someone who could crush your skull in with a flex of my palm. It is trivial and a token task given to placate someone as desperate as you.” The Omic turned away from you and kept walking to the ramp of his waiting vessel, leaving you in your spot. 

Your feet refused to move and you couldn’t find any words. 

“Keep that in mind when you try to talk to me as if we are equals.” Was Ramattra’s last comment as he ducked out of sight, and you stood frozen as his ship flew away into the early evening’s orange sky. - - -

The last meeting with the Omnic got to the ears of Reaper, with some deck crew tattle-telling on you, and the masked man gave you a mouthful of not so passive threats to back down … and a new assignment that would take you away from Talon’s HQ for sometime. Talon couldn’t risk pissing off Null Sector, not for the amusement of a mid-range agent like yourself.

You were assigned to the ass end of nowhere, at a monitoring station high in the mountains of the western United States, where Talon was piggybacking off official comms channels around the world. You were set in charge of a small team that was meant to monitor air traffic and report anything useful. You were essentially tossed to the side, put in time out, and your skills and true talents left unused for months.

To anyone else, they’d have probably been pissed off and brooding about the new job, but you had been discarded before many times, lonely and forgotten, that this was a walk in the park. You had learned to mimic contentment, to fabricate joy, and masterfully masked your hurt emotions with diligence to your task. This was all first nature to you, with the founding blocks of your skills set by a little kid who had to fake it till they made it. You remembered a time where you had to literally mimic the sound of a dying bunny to lure in a starving cat, a fine meal you caught with your bare hands; just barely above the age of ten. 

You were so alone, so sad, and scared.

In all your bravado and flashy facade, you had thought that maybe Ramattra would understand what it meant to feel alone; given his situation. You couldn’t imagine the weight on his shoulders, his task was unique to him alone, but you could still sympathize. And you dared that maybe, just maybe, you told yourself, if you could make him “smile” there was hope that neither of you would be so lonely.

But alas, he pushed you away. Red tape was laid out and you were officially told to back off.

That didn’t stop you however from using the monitoring station to your own ends.

You had your own hacking subroutines that Sombra didn’t have access to, your own unique flavor of single mimicking, and you easily tapped into Null Sector and Talon communications. You at first used your connection to pinpoint where joint operations were held, then you would figure out who was in command and leading the missions, and eventually you got access to an area’s security system and watched the battles from the comfort of your desk via CCTVs. And unabashedly, you were keen on watching Ramattra work out in the field. 

You watched how dominating Ramattra was on the field, and was fascinated with how precise his attacks were. His defensiveness was calculated, his offense ruthless, and he would annihilate his enemies with efficacy. You couldn’t help but find yourself mimicking his voice and actions in the comfort of your room, playing out fighting along his side and working out in your head how you could aid the Omic in battle. You found yourself roleplaying as well, making fake conversations back and forth with his voice and your own in your throat. Silly things, funny things, a side of Ramattra you were making up in your spare time. 

You imagined him congratulating you on a task well done, complimenting you on your fighting style, and after a few close calls in combat, finally him taking that offer on spending time with you. But in reality, you were talking to yourself, sitting in a barely lit room and dreaming of something that would never come to be. It was pathetic. The solitary time in the mountains was getting to you, and you knew that there was a line between boredom and obsession. 

On the morning you set out to end the little spy network on Ramattra’s missions, you noticed something interesting stirring in the signals codding. The Omnic and a few other Talon agents were set out on a stealth mission to steal a payload out from Overewatch’s nose, and where Sombra was there to hack her way through doors and watch through the building’s cameras, you caught signs of another person’s work doing the same thing you were doing. They were mimicking Sombra’s signal and watching everything she was doing. You watched from a third eye position as Sombra’s attacks were being counter blanched, no doubt by someone in Overwatch, but you couldn’t act - Or else you’d be found out. It was one thing to have a little network insight like you had, and another thing to be found out. 

You could get into real trouble, like the sort that left a bullet in your brain knowing Talon, but as you watched the mission go to shit, as you saw Ramattra’s shield being beaten down again and again, all thoughts for self preservation fell away. 

“Fuck it.” You snarled under your breath and got to work. Your signal turned onto the Overwatch line and began to attack it from the preverbal backdoor in a sparking battle; counter-acting every move it tried to do, by acting as stray code within its own network. You began to cause internal damage into the Overwatch hacker’s routine, mimicking your way in and out of its trappings to have the program destroy its own code.  

The actions caught Sombra’s attention as she was trying to open a door for escape, a weird glare set to her features. “What the-?!”

“Sombra, the door!” Reaper shouted out between shotgun blasts.

“Yeah yeah, I’m getting there - Finally!” She barked back with a sudden smirk as the doors flew open. 

“What took so long?” Widowmaker asked through the commlink, snipping off targets from above.

“Eh, someone in Overwatch was being fancy. But - …” Sombra stood up and dashed through the door; leaving her remark unfinished. The others followed behind her, with Ramattra pulling in the rear as he used his tanky tactics to cover the retreat. 

Reaper hummed and looked to Windowmaker, who had joined the escape from the shadows of a corner and a glare was set to her cold, blue features. 

You watched the interactions going down, heard every word, and both you and Sombra knew that; she knew you were watching and listening now. The hacker was the closest thing you had to a “friend” within Talon, and you knew while she’d try to not toss you under the bus, she might not have the choice; self preservation. But you couldn’t help but feel sudden burning guilt as Reaper and Widowmarker set their eyes onto Sombra. They had their suspicions on her already, you knew that after the failed assassination a few months back, and this could be the perfect opportunity to get her. And by “get”, they could easily kill her if they wanted. 

You couldn’t hide. Your shame of spying on Ramattra was meager compared to seeing Somrba get shot down. Your own self preservation was tossed out the window in a foolish flick of our comm into their joined link. 

“Welcome to Talon Airlines, this is Mimic, and I’ll be your pilot this evening!” Your voice mimicked that of a cherry commercial pilot, masterfull masking your nervousness. The group took a collective halt, stunned for a moment, but none of you had time to talk or argue. “If you could kindly get going? I can’t copy their single for too much longer and Sombra needs to get out of there before the whole compound goes into lock down.” 

Wordlessly the team booked it for the exit, with Sombra leading the way to freedom as you battled on; holding the line. You managed to lock and close doors behind the fleeing troupe, blocking Overwatch agents from getting to them at every turn. You watched as the Talon transporter came flying down to pick up the team, with Ramattra taking a quick glance at a security camera. You watched his crimson glow lingered into the feed, and even as he ducked out of sight and into the safety of the ship, you could feel the red flare burned into your gaze; with no amount of blinking being rid of the speckles in your eyesight. 

You were so fucked.

---

Ramattra stood to one side of the debriefing room, silent and arms crossed, and he was impressed by how you held your ground while Reaper drilled into you. You didn’t flinch, didn’t show emotion. But it couldn’t last; you were only Human, after all. Sombra was brought in as well, the two of you getting an earful, but the masked-man’s ire was majorly on you. Rightfully so, of course. 

You were spying on special operations of some of Talon’s highest ranking agents, and that would've gotten any other soldier a death sentence. Your only saving grace was that you never recovered what you saw. And with Sombra’s input, it was understood your system was nearly flawless. The hacker would have improved things here and there, a few tweaks into your algorithm, but it was enough passive praise to get Reaper to cool down. 

And then there was Doomfist. He was as quiet as Ramattra during the entire interrogation, and only spoke after Reaper had stepped back from your person. Reaper was the gun and Doomfist was the person who could’ve pulled the preverbal trigger.

“Agent Mimic.” Akande began, his baritone voice calm as he was reading over a datapad. Ramattra recognized the passing words on the pad as your personal file, specifically the disciplinary record section. It was a clean slate. 

“Yes, Sir?” You asked at full attention. 

“I shall make this simple.” Doomfist put down the datapad onto a nearby table and began to walk his way around the room, slowly making it to your side. Ramattra was reading your vitals and while you were keeping collected on the outside, your heart rate was steadily rising. “While you have been a loyal soldier to Talon’s cause, and resourceful tool, and have skills I’d hate to see wasted … You’ve made yourself a loose thread, one that has no damaging repercussions if I decide to have you removed. Do you understand?” 

You nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” Doomfist’s large gauntlet, with its golden fingers and heavy metal, was delicately laid upon your thinly padded shoulder. He held firm and Ramattra could see in your hardened stare a small spike of emotion breaking through. 

Fear. 

Ramattra could feel his system whirr alive from within his chest cavity, a fan kicking in to dispel a heat he hadn’t felt till that moment. 

“Very good.” Doomsift gave your shoulder a pat before he moved the heavy hand from your body, and your heart race quickened at the lack of his touch. Silent as the night, the tall Human walked back to the head of the table and sat down in a blackened swivel large chair. He sighed and closed his eyes, thinking. 

Reaper shifted his weight from side to side, waiting.

Sombra’s sharp eyes were fixated on Mimic, then onto Ramattra for a brief moment. 

“Ramattra.” Doomfist spoke and his golden gaze shifted to the Omnic. “If Agent Mimic was in your charge, how would you proceed with discipline?” 

Your eyes shifted to him, your fear growing cold in your once bright eyes that teased him with his own voice months ago, and Ramattra’s fan kicked up a level in intensity. You were breaking, as any Human would do in time. There was something undeniably egotistically uplifting at knowing your fate was dependent on his word; something cruel and bitter. Mondatta’s words of compassion echoed within Ramattra’s mind, a failure of a lesson, and it was one he swore never to head again. 

And yet. 

Ramattra uncrossed his arms and reached for his staff, with long metal fingers curling about the weapon’s shaft as he hummed a thought. “Were this left to me? This tool is still usable, even in such a blunder.” 

Your eyes never moved off Ramattra as he continued. “Agent Sombra has given her account on how Mimic’s network was undetectable, to herself and to Overwatch until the big reveal. With some reworking, and with proper guidance, this tool can be repurposed.”

Doomfist hummed deeply. “To be repurposed, a novel idea. And if I were to offer Mimic into your service?” 

The Omnic didn’t trust Doomfist as far as he could throw him. This was a trick. “I would decline.”

“I see.” Doomfist sighed. The tone was set and Mimic’s fate was sealed.

Unless Ramattra acted quickly. But did he want to? It was no secret you were using your network to watch him, an unspoken thing said in the report and after a quick dissection of your data. Why were you watching him? What did you want? Were you seeking the thrill of an obtuse fetish? Trying to gather information on Ramattra that could bring him down? Were you secretly working on the derivative of Talon? There were too many questions.

And thankfully for you, Ramattra wanted answers. 

“However,” Ramatta took a step forward, using some of his massive form to block you from Doomfist’s gaze. Your heart was accelerating at every passing second and there was a mild thrill for Ramattra in your panic. “If Mimic was to choose to transfer to my retinue, I would see this repurposing done. Personally.” 

“You believe they have a choice?” Doomfist raised a singular handsome brow. 

“I do. They can either accept the transfer,” Ramattra and everyone turned their attention to you, and he watched as you swallowed hard. “Or they die. There is no use in vague threats over their life now. They understand … don’t you, Agent Mimic?”

Your throat was so dry that it burned like a sunburn. You rolled your tongue behind closed teeth, trying to find some saliva for reprieve, but there was none. There was only one answer you could give. 

---

And that is how you ended up as the only Human in service of Null Sector, a Talon lesion for Ramattra’s personal use; half hacker and half confidant. Ramattra used your mimicry to every advantage, both in the physical sense and in data collection. You were given quarters deep within the recesses of his primary base, where the sun barely showed and work was grueling. But you were at least alive. You would adapt to your new life (for however long it lasted), as you had so long ago as a child. You swore to yourself to thrive, to make yourself useful, and to survive no matter what suffering the world would toss upon you. 

And of course, you wouldn’t let your flare fade away, not all the way at least. You just had to go about it differently then you had before. The first rule change was to not piss off Ramattra. The second was to not get caught.

So when you felt the need to speak to yourself, you did so in your room. You couldn’t hold back those ticks for sassy conversation. Using his voice, however meager and in private, provided some aspect that you still had free will in your new life. 

“Did you think me forgiving?” You asked yourself in Ramattra’s voice. 

“No, Sir.” You responded with a smile. “I think you are a dick.” 

“You dare?!” Ramatra’’s voice scoffed in your throat. “You’ll pay for that, little one.” 

“Oh, little one~? Don’t make a promise you can’t keep …” You blinked at that and felt your face flush. That came out of nowhere, and it was extremely unhealthy. Creepy and gross, even. You cleared your throat and reached for a cup of water, sipped it to soothe the ache from copying Ramattra’s deeper voice. 

“I’m fucking weird.” You chuckled at yourself nervously and got back to work, typing away at a report.

Meanwhile, from across the base, a solitary Omnic was in his workshop with an array of monitors before him. 

Ramattra knew your first task when setting up your room would be to weed out any listening devices and cameras, all which you found with ease … save one. But it’s location he kept to himself, for now.

You weren’t the only one who was capable of mimicking.

[swan-of-sunrise]

Three's Company (A Spellbinding-Verse Interlude)

Summary: A week before Christmas, (Y/N) and Loki help Peter maintain his secret identity and find themselves faced with a surprising addition to their happy duo.

Pairing: Loki X F!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi there! Today we've got a little holiday fluff for our favorite newlywed couple, and I'm not even joking when I say that this is pure tooth-rotting fluff lol thank you all so much for reading, I hope that you enjoy! (And happy holidays!!)

Three’s Company December 17th, 2016 Avengers Tower, New York City (Spellbinding Masterlist)

After drilling the last screw into the wall, (Y/N) set the heavy power tool down on an empty shelf and leaned back to admire her handiwork with a proud smile on her face. “There! Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

The door opened and she glanced over her shoulder to see Loki saunter into their new shared suite, an impressed grin spreading across her husband’s handsome face when he spotted her fully assembled bookshelf. “Darling, while it’s commendable that you pieced together this infernal Ikea bookshelf all by yourself, why in all the Nine Realms didn’t you just use your Alf Seidr?”

“Because I wanted the satisfaction of having conquered this stupid piece of furniture with my own bare hands,” (Y/N) confidently answered back, drawing a chuckle from Loki as he moved to stand beside her ladder. “And besides, I lived almost all my life without resorting to magic to solve all of my problems; I hardly think it’d be right to start now, even if it meant spending an entire day assembling this damn bookshelf and missing out on-” At that exact moment, the shelf bearing her clunky electric drill collapsed and set off a chain reaction that saw each shelf fall one by one, the last of them slamming against the ladder’s leg and sending her toppling backwards into her husband’s waiting arms. “…Lunch.”

Taking note of the purple-hued glow beginning to emanate from the palms of (Y/N)’s hands, Loki hummed in sympathy and pressed a comforting kiss onto her furrowed brow. “You’ve lost this battle, darling, but you certainly won’t lose the war. How about I draw you a bubble bath and prepare dinner while you relax for a spell, and then the both of us can conquer the bookshelf after we eat?”

(Y/N) heaved an exasperated sigh but gave him a relenting nod, willing her magic away and giving her husband a thankful kiss before pulling back and flashing him a flirtatious smile. “Or…you could always order some take-out and join me in the bath? My arms are pretty sore, after all, and I might need a little help washing my back.”

“Are you trying to tempt me, darling?” Loki arched an inquiring brow as a mischievous smirk played on his lips, his emerald-green eyes alight with a burning desire that sent shivers of anticipation through her body. “Because if so, you should know that it’s working remarkably well.”

Giggling, (Y/N) looped her arms around his neck and leaned in for a kiss, but a frantic knocking on their suite’s door caused them both to jump as the romantic atmosphere was shattered by the reality of their superhero lives. They exchanged matching looks of regret and once Loki carefully set her onto her feet, they both crossed the room to see who was on the other side of their door; when (Y/N) opened the door, her brows furrowed in concern when the panicked and pale face of Peter Parker was revealed. “Peter? Is something wrong?”

“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost,” Loki observed, throwing (Y/N) a worried glance as he opened the door wider and ushered the teenager into their suite. “You haven’t attempted to prank Romanoff, have you? Because I already warned you once that your young age won’t stop her from seeking swift revenge for whatever scheme you might dare to concoct.”

Peter shook his head as he began to quickly pace across their living room, and it was then that they both spotted the large cardboard box clutched tight in his arms. “No, no, of course not; if the God of Mischief himself warns me not to prank someone, then I’m definitely gonna pay attention.” The teenager carefully set the box down onto their couch and started to unfurl its lid. “I’ve got a pretty big problem that I could really, really use your guys’ help with.”

“Well, I’m sure that we can help you with…” (Y/N)’s reassuring words trailed off when a muffled bark emanated from the box and a moment later, the small black head of an excited dog popped up and gave Peter’s hand a slobbering lick. “A puppy?”

“While I was out on patrol earlier in Queens, I stopped a couple of jerks from jacking my neighbor’s car and beating him up and to thank me, he gave me one of his flat-coated retriever’s new puppies; I can’t keep him, ‘cause Mr. Rodriguez gave him to Spider-Man and if he sees me with this little guy in the apartment building, then he’ll start to suspect who I am and then he’ll tell Aunt May and then?” Peter sighed as he plopped down onto the couch beside the box and scratched the onyx-colored puppy behind his floppy ear. “Then I’ll be toast with a capital ‘T.’”

Taking a seat on the other side of the box, Loki confidently extended his hand out for the puppy to sniff and chuckled to himself when he began to lightly gnaw on his long fingers. “So, what would you like us to do?”

“Well, I texted MJ and she said she’d help me find a good home for him but she’s gonna be out of town for a week to visit her grandparents, so…could he maybe stay here until she gets back? Please?”

(Y/N) bit her lower lip in contemplation, torn between her desire to help the desperate teenager avoid accidentally revealing his secret identity to his aunt and entire apartment building and her uneasiness around dogs of all shapes and sizes; because of her aunt’s meager salary as a music tutor and their strict building manager, she never had a dog while growing up and very rarely had the opportunity to interact with one, leading to a reluctant but life-long wariness of them as a whole. But as she watched her beaming husband lift the puppy out of the box and cradle him in his arms while the puppy’s tail excitedly wagged in response to Peter’s ear scratches, her pursed lips softened into a small smile. “Well, since it’s only for a week…I suppose we can look after him for you.”

“Thank you, Miss (Y/L/N)!” Peter jumped to his feet and flung his arms around her in an overly-enthusiastic bear-hug. “I’ve gotta head home and finish up my Trig homework before Aunt May comes back from grocery shopping, so I’ll see you guys next Saturday!”

After giving a bemused Loki a fist-bump and patting the top of the puppy’s head one last time, Peter dashed out of their suite and used his web shooters to close the door behind him. Her husband shook his head in amusement before looking over at her with a pleased smile spreading across his face. “That was very generous of you, darling; I know that you’re not exactly comfortable around canines.”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Peter needed help, and I still owe him one. Nothing could ever repay him for saving my life, but working to keep his secret identity a secret for a little while longer seems like a good place to start.” A dark shadow crossed Loki’s handsome features as the abrupt reminder of her near-death experience in the wake of the Battle of Boston hung heavy in the air, and she leaned down to press a soothing kiss onto his cheek before moving to sit on the arm of the couch right beside him. “And besides, I was thinking that this might be a good opportunity to rectify my inexperience with dogs.”

“And you just couldn’t turn down this adorable little face,” Loki lifted the puppy so that their faces were side-by-side and playfully pouted, making (Y/N) roll her eyes at his playful teasing. “Could you, my love?”

A reluctant smile began to play on her lips and while her husband grinned in triumph, the puppy let out a joyful bark and licked the entire side of his face, causing his nose to scrunch up in displeasure as she giggled in amusement. “It looks like the God of Mischief has finally met his match!” Throwing caution to the wind, she stretched a hand out and ran her fingers through the thatch of onyx-hued fur around the puppy’s neck, her shoulders relaxing and her smile softening when she saw his tail vigorously wagging in response. “I think we’re all going to get along just fine this week.”

Loki, setting the puppy down onto the ground and wiping the dog slobber off of his cheek with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, chuckled to himself as he gently pulled her onto his lap and wound his arms around her waist. “It’ll certainly be an adventure; if this little one is anything like the hounds that Thor and I grew up around, then you and I won’t be getting much rest for the foreseeable future.”

“But he’s just a little puppy, sweetheart! How much trouble could he possibly cause?”

The sudden clatter of the ladder toppling over onto the ground caused them both to jump in surprise, and (Y/N)’s head whipped around just in time to see the rambunctious puppy speed by and clamp his small jaw onto the hem of their living room curtains. Loki’s emerald-green eyes sparkled with mirth as he glanced over at her, and his voice shook with barely-concealed amusement as he replied, “Oh, I’m sure he’ll come up with an idea or two.”

It was when (Y/N) and Loki were attempting to coax the puppy into letting go of the torn curtains and the puppy decided that it was the perfect time to relieve himself that (Y/N) started to realize that it would be a long, long week.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m pretty sure I told you that the training bot was just for running your sword drills, Melisandre, not your Alf Seidr,” Tony joked as he yanked the dismembered torso of an Iron Legion droid out of the training room’s wall. “He’s only been rated to handle medieval-style combat; I haven’t figured out how to make him immune to Light Elf magic.”

(Y/N) tossed one of the droid’s legs into the pile of limbs and winced at the harsh sound it made. “Sorry, Tony.”

“What made you go all Cosmic Sorceress on the poor guy, anyhow?” Natasha asked, setting the fire extinguisher down and crossing her arms over her chest as her expression morphed into a look of concern. “Usually you have a pretty good handle on your emotions and your magic during your workouts and drills. Do I have to grab my Widow Bites and go have a little chat with that husband of yours?”

“Don’t worry, it’s not about Loki.” Giving the spy an exasperated smile, (Y/N) flicked her wrist and used her swirling purple-hued magic to repair the damaged wall before them. “It’s about that puppy we’re taking care of as a favor to Peter.”

The billionaire shrugged as he began re-assembling the dismembered droid. “Puppies are hard work; at least he’ll be out of your hair by this time tomorrow and you two’ll have a canine-free Christmas.”

“That’s sort of the problem…” Both Tony and Natasha frowned in confusion and (Y/N) continued. “He’s grown pretty attached to the little guy; he takes him for walks, plays with him for hours, and even cooks him fresh food for every meal. And look, this is what I woke up to this morning,” (Y/N) trailed off as she strode over to the nearest bench to retrieve her cell phone, opening her photo gallery and showing her friends the image on the screen; it showed a sleeping Loki sprawled out beneath their thick bedding, one arm tucked beneath her pillow while the fingers of his free hand were weaved around the onyx-colored fur of the snoring puppy that was curled up close beside him. “They’re adorable together, aren’t they?”

Natasha smiled at the photo. “I never knew that Loki was a dog-guy; I always figured that he’d get along better with cats.”

“Temperamental and aloof? Yeah, that’s our Reindeer Games,” Tony chuckled, tightening the bolts connecting the droid’s head to its neck and throwing (Y/N) an inquisitive look. “Sounds like the solution to your little problem is to adopt the pooch; the doggie gets a loving home with you two and Loki’s heart won’t be broken, so it’s a win-win.”

“Unless…” The spy tilted her head as she absentmindedly fiddled with the end of her long braid. “Do you not like the puppy?”

(Y/N) emphatically shook her head. “I absolutely love the puppy! It’s just that…well, Loki and I are Avengers with close ties to different realms; we never know when we’ll be assigned a mission or how long we’ll be gone from the tower, and we’re always traveling to and from Asgard and Alfheim. Wouldn’t all that combined make for an unstable and pretty lonely life for a dog?”

“If you and Loki were normal people with normal careers, yeah, but like you said, you’re both Avengers. You two’ve got a tower full of friends who’d love nothing more than to dog-sit for you, or do really anything for you, to be honest.” Natasha reached out and slung an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders as she gave her a reassuring smile. “I promise you right here and now that that dog’ll never be lonely while we’re around.”

“And besides, you two’re pretty set on having kids someday, right?” A grinning Tony shrugged his shoulders in a playful manner. “Seems to me like getting a dog is the best crash-course in parenting to have before a little bundle of joy comes along.”

(Y/N)’s heart warmed in her chest at the helpful words of her friends, her earlier fears and reservations beginning to dissipate as she finally allowed herself to imagine their happy duo expanding into a more chaotic but even happier trio. “Well, in that case…it looks like Loki’s getting an extra Christmas present this year.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On Christmas Eve, after they’d come home from the charity Avengers ice skating party at Rockefeller Center with the knowledge that they raised hundreds of thousands of dollars for a handful of children’s charities, (Y/N) and Loki bundled up in their coziest sweatpants, stockings and ugly Christmas sweaters and lounged on their suite’s couch together, where they basked in the bright glow of their illuminated tree and sipped their hot chocolate as they debated which Christmas movie to watch.

“It appears as though we’ve reached an impasse, darling,” Loki sighed dramatically, his long fingers fiddling with the fuzzy end of his Santa hat as he fought to keep the mischievous smile off his face; parting with the puppy they’d been briefly fostering earlier that day had been a subtle but significant blow to him, so it was nice to see that their evening of ice skating had helped to cheer him up. “It’s between a surprisingly faithful adaptation of Charles Dickens’ timeless tale of the true meaning of Christmas that stars the delightful Muppets, and a film that depicts the many misdemeanors and felonies that an eight-year-old commits after his rather neglectful family leaves him home alone for Christmas.”

“Mm-hmm. Decisions, decisions…” (Y/N) playfully pondered as she tilted her head to the side in faux contemplation, the colorful jingle bells decorating her reindeer antler headband sounding and making her husband’s eyes twinkle in silent amusement. “How about this: we can watch The Muppet Christmas Carol tonight, if…”

Loki arched a curious brow. “If?”

“If…you let me give you one of your Christmas gifts first.” She watched while he considered her offer, silent anticipation bubbling up within her as she continued. “There’s no catch, sweetheart; this is just the sort of gift I’d rather give you in private than in front of the others tomorrow morning.” His emerald-green eyes darkened with an all-too familiar desire and she shot him an exasperated look. “It’s not that sort of gift, Loki Odinson. So, how about it?”

“Well, I do enjoy receiving gifts and since you’re such an excellent gift-giver,” He grinned and shook her outstretched hand. “Then I graciously accept.”

With an excited smile on her face, (Y/N) extricated herself from her husband’s arms and hurried over to retrieve a small wrapped package from beneath their Christmas tree, plopping back down onto the couch and eagerly watching while a bemused Loki worked on opening it; when he removed the lid, he cocked his head and looked up at her with polite curiosity. “It’s…a tiny green sweater?”

“Oh, did I forget to tell you? This gift’s a two-parter!” Raising her hand, (Y/N) summoned her Alf Seidr and flicked her wrist, sending a ball of purple-hued magic across the room and using it to create a crackling portal, beaming as a familiar onyx-colored puppy dashed through and leaped onto a surprised Loki’s lap with a joyful bark. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

“But I thought…? Didn’t Parker come by this morning to take him away?”

Pleased that she’d managed to successfully out-trick the God of Mischief himself, (Y/N) smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “I may or may not have called him yesterday to tell him that we were considering adopting him; after he left, he dropped him off at the lab so that Bruce and J.A.R.V.I.S. could keep an eye on him until tonight.”

Loki’s eyes went wide and filled with an earnest emotion as his long fingers scratched behind the happy puppy’s ears. “My love, I…I-I don’t know what to say. Are you certain about this?”

“Absolutely,” She replied and leaned over to press a sweet kiss onto his smiling lips. “…But I do have one little request, if you don’t mind.”

“Anything, darling.”

“Can we name him Mischief?”

Before Loki could answer, the sound of shredding paper caused them both to look down and they laughed at the sight of the puppy vigorously tearing into the wrinkled wrapping paper. “It would seem as though he’s already decided that for me, doesn’t it?” (Y/N) giggled when Mischief barked and licked the side of her face, and Loki grinned before kissing her forehead and ruffling the onyx fur of Mischief’s fluffy neck. “Welcome to our little family, Mischief.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: See? I wasn't lying about the tooth-rotting fluff lol thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk?si=5fcb3ef04de544e7

“Spellbinding” Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva​​​​​​​​​​​ @ravenclawbitch426​​​​​​​​​​​ @cminr​​​​​​​​​ @confusedfandomwriter​​​​​​​​​​​ @momc95​​​​​​​​​​​ @nickkie99​​​​​​​​​​​ @austynparksandpizza​​​​​​​​​​​ @brooke0297​​​​​​​​​​​ @a-laufeyson​​​​​​​​​​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​​​​​​​​​ @itscomplicatedx​​​​​​​​​​​​ @0-artemis​​​​​​​​​​​​ @vivloki​​​​​​​​​​​​ @crowleysqueenofhell​​​​​​​​​​​​ @groovy-lady​​​​​​​​ @mostclevermiss​​​​​​      

[morataarts]

Long post!!

Some stuff I wrote today inspired on my drawings :D

I'm not the best writer so sorry for any errors

Enjoy !

Macaque fights Wukong

Disclaimer I made this as a guide so it's not supper detailed for that

Macaque leaves the place MK and him were staying at and goes to get new tools, food and other bare necessities like clothes for MK

“Last on the list... my dojo, that kid broke the last tools we had there” he sighs as he starts collecting various weapons that could be useful in training the unstable MK that fell at his door asking for solitude and training

“Macaque”

The dojo turns a golden color lighting everything

Astral projection and the voice, Wukong

He turns around to face the voice “Wukong! Astral projection?…you must be pretty desperate to do this” he says as he turns around continuing with the task at hand

“what can i help the great king in this fine day?” He says with sarcasm in his voice

“you know damn well what im here for macaque” exasperation fills the golden monkeys voice

“No, i have no idea what you’re talking about” macaque keeps ignoring the other collecting what he needs and going through the list he has, almost completing it

“Macaque im not playing around your stupid games” slightly raising his voice “where’s MK”

Macaque breathes trough his teeth “uuuh sorry can’t tell you…” he turns around collecting the bag of weapons, swings it on his back securing the straps and looks at wukong raising a smirk “that’s confidential info, welp see you next time bud”

As macaque was leaving wukong’s voice roze “Macaque i swear if you don’t tell me where MK is i-“ wukong pointed a finger at macaque who was watching him with a growing angered expression

“you what Wukong? What are you going to do? The kid left on his own and stoped at my door looking for help” he pointed a finger at himself and fixed his bag “he was terrified of his power and of hurting anyone, for heavens sake he was scared of his own kaiju!!” he sighs “I didn’t kidnap your student if that’s what you're implying, he went to me for a reason and he wants to be alone for a reason” he points a finger this time at Wukong’s chest “leave him be and for once be something you never where” he grabs the bag he left by the door and opens a portal “patient” he leaves through the portal ending the astral projection and arriving to his place of stay with Mk

Leaving wukong back in pigsy’s restaurant speechless and with no answer for the others

_______________________________

Context to my “i miss my friends” drawing I made

“That’s it! Get into it and feel it” macaque moves quickly dodging and hitting MK “make it feel as if it was normal, as blood pumping or as breathing, remember relax into it, its a part of you”

Mk breaths and pants trying to concentrate and follow up with Macaque trying to control his glowing monkey form but suddenly “ach” Mk falls to the floor seemingly in pain holding his head

“Shit…MK!” Macaque hurries to Mk’s side and holds his arms “calm down MK!!” MK mind runs while hearing the scrolls words

‘chaos harbringer’

“stop stop STOP!”

The earth slightly shatters, tears flow from MK’s eyes

“Don’t let it control you kid, you’re way stronger than that!!” macaque screams trying to calm down MK, kaiju flowing out and forming before them “Mk listen to me calm down you are safe! You are not what you think you are! Snap out of it kid!”

Mk’s kaiju retreats and he goes back to normal breathing hard, tears still falling trough, he feels a warm embrace holding tight and he reciprocates while sobbing into macaque’s shoulder

Things calm down sometime later and they are sitting on the edge of the mountain, clothes changed and wounds cured

MK thinks of everyone back home and how they might be doing, he thinks about the choice he made a month ago to leave and get macaque to help him control something like himself

“I miss everyone macaque”

Macaque looks at Mk, worry and sadness fill his face

“Im sure they miss you as well kid” macaque looks back to the horizon, feeling Mk press up against his shoulder and on instinct he wraps an arm against Mk

Mk sniffles “you really think so?” He smiles weakly, macaque smiles back “oh I know so kid”

Macaque remembers the time when they where still staying at his house and on the middle of the night Wukong decided on astral projecting to him repeating ‘give me your location, give me your location, give me your locat-‘ ‘omg fuck off wukong’ but too no avail

It lasted all night…

Macaque shudders at the thought

he hates seeing mk like this, but he knows Mk need this time away from everything and gather his thoughts, without the pressure and the constant nagging of the world

“Well lets go have dinner, you have a long day tomorrow” macaque stands reaching a hand to mk who giggles “i thought everyday was a long one at this point” they follow arm to arm reaching their stay “well tomorrow will probably be a little bit more difficult”

“ill be ready for it!” He puffs his chest, macaque chuckles “im sure of it kid”

“Thanks macaque, for helping me”

“You’re welcome kid, anytime”

Thank you for reading 💞 :D

[zarvasace]

Vollan

Hearts Linked Together character masterpost

Link Vollan is vaguely Swedish. He has never had most of his left arm, which he didn't actually realize was strange for a long time, because he was raised by the dwindling Minish population. He's the cryptid hero mentioned in the Four Swords game that was bundled with Link to the Past once. He came out of the forest, split into four, defeated Vaati, and returned to the forest, never to be seen again. He chose his last name, which means roughly "lives in a meadow."

Vollan has a talent for channeling environmental magic, which is why the Picori Blade turned into the Four Sword when he wielded it. He prefers the company of animals. He's an amazing survivalist, though he is used to a lush kind of coniferous forest. He's very kind but very awkward around people.

Before meeting other Links, he'd assumed he would spend the rest of his life a loner in the woods. After meeting them, he gets a cabin on the edge of town and brings in game sometimes and starts to make friends. He eventually courts and marries a brash redhead with a lot of friends.

His version of splitting into four different versions of himself didn't involve fully realized individuals, just literal pieces of him. He didn't really enjoy the experience, and only splits now if he needs to have a serious emotions talk. It left him with mental scars, and he occasionally hallucinates the feeling of multiple bodies. His nephew takes the Four Sword to the Sanctuary after his death.

--- (634 words and bigger art under cut!)

Today was the day. 

Today was the day. Today was probably the most day of them all.

Link tried to ignore the way his palm sweated as he stared out at the town that stood bustling on the other side of a thin line of trees. There were just so many people, everywhere out there: walking on the dirt roads, talking to friends, tending animals, swinging hammers on glowing metal…

He'd been there before, of course, several times. Perhaps even a dozen. That didn't even count the time that he'd marched in, gotten information about Vaati, and headed out again. That had been terrifying, and an entirely different town. He hadn't been able to bring himself to visit that one again. 

This one, however, contained his goal: a very fancy (to him) knife. All of his were old, sharpened too many times, wearing out. He'd seen one on an earlier foray, last year, so he was pretty confident they'd have one. 

Hopefully his pouch of rupees would do. He had a lot, after his adventure and all he'd gathered. 

Link took a breath, wiped his hand on his tunic, and stepped out toward the nearest building. 

One step in front of the other. Dust kicked up under his feet. Were people staring at him? Oh, gods. Did they recognize him? Was his tunic a strange color? It was his arm, wasn't it. Or maybe his eyes. He'd noticed that most people had the same color in both of them. 

Could he go back to the forest already? 

No. He had a mission. An important one. A knife was the most crucial tool he owned, and it would be so nice to have a new one. 

Link found a shop that sold knives fairly quickly. Nice of them to have a picture of a knife above the door. He could read, but it took a bit of effort. He pushed in, startled at the bell, and found the nearest knife on display that didn't have fancy etchings or a hilt inlaid with opal. He hefted it, looked down the spine for straightness, and took it to the counter. It made a nice, heavy clunk. It would do nicely, yes. 

The man there, heavy with a mustache, leaned forward on his elbows. His caterpillar eyebrows rose quite high. "You want to buy that?" 

Link nodded. Then, remembering his manners, added, "Y-yes, sir." His stutter came out to play, with how hard he was trying to look normal. Great. 

The man eyed him, the patches on his tunic, and the green needles in his hair. Oh, whoops.

Link combed those out. "I-I-I can pay." His hand hovered over the pouch at his waist, a magical one with all of his things in it. He'd be prepared no matter what happened. As he'd been taught, though, he didn't reveal how much he had. 

The man picked up the knife. "A hundred and three rupees for this one. It's quite the knife."

A hundred and three? Oh, Link had that easily. He didn't feel up to haggling today. He dug into his pouch, pulled out the requisite amount in a total of five cut gems, and handed them over. 

Although the man had to think that Link was strange, he sold the knife. Link managed a smile and a thank you, but not a goodbye. He wrapped the knife in the bit of leather he'd saved and tucked it away. 

Just before Link exited the shop, a feeling deep in his gut called out to him. He paused, getting a read on it. Natural and yet unnatural, the feeling urged him to turn the handle of the door. It wasn't malicious, at least. Link hesitated one more moment. 

The shop bell rang again as he stepped out into mist. 

[goodfish-bowl]

Saving Throw

Ectoberhaunt 2023 Day 6: Tabletop

AO3 Link

Summary: Danny invites Sam and Tucker over to play D&D, asking Spike for a favor to DM the game for them.

Warnings: minor character death, only dialog

Words: 829

“Okay, I’m going to enter the dungeon.”

“I follow into the dungeon.”

“I…  also follow into the dungeon.”

“Okay… so what do we see?”

“It seems to be some sort of laboratory, with metal tables lined up against the walls, open chests full of vials and potions all this bright green color. There are all sorts of tools, journals, and pieces of… something, lying on the tables, and it’s decently cold down here. And, taking up the entire back wall is a cavern, circled by runes, that the entire laboratory seems centered around. What do you do?”

“Oh! The artificer in me loves this place already! I go and investigate the things on the table! Gotta start with the small stuff before looking at the big picture.”

“Yeah, have fun with that. I go and investigate the big hole in the wall.” 

“Eh, why not? I follow… Raven to the back.” 

“Okay, Swave, let’s start with you. I need you to roll both an arcana and… eh, an investigation check works.”

“Cool, okay… that’s a… 7 for arcana and 16 for investigation.”

“So, on the table, you can definitely tell whoever lives here was tinkering with something magic, but you can’t tell what kind other than green and glowy. It’s just a bit too far removed from your area of expertise. Whatever it is, they don’t seem to be getting the results they want, judging from the notes. But, they’ve definitely accomplished something recently.”

“Damn, really wish I rolled higher on that arcana.”

“It is what it is. So, with Raven and Orion. Now that you’re closer, you notice that there are runes inscribed around the cavern, roll an Arcana.”

“Nice, 18 plus 3, 21.”

“I rolled an 8.”

“Okay, well, Raven, you completely recognize these runes, you even notice some blatant errors in some of them. They seem to be an activation sequence of some kind, a gate, even. Orion, you know what a small handful of the runes mean, but nothing coherent.”

“Okay… I uh… go inside the cavern.”

“Eh! I dunno dude, I don’t think it’s a good idea to walk into the giant magic gate in the underground lab.”

“Nah, let him, I’m curious.”

“It’s too late to take it back now. Raven, what are you doing while he’s walking inside?”

“Hmmm, do I notice Orion walking inside?”

“Roll a perception.”

“… that’s a solid 3.”

“Then no.”

“Okay, I’m going to fix the runes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Hey! Don’t do that! I’m literally walking inside of it right now! Can’t you wait until I’m out?”

“First off, I didn’t notice you go inside, second, the runes are wrong, of course I’m going to fix them. It’s what my character would do!”

“Oh no…” 

“Swave, I want you to also roll a perception check.”

“… Sorry dude, that’s a 5 at best.”

“Ughhhh.”

“Raven, roll an arcana again to correct the runes.”

“17.”

“Congrats, you’ve fixed the runes. Orion, roll a dex save.”

“NO!”

“AH!”

“Oops.”

“… a 2.”

“Ouch, man. Okay, so Raven and Swave. As Orion enters the cavern, and Raven fixes the runes, they start glowing, and there’s a tearing sound as green pours out from the hole in the wall.”

“NOooOooo…”

“Hmm, just for kicks, Orion, roll a con save.”

“Okay… man, this sucks, first session and I’m already… that’s a nat 20.”

“Seriously?!”

“Wow, this will be interesting. So, Orion, as you enter the cavern, now known to be a portal, it lights up with green magic, and races through you, like it’s cooking you alive. But due to the force, it launches you out, and you land in the middle of the laboratory floor… Lower your hp to 1, and use up two death saves. Also, change your race to tiefling. I’ll send you the rest of the stuff when I figure it out.”

“YOOO!”

“Haha… yeah… wow.”

“Hey, Spike, thanks for coming over to DM today.”

“No problem. It’s good to help a friend's sibling with something I’m good at. Especially when he’s trying to make new friends, and it’s not like Jazz was ever going to call in that favor.”

“Yeah, it was really cool. Thank you, but wasn’t it a bit ‘on the nose’ to use my parent’s basement as a reference?”

“Hey, it’s a good inspiration. Besides, you’re the one who walked into it, prior knowledge or not.” 

“Haha… yeah that’s on me… didn’t think it was actually going to do anything until Sam decided to fix the runes.” 

“Yeah, not the best move from a group perspective. But… Jazz said they’re expecting to finish it within the next year.”

“Yeah… maybe. Most of their stuff just covers us in goo. I just hope they finish it soon… they’ve been down there a lot, ya know?”

“Yeah… I do.”

“Anyways, I’m sure I’ll see you around. I’ll tell Jazz you said ‘hi’ whenever she gets home from tutoring.”

“Thanks, little dude. See you around.”

“Later.”

Ectoberhaunt 2023 Master Post

[starseedfxofficial]

European Markets Surge—What Construction & NVIDIA Mean for Forex The Undercover Trend Boosting European Bourses (And What It Means for You) It’s a good day in Europe—the kind of day when even your skeptical cousin with that “I only invest in crypto” attitude might glance at the green board and give a nod. European bourses opened brightly today, with all major markets moving firmly into the green. Let's decode what this means for you, the savvy trader. European Gains: The Hidden Player Behind the Numbers So, why are the markets glowing like a trader after a winning streak? Well, today it's all about positive risk sentiment. It’s a bit like that feeling you get when you find a winning trade others missed—the Construction & Materials sector is topping the leaderboard, with Tech and Basic Resources tailing close behind. But don’t be fooled; this is no free-for-all. The market’s positive breadth remains relatively narrow, meaning it’s mostly good news, but not quite the fireworks display we hope for. In the background, Real Estate—the sector we all secretly want to love but often let collect dust—is struggling. Blame it on those pesky higher yields. It’s like trying to jump hurdles with a new pair of cement boots. Why Construction & Materials Are Leading—And How You Could Benefit Okay, so Construction & Materials are having their moment, but why? Well, think of it this way: when governments and big players sense a bit of optimism, they often throw a lot of money into big infrastructure projects. And when the money flows, these stocks tend to shine like an old favorite tool pulled out from the back of your toolbox. That’s where you, the Forex insider, can find a unique edge. These infrastructure projects don’t just boost stocks—they stir the pot for currency movements, especially in economies heavily investing in infrastructure. If Europe’s building, chances are the Euro might start to shift gears too. U.S. Equities Hint at a Tepid Rally—Eyes on NVIDIA Across the Atlantic, U.S. equity futures are up, but just barely—like someone hitting snooze on an alarm clock. S&P 500, Nasdaq, and Russell 2000 futures are all moving at a modest +0.2%. Traders are already looking forward to NVIDIA’s earnings like it’s the season finale of their favorite TV show. Spoiler alert: the AI darling could either shoot for the moon or face a bumpy ride, with a 9.9% move priced in by options traders. NVIDIA's earnings are more than just a stock ticker—they're a lighthouse for the tech industry. You see, when NVIDIA’s data center revenue—expected around USD 28.51 billion—is climbing, it’s not just stocks that react. Currency traders watch too, especially those whose economies hinge on tech exports. It's the kind of news that could make tech-heavy currencies wiggle with excitement. NVIDIA, AI, and the Currency Question Here's the kicker: while NVIDIA is an S&P 500 star, its influence casts a long shadow over other tech-heavy indexes and sectors. If the results come in better than expected, we could see a surge in the Nasdaq, followed by moves in Forex markets like the USD/JPY or EUR/USD—currencies typically sensitive to risk-on/risk-off sentiment in the tech space. But what’s even juicier for the in-the-know Forex trader is understanding the supply-side issues NVIDIA faces. With limited supply of their next-gen Blackwell chip, there could be an interesting ripple effect. If tech struggles to keep pace due to component shortages, markets could react negatively, and a sudden risk-off sentiment might push safer currencies (like the Yen) higher. A Quick Thought: Supply Constraints and How You Can Act Remember Morgan Stanley’s note about cautious projections due to supply constraints? That’s a potential goldmine for a contrarian play. If the crowd starts losing its cool over short-term NVIDIA issues, currencies like the Swiss Franc (safe-haven classic) could see some action. Look for opportunities in the news that signal supply delays—it could give you the chance to ride the risk-off wave. How to Use This News for Your Forex Advantage To sum it all up: European markets are up, U.S. futures are taking a cautious step forward, and NVIDIA could make or break today’s mood across the board. If you’re keeping an eye on major currencies, don’t overlook the nuances behind infrastructure booms and tech earnings like NVIDIA—they’re a trader's hidden signal. - Opportunities Today: Watch European data releases that hint at more infrastructure spending. Positive numbers could buoy the Euro. - Tech Watch: NVIDIA’s results could impact broader tech sentiment, with FX implications for the USD, JPY, and potentially even the GBP. - Stay Agile: Supply constraints in tech are an opportunity—if things look tough for NVIDIA, think about safe-haven currencies and risk-off movements. Markets can be a minefield, but with a discerning eye, there’s gold to be found. Stay sharp, stay agile, and as always, use what the big players overlook to carve out your gains. And hey, if you’re looking for even more of these hidden gems, consider joining the StarseedFX community—where insider tips and elite tactics are always just a click away. Latest Forex News | Forex Courses | Community Membership | Free Trading Tools —————– Image Credits: Cover image at the top is AI-generated   Read the full article

[maxstudioed]

Enhance Your Halloween Photos with Spooky Filters and Background Blur

Why Use Halloween Filters for Your Photos?

A Halloween filter is a great way to set the tone of your photos and add a layer of thematic artistry to them. These filters are designed to evoke spooky feelings through colors, shadows, and effects that make your photos appear as if they were taken in a world of fantasy. The effect of a Halloween filter can range from making a photo appear hauntingly cold to adding ominous lighting that creates an air of mystery. By playing around with a few filters, you can select the one that enhances the Halloween vibe you want to project, from eerie darkness to a blood-red glow.

Using filters for Halloween isn't just about aesthetics; it's also a chance to convey a story or emotion through your photos. Imagine a photo where the filter casts a shadowy, foggy effect that brings out the details of your costume and surroundings, adding a ghostly hue to your image. These elements draw viewers into the scene, creating a sense of suspense or excitement about the holiday. It’s a simple yet effective way to bring your Halloween photos to life without needing additional props or costly editing software.

The Art of Background Blurring: Adding Depth and Focus

Another key technique to elevate your Halloween photos is toblur background in photo online. Blurring the background can emphasize the subject, making it the focal point of the image while the surroundings fade into soft, unobtrusive shapes. This method is especially useful when you want viewers to focus on specific elements, such as your costume details, makeup, or facial expressions.

When using a blur effect, you have the opportunity to create an illusion of depth. The blurred background gives the impression of a professional-quality photograph, adding sophistication to the image. For Halloween photos, this effect is particularly beneficial because it allows the subject to stand out against spooky settings, such as dimly lit forests, abandoned houses, or decorated backdrops. A blurred background emphasizes these creepy elements without letting them distract from the main focus of your photo.

Combining Halloween Filters and Background Blur for a Haunting Effect

If you're aiming for the ultimate Halloween photo, combining both a Halloween filter and a background blur can create an impressive visual effect. For instance, start with a spooky filter that gives your image an eerie atmosphere—maybe a greenish or bluish tint that casts a ghostly glow on your skin. Then, blur background in photo online to bring even more attention to your figure, costume, or facial expressions. Together, these techniques create a layered look that draws viewers in, inviting them to imagine a whole Halloween narrative behind your photo.

This combination is particularly effective in staged Halloween setups, where you may have multiple props, other people, or busy surroundings that could otherwise distract from the photo's intended effect. The filter sets the mood, while the blurred background helps isolate the main elements of the image. Whether you're standing in front of a haunted house or posing at a Halloween party, the combination of these two effects can add a magical, haunting quality that instantly conveys the Halloween spirit.

Achieving High-Quality Edits Online: Tools and Tips

Achieving high-quality edits no longer requires complex software or advanced photography skills. Today, various online tools make it easy to apply a Halloween filter and blur background in photo online without professional editing knowledge. Many of these tools are free and accessible from both mobile and desktop devices, allowing you to create impressive edits with just a few clicks.

To apply a Halloween filter, look for online photo editors that offer a wide range of thematic filters. Choose one that highlights the eerie elements of your image while complementing your costume or setting. Some filters might offer additional options, such as adjusting color tones or adding overlays, which can add to the filter’s impact.

Blurring backgrounds online is also straightforward with these tools. Simply upload your photo, select the blur effect, and adjust the strength to your preference. Some platforms even allow you to manually select the areas to blur, giving you greater control over the final image. Whether you're a beginner or an experienced editor, these tools provide an accessible way to achieve polished Halloween photos.

Bringing Halloween to Life with Photo Effects

When using both Halloween filters and blur effects, consider how they can elevate your storytelling. Each photo is an opportunity to convey a unique Halloween scene or character. With the right filter, your costume transforms into something more chilling, and with a blurred background, you give the setting a mysterious allure. These effects can make your Halloween photos feel like scenes from a horror film or pages from a ghost story.

For example, if you’re dressed as a witch, a Halloween filter with cool tones and a foggy overlay can create a mystical atmosphere. By blurring the background, you can make it appear as though you’re standing in an enchanted forest, with no details to break the eerie spell. Likewise, a vampire costume can benefit from a darker filter and blurred surroundings, giving the impression of stepping out from the shadows.

These creative elements not only enhance the appearance of your photos but also enable you to express a whole storyline. You can experiment with different filters and blur settings to capture various emotions—mystery, fear, suspense, or excitement—making each photo more than just an image, but a Halloween experience in itself.

Capturing the Halloween Spirit with Simple Techniques

As Halloween approaches, preparing costumes and decorations can be time-consuming, but don’t let that stop you from creating stunning photos. By using a Halloween filter andblur background in photo online, you can elevate any ordinary shot into something truly captivating. These edits are easy to apply, often requiring only a few minutes, yet the impact they have on the final image is significant. They allow you to showcase your Halloween creativity in a polished, professional-looking format that doesn’t require extensive resources or time.

Halloween is a time for playfulness and creativity, and with these photo effects, you can fully embrace the season. Filters and background blurring allow you to capture the spooky, mysterious, and exciting elements that define the holiday. So this Halloween, go beyond basic snapshots and dive into the world of thematic editing to create memories that are as haunting as they are memorable.

[bronze-bell]

Even as Frederick watched over Victor and Aesop from a distance, he couldn't help but smile, knowing they were comfortable, knowing they were warm and safe and that they had somewhere they could go if they needed to.

Both of the others were quite visibly asleep, and the sky was growing dark, anyway. Maybe it would be best to have them over for the night. Maybe they'll stay until morning, maybe they won't, but he was happy they chose him to lean on anyway.

Untying long, white hair and letting it fall, he stared into the bathroom mirror as he contemplated just what he'd learned, what he'd entrusted to Victor and Aesop, what he hoped the two wouldn't have to learn. Before he finally retired to bed, he placed his hands ever so gently on the heads of the two men who were currently asleep within his room, another peace offering, another wish for them to be happy, for him to be enough for them.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In another room entirely, meanwhile, a man is standing in front of a blank canvas balanced on an easel, hand and brush frozen. Frustration mounts as he examines the paints on his palette, glaring as he mixes selections despite not being sure if any are going to work, until a breaking point strikes, and he slides the palette knife along the canvas, marbled, partially mixed oils creating a ground for whatever may come next.

...Oh god, that actually sort of looks good. Oh, he can use this.

Painting tools clatter to the ground beneath him as he remembers something he told himself he was going to do. After all, this paint needs a long time to dry. Pen in hand, hurried script, breaths heaving and eyes much too wide, he set to work.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

(The paper appears to be notably expensive, a deep crimson border ornamenting the words, as does the envelope. The wax seal is red, bearing only the initials "E.V." on its stamp. As for the writing on the letter, the handwriting is frantic, shaky, stressed.)

Good day.

I could not tell you when I'm writing this letter, with the hours blurring together, only that it's by lanternlight. I could not tell you why I'm sending it to you of all people. Only that I believe you will not tell others of what's inside. Do not prove me wrong.

I was told by the composer—Frederick, I believe—that it didn't matter who I played to. That they didn't care for me anyway and I should paint for myself. I don't know what that means anymore. How should I know what "I" want? I know people don't want me. I know they won't listen, or bother with anything that isn't packaged as the right misconception of art. But if I don't pander, I can't survive. Even if I know what art and its meaning should be, why can't I create something that lives up to that? How haven't I been able to since... god, I don't know when? If I don't have to get things right, then what does any of my work mean?

I started a new painting today. I froze in front of the canvas for so long, I tried something undeniably stupid. And it worked. I can see all too many things in just what I've put on the canvas, I can see all sorts of ways I can show things that live outside of a single moment in time, things that feel like they move and glow and flicker and burn. The world is too large to show everything, but I can select my subjects and what I focus on within them to make a point. Beauty, pain, fear, time moving forward, meaning lives around us.

The paintings have gotten louder since then. I used to be able to hide from their screeching and hissing in my room. What happened?

I don't care if you respond. It's probably better if you don't even read this, frankly. After all, these are my words you're reading. If you chose to do so anyway, I will tell you one thing. If anyone asks, I'm fine.

Edgar Valden

They stayed in that sanctuary until morning, Victor waking up to warmth and safety and love for the first time since he was a child. Unfortunately for Victor and his loneliness, not doing his job for a few days was starting to get to him, and so he eventually decided it'd be best to leave and continue his duties somewhere.

If there were a few tears shed upon leaving, and if he held Aesop's hand until he heard the sounds of people and knew he had to let go, well... Nobody had to know that.

As part of Victor's work routine, he'll check his room for letters in case any had been posted directly to him. There usually weren't, as there was no reason to send him much, but with the last few days in mind it was less of a hopeful dream and more of a very real possibility.

Rounding the corner, bell around his neck ringing out to signal he was here and prepped for delivery, he is startled by a door swinging open behind him as he walked, causing him to stumble back in a flustered panic as it nearly knocks him over with the force.

There's a letter thrown hastily in his direction before the door swings shut again, almost like whoever's inside is in a rush, or a frenzy of some kind. Victor sighs, inspecting the letter to make sure nothing is majorly damaged.

If the wax seal or paint stained corners weren't enough, the plaque on the door that nearly toppled him over like a bowling pin was unmistakeable proof of the sender. He really did worry about that painter sometimes, even if he rarely got close...

He turns the letter over to find where it's supposed to go, but is met with a blank side. That's fine, he's more than used to this conundrum. Slipping into his room and locking the door behind him to ensure safety, he works on prying the wax seal off with a practiced ease to reveal the contents.

It comes as quite the surprise when it's addressed directly to him.

-----

The letter that is poked gingerly through the mailbox has watercolor at the edges, pretty red creating a border on both the envelope and the paper inside. The ink, too, is red, along with the wax seal bearing an envelope. Clearly Victor was going for a theme.

The handwriting is crisp and neat, just like the tone of the letter itself, in stark contrast to what it's replying to.

[Dear Mr. Valden,

Good day to you too! As of writing and sending, it is about 10 am. I am sorry for not being available earlier, I was pulled away from my duties temporarily.] Honestly, he hoped he would be pulled away tonight as well. Maybe he should wait by the mailbox in the middle of the manor and see if either Frederick or Aesop show up... That's for after this conversation, though.

[I promise I will not tell anyone of what I have read. I have locked your letter away as well, in case anyone else should try to read it somehow. It is safe with me.

I wish I could help you, although all I can be is a listening ear, as I have not experienced anything like that myself.] A complete lie, but he doesn't want to tell Edgar that. He shouldn't get close to someone like Edgar, because Edgar doesn't seem like the type to get close to people. It'll just end in him being thrown away, surely.

[I'm sure saying I cared for you would be hollow and worthless, since we've barely interacted and you do not enjoy my presence, but I will say here that I do, at least, worry about you, especially after reading the things in your letter. Please try to take care of yourself if you can, okay?

I do not know the first thing about art, as you've definitely gathered, but from what I can tell of your words you seem to be... Happier? If that is truly the case, and I am not mistaken, I am glad you seem to be enjoying it.] Victor shudders as he deciphers the words scratched through. It's not at all safe to say he's read them, so he decides to pretend he hasn't, and just end the letter here.

[Have a good time with your painting! I am glad you are fine.

Regards,

Postman.]

Frederick is behind this? Surely something must have happened between them, but for lack of a better word, Edgar takes things... pessimistically. He should ask Frederick in some capacity, although keeping the key information out as to not break the promise.

Victor can only hope his oblivious act will bring more answers than questions.