#where i wake up at 4 am and get hit with the best ideas and go 'write that down write that down' and then go back to sleep

[elemental-daddy-neos]

My only flaw is that I never actually finish a story that I'm writing, but still want to post the best and juciest bits of writing I have managed to produce for immediate validation

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: the dancer and the angel PART 5 (finale)

pairing: grayson hawthorne x reader

synopsis: a forbidden kiss, a fallout, a drunken secret and a broken girl… it all comes down to this

parts: part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

warnings: SPOILERS FOR TGG, swearing

a/n: what a journey!! who knew this whole series could come from one request!! thank you @emelia07, I owe this all to you my love!! and thank you for everyone who has read along and been anticipating this part, your support and love has been AMAZINGGGG

taglist: @lovethornes @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @fleuriosa @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast @eternal--dream @shattered-glass-roses @book-nerd-emi @peppapigsposts

YOUR POV

Light streams through the window and my head thumps, a constant monotonous banging. I groan, wincing slightly as I try to roll over into a more comfortable position to re-enter sleep. I feel like I’ve just been hit by a bus, my limbs ached and weighed heavy against the rest of my body. Even my mattress feels uncomfortable, it’s much stiffer than it usually is.

I don’t open my eyes, I prefer the solace I’m finding darkness at the moment. With a pounding head and sore body all I want to do is go back to sleep but it seems my overactive brain has other ideas. Suddenly I’m overwhelmed with a flash of memories. Last night rushes through my brain in jerky disconnected moments. Grayson kissed Lyra. I had gone clubbing with Avery. Gigi was missing. The bottle of alcohol I’d snagged to drown everything out, the crying, the running, the ocean and Grayson in my room.

Oh. Shit.

I suddenly realise I can smell him all over me. My mouth grows sour. I struggle to open my eyes, they feel velcro-ed shut but I manage to pry them open. Everything’s a little hazy, though once my vision clears I realise why my mattress feels so funny. Beneath me isn’t a mattress at all. It’s a man I never wish to see again.

I sit up suddenly, jerking away from him as a wave of nausea rolls over me. I know it’s not the alcohol, I don’t get sick from it. It’s the realisation, the dread pooling the deepest pit of my stomach. This couldn’t be happening.

Scenes replay in my head, like a twisted sort of horror movie where I am the main character who walks into the room the audience knows the killer is in, the same audience who is screaming at their television screens that I shouldn’t walk into that room alone with no weapons. But that’s the thing, you can’t change a film but screaming at the tv. What’s done is done.

Everything I said, I remember it so clearly. I’d told him everything. The truth. The truth that I’d planned to bury alive until it died naturally. It was never meant to have a voice again but of course under alcohol my brain was persuaded much more easily.

“I love you,” I’d mumbled, the words tumbling out in my drunken phase.

I’d admitted to still loving him at least three times and that was how many times in remembered. I feel a little more queasy at the thought.

I dare to glance to my left. Half of his face is buried in the pillow, golden hair spilling over the other. His eyes are closed and his face looks calm, peaceful, beautiful. How dare he look like that.

Panic seizes in my throat. I don’t know what to do. Wake him, yell at him, kick him out, kiss him, leave the room and tell him it was all a dream if he questioned it. My head spins and my heart thumps. I can barely see straight, overwhelmed with a sea of emotion. I’m angry and I’m upset and I’m desperate and I’m confused.

His eyes flicker of open before I have the chance to decide my best move. He immediately meets my eye and sits up in the bed. He’s frozen, half way between going to say something and saying nothing at all. Any lingering tiredness dissipates into panic.

“What are you doing here?” I yelp, before he even has the chance to plead innocent, “why are you in my bed?”

“You were drunk,” he blurts out suddenly, arms defensive over his naked torso.

“And that’s why you’re in my bed,” I cry out incredulously, widening my eyes.

He rolls his, “you wanted me to stay, I couldn’t leave you alone on that state.”

“I was only in that state because I was trying to forget about you,” I snap back, climbing off of the mattress to pull my shoes on.

“Forget about me?” he murmurs, almost in some sort of daze as he shifts his weight on the bed.

I glance up, not accustomed to the vulnerability of his tone when we were arguing. Of course I don’t want to forget about him, I’d wanted to forget that I’d been stupid enough to give someone my heart.

But he didn’t have to know that.

He looks delicate, just sat there, his features soft and mellow. I want nothing more than to reach out and cup his face in my palms and kiss all his pain away, all his built up fear and uncertainty. To run tender fingertips across his shirtless chest, to his collarbone and neck, only for them to get lost in the golden halo of hair that sat atop his head.

My own cravings and desperation annoy me. Why am I still drawn to someone who caused me so much hurt? My head spins. I always make the same mistakes, you’d think I would’ve learnt by now. I just decide in the flash of a moment that I need to see this through, whatever this is now, it needs to be over.

“Oh,” I tusk, rolling my eyes, “don’t sound like such a hurt bird.”

“I don’t I-“

He stands up and attempts to make his way over to me. I move away.

“Just shut up and get out,” I groan, cutting him off, pressing my cold fingertips to my temples, “I’ve got a banging headache and I just want to be alone.”

I sound like a bitch but he’s not exactly making this easy for me not to. I’m hungover and heartbroken, not the best mix.

He looks at me, eyes scanning over me too tenderly. I want to melt back into his arms and fall asleep with the comfort of his soft breathing. When his eyes roam me like that I feel vulnerable, like he can see all of the things that are hurting me most. I don’t like it, he shouldn’t have that right, not anymore.

“Let me help you,” he says quietly and twinge of desperation in his throat.

My insides are screaming at me to just collide with his mouth and accept anything that he says. I look him up and down and discard this moment, these feelings and whatever happened last night. I remember who he really is and what he really did. The part of him I can’t sugarcoat.

I scoff, tightening my arms across my chest., “I think you’ve helped enough.”

He look even more hurt as he steps closer, “please let me-“

A tingle runs down my spine at the familiar position we’re in. I can’t do this.

“Grayson,” I say sharply, “leave.”

And so he does.

He turns his back and walks out of the door, shutting it gently behind him. Part of me wishes he fought harder and part of me is glad. I sink down to the floor my head in my hands. I wait for the tears that are bound to fall but the tease me and make me wait that little bit longer to cry.

Head pounding, heavy with exhaustion and all I want is his touch back, I want his voice back, I want him back but I can’t afford to want anything like that. Not anymore I suppose.

***

GRAYSONS POV

“Grayson,” the way she says my name sends a sort of electrical shock through me, her tone is so attacking and bitter I almost wince, “leave.”

Leave. Last night I was supposed to leave but she asked me to stay, this time she’s asking me to leave but all I want to do is stay.

But I turn my back and walk out of the door. I owe her this and so much more, I can’t deny her of anything else, I can’t be selfish enough to stay. My token of selfishness ran out last night or maybe even long before that.

I feel numb. Through my veins courses an icy silver liquid, my brain is a void of empty blackness lacking thoughts or emotion and my heart can’t seem to beat. Everything is gone. I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff waiting to meet my death, I’ll never know when it’s coming or who caused it but I’m contented, maybe even intrigued with the possibility.

I wanted nothing more than to fight for her, stay there and demand she didn’t let me go. I want her to know how much again, how sorry I am, but what good is an apology when you’ve destroyed someone’s heart?

The numbness floods away and it hits me out of nowhere that this time I’m leaving for good. The realisation attacks me hard in the chest, bullets raining on my skin, making it a little difficult for me to breathe. A tightness constricts my upper body and I feel hazy.

I’m not going anywhere in particular, I just let my feet carry me away. Where is there to go without her? I’m an idiot. Why did I think this morning it would be any different? I’d brainwashed myself into thinking she still actually wanted me because she’d said it when she was drunk. Deep down I knew this would happen and I still stayed.

I’m a selfish bastard. Just like my grandfather.

Where to go from here? I’m alone, sat on a slab of ebony rock, staring out to sea. Usually a practice like this would calm me enough to get me to think straight but today it’s a different story.

Slowly I strip my blazer coat from my back and disgusts the shirt I’d rushed on only moments ago and trousers. I leave them folded on the black rock and make my way to the ocean. I come to the edge, the waves coming to shore lapping my bare feet and ankles.

Then I dive.

As far out as possible into the waters, until I’m out of my depth. Whilst treading waters I analyse how far out I am and the seven best possible ways to get help if I come into danger before I begin to swim.

I’ve spent so much of my life swimming, I know when I’ve hit twenty five meters and then fifty. My body is used to how it feels. So I just do it over and over and over and over. I can feel my brain becoming a blank canvas. Swimming helps me think.

Though, I’ve never enjoyed swimming the ocean, not properly swimming anyway. But I suppose that’s not what the ocean was made for. A pool is reliable. There’s no current, no salt burning your eyes, no creatures lurking beneath the surface. As I swim, I’m constantly thrown off course by the waves, that only seem to grow in size. But maybe that’s a good thing, I have to work that much harder to reach my goal.

Suddenly I stop and make my way to shore, breathing heavily as I sit on the edge where the sand meets the sea. I know what I need to do and my chest feels hollow before I even do it.

LYRAS POV

My chest heaves in and out, rising up and down as I gulp in the oxygen that dance had just stolen. I stay on the floor, toe pointed, arms poised. I don’t know how long I’m there for but eventually I will myself to stand up. I’ve danced, my feelings should be processed, but oddly enough they don’t seem to be. Not like they usually are.

I feel someone’s eyes on me, a prickling sensation creeping down the back of my neck. I turn and face the my unwanted visitor. Perfected blonde hair though seemingly a little damp, mellow gray eyes and a suit. He’s here, of course he’s here. He can’t leave anyone or anything alone, he has to have it all. My peace, my freedom, my expression and his shadow bears weight over it all.

Fury courses through my veins, like lightning ready to strike. It crackles and hisses impatient to put a deadly shock through someone. I feel my expression morph into a scowl, my eyes narrow into sharp slits and despite my previously open body language through my routine I now tuck myself in and away from his prying eyes. I force myself up, legs still a little shaky from the adrenaline of the routine. I stand still, if he wants to talk, he can walk to me.

“Lyra-“ he begins, stepping inwards.

“You,” I spit, a bitter venom coating my tongue, acidic and sharp.

Something flickers across his face. Is that fear I sense? Good. I’m ready for a fight, for a battle, maybe even a war.

“Look-“ he tries to begin again.

I don’t give him the chance to continue. He doesn’t deserve to plead his apologies, I won’t be swayed with empty words.

“You are a horrible man,” I seethe, fire in my belly, “if you can even call yourself a man, I’ve got several other less polite words for it.”

“Please you do not need to list them,” he replies dryly.

I bark out a surprised laugh, “still arrogant, still full of yourself, after everything you’ve done and the people you’ve hurt you have the audacity to-“

“I’m sorry-“ he interrupts me with an earnest look in his eyes I can’t ignore. Maybe just maybe he really is sorry… or maybe he’s the fantastic actor he’s always been.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” I tell him coldly.

His desperate eyes dare to find mine, “hear me out-“

“No,” I shake my head, “I’m done with listening to you and your lies.”

He winces as if I’ve struck him across the face, “Lyra I didn’t mean to-“

“You did. And you won’t make that mistake again,” I say, an uninvited rawness in my voice, “not with me.”

“Lyra please-“

“Beg all you want,” I cut him off again. I know the lines he’s rehearsed, I’ve heard them said by other men. I don’t give in to excuses, not from a man like him, “get on your knees I don’t care there’s nothing you can say to save yourself now and who’s fault is that?”

“Mine,” he barely murmurs, looking like a scorned child.

“Funny,” I say, dropping my voice low, “it’s so convenient now is the time you take responsibly for your actions, maybe you should’ve thought about them before-“

“I made a mistake,” Grayson bursts, the action so sudden and out of character I wonder if it’s really him talking or some deranged drunken version.

I check his eyes. He’s sober. And yet here he is standing in front of me, admiting he’s wrong and actually looking apologetic for it.

“That much is evident,” I scoff, still I can’t trust any word that comes out of his mouth, any look in his eyes, “but you did worse than that. You hurt me, you hurt the girl who loved you, who gave you everything but still wasn’t enough to satisfy your egotistical, spoilt desires,” I seethe, “you didn’t only do that but you made me into someone I’m not and you of all people don’t get to do that. I write my own story, paint my own picture, dance to my own tune. You don’t get to decide who I am and you have, you’ve made me the slut who goes around kissing other people’s boyfriends.”

“She knows you didnt know,” he replies, almost softly.

“And what’s it to me now?” I ask with a crisp laugh, “What’s done is done and everything is ruined.”

“You’re right,” he mumble miserably.

“You know if I’d even thought for a fraction of a second there was someone else I wouldn’t have even looked in your direction,” I tell him.

It’s more than true, I could never do that to someone, not on purpose. It isn’t me.

“I know,” Grayson says, “you’re a good person.”

“I don’t need you of all people to tell me that,” I snap, keeping up every wall I could. He will never get past them again.

“You intrigued me,” he admits, as if it makes the situation better.

“Men are led by greedy eyes and tiny dicks,” I spit, such fury in my voice I almost don’t recognise myself.

He can’t stop his eyebrows from shooting upwards in surprise.

“The first half of that sentence was true,” he murmurs.

“Protecting your pride still,” I sneer, as if any man wouldn’t have, “how can you come here and look me in the eye to plead for forgiveness after what you’ve done.”

He looks pained, “I don’t know.”

“You’re an asshole,” I tell him. One final time.

“I know,” he sighs.

I’ve never seen a man that held himself with such composure look so defeated. I don’t enjoy this, making anyone feel like this, even if it’s him. He may have hurt people but it doesn’t make him immune to feeling hurt himself.

Still, that didn’t kill the pure anger within me, the burning ferocity for someone who had done me wrong. And maybe I’m a fool for being blinded by such an explosive emotion but I don’t care. I can’t afford to care.

So I almost smile, “I hope she doesn’t still love you, in fact I hope she hates you for the rest of your life and you spend your days torturing yourself over this.”

“I’m sorry I kissed you Lyra, I’m sorry I played with your heart,” he says solemnly.

“You didn’t play with anything,” I laugh, “if you think you got remotely close to my heart you’d be gravely mistaken.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you then,” he replied calmly, “and I’m sorry I painted you in a bad light.”

“But you’ll win this game in the end won’t you,” I say with a shrug, my voice softens, “of course you will.”

“There’s no game here Lyra,” he responds, a vulnerability in his tone, “just a stupid man and two angry women.”

“She doesn’t deserve you,” I reply, looking him up and down.

“I know that,” Grayson admits, “she never has.”

“And you proved that to her,” I remind him, salt in his wounds, I want them to burn as much as her heart does.

“I know that too,” he says, his voice soft and quiet.

He looks too agonised and suddenly I can’t bear to look at him.

“I want you to leave,” I tell him quickly, “and don’t look back.”

He nods silently, “I’m sorry, truly.”

I stare, waiting for him to leave. I would not run from a man, he should do the walk of shame out.

“Don’t even think about coming anywhere near me after this,” I call out, “this is a forever goodbye, Hawthorne. Stay out of my life.”

He doesn’t respond, only gives a second nod before he turns his back and walks off slowly. I exhale softly and hit play on the music to start a second routine with a now cleared head.

***

YOUR POV

The bathroom tiles are cold under my thighs but they’ve almost gone as numb as the rest of me. I’ve been sat here for who knows how long recounting last nights events over and over, all the parts I didn’t want to remember and maybe some parts that I won’t admit I do. This is one of the reasons I don’t drink, but of course I’d break that rule for him, betraying my own morals again for the same stupid man. I’m exhausted, physically exhausted by it all. I tip my head back and rest it on the edge of the bathtub, a chill runs down my neck reminding me of what his touch to me.

‘But I can’t say it out loud, because then I’m an idiot for loving someone who cut me deeper than any weapon could ever cut me.’

Of all the things to say I really did have to spill everything didn’t I? There’s no way of taking back, even twisting it into something it’s not. What I said was too raw to be lied about. Denial seems like my new best friend. If I pretend for long enough I never said it, maybe I’ll fool myself into believing it too.

‘And I tried to drink it all away, believe me I tried, but then halfway through my fifth glass I kind of realised it wasn’t working.’

Even my drunken tongue had lied, I’d realised before the alcohol even had the pleasure of burning its way down my throat that it wouldn’t work. I’d just convinced myself it might attack the pain receptors in my body.

‘It’s because I still fucking love you, how depressing is that? You murdered my heart and yet it can’t stop beating your name.’

Did his heart beat mine? His replies are hazier than my memory of what I’d said. My stupidity is woven deep into my brain, his hit the hardest when he’s kissed her so any other stupid things past that were more forgettable. My stomach rolls at the thought of all I’d admitted to last night. I groan wishing for the floor to swallow me whole and softly drown me into an eternal darkness.

But I can’t keep walking through this endlessness, whatever feelings I had left for him I had to leave behind. I’m good at tricking my mind and that is my plan now, trick my mind into thinking I don’t love, I can’t love. Maybe next time I won’t be so hurt. I stand up and gaze at the girl in the mirror, finally silencing the voice that was picking out all the features Lyra had that I didn’t. I inhale and exhale deeply. All my feelings would be discarded, here and now I decide. The moment I step from this bathroom and close the door, I’m closing off connection to him.

I walk slowly towards the door, my legs a little more shaky and a little less numb. I can’t tell which I prefer. I breathe deeply as I step out, taking in our happy memories for one last time, before this mess of a relationship it has become. And finally, finally I shut the bathroom door.

He’s out of my mind and I’m focussed on something else. I want to find Gigi, then I want to have a good nights sleep and then I want to go and find a career I love and cut this Hawthorne part of my life out completely. To truly lose him, I needed to lose everything close to him too. I can’t afford to be drawn back again.

I leave the room I’d slept in the night before and walk, fast paced and strong steps that leave me slightly breathless after a while. The island is bigger than it looks with many different pathways to walk.

I pick the one that seems the longest. I need to clear my head and focus on where Gigi could possibly be. I feel consumed with guilt that I hadn’t been trying harder to find her, instead I’ve been wrapped up in my own problems. She could be dead, dying or something worse that I didn’t even want to start imagining. All I know is, we have to work harder to find her and it starts here and now.

I need to gather all the information. When. When did she go missing? Exact time stamps of everything to calculate how swiftly any of this happened. Where. Where was she taken? We needed to revisit all the places she could be or could’ve been taken from. How. How was she taken? Did it leave any evidence? Would that give us a clue to who it might have been? Why. Why would someone want her? What’s the motive behind it all? What. What did they want? Surely they wanted something right? Who. The big question mark and blank face. Who in the world would want to kidnap Juliet Grayson?

A hand touches my shoulder and I flinch, immediately going into fight or flight. Unfortunately for the other person I choose to fight, twisting their arm quickly. They clearly aren’t expecting it as they cry out and don’t react fast enough. When I hear the sound of her voice I immediately drop the tight grasp I’d had on her and repeat apologies.

“I am so sorry,” I exhale, “I was thinking deeply about Gigi and I thought you might be a kidnapper.”

“It’s okay,” Avery says, hiding her wince quite well as she adjusted her arm, “you totally would’ve kicked ass if I had been a kidnapper.”

I try to smile but can only manage a half grimace, “thanks.”

She tilts her head as our eyes meet.

“You okay?” Avery asks, looking pitiful.

I hate it. I hate to think she feels sorry for me. What’s done is done, we all just need to forget and move on and her pity is only making me remember. I run a hand over my face to break eye contact. Clearly I look worse than I thought I did despite trying to hide my tired eyes and hollow cheeks with makeup.

“Fine,” I respond with a small shrug, as we begin a slow walk down.

She hesitates, I can tell she’d unsure to carry on the conversation, but she does anyway, “you don’t seem fine.”

I chew my bottom lip trying to come up with some sort of plausible excuse, “rough sleep,” I manage, my throat a little dry.

The silence between us feels thick and heavy, not the way it usually might. The paranoia in me thinks she knows something.

She stares at me for a moment and then sighs, saying what’s really on her mind, “why did Grayson walk out of your room this morning?”

And for once the paranoia is right.

I don’t say anything at first because I don’t know what to say. I’m trying to forget about him but slowly I’m learning every second I’m here I’ll be reminded. As soon as I can I’ll leave for good this time.

“Long story,” I murmur.

“Care to share?” she asks. Avery isn’t one to push, if I told her to drop it now she would immediately. But part of her knows what I don’t want to admit to. I need to talk about this, get it off of my chest. Burying it alive doesn’t mean it’ll die immediately. Maybe I need to kill it first.

“I got drunk,” I explain, more ashamed now because saying something out loud always makes it more real, “and said some things I shouldn’t have and he stayed… because I asked him to.”

She winced, unable to hold it back this time.

“Oh wait,” I laugh, through some pain, “it gets worse.”

Avery bites her lip, “please no,” she begs in a small voice.

I sigh and meet her eyes directly, “And then, like the idiot that I am, I told him I still loved him.”

She gasps, air caught in her throat. She stills in her sheer surprise of it all.

“Yeah,” I grimace, with an awkward cough, “so if you’re wondering why I look like crap that may or may not have something to do with it.”

“Rewind,” she says, “do you?”

“What?”

“Still love him,” she clarifies.

“Of course,” I murmur. If I’m going to keep lying to myself from now on I want the last person I tell the truth to to be someone who I can truly trust, “but he’s not supposed to know that.”

“This is tricky,” Avery says, tapping her fingers at her sides.

“You’re telling me,” I blow out a breath, “I have no idea what to do.”

“Did he tell you?” she asks curiously, “that you told him you loved him I mean?”

“No, that’s the weird thing,” I reply slowly, “he hasn’t said a thing about it.”

I hadn’t really thought of it until now. Why wouldn’t he use that against me? It’s perfect. Too perfect. He could’ve easily just explained the whole conversation and my only defence, I was drunk, which when thinking about it isn’t even a defence.

Avery’s eyebrows furrow and she tilts her head confused, “so how do you know you said that?”

“I remember everything,” I blurt out, “every single second.”

“But he hasn’t referenced it?” she clarifies.

“He doesn’t know I remember,” I say slowly, “and I’m keeping it that way.”

She nods in understanding but I can see part of her is wondering why.

“I can’t afford to love him Avery because I love too hard,” I admit, each word killing me softly, “I trust too much.”

“I understand,” she purses her lips, “but doesn’t it mean something, that he hasn’t said anything.”

I tilt my head to the side, “how do you mean?”

“He knows what he’s done is beyond wrong,” she begins, “and he also knows you still love him, but he also knows you don’t want to be with him, so maybe he’s trying to make it easier for you to leave, to just forget.”

I chew my lips, “I suppose.”

We fall into a silence of pondering. Maybe he is really trying to let me do what I want to. Maybe he is helping me leave because I asked him to. Maybe he knows if he asks me to stay, I will, so he’s not asking at all.

“I’m sorry,” Avery says quietly, wrapping as arm around my shoulder and pulling me into her.

“What are you sorry for?” I sniff, suddenly aware of a dampness on my cheeks, “none of this is your fault.”

“It’s not you either,” she whispers tentatively.

I don’t know how she knows but she knows I need to hear this. I keep trying to find the flaws in myself, all the things that I’d done to cause this to happen. And as much as I hate to think I would do that for a guy, it’s what I am doing.

I look up at her, glossy eyed.

“No,” she says firmly, “don’t you dare start blaming yourself.”

“Too late,” I smile sadly, a tidal wave of emotion hitting me hard. If I hadn’t been a problem, if there wasn’t something wrong with me, then why kiss another?

“Oh sweetheart,” she says tenderly, hugging me tighter, closer.

“Maybe I wasn’t good enough Avery, maybe if I was smarter, maybe if I was prettier, if I could dance like her…” I trail off, “I know I’m a lot, I know I’m hard to deal with but I just thought… I really thought I’d found someone who understood that and embraced it. I thought he loved every part of me, that he’s never feel like that for anyone but me. I was stupid enough to think for once I was the special one but I was wrong. I’m the girl I’ve always been, I’m not enough Avery.”

“Look at me, look at me right now,” she says with a fierce love, “you are enough. In fact you’re more than enough. You’re so kind and lovely and sweet, you light up a whole room when you walk into it, you’re constantly putting others before yourself. You’re brave and you’re beautiful and he’s letting all of that go. You are everything and don’t let him make you forget it because I’m not going to sit here and let a stupid boy make you think you’re not enough.”

I force a laugh, my throat so hoarse so the sound of scrapes and scratches.

“And I’m not even just saying this,” she says, once again proving that she can read minds, “you know me, I’m an honest girl and I wouldn’t lie to one of my best friends. He’s not worth you, he let you down, he hurt you and that’s on him, that’s a reflection of him. It has nothing to do with you, okay?”

I nod snivelling, “god I love you Ave.”

“I love you too,” she smiles through her own tears now.

We hug again and even thought I’d thought it was impossible to get ourselves any closer, we still managed.

“I can’t believe I’m crying over a boy right now,” I laugh through my tears.

She laughs too, wiping them from my cheeks, “it’s okay, I’ve been there one too many times.” I beam at her and slowly loosen my arms around nee to let her go.

“Avery,” I say carefully.

She hums in reply, brushing my hair behind my ears.

“Can I ask you a question?” I say.

She looks at me, almost knowing what’s coming yet still replies, “sure,” in such a way that made me more than comfortable to even ask.

I inhale deeply, “what would you do if Jameson did this to you?”

A sudden sadness coats her hazel eyes.

“Honestly,” she sighs, “I don’t even know, I wouldn’t know what to do. I know that’s the last thing you probably wanted to hear.”

I shrug, “it’s okay. I don’t really know what I expected you to say.”

***

GRAYSONS POV

My pride is wounded two times over. Good. Maybe that’ll teach it.

Ever since I was a child I had been raised to be a proud man, someone who held their head high no matter what they’d done or in some cases what they hadn’t. I could blame my grandfather for the way I turned out, the man who bred me to be such a foul and malicious creature or maybe my neglectful mother, absent father or a smiling red headed girl who pitched herself off of a cliff edge. But what good I blaming someone when I’m still stuck as myself?

I find myself back at the beach. A place that is both achingly familiar and distant all at the same time. I wonder if the salt in the water will cleanse me of what I have done. As I close my eyes and inhale, I remember pulling her between my legs, telling her she was the only one our first night on this island. I would do anything to go back to that moment.

Why is nothing ever enough for me? I don’t know when to stop, when to feel satisfied, when to recognise I have more than I want. Why am I the way I am? My head is a swirling mess of antagonising thoughts and strangling voices all on top of one another.

Though one is the loudest, one shows me the most.

I hurt her more than I could ever imagine and it’s killing me. Pieces of me are eroding away in the acid coursing through my veins. I can feel myself slipping away, everything growing heavier by the smallest fractions that build up over time until everything just crumbles one day and you look back and wonder what the hell happened.

I have hatred for a lot of people but my most loathed enemy is the man who looks me in the eye every day in my bathroom mirror, the man who shares my name and my blood and my mind. I hate him for hurting her. I want to destroy him for making a single tear slip. I wish nothing but an agonising life for him.

I feel someone sit beside me and I already know who it is. It isn’t the way she moves that gives her away, nor the smell of her perfume or sound of her breathing. I just know. Like I’ve always just known. She sits by my side and stares out to sea, not meeting my eye when I turn to look at her.

“I’m done with this,” she says, her voice stone, cold, “the tension, the arguing, all of it. I’m done with you Grayson. I want to make it clear. When I say stay away from me, you will stay away from me. I don’t want anything to do with you anymore.”

She’s still looking out, every weighted word is said towards the ocean and still I feel every jab just a heavy on my chest.

She’s so beautiful, too beautiful. I’m selfish in this moment for almost being glad she came, just so I could look at her, really look at her one last time. Her cheeks are rosy from the cold, as well as her nose slightly pinkish. Long thick lashes curl up to almost touch her eyebrows. Her lips only taunt me in their perfection, rounded and red, making my desire to take them into my own that little bit more violent.

I understand what she wants, but I don’t want her to want it. But I have to give her this, if I truly love her, I have to let her go. But if this is the last conversation we ever have, I don’t want it to end here.

“What do you remember from last night?” the question escapes my lips before I can filter it.

Still she does not meet my eye, “are you not listening to me?” she’s agitated, annoyed and desperately trying not to glare at me in fear of making eye contact.

“I will do whatever you ask,” I tell her, praying she could hear my earnestness, thick in my throat, “I promise you-“

She scoffs cutting me off, “yeah because promises went far last time.”

A pang of shame attacks my heart, it aches and pulsates in agony. It’s my own fault and part of me is guilty it isn’t writhing more, I suppose it’s still holding out for some false hope.

“I swear it on my life and yours,” I say, slowly, “I’ll do whatever you ask. But please, please tell me. What do you remember from last night?”

“Nothing,” her voice almost softens, it’s not as harsh as before but not as sweet as I remembered.

It stings. Reality usually does, but I don’t think I’ve felt it this strongly since Emily died. I’d thought maybe somewhere there would’ve been part of her that remembered her confession, part of her that believed it. All I know for sure is I’m not going to say a word about it, I owe her far more than that and despite how much I want her, crave her, need her, I can’t do this to her.

“Absolutely nothing?” I murmur, wondering if words were even being processed by my brain anymore because I don’t remember thinking them.

“I drank a load of alcohol and then went to my room,” she replies briskly, her frostiness returning like an icy sheet on a winters day, “next thing I know I wake up with you next to me.”

“So you don’t remember anything you said?” I push, testing the waters.

If this truly is our last conversation, I need to know for sure that she doesn’t remember anything, that I should forget like she’s already forgotten.

“No and quite frankly I don’t care Grayson,” she groans, eyes blazing with a fury I wasn’t used to, “I’m tired of this vicious circle. You messed up and no amount of apologising is going to save you now.”

“I love you,” I blurt out.

I can’t help it. She’s everything to me and she needs to know it, even if she doesn’t believe it.

She shakes her head, almost sadly, “and clearly that’s not enough.”

“It is enough,” I say desperately.

I understand why she can’t see this like I do. I understand why she won’t consider it. I understand I’ve hurt her beyond her limit.

“This is what I mean by a vicious circle,” she chokes out, “we’re back to the same place again. You tell me you love me, then I ask why you did what you did, you say you don’t know and I can’t forgive and forget it.”

“I’m not asking you to,” I tell her, “but you know it as well as I do, we’ll go crazy without each other. I’m already losing it and so are you-“

“Oh thanks,” she scoffs, sarcasm clinging to her tone, “good way to win me back there, telling me I’m a mental case, real attractive.”

I wince then regain composure.

“You don’t drink,” I say, “you’ve never been a heavy drinker and now what? You suddenly are.”

“I’m allowed to do what I want,” she spits back, “habitual or not.”

Something about the way she is so defensive about being so reckless makes me feel sick to my stomach. I don’t want to be the reason she destroys her health.

“So you expect me to sit back and watch you hurt yourself!” I yell, suddenly angry, more with myself than ever at her.

“Well you’ve had no problem hurting me before,” she snaps, her voice almost acidic.

I fall silent. What is there left to say? She’s right. She has me backed into a corner of speechlessness. I’ve run out of defences to plead.

“You know what Grayson, it’s fine,” she says bitterly, harshly wiping away tears, “people move on I get it but couldn’t you have just said it to my face before you went behind my back? You knew, you knew I was insecure about her and you still went ahead and kissed her. What kind of sick person does that?”

She looks like she’s physically in pain, it agonises me to even watch her, let alone realise that I’m the one who caused this. Guilt consumed me so long ago and yet it feels like my first taste all over again.

“I don’t know how to tell you this again,” I fumble over my words, my hands shaking, “it meant nothing, I felt nothing.”

“Then what made you do it?” she sobs, “what made you do it?”

“I don’t know,” I ramble, “she was there and she was upset and I felt bad and I’d just spent the last 24 hours with her and she reminded me of you and so I got confused-“

“Confused.” she says darkly, she looks livid, “Confused? We’re completely different fucking people, Grayson. Please don’t try and feed me that excuse because it won’t wash with me!”

“I don’t know, I really don’t then,” I reply, holding my hands up to surrender, “I don’t know why this happened or how, all I know is that I’m going to regret it for the rest of my life.”

“Good,” she snaps, “as you should, now are you done here?”

I look at her longingly, my eyes latching to her body. I don’t want this to be goodbye but if it has to be then I want to remember every inch of her.

“If you promise me you’ll be careful,” I murmur, barely audible.

Her face scrunches up, “don’t tell me what to do.”

“You scared me last night,” I admit, softening my voice.

“I’m a grown woman Grayson,” she sneers, saying my name so coldly I feel it burn in my chest, “I can do what I like, I don’t care if it scared you, get your big boy pants on and get over it.”

“That wasn’t you,” I whisper.

“Yeah,” she laughs gently with a bitterness caught in her throat, “and I thought this wasn’t you but I was wrong too.”

“I don’t want you to waste away because of me,” I tell her.

“Oh, you do like to flatter yourself,” she shakes her head with a sad smile, tears still rolling down her cheeks.

I look at her as earnestly as I can, “I’m serious.”

“Grayson if I scared you so much,” she states simply, folding her arms across her chest and taking a dangerous step closer, “then why not just leave?”

“I couldn’t leave you like that,” I reply with the truth because I’ve lied far too much.

“Why?”

“Because I love you,” my voice cracks, “and no matter how much you scare me that fact doesn’t change.”

“You should’ve left,” she replies coldly, staring dead at me, like she’s trying to keep her emotions in check to defy the glistening tear stains on her cheeks.

“I know,” I respond quietly, “and I tried but you asked me to stay.”

“I was drunk,” she exclaims, raising her voice, “and being an idiot, I didn’t know what I was saying!”

“And if I’d left would you be any happier?” I shoot back, anger taking hold for that split second.

She falters, “no because the bottom line is you’ve hurt me more than I know I could hurt, so nothing you do can be worse.”

My heart throbs.

“I’m sorry,” I say, knowing the word will never be enough.

“That’s meaningless to me,” she shakes her head.

“I know but I’ll still say it until I’m blue in the face,” I shrug.

“Be my guest,” she replies, stepping backwards, “it’ll still be meaningless.”

She’s stepping away, she wants this to come to an end, she’s scared it won’t. I don’t want to let her go but I will. I ask myself if this is our last conversation. If so, I have to take the gamble.

“Being away from you is torturing me,” I say.

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you had your lips on hers,” she only shrugs in reply, opting for her stony tone, unsympathetic eyes meeting my own pleading ones.

“I know it’s torturing you too,” I whisper.

The world comes to a standstill for a moment and I feel like I’m in a place between life and death. A surreal sort of slowed experience where it doesn’t feel quite real but not quite synthetic either. Waiting for her to reply sucks the oxygen from my lungs.

“Of course it is, you idiot,” she groans, “I’ve got double the torture because not only am I now alone, I was betrayed by someone who I thought loved me.”

“I do love you,” I tell her.

I hope she can hear the emotion in my throat. She knows me well enough to know I could hide it, but I don’t want to. I want her to know that I feel more for her than I’ve ever felt for anyone else on this planet. I need her to know that she is everything to me.

“Empty words Grayson, all of them,” she replies. It’s what happens when you hurt someone so pure too many times, you ruin them. “The ones you said before and the ones you’re saying now, they’re meaningless to me,” she shrug.

It feels like it’s the end and it is consolidated as so when she walks away from me. She’s finished, she’s done. War is over.

But selfish me can’t let her do that, selfish me is still fighting, selfish me is taking over my brain and selfish me needs to try one last thing, as awful as it is, he has to.

“No they’re not,” I say loudly.

She stops, frozen in place. Her head whips around, fast, “are you seriously doing this?”

Her eyes blaze with the purest of fury. I begin to think I’ve done the wrong thing, but there’s no turning back now.

“You told me you loved me last night,” I blurt out.

I can’t believe it’s come to this. I hadn’t wanted it to but I don’t feel regret. I can’t hide this from her too.

She stares me dead in the eye, “I know.”

The wave of shock almost knocks me flat.

“You know?” I gape, jaw dropping. This whole time she knew and she just didn’t say anything.

“Of course,” she tusks, rolling her eyes, “I said the stupid words.”

“But you said-“

“I lied,” she snaps sharply cutting me off.

My eyebrows furrow, “why?”

“This reason,” she points to the both of us as my eyebrows draw together even tighter, “to avoid this.”

“What is this?” I ask. I need to clarity, I need to know what’s going on inside her head.

“This conversation,” she says, “I don’t want it.”

“Why?” I ask again, the painstaking monotony of the word making me feel like a petulant child.

“Because,” she meets my eye and her voice wavers for a moment, “I don’t want to look you in the eye and tell you it’s over again, because this time I don’t think I’ll cope.”

“Then don’t tell me it’s over,” I blurt out.

I never think straight when she’s involved, it’s always this mess of chaos in my brain and I say and do things without thought, without fear, without overthinking,

“But it is Grayson,” she replies, pain ripping through her voice, “it was over the moment you put your lips on hers.”

“I don’t love her,” I tell her again, she’ll never hear it enough but if I stop saying it I fear she’ll believe I do.

She shakes her head and her bottom like trembles, “that doesn’t change what happened.”

“How can I prove it to you?” I ask, trying to reach out for her in my desperation, “what can I do?”

She moves away so my hands can’t clasp hers. I’ll beg her in my hands and knees if I must.

“Grayson you have to understand that I can’t trust you anymore,” she explains, “and how can I be in a relationship with you if I don’t trust you.”

“I don’t know,” I murmur, “but we could try, you could rebuild the trust.”

She pauses for a long while, not moving, barely breathing. She limbs rest still as she analyses me, her eyes trailing up and down me slowly until they finally meet my eye and stop themselves from wondering. I can only hope she sees how much I mean it, the eyes are the window to the soul, she once told me. How clear is that window now?

She takes one step in, a single tear glistening as it rolls down her cheeks, “how do I know you don’t love her,” she whispers.

I take her face into my palms and I kiss her, deeply, smoothly. I say a thousand words without uttering a sound and I already know she feels every single one of them before we’ve stopped.

We break away naturally, “because I didn’t kiss her like that,” I say breathlessly.

“I won’t forgive you with just a kiss,” she shakes her head, pushing me away gently, “you can’t win me over with sweet talk.”

“I know,” I murmur, fingertips lingering like a ghost touch on her hips.

“And if we’re going to be us again it’s going to take time,” she responds, taking a step away so my hands fall from her body and we’re just two people looking at each other, “a long time.”

“I’m fine with waiting,” I tell her, “I’ll wait forever just to be with you.”

Every word is the truth, every word I mean.

She looks at me and I can’t quite read her, though she looks in deep thought, “you have the next stage of the game now,” she reminds me quietly.

“I don’t care,” I shrug.

And I don’t. This stupid game has caused me nothing but misery and I don’t want any part of it anymore.

“Go,” she whispers with a smile that still looked sadder than usual, “I need time.”

My heart clenches.

“Forever, I’ll wait forever.”

a/n: ahhh it’s so bittersweet to end this series!! I can’t believe how much it grew, starting from that one little fic to this whole story I somehow created?! special shout-out to @inmyheaddd and @midiosaamor for being my biggest cheerleaders 💘💘 I love you with all of my heart and thank you so much, but also thank you so so so INSANELY much to anyone else who had liked, commented or read this fic, it means more than anything to me

okay so this is PROBABLY a controversial ending because she doesn’t get back with him but she doesn’t not get back with him, I’ll leave the decision to you guys… (I know it leans towards she probably will BUTTTT hear me out: this is fiction and I wanted the main character to end with with grayson and I think it’s not like she just got back with him, she has conditions, she’s being cautious, but her love is so overwhelming that she still wants to be with him even though he brain is telling her no)

ANYWAYS i hope you enjoyed this final part, a little bit of me is scared it’s too underwhelming but I liked it :)) thank you all again <33

TIG masterlist

[ididdedurmom]

More evil head cannons

I have silly ideas about the gang after the event of the story, everyone lives, except Bob

PONY:

Has a thousand yard stare when he zones out

Has the loudest, most disgusting, mucus filled cough ever

Actually really good at drawing

Has drawn every member of the gang at least twice

Loves physical touch, he leans on his friends when their sitting next to him.

Actually screams during horror movies, like loud genuine screams

Loves play fighting with Darry, like full on wrestling

Steve taught him how to drive

He either walks like a ghost or stomps, there is no in between

He can play one song on the guitar, and that’s it

His legs are super strong, so his kicks hurt really bad

He would be better at track, but his smoking habits hold him back

He feels jealous of Soda and Darry because they had more time with their parents

He and Darry have matching reading glasses

SODA:

He says “I’m just a girl” anytime he gets in trouble

He has used his pretty privilege to get out of being arrested multiple times

Despite how handsome he knows he is, he still feels super insecure about his looks

He steals from the DX station constantly

He and Steve spend hours gossiping about their customers once both of their shifts are over

A dog bit him when he was a kid, now he’s deathly afraid of them

He loves physical affection, hugging him is the best way to cheer him up

Absolute candy addict

Candy is the #1 item he steals from the DX

He broke his dominant hand once, and now his handwriting is permanently ruined

He reads insanely slow and monotone when he reads out loud

He either sleeps like a rock, or wakes up from the slightest sound, there is no in between

He lives in his flannel, that thing hasn’t been washed in literal years

He suffers from middle child syndrome, he knows his brothers love him, but they don’t pay enough attention to him

DARRY:

He hates his jobs, he knows he has to go but he can’t stand them

All of his coworkers are old and they treat him like a child (which he’s kind of okay with in a way)

He loves watching cartoons but he feels like he’d be wasting his time

He sneezes like a dad

He wakes up at 4 am and works out immediately

Loves compliments and words of affection

Doing favors is his love language

He has the whitest legs ever, he’s all tan on the top and snow white on the bottom

His tan ends where his pants start

Small bits of his hair are grey, he doesn’t know

He has a fear of abandonment

He is insanely flexible for a man of his size, like he can touch the floor standing up with ease

He hit a dog with his car once and cried for 2 hours straight

He loves cuddling on the couch with his brothers, it helps him relax

He despises Curly Shepard, he’s civil with Tim, but he HATES Curly

When he comes home from his ski trips with his old friends, he actually looks his age

A woman once assumed he was Pony’s father, and it made him die inside a little

He can’t stand Mother and Fathers Day

He was mad at Steve when he found out he taught Pony how to drive

TWO-BIT:

He and Dally bond by harassing women

He has a box full of things he’s stolen

His slight alcoholism stems from his father

He let’s his sister paint his nails, and he shows them off proudly

He gets his nails painted before rumbles

He watches soap operas with his mother every night

He can play the trumpet

He has never purchased a pack of cigarettes, only stolen

He listens to metal

When he passes Johnny’s house, he has to actively stop himself from walking in and beating Johnny’s parents half to death, especially his father

Its not that he doesn’t want a job, I mean he doesn’t, it’s that he thinks he’d only mess up whenever they had him do

He constantly forgets to brush his teeth

Pop and beer are the only things he drinks, he doesn’t touch water

He religiously wears Mickey Mouse merch, you will never catch him in a plain shirt

Baby Pony and him got along really well, he was kinda like Pony’s goofy cousin

Two-Bit and Darry have been friends since they were little kids

Two has no plans for his future, and it weighs on him

He broke both of his elbows once

His teachers have kinda given up on him, they just treat him like a bother instead of a student

STEVE:

He messes up Pony’s hair every chance he gets

He uses the most hair grease out of everyone

He has had the same comb for 3 years

He constantly smells like oil

The underside of his nails are always black, no matter how much he washes his hands

He and Soda have matching scars from a shared failed attempt to climb a barb wired fence

He is terrified of the police

He and Soda make your mom jokes at each other, despite neither of them having mothers

His voice is scarily deep when he wakes up

He and Two-Bit have an inside joke no one in the gang understands

He, Soda, and Two-Bit all have matching stick and poke tattoos

He hates his father, and by extension the fathers of Johnny and Two-Bit

He and Dally don’t hang out much, but when they do they are absolute menaces

Dally and him steal cars and hub caps together

He is genuinely upset by the size of his nose

JOHNNY:

He’s dyslexic

His handwriting is atrocious

His best subject is math

He and the gang all picked out stickers to put on his crutches

He loves sleeping around his friends

His hands are rough

He can’t stand the smell of beer, unless it’s one of the gang

He and Curly hate each other for literally no reason

Pony has slowly been teaching him to read better

No matter how much grease he puts in his hair, it won’t stay back

He hates going out in public because people always look at him funny

He hates looking at his burn scars

He, Dally, and Ponyboy watch sunsets together

He either sleeps at the Cutis’s house, Two-Bit’s house, Steve’s (very rarely), or Dallas’s place.

He’s not allowed to sleep in the lot anymore

He has tons of freckles, you just can’t see them against his skin

He loves sleeping outside when he wants to

He never wants children, he’s to scared he’ll become his father

His pain tolerance is so high that sometimes he won’t even notice when he gets injured

He likes how defensive Dallas is of him, makes him feel confident

He smokes marijuana with Dally sometimes, he’s super anxious when they do though because he doesn’t want to get arrested

DALLY:

He will not talk about his feelings

The cops forced him to go to therapy, it didn’t fix anything

He is amazing at lying

The police know him by name

He hasn’t told the gang much about the past other than where he came from and that he doesn’t talk to his folks

Darry nicknamed him “Rat”

He actually feels bad when Darry yells at him

He gets sun burns very quickly

He has his own personal stench

He doesn’t want Johnny to end up like him

He cried for 3 hours straight when he found out Johnny was still alive, it is his most embarrassing moment

He chugs drinks insanely fast

He can’t read very well

He needs glasses but he thinks he’d look like a wimp if he had any

Even though he knows he could have an asthma attack from coughing to hard, he still doesn’t carry his inhaler

He was happy when he thought he was going to die

Then he woke up and had an epiphany about life, it didn’t do to much, but now he knows death isn’t the only option

He proudly shows off the burn marks on his arm

He loves pushing Johnny around in his wheelchair

He listens to outlaw music and Frank Sinatra

He loves horror movies

He toned down his bad behavior once he got out of the hospital, he’s still a dick though

That’s it or whatever. I hope you like them, I’m sorry if some of them don’t make sense. I’m just so silly. I apologize for my horrible grammar lol. Feel free to tell me some of your head cannons!! :D

[yassbishimvintage]

Hearts on Deck (4)

A/N: This was highly waited for. Hope y'all enjoy

Masterlist

The next morning, Cleo awoke alone in her hotel bedroom.

For a moment, she stayed still, blinking against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. The spot beside her was empty, but the sheets still held his warmth.

She stretched, exhaling softly as the events of the night before played in her mind—the quiet confessions, the slow kisses, the way Aaron had held her like he had no intention of letting go.

Reaching for her phone on the nightstand, she saw a new message waiting for her.

Aaron: Didn’t want to wake you. You looked too peaceful. I’ll see you later?

A small smile tugged at her lips.

She typed back quickly.

Cleo: I’ll hold you to that.

She set her phone down, pulling the covers tighter around herself. No labels, no rush—just them.

And for now, that was more than enough.

Cleo stared at her packed suitcase by the door, a sinking feeling settling in her chest. Her flight home was in a few hours, and she didn’t want to go.

London had been good to her—better than she expected. Work had brought her here, but Aaron had made her want to stay.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair before checking her phone again. No new messages from him.

Maybe that’s for the best, she thought. Saying goodbye in person might make it harder.

Still, as much as she tried to convince herself, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was leaving something unfinished.

-

Back in L.A., Cleo threw herself into work. Editing, brand meetings, content planning—anything to keep her mind busy. She told herself she was fine. That what she saw didn’t matter.

But when her phone buzzed with a message from Aaron, that same knot tightened in her stomach.

Aaron: Hey, love. How was your flight?

She stared at the screen, debating how to respond.

Part of her wanted to ignore it, to create some distance until she figured out what she was feeling. But another part—the part that missed him more than she wanted to admit—wanted to ask who she was.

Instead, she took a breath and typed back.

Cleo: Landed fine. Just been busy catching up on work.

She hit send and put her phone down, but her mind was anything but settled.

Cleo barely had time to prepare before her phone lit up with a FaceTime call—Aaron.

She hesitated for only a second before answering.

His face filled the screen, and just seeing him made her shoulders relax. He was in his apartment, hair slightly tousled, wearing a hoodie that made him look even softer than usual.

“Hey, love,” he greeted, his deep voice warm, like he’d been waiting for this call as much as she had.

“Hey yourself,” she replied, settling back into her couch.

He studied her for a moment. “You alright?”

She sighed. “I am now.”

A slow smile spread across his lips. “Good. Because I meant what I said, Cleo. It’s just you.”

She swallowed, suddenly feeling a little shy under his gaze. “I know.”

“Do you?” he pressed, tilting his head slightly. “Because if you need me to say it again, I will.”

Her heart fluttered. Damn him.

“I hear you,” she admitted softly.

“Good.” He leaned back, getting comfortable. “So… about ‘very soon.’ How soon are we talking?”

She smirked, finally feeling like herself again. “You in a rush to see me, Pierre?”

“Always,” he answered without hesitation.

And just like that, the knot in her stomach was completely gone.

He smirks. “Because I was thinking about your lips on mine. Maybe they can start exploring other places.” He says.

Cleo raised an eyebrow, heat creeping up her neck at his boldness. “Oh? And where exactly do you think my lips should be exploring, Pierre?”

Aaron’s smirk deepened, his hazel eyes gleaming with mischief. “I have a few ideas.” His voice dropped slightly, a teasing edge laced in his tone. “But I’d rather show you in person.”

She bit her lip, pretending to think. “Hmm. Tempting offer. But you know, I’m a busy woman.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “And yet, here you are, on FaceTime with me, looking like you’re already thinking about it.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile on her lips. He was right. Damn him again.

Aaron leaned in closer to the camera, his expression turning more serious, more intense. “So… when are you gonna stop playing and let me remind you exactly what you’ve been missing?”

Her breath hitched slightly, but she kept her composure. Barely. “Maybe I just like keeping you on your toes.”

His grin was slow, deliberate. “You do that already, love.”

She exhaled, knowing full well she wasn’t going to win this round. “Give me a few days.”

He nodded, satisfied. “I’ll be waiting.”

Soon he drops the camera down. He’s shirtless. She felt herself get hot. 

Cleo’s breath hitched as Aaron casually dropped the camera lower, revealing his bare chest. The sharp lines of his collarbones, the defined muscle, the way his skin caught the light—it was almost unfair.

Her fingers instinctively tightened around her phone. Damn.

He smirked, clearly noticing the way her eyes lingered. “Something wrong, love?” His voice was laced with amusement, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

She cleared her throat, shifting in her seat. “You did that on purpose.”

He ran a hand over his jaw, feigning innocence. “Did what?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t play dumb.”

He chuckled, his voice dropping an octave. “I just thought we were being honest tonight. You want me, I want you. So why are we still pretending?”

She exhaled, her body betraying her with the warmth pooling in her stomach. “You really don’t like waiting, do you?”

His gaze darkened slightly, his smirk turning into something more deliberate. “Not when it comes to you.”

Cleo bit her lip, feeling her resolve slipping. “Give me a few days,” she repeated, though her voice was softer this time.

Aaron tilted his head. “Two. No more.”

She exhaled, knowing full well she was going to cave before then. “Fine. Two.”

His smirk widened. “Good girl.”

His hand dropped lower. Cleo’s breath caught as Aaron’s hand drifted lower, his movements slow and deliberate. His hazel eyes never left hers, watching her reaction with quiet satisfaction.

“Still keeping me waiting?” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement and something else—something darker, more knowing.

She swallowed, her skin feeling hot despite the cool air in her apartment. “You love teasing me, don’t you?”

His smirk deepened. “I love seeing you like this.”

Her fingers gripped the edge of her phone. She wanted to look away, to keep some sense of control, but he had her right where he wanted.

“Tell me you don’t want me,” he challenged softly. “And I’ll stop.”

Silence stretched between them, thick with tension.

She should play it cool. Keep him guessing. But the truth was, she did want him. Badly.

Her voice came out softer than she intended. “You already know the answer.”

Aaron exhaled, his jaw tightening like he was holding himself back. “Then stop making me wait.”

His hand reached the waistband of his sweats.

Cleo’s breath hitched as Aaron’s fingers teased the waistband of his sweats, his movements slow and deliberate. His gaze stayed locked onto hers, watching, waiting.

Her phone suddenly felt heavier in her hand. She could hear her own heartbeat in her ears, feel the heat creeping up her skin.

“Aaron…” she warned, her voice barely above a whisper.

He smirked, his hazel eyes dark with amusement. “Yes, love?”

She swallowed, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, his thumb slipping just beneath the fabric. “Only if you don’t want to play too.”

Her stomach tightened. He was testing her, pushing her to see how far she’d let him go. And the truth was… she wanted to let him.

She licked her lips, her voice softer now. “You really don’t like waiting, do you?”

His smirk didn’t waver. “Not when it comes to you.”

Heat pooled in her stomach. She should tell him to stop, to keep things from going too far over FaceTime. But damn it, he made it so hard to think straight.

Her silence was enough of an answer.

Aaron’s voice dropped, lower and rougher now. “Tell me what you want, Cleo.”

She swallowed hard. “For you to go lower.” She says. 

Aaron’s smirk deepened, his eyes darkening at her words. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his voice like velvet.

Her breath hitched as he slowly pushed his hand lower, teasing the waistband of his sweats with deliberate patience. He was drawing this out, savoring her reactions, the way her lips parted, the way she leaned just a little closer to the screen.

“You sure about that?” he asked, his tone a mixture of teasing and promise.

Cleo swallowed hard, her fingers gripping her phone tighter. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Pierre.”

His low chuckle sent a shiver down her spine. “Oh, love,” he exhaled, “I always finish what I start.”

She felt the familiar heat pool between her thighs.

Cleo shifted slightly, pressing her thighs together as the heat between them grew unbearable. Aaron’s gaze flickered downward for a brief second, and when he looked back at her, there was no mistaking the hunger in his hazel eyes.

“You look so good like this,” he murmured, voice thick with desire.

She bit her lip, her breath coming quicker. “And you look entirely too pleased with yourself.”

His smirk widened. “Can you blame me?” His hand dipped just a little lower, fingers teasing the fabric at his waist. “You’re hanging onto my every move.”

She swallowed hard, pulse hammering. He was right—she was hanging onto every moment, every inch of him, and he knew it.

“Aaron…” she warned, though there was little conviction behind it.

His voice was a whisper now, dark and smooth. “Say the word, love. Tell me how bad you want it.”

Just like that he stopped. “I booked your flight. See you.” He says.

Cleo blinked, her breath still uneven, her body still thrumming with heat—and just like that, Aaron pulled back with a smirk that was entirely too smug.

“Wait… what?” she asked, her brain struggling to catch up.

He tilted his head, amusement flickering in his hazel eyes. “Your flight. I booked it. You’re coming to London.” His voice was casual, as if he hadn’t just left her hanging on the edge.

She stared at him, completely thrown. “You—what?”

Aaron chuckled, running a hand through his curls. “You didn’t think I was gonna let you stay all the way over there when we both know where you really want to be, did you?”

Her heart pounded for an entirely different reason now. He wanted her there. No more teasing over FaceTime, no more waiting.

“I’ll see you soon, love,” he said smoothly, giving her one last knowing glance before the screen went black.

Cleo sat there, phone in hand, still processing everything. One thing was for sure—Aaron Pierre was going to be the death of her.

-

The moment Cleo stepped out of Heathrow Airport, a sleek black car was already waiting for her at the curb. The driver, dressed in a crisp black suit, held a sign with her name on it.

“Miss Cleo?” he asked politely.

She adjusted her sunglasses and nodded, suppressing a smile. Of course Aaron would do this. Always thoughtful, always making sure she was taken care of—but also always maintaining an air of mystery.

As she slid into the back seat, she pulled out her phone to text him.

Cleo: You sending me a car now? What, no personal welcome?

The car pulled smoothly away from the airport, weaving through the streets of London. Before she could put her phone away, it buzzed with a reply.

Aaron: Patience, love.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the flutter in her chest. He knew exactly what he was doing.

The ride felt both too long and too short. London’s cityscape passed by in a blur—historical buildings, red double-decker buses, streets full of life. But she barely took it in, her mind too focused on him.

When the car finally pulled up to a sleek, modern building in St. John’s Wood, she exhaled slowly.

She stepped out, smoothing her outfit, adjusting her bag. Before she could knock, the door swung open.

Aaron stood there, leaning against the frame, watching her with that slow, knowing smirk. His hazel eyes roamed over her, appreciation clear.

“Hey, stranger,” he murmured.

Cleo arched a brow, stepping closer. “You better have a damn good reason for making me fly across the world.”

Aaron reached for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “Oh, I do,” he said, pulling her inside. “But first—let’s make up for lost time.”

He kissed her forehead. The warmth of Aaron’s lips on her forehead sent a shiver down her spine. It wasn’t rushed or teasing like before—it was intentional, grounding.

Cleo closed her eyes for a brief moment, inhaling his familiar scent—something fresh, clean, and undeniably him.

“I missed you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand.

She smirked, tilting her head up to look at him. “Is that so? Because last time I checked, you were the one playing games on FaceTime.”

Aaron chuckled, the deep sound vibrating in his chest. “And yet, here you are.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her. “Shut up.”

He grinned and pulled her inside, closing the door behind them. “Come on, love. You’ve had a long flight.”

She expected him to lead her to the couch, maybe the kitchen—but instead, he brought her straight to his bedroom.

“Oh? Straight to the bedroom?” she teased, arching a brow. “Bold move, Pierre.”

Aaron gave her a pointed look. “You’re jet-lagged, and I know you won’t admit it.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but as soon as she kicked off her shoes and sat on the edge of the bed, exhaustion crept in.

He crouched in front of her, hands resting on her thighs. “I’ll run you a bath, get you something to eat,” he said softly. “Then, we’ll talk.”

Cleo studied him, her heart flipping at how easily he took care of her. She didn’t have to ask—he just knew.

She sighed dramatically. “Fine. But only because I don’t have the energy to fight you on it.”

Aaron smirked, pressing a kiss to her knee before standing. “You never win those fights anyway.”

She threw a pillow at him, but the truth was, she loved this—the quiet care, the unspoken understanding.

And as she watched him walk away, she realized something terrifying.

She wasn’t just falling for Aaron Pierre.

She already had.

Cleo hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the moment her head hit Aaron’s pillow, exhaustion won. The faint scent of his cologne lingered in the fabric, wrapping around her like a comforting embrace.

Aaron stood at the doorway, watching her for a moment. The way her breathing had slowed, her body curled slightly into the duvet—it was clear she needed the rest. Instead of waking her, he let her be and quietly stepped out of the room.

He pulled out his phone and ordered dinner, making sure to include her favorites. She’d probably fuss about it later, insisting she wasn’t that tired, but he knew better.

As the food was on its way, he busied himself around the apartment, dimming the lights to create a more relaxed atmosphere. He put on a soft playlist—nothing too loud, just enough to fill the silence.

Every so often, he’d peek into the bedroom, just to check on her. And every time, he found himself smiling. She looked so peaceful, so at home.

By the time the food arrived, he set the table but hesitated before waking her. Instead, he knelt by the bed, brushing a few loose strands of hair from her face.

“Cleo,” he murmured, his voice gentle.

She stirred slightly, but her eyes didn’t open.

He chuckled to himself and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “Come on, love. You need to eat.”

She groaned sleepily, stretching but still not opening her eyes. “Mmm… five more minutes.”

Aaron smirked. “That’s what you said last time.”

She peeked one eye open, meeting his gaze. “You kept checking on me, didn’t you?”

He didn’t even try to deny it. “Maybe.”

She smiled sleepily. “That’s cute.”

“Eat first, then you can go back to calling me cute,” he said, offering his hand.

She took it, letting him pull her up, and as she followed him to the table, she realized something—

This felt dangerously close to home.

Cleo raised a brow as she took a seat, eyeing the spread in front of her. Jerk chicken, rice and peas, plantain, festival—it smelled divine.

“You an island boy?” she teased, picking up a fork.

Aaron smirked as he sat across from her. “Half. My mother’s Jamaican.”

She hummed, impressed. “That makes sense. You’ve got that quiet, mysterious, ‘I’ll protect you but I can also throw down in the kitchen’ energy.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I can cook a little, but don’t gas me up just yet.”

Cleo took a bite of the jerk chicken and closed her eyes with a satisfied hum. “Well, if you did make this, I might have to wife you up immediately.”

Aaron’s smirk deepened. “Oh yeah? That easy?”

She pointed her fork at him. “Listen, a man who feeds me and looks good doing it? Dangerous combination.”

He leaned back in his chair, watching her with that unreadable expression she was still figuring out. “Noted.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a few moments before she spoke again.

“So, your dad’s the British side?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. Met my mum in London, and the rest is history.”

“Did you grow up around a lot of Jamaican culture?”

Aaron smiled at the question. “Definitely. Mum made sure of it. Sunday dinners, reggae in the house, trips back to Jamaica whenever we could. It’s a big part of who I am.”

Cleo studied him, fascinated. She liked learning these little details about him, peeling back his layers one by one.

“Alright, serious question,” she said, putting down her fork. “What’s your go-to order at a Caribbean spot? ‘Cause this will determine whether or not I continue seeing you.”

Aaron chuckled, playing along. “Curry goat with rice and peas. Extra gravy. And a Ting to drink.”

She grinned. “Solid. I can respect that.”

He smirked. “I’m glad I passed your test.”

“Barely,” she teased. “One wrong move, and you would’ve been on thin ice.”

Aaron leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “And what’s your go-to order, then?”

She smirked. “Oxtail. If they don’t got oxtail, I don’t want it.”

He nodded, thoroughly impressed. “Respect.”

They fell into easy conversation again, talking about everything and nothing, the tension from earlier replaced by something warmer. Something deeper.

And as Aaron watched Cleo laugh over her plate, he realized—this wasn’t just casual anymore.

She was starting to feel like home.

After they finished eating, Aaron leaned back against the couch, watching Cleo with a relaxed expression. Without a word, he reached for her legs, pulling her feet into his lap.

She raised a brow. “Oh, so we’re at this level of comfort now?”

He smirked, his fingers tracing over her ankle before he started kneading the arch of her foot with practiced ease. “You’ve been traveling all day. Thought I’d help you relax.”

Cleo exhaled, sinking into the cushions. “You’re dangerous,” she murmured as his thumbs worked out the tension in her feet.

Aaron chuckled. “How so?”

“First, you feed me. Now, you’re out here giving foot rubs like some undercover masseuse?” She peeked at him through half-lidded eyes. “What’s next? You gonna run me a bath?”

He tilted his head, considering it. “Would that be a bad thing?”

Her stomach flipped at the thought. She wasn’t used to this—someone taking their time with her, doing things just because they wanted to. She’d been wined and dined before, but this? This was intentional.

She swallowed, trying to keep things light. “Nah, but if you keep this up, I might start expecting it.”

Aaron’s grip on her foot tightened slightly as he smirked. “Good.”

Her breath caught.

This man.

The way he said things so simply yet with so much weight.

She shook her head, fighting a smile. “You’re real smooth, you know that?”

He just shrugged, continuing his slow, deliberate massage. “Not my fault you like it.”

She sighed, giving in to the feeling. Maybe she did like it. Maybe she liked him more than she was willing to admit.

And as he kept working his hands over her skin, Cleo realized something—she didn’t want to leave London anytime soon.

“Now. All this and you haven’t even once said anything sexual.” She says. 

Aaron let out a low chuckle, his fingers still working over the curve of her foot. He glanced at her, amusement flickering in those hazel eyes.

“Didn’t think I had to,” he said smoothly. “You’re already melting in my hands.”

Cleo narrowed her eyes, but the smirk tugging at her lips betrayed her. “So, you do know what you’re doing.”

“Of course.” He ran his thumb along her ankle, the movement slow, deliberate. “But see, I’m not in a rush. I don’t have to say anything sexual to get under your skin.”

She exhaled, trying to fight the heat creeping up her neck. He was too good. Too confident in a way that wasn’t cocky, just… certain. Like he already knew how she’d react before she even did.

“So what is this then?” she challenged. “Some kind of seduction tactic?”

Aaron leaned back against the couch, never letting go of her foot. “Nah. Just me appreciating you.” He paused, letting his fingers trail just a little higher along her calf. “If that happens to turn you on, that’s a bonus.”

Cleo let out a slow breath. He wasn’t playing fair.

“Dangerous,” she murmured again.

Aaron smirked, his grip tightening slightly. “You keep calling me that like it’s a bad thing.”

She tilted her head. “It might be.”

His eyes locked onto hers, intense and unshaken. “Then why aren’t you running?”

Her heart pounded, but she refused to look away. Instead, she smiled, slow and knowing. “Who said I want to?”

Just like that, he kissed her.

No hesitation. No overthinking. Just action.

Aaron’s lips met hers in a way that felt deliberate—slow, controlled, but with a quiet intensity that sent heat rushing through her. His hand, still resting on her calf, slid up just a little, fingertips tracing over her skin like he was memorizing the feeling.

Cleo sighed against his lips, her own hands finding their way to his jaw, feeling the slight stubble beneath her palms. He kissed like he did everything else—patient, like he had all the time in the world. Like he wanted to take his time with her.

She let herself sink into it, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. His grip on her leg tightened, his other hand moving to her waist, pulling her just that much closer.

When they finally pulled apart, her breathing was uneven, her lips tingling. Aaron looked at her, his gaze dark, searching.

“So,” he murmured, thumb brushing against her waist. “Still think I’m dangerous?”

Cleo swallowed, trying to gather her thoughts, but the warmth of his touch and the weight of his stare made it impossible.

“Absolutely.”

His lips twitched. “And yet, you’re still here.”

She smirked, running a finger along his jawline. “Like I said… who said I want to run?”

“Just fuck me.” She whispered. Aaron’s gaze darkened, his grip on her tightening just slightly. He let out a slow breath, his jaw clenching like he was trying to maintain some semblance of control.

“You sure?” he murmured, his voice low, rough.

Cleo didn’t hesitate. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his as she whispered again, “Just fuck me.”

For a second, he just stared at her, like he was committing this moment to memory. Then, without another word, he scooped her up, hands firm as he carried her to the bedroom.

The night was just beginning.

Once he tossed her on the bed. He raised his arms to the top of the canopy looking her over.

Aaron stood at the edge of the bed, arms raised, gripping the top of the canopy frame as he looked her over. His hazel eyes were hooded, taking in the way she sprawled out beneath him, waiting.

Cleo propped herself up on her elbows, her breath uneven, but she wasn’t about to let him have all the control. “You just gonna stand there and admire, or…?” she teased, trailing a hand down her stomach.

His lips curled into a slow smirk, but he didn’t move just yet. “I like the view,” he murmured, his deep voice thick with heat. “But I think I’d like it even better up close.”

Then, finally, he moved.

He slowly arched her back.

Aaron’s hands slid down her spine, guiding her into the perfect arch. His fingers traced the curve of her back, his touch deliberate and teasing.

"That’s it, love," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Just like that."

Cleo’s breath hitched as she felt his lips graze the back of her neck, his hands spreading over her hips, holding her in place. She turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze over her shoulder.

"You better not keep me waiting," she warned, her voice sultry yet impatient.

Aaron smirked, pressing a lingering kiss to her shoulder. "I wouldn’t dare."

Her moans filled the room as he found his rhythm, each deep thrust making her grip the sheets tighter. Aaron’s hands held her firmly, his grip possessive yet reverent.

“Damn, love,” he groaned, watching the way her body responded to him. “You feel so good.”

Cleo arched her back even more, pressing into him, meeting his every movement. “You always know how to get me like this,” she panted.

He leaned over her, his lips brushing against her ear. “That’s because I know this body like it’s mine.”

His strokes grew erratic, the intensity building as he chased both of their highs. Cleo’s moans became breathier, her fingers curling into the sheets as her body trembled beneath him.

“Aaron…” she gasped, her voice strained with pleasure.

“Shit, love,” he groaned, gripping her hips tighter, trying to hold on just a little longer. But the way she clenched around him made it impossible. His movements stuttered, his breath ragged as he reached his peak, burying himself deep with a final, shaky thrust.

He collapsed forward, pressing lazy kisses along her shoulder, both of them catching their breath. Cleo let out a blissful sigh, her body still humming from the aftermath.

-

“Is they why flew me out?” She asks

Aaron chuckled, low and deep, as he finally crawled onto the bed, settling between her legs. His hands skimmed over her thighs, slow and deliberate, his touch just enough to make her shiver.

“That why I flew you out?” he echoed, tilting his head as if considering it. His fingers pressed into her skin, firm but teasing. “Nah. I flew you out because I wanted you here.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “But this?” He dragged his lips down to her neck, lingering just enough to make her breath hitch. “This is just a bonus.”

-

The next morning, Cleo was curled up under the covers, the soft warmth of the sheets wrapped around her. She stretched slightly, expecting the familiar ache from the night before—but to her surprise, she wasn’t sore.

She blinked, staring at the ceiling for a moment before shifting onto her side. Aaron was still beside her, lying on his stomach, his face turned toward her, the early morning light highlighting the sharp angles of his face. His lashes were long, his breathing even, his body relaxed.

She smirked to herself, trailing a finger lightly down his bare back. “Not bad, island boy,” she murmured under her breath.

Aaron stirred at the touch, his lips twitching into a lazy smirk before he cracked one eye open. “Not bad?” His voice was thick with sleep, rough in a way that sent a little thrill through her. “That’s all I get?”

Cleo bit her lip, playing with the edge of the sheet. “I mean… I expected to be sore.”

Aaron let out a low chuckle, shifting onto his side to face her. His fingers traced along her arm, lazy and unhurried. “That just means I took my time,” he murmured, eyes locked on hers. “But if you want to be sore…”

Her breath caught as he leaned in, lips brushing against her neck.

“…I can fix that.”

She wanted to push his limits. “How rough and primal can you get?” She asks.

Aaron’s sleepy smirk faded, replaced with something darker, more intense. His fingers, which had been tracing lazy circles on her skin, stilled. His hazel eyes locked onto hers, searching, assessing.

“You really wanna find out?” His voice was deeper now, rough like gravel, laced with something dangerous.

Cleo’s breath hitched, but she didn’t back down. Instead, she dragged a finger down his chest, her nails grazing his skin just enough to tease. “I can handle it.”

Aaron exhaled slowly, like he was holding something back. Then, in one swift motion, he flipped her onto her stomach, his body pressing against her from behind. His hand slid up the back of her neck, fingers threading into her hair as he tugged just enough to tilt her head to the side, his lips grazing her ear.

“You’re playing with fire, love,” he murmured, his accent thick, sending a shiver down her spine. His grip tightened slightly. “But if you really want rough and primal…” He nipped at the side of her neck, his free hand running down the curve of her back, pressing her into the mattress.

“…Then you better brace yourself.”

She let out a whimper. She upped the ante. “For someone who’s shy. You’re doing a lot of talking.” She says.

Aaron stilled for half a second, then let out a low, dangerous chuckle against her skin. “Oh, so that’s how you wanna play it?”

His grip in her hair tightened—not painful, but enough to let her know she was poking the beast. He shifted his weight, pressing her further into the mattress, his breath hot against the shell of her ear.

“You think ‘shy’ means soft?” he murmured, his voice a dark promise. His fingers dragged slowly down her spine, his touch featherlight before suddenly gripping her hip, keeping her exactly where he wanted her. “Nah, love. Shy just means I don’t give this side to everyone.”

He pressed a lingering kiss behind her ear before biting down just enough to make her gasp.

“But since you wanna see what I’m really like…” His lips curled into a smirk against her skin.

“…I hope you can keep up.”

-

She woke up hours later sore and confused.

Cleo blinked up at the ceiling, her body feeling like it had been put through a workout she hadn't trained for. Every muscle ached in the best way possible. She shifted slightly, wincing at the soreness in her thighs. Damn.

Her confusion set in when she realized she was alone. The sheets next to her were cool, and the space where Aaron had been was empty.

She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes, trying to piece together the hours before she’d knocked out. The last thing she remembered was Aaron pushing her to her absolute limit—whispering things in that deep, accented voice that had her melting—and then…black.

A deep chuckle broke her out of her daze. She turned her head, finding Aaron leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her with amused satisfaction.

“You good?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement. “You were out for a minute.”

Cleo scoffed, rolling her shoulders as she reached for the sheet to cover herself. “You didn’t have to break me.”

Aaron pushed off the doorframe and walked toward her, the lazy smirk never leaving his face. He leaned down, brushing his lips over hers before whispering, “You asked me to show you.”

She looks up at him. “How do you….how are you like a sexual perfectionist?” She asks.

Aaron let out a low chuckle, sitting on the edge of the bed, his fingers tracing absentminded circles on her thigh.

“Sexual perfectionist?” he mused, tilting his head. “That’s a new one.”

Cleo scoffed, pulling the sheet around her tighter. “I’m serious. You’re—” She gestured vaguely at him, still trying to wrap her head around the absolute way he had just wrecked her. “You know exactly what to do, when to do it, and how to make me damn near forget my own name. Like… how?”

Aaron’s smirk deepened, his hazel eyes darkening slightly. “Simple,” he said, running his fingers along the inside of her thigh just enough to make her shiver. “I listen. I watch. I learn.”

He leaned in, his voice dropping to that devastating low register. “Every sound you make, every way your body reacts—I take notes. And then, I apply them.”

Cleo swallowed, her breath hitching as she held his gaze. “That’s…lowkey terrifying.”

Aaron grinned. “Terrifyingly good.” He kissed the side of her neck, his hand still lazily tracing her thigh. “But if you’re saying I’ve ruined you for anyone else…” He pulled back just enough to look at her, his expression turning serious.

“…Then good.”

She smiles. “Now. Can I that warm bath?” She asks.

Aaron chuckled, shaking his head as he stood up. “Yeah, yeah. I got you.”

He walked over to the en-suite bathroom, and moments later, she heard the sound of water running. The scent of eucalyptus and vanilla filled the air as he added something to the bath—probably one of his expensive oils.

Cleo stretched before standing, wincing slightly. Yep. Sore. She shuffled toward the bathroom, where Aaron stood, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater.

He looked up at her, smirking. “Need help getting in?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I can manage.”

He stepped aside, gesturing toward the tub like a gentleman. “Go on then.”

Cleo dipped a toe into the warm water and sighed. “Oh, this is nice.” She slid in slowly, letting the heat soothe her muscles.

Aaron crouched beside the tub, resting his arms on the edge. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

She smiled, sinking deeper into the water. “I could get used to this.”

Aaron’s eyes softened as he watched her. “Then do.”

-

Over the next couple of days she fell more in love with him. 

Each day with Aaron felt effortless. The kind of easy, natural connection she hadn’t realized she was craving until she had it.

Mornings started with slow kisses and whispered jokes, his deep voice still laced with sleep. Afternoons were spent exploring London—sometimes in the open, sometimes in the quiet corners of the city where no one would recognize them. He took her to his favorite spots, the ones he kept to himself, letting her into his world in ways that felt more intimate than any touch.

Nights? Nights were their own kind of magic. Some filled with heated passion, others with soft laughter and tangled limbs under the sheets, talking about everything and nothing.

It was the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. The way he always made sure she was on the inside of the sidewalk. The way he would absentmindedly rub circles on the back of her hand when they held hands.

She was falling. Hard.

And for the first time in a long time, Cleo wasn’t afraid to admit it—to herself, at least.

One night she was half sleep on his chest. Content.

Aaron’s fingers traced slow, absentminded patterns along her back. The steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her was comforting, lulling her deeper into that hazy space between wakefulness and sleep.

“You’re really comfortable, you know that?” she murmured, voice heavy with exhaustion.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Glad to be of service.”

Cleo sighed, nuzzling closer. “Don’t get cocky.”

“No promises.” His hand slid up to cradle the back of her head, his touch light, protective.

Silence settled between them, but it wasn’t awkward. It was warm, familiar, like they had done this a thousand times before.

Then, in a voice so quiet she almost didn’t hear it, he said, “I like having you here.”

Her heart skipped.

She didn’t respond right away—mostly because she wasn’t sure she trusted her voice. Instead, she squeezed his side gently, hoping he understood.

But Aaron wasn’t one to let things go so easily. “You hear me?”

“Mhm.”

“You gonna say something back?”

She lifted her head slightly, eyes meeting his in the dim light. “I like being here.”

His lips quirked into that small, knowing smile. “Good.”

She laid back down, content in a way she hadn’t been in a long time..

“How do you like my city?” He asks.

She hummed, still half-asleep, her fingers lazily tracing along his chest. “It’s beautiful. Cold as hell, but beautiful.”

Aaron chuckled, his hand sliding up and down her back. “That’s London for you. Can’t promise sunshine, but it has its charm.”

She smirked, tilting her head to look up at him. “It definitely has its charm.”

His brow raised slightly, catching the way she was looking at him. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.” She nestled closer, sighing contentedly. “I like the views.”

He smirked. “The city’s views or…?”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “Don’t get a big head.”

He let out a deep laugh, pulling her even closer. “Too late.”

She shook her head but didn’t fight it. Being here, in his arms, in his city—it felt right. And that realization both excited and terrified her.

“Do you want to go back stateside?” He asks.

Cleo exhaled slowly, her fingers still idly tracing over his chest. She knew the question was coming, but hearing it out loud made her stomach tighten.

“I mean… eventually, yeah,” she admitted. “My work is there. My life is there.”

Aaron nodded, his expression unreadable. “Makes sense.”

She studied his face, searching for something—hesitation, disappointment, anything—but he was as calm as ever. “Why? You thinking of sending me off already?” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

His hand slid up to her chin, tilting her face toward his. “Not at all,” he murmured. “Just wondering if I should start finding reasons to make you stay.”

Her breath hitched.

For a man so private, so seemingly reserved, Aaron had a way of saying things that knocked the air right out of her lungs.

“You’re serious?” she whispered.

His hazel eyes locked onto hers, and the weight of his gaze made her heart race. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

Cleo swallowed. She should’ve known better than to think this was just some fleeting moment for him. Aaron wasn’t the type to waste time—if he was saying this, it meant something.

And now, she had to ask herself—did she want to stay?

Tags 🏷️

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @kimuzostar @kenshisluvrgirl @planetblaque @bimbosnbutterflies2026 @chewingmy3xtragum @easybrezzy @blowmymbackout @melaninpov @todorokishoe24 @chaoticcoffeequeen @brattyfics @notapradagurl7 @gopaperless @jenlovey @nikkinik @novahreign @violetmuses @fakxmbj

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - THERE IS SO MUCH ON RIGHT NOW, it's crazy-making!

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

July 2024 Week 1

Ongoing Series - Thai

Wandee Goodday (Sat YT) ep 10 of 12 - I am with Dee, noodles do solve everything. The brothers were SO GOOD together. I’m getting to really love a back drop in BL, it’s like the mic drop of gay boys smooching. This is such a good show. I had a big grin on my face while also crying a bit. Everything I want from a BL is happening right here, in front of my eyes.

Did they gloss over the trauma a bit? Yes. Do I care? No. I don't like dwelling in trauma in general, mine, friends, online, or in my BL.

The Rebound (Weds Gaga) ep 2 of 12 - All Thai mafia is gay… again. Yes, it’s still great. No, I have no idea why they’re dropping so many eps at once. That’s not normal for a Thai drama. But I’m not gonna complain except there’s a lot on right now. I like the side couple too. I also like Frank’s poor little rich kid side dish action. I mean, Meen is an ult for me, but Frank is giving excellent second lead syndrome. Suspiciously aggressive and a touch stalker, but I don’t mind a boy that sus if he that cute. And of course, with the mafia involved there is kidnapping.

Look, is this the best show currently airing? No. Which is why it slid a little in the standings. But that's only because Wandee hit it out of the park this week. Frankly, this may not be the best BL airing right now, but it’s the best BL for me.

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 4 of 12 - That oppa bit was fucking genius. (You get it right? If you don't, I can explain.) And I immediately adore the secretary character as a result (I typed that as "reslut" and that works too.) Pleased to have such a "rich man and his spoiled boy" dynamic it going already. A dynamic I am personally IRL familiar with from the 90s. Also, kiddies stop filming adults at play! Sheesh.

I pretty much love all the couples in this show. It’s lots of fun. SamYo’s cat and mouse thing is delightful. Meanwhile, the mains are so sweetly hesitant about kisses and everything (hilarious coming from this pair). I love them and their awkward first time, or whatever is going on.

Do you know what? After that "oppa" comment this lead pair makes me feel a little bit like I’m watching a gay K-drama, similar style of personalities and everything, even the random martial arts ability. And the outing. I'm getting Business Proposal vibes. Nothing wrong with that, I was weaned on K-dramas.

All in all, great episode.

My Stand-In (Fri iQIYI) ep 11 of 12 - Yet again I spent the entire episode saying "poor Joe" over and over again. This time I didn’t cry though.

The pat way to end this is to have Joe walk through that door and then wake up back when he was about to get into the motorcycle accident. So that none of it ever happened. I suppose we’ll see what they do next week but I hope it isn’t that.

We Are Cute (Weds iQIYI) ep 14 of 16 - Do you know what this friendship group reminds me of the most? The old Love Sick music club boys. This is just the college version... 10 years later. (Love Sick was one of the few shows where I mostly didn’t yell “no singing” at the screen (also Ingredients). In my defense, I didn’t know any better back then.)

As boyfriends, PhumPeem are even more puppy/cat paring. And I am even more delighted by it. And them. In fact, this show is ALL puppy/cat pairings. I’m not mad about it.

"I’m hugging you so you won’t feel hungry" is the weirdest pick up ever. But Phum is weird. 

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Fri iQIYI) ep 1 of 8 - The PittBabe team behind a new restaurant set BL full of hidden agendas and starring my new favorites SailubPon. I’m reminded so much right off the bat of PokeTongue’s side dish couple in What’s Zabb Man. Interesting, considering that came from Pon’s former studio. Love the call out of obnoxious content creators (not to mention corporate property developers). I like the chef character, he’s nicely complex. In fact, so far I like most of the characters, it’s a good range of different personality types. The plot is a little contrived and complicated but I don’t mind because the characters are such fun.

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 1 of 12 - Reported on this last week already but here's what I said:

Gun still looks like he’s just out of high school. Madness.

The set for the print shop reminds me of Mork’s dad’s place in ‘Cause He’s My Boy? I swear GMMTV has only 3 sets.

I wasn't looking forward to this show at all. Maybe I just needed more of a break from OffGun? Cooking Crush happened yesterday.

Whatever, because I was absolutely riveted by this first episode.

I’m enjoying The Trainee a lot. Like, a lot a lot. It's not higher up just because there is so much good content from Thailand airing right now.

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 5 of 12 - Still a chaos muffin no matter which country. So earnest. So cute. Talking stage commence!!!

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 4 of 10 - I got so bored I started looking up ways to organize my sunglasses. Trash watch here.

Knock Knock Boys (Thurs Gaga) ep 6-7 of 12 - The exes are odd. I like that Latte finally got some backstory.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) Ep 2 of 10 - I’m still enjoying this quite a bit. It’s paralleling the manga quite closely, which is nice. But it’s not gonna be a particularly exciting drama if this continues. The manga is rather quiet (pun intended to amuse not insult).

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - Look, if some kid followed me to college and changed the whole course of his life because I was nice about his dead bird? I'd be skeeved as fuck too. It's odd and uncomfortable, in that way Japan loves. Visuals are on point but can't say I'm enjoying it as yet. Still, it is JBL, and so I am intrigued and open to all possibilities.

It's airing but...

The Last Time (Thai Fri YT?) - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something. Can't find it.

OMG Vampire (Thai Sun ???) 10 eps - I've put the search on hold for and y'all can let me know if it's worth tracking down once it ends?

In case you missed it

Blue Boys finished it run. I like it quite a bit. This felt a lot like a Strongberry short series. It’s very curtailed and could’ve used some legs but I've been trained into ignoring that for Korean BL. Short has always been their thing. Essentially, two boys who were acquaintances in high school are reunited and it turns out always had crushes on each other. It’s definitely an extrovert meets introvert scenario, and this being Korea, they can’t resist a tiny love triangle in the eleventh hour. But it all came out fine in the end. It has great kisses and higher heat than is normal from Korea. All in all, a surprisingly charming offering. Recommended with some reservations around the brevity of plot and character development. 8/10 

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer released to Korean theaters 5/25. HoTae & DongHee, side couple from Unintentional Love Story are back! Same actors, same character names. I love them. Devastated this hasn't had international distribution. I demand you tell me the moment you find it!

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

July Releases to Come

7/10 Century of Love (Thai Gaga) 10 eps - trailer here, DaouOffroad are back, this time as fated mates in a quasi historical paranormal moment. San has spent many lifetimes waiting for his lost beloved, to reincarnate from her death a century ago. But if he fails to find her within this century's time window, he will succumb to a tragic death. And this time she's a boy. Very much Director Who Buys Me Dinner meets First Love Again, hopefully better than both. I love this pair and think they can handle the premise, it's whether the storytelling is up to the challenge. I'm curious to see but I have reservations.

7/24 I Saw You in My Dream (Thai Weds WeTV) - Dee Hup is behind this one so I have high hopes. Younger boy chronically teased his whole life by the older boy next door suddenly starts having horrific prophetic dreams about his bully and must save hime.

7/26 4 Minutes (Thai Netflix or iQIYI?) - Great is a university student from Faculty of Business and the son of a wealthy business owner. Out of the blue, he gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future.

7/29 Battle of the Writers (Thai ????) - trailer here, TutorYim return and while I adore them, I really hope this is better than Middleman's Love. Won't be hard. However: that premise! Ugh. Something something authors fighting - save me. Why don't writers understand that nothing is more boring than writers?

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Product placement du jour! Also the only product placed in a BL that I regularly enjoy myself.

Yes I cried. I'm a sap.

The faens in the wive's positions! So cute.

All Wandee

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in it's infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

There's these tricks, remember.

[artstennisracket]

I need need need housewife!Art post-US open since he’s retired and now he can take care of Patrick domestically

Inspo: Cater 2 U by Destiny’s Child

wow wow wow I loveeeeee this song, and I think you hit the nail on the head because Art would definitely do this. i did take some liberties and only focused on the cooking part but hope you like it! (also this is ridiculously long my apologies)

cw: nsfw (18+), light feminization, pregnancy/breeding kink? (idek man), gender roles

After winning his last shot at the U.S. Open, Art felt like he could finally breathe. He could wake up when he wanted, eat what he wanted, do what he wanted, do who he wanted.

It didn’t take long for Art to rekindle with Patrick after the challenger. It was actually Tashi’s idea. She thought it could be beneficial for their relationship to introduce Patrick into whatever they had going on. At first, Art didn’t know what to think or how to feel but once Tashi reassured him that she felt it was best and they would figure out what to tell Lily when the time came, Art agreed.

And she was so right. Having Patrick around wasnt only helpful but it just felt right. Slowly but surely Art had opened up to the idea of Patrick being their boyfriend. Not to mention Patrick was actually amazing with Lily, who knew he’d be so great with kids?

Now that Art was retired, he spent most of his days at home. He still went to the gym most days to maintain his physique but his workouts were less intense. He no longer woke up at 4:30 am but got to sleep in until 8 am. This way he could get in a good workout before Lily woke up around 9:30 am. Now that Art was usually home, they cut their nanny’s hours to only when needed, like if they went out for date night. They also cut their private chef’s hours. Art would usually make breakfast, lunch, and sometimes dinner for everyone if he felt up to it. Except Patrick, their private chef and nutritionist would work together to formulate Patrick’s meal plan since he was still training.

Art loved spending more time with Lily. He felt like he was actually getting the chance to be a dad first as opposed to being a tennis player first.

Tashi was going away for a week to attend paris fashion week so it would just be Art and Lily home most of the time (like usual) since Patrick was still on his training schedule.

For this week Art really wanted to take the time to take care of Patrick since Patrick’s been working so hard prepping for the US Open, so he had dropped Lily off at his mom’s house for the week.

That morning when Patrick had woken up at 5:00 am to get ready for the day, their bed was empty, where’s Art? It didn’t take long for Patrick to get dressed and head downstairs. He walks into the kitchen to find Art pouring a smoothie into a glass.

“good morning,” Art smiles, he doesn’t bother getting a straw because he already knows Patrick is going to gulp this down in two minutes.

“and to what do I owe this pleasure? you usually sleep in.” Patrick asks walking around the kitchen island and taking a sip of his smoothie.

Art shrugs, “i gave the private chef the week off so I’m gonna do all ur meal prep this week.”

Patrick raises his eyebrows, smirking, “oh really? you cooking for me? i might have to get on one knee and propose to you right now.”

Art scoffs laughing, “yeah yeah yeah, you better hurry up because you were supposed to be at training,” Art checks his phone for the time, “two minutes ago.”

Patrick gulps down the rest of his smoothie and gives Art a peck in the cheek saying, “thank you babe,” as he jogs outside towards their home tennis court.

…

Around lunch time, Art had just finishing plating both his and Patrick’s food when Patrick walks in from outside.

“so what’s for lunch?” Patrick asks taking a seat on one of the barstools next to the kitchen island. He is very sweaty, so he uses his towel to dry off his face.

“same as always, chicken, rice, vegetables.” Art responds placing Patrick’s plate in front of him. Art places his own plate next to Patrick’s and takes a seat.

“you know you making me food actually really turns me on.” Patrick says, muffled since he’s already started stuffing his mouth with food.

Art laughs, taking a bite of his food. “uh huh, i feel like everything makes you horny.”

“no im serious, it just feels so domestic, like your my wife.” Patrick smirks, finishing up the last of his food.

“ha ha, very funny. did you every stop to think that maybe i just— like taking care of you. your working really hard with all your training for the open and i’m just really proud of you” Art says still looking down at his plate.

“that is really fucking sweet, fuck sweetheart. can I make a request for dinner?” Patrick says leaning towards Art and invading his personal space.

“Patrick you know I have to stick to the meal plan, Tashi would actually kill me.” Art retorts, turning to face Patrick.

He whispers in Art’s ear, “when you make dinner I want you to only be wearing an apron.”

Art starts blushing almost immediately and nods softly showing he understands.

“good,” Patrick smirks, “now I have to practice with that image in my head, it’s gonna be hard to focus.”

…

When Patrick finished training he went straight upstairs to shower and change into something more comfy while Art worked on dinner.

By the time he came back downstairs he saw Art. In the kitchen. Only wearing an apron. Fuck. Since the back of the apron is open, Art’s back and ass is exposed.

“i know i asked for this but goddamn your ass looks fucking amazing.” Patrick groans walking over to stand behind Art. He kneads and gropes, squeezing the meat of Art’s ass.

“Patrick,” Art squeals in surprise, he’s still facing the stove occasionally stirring the broccoli he’s sautéing.

Patrick doesn’t skip a beat as he starts kissing the side of Art’s neck. “i think i’m gonna need to have dessert before dinner.”

“but Patrick i need to finish—” Art gets cut off when a moan escapes his own lips. Patrick had started sucking a hickey onto his neck.

“it can wait, fuck I need you.” Patrick gets down on his knees, spreading Art’s cheeks apart before he starts licking into Art’s hole.

Art drops his spoon on the floor in surprise. He grips the edge of the countertop, “oh fuck patrick fuck that feel so good.”

Patrick pulls back for just a second, inserting one finger into Art. “yeah, you like that?”

Art starts fucking himself back on Patrick’s fingering, nodding. Patrick add another finger until he works up to three fingers.

“who knew my wife was such a fucking slut? fucking yourself back on my fingers. havent even fucked you properly yet.”

Art starts whining, “please fuck me, fuck, i need it, i need you, i need— ah, fuck.” Patrick had pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his cock in one swift motion. He grabs Art’s hips and starts fucking into him rapidly.

“fuck you’re so fucking tight.” Patrick moans

“yes fuck keep fucking my hole please, faster please.” Art whines trying to keep himself upright.

“awe my wife really is a greedy fucking cockslut hm.” Patrick grunts out. “touch yourself.”

Art moves his hand under the front of his apron and starts jerking off. He’s already close.

Patrick leans “do you want me to cum inside you? get you fucking pregnant? since you wanna be a housewife?”

And that went straight to Art’s dick. “fuck yes please please please cum inside me, i want you to get me pregnant.”

Patrick smirks, he wasn’t sure how Art was going to respond to what he said but he was pleasantly surprised, “are you gonna cum for me? make a mess on your apron?”

Art nods moaning, “yes fuck, i’m gonna cu— ah fuck.” Art spills all on the inside of his apron, some of it even getting on his chest and tummy.

Patrick isn’t too far behind and he spills deep inside Art. He does his last couple thrusts making sure to bury his cum deep inside of Art, like he wanted to get him pregnant.

And Art had burned everything he made for dinner but Patrick helped him remake everything.

When Tashi comes back a week later and sees the burnt staining on a few of the pots and pans she questions their private chef about it but he has no idea where they came from.

[itsaleiah]

ROMANCING MR HALF-DEVIL | Vergil X Original Character

CHAPTER TWO: Traces Of The Future, Alessa

SUMMARY: Alessa Vera is a dreamer. She’s dreamt of many things to come for many times, believing that all of it is just a one big nightmare… but what if it isn’t?

"They're in danger, daddy I saw it!"

"What are you talking about Alessa?”

Alessa Vera was a dreamer.

She knew that when she was born, she was going to follow her mother's footsteps to stardom. She had no idea of the true life of her father, the true history of their family.

She had dreams of extravagance, of the future, of her future self.

She imagined herself on the stage, performing exactly like her mother, selling out millions of records and making people happy. Its what she ever wanted, to make other feel positive.

For little Alessa, helping others was the best thing a person could ever do. Little did she know, she had abilities that would exactly allow her to help, just not in the way that she expected.

But one day, things changed. Her dreams went from falling to a tunnel to... weird and realistic if you put it in simple context.

It was a nightmare, a regular dream and a paralysis demon all at once.

It first happened when she was 4, before she and her older brother met Sparda and his family. She remembered falling asleep to one of her father's tales of hunting down demons, a habit that they do even now.

She could feel her body surrendering to her restless dreams as her eyes fluttered shut. A few minutes later Alessa grumbled, having been woken up not even an hour in her sleep. She was ready to hit Hector when suddenly, she realized that she wasn't in her room nor her home.

Her heart started beating fast, not used to the unfamiliar surroundings. Where am I?

"Hector, Mom, Dad?" She opened the door and called out through the halls, afraid of what may await her in this place.

It took a few minutes without her family's response that she finally started walking around the place, though lightly, as to not alert what could probably be monsters around. As she wandered around, she realized just how massive the place is. It wasn't a house, it was a castle! And she was all alone... Maybe Daddy thought that we should have a family trip and they didn't bother to tell me? (How weird.. Hector would probably do something to make me cry or wake me up if that were the case.) The castle was very beautiful, the tapestries and designs were placed intricately - though the aura was lonely, making her wonder who or if anybody ever lived here. Little Alessa would have probably enjoyed it and even thrived in being there if it wasn't so.. Grim.

It felt so real, as if she was actually in there. And maybe she was? She couldn't tell anymore. The first thing she did was explore the castle. Nobody was there anyway and who would dare hurt her? Her father's the most powerful human in the world! Just one strand being misplaced would result in the evil demons getting their butts kicked!

As she turned a corner, she noticed a blade sticking out on the wall. It has lightning thingies in it. A part of her, the rebellious part of her, wanted to touch it but fortunately enough, the sensible part in the four year old's mind won, remembering her mother's scolding: "Don't touch things that aren't yours, Li!"

Leaving the sword behind, little Alessa walked around humming her mother's favorite tune, strolling as if she owned the place. When she finally got comfortable in the lonely halls of the palace, someone.. or something started crawling on top of her.

At first she didn't notice it until one of its webs fell in her hair. The young girl slowly looked up to see what it was and saw the monstrous creature looking up at her with malice and full intent on doing something to her.

She froze in her place, scared. As if moving was going to trigger the spider's cruel thoughts. But if she didn't do anything, it would get her either way - easier.

Run.

She felt her feet move on their accord, instantly doing everything to get away from that horrifying creature.

"Daddy, help me!" The poor girl cried out. The thing

being so cruel as to tease the little girl around the hallways. At first it would follow behind - and then it would climb up to look at her to frighten and terrify the girl even further - and then it would stop, approaching slowly and still keeping up to show that if it had gotten bored, it would have gotten the girl easily.

Alessa could feel the tears that were threatening to spill from her eyes, wishing that she'd have been crying over her brother's teasings, or father's stories, or mother's scolding. It had been chasing her around and no matter what she did, she couldn't run from it. Where are you daddy? you said you would protect me!

Her eyes widened when she saw a red door just around the corner. This is my time to escape!

The young girl ran as if her life depended on it - maybe it does, its still unclear whether or not it is a dream after all, only to bump into a young girl and falling. "Ow!"

"Alessa.. Please.. Save me.."

Suddenly a group of marionettes blocked her way, leaving her no chance to escape or save the young girl.

...

When she had woken up, she was screaming and crying. Her father immediately burst to her room, followed by her brother and mother.

"Alessa! Dear God.. what happened?" Her father looked so worried.. so tired that she almost felt bad for waking him up. She looked at him with fear, having a hard time breathing. "Okay.. Its okay, baby..try to breathe, okay? You're here with us now." Her father rubbed her back gently and slowly as to help her calm down.

"What happened, Li? Are you okay?" Her mother sat on the edge of her bed, her hands massaging her left leg to help easen up the little girl's panic. "Love, can you tell me what you dreamt of that scared you this much?" His father asked calmly and she nodded - her eyes still wide. "I.." She remembered it all too well, like it did happen to her, like she was there but she couldn't speak, as if something was keeping her. She couldn't let it out, like it was being restricted.

"I..."

"A-"

"Alessa?"

"S-"

"Spiders. A castle. Serah."

The last name - she didn't know who, came out of her mouth.

"Serah?" Her brother asked, leaning in to get closer to his sister, placing his hand on her forehead to check if her temperature was normal. "She's burning up, ma."

Their mother nodded before turning to her husband with a mean glare, the husband unaware and a tad bit scared as to why she was looking at her like that. "What?"

"Did you tell her one of your many tales again before she went to sleep?" His eyes widened and turned to look at his son instead, giving his wife the answer she needed. She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "You scared her in her sleep!"

Safe to say, she was afraid of spiders and heights after that.

After that, she had many more dreams - sometimes it was confusing, sometimes it made sense but whenever she'd try to explain it only small bits come out. The dreams never made sense and it scared her. It frequented her life so much that it resulted in her older brother to sleep in the same room as her to keep watch, and when she finally told a tale about how she once saw herself getting forced to marry one of Mundus' devil generals did her parents finally realize that something was wrong, and that they needed to seek help for the poor child's peace of mind.

"A dreamer. That's what she is." The man in front of her said, he looked Victorian, out of place. Like he didn't belong in this current era or timeline.

The Devil Sparda was his name, she heard her father call him. A supposed character from one of her father's bedtime stories for her right in front of her, alive and breathing.

And he was.. Being nice to her surprisingly.

He had two kids as well: Dante and Vergil

"You, little Alessa, is a special little thing." He smiled and Alessa couldn't help but only blink. Special. It was a word that she always heard, be it her father or mother telling her that she was their special little girl to her tutor complimenting her with her ability to pick up easily on anything. But this.. hearing that word come from The Devil Sparda, the one who changed it all and saved humanity - it truly made her believe, she was special.

“Here, a necklace. To lessen the dreams that could break your heart..” A pendant with a golden star, it was beautiful, a gift from Sparda, a necklace forged by her ancestors! So her dreams wouldn’t be as horrible.. and yet..

This time, she didn't dream about any of that. Instead, she dreamt of a house. No, it wasn't just a normal house. It was a familiar one, one she had been in before. She was sure that if she was awake then she'd recognize it!

The house was burning. And.. her father was there. With a white-haired boy... Dante.. Where's Vergil? Where's Auntie Eva?

"Psst."

"Alessa."

"Alessa!"

Bonk!

That woke the little girl up. "Ow! What the hell Hector?!"

Hector shrugged, throwing the pillow out of Alessa's reach so she couldn't use it against him. "You wouldn't wake."

She rolled her eyes and sat up. "What time is it even? You do know that I have school tomorrow, correct?" She irritably asked, rubbing her eyes to stop her sleepiness.

"Vergil's here. Dad brought him in a few hours ago."

"And Dante?"

"…”

"Your dreams, they were wrong."

"No - its not! It wasn't Vergil, it was Dante! It was Dante that I saw - “

"And its Vergil that Dad brought here, not Dante. Let it go Alessa, what matters is that Vergil is safe and here with us.” Hector cut her off and Alessa’s shoulder slumped. It couldn’t be true.. It didn’t matter to her who was safe or what, what she truly cared about is the three of them getting back alive, and they didn’t.

"How is he?" She asked, her voice soft and delicate like porcelain, as if one touch from her brother would break her and release the puddle of tears that she was holding back.

Hector shook his head and there was silence. The two of them didn’t know what to do or what to say. They were gone, Dante and Eva. And Vergil… God, how would he feel?

The footsteps grew closer and the two Vera siblings looked at each other immediately, a light bulb on the top of their heads. “Shh.” Hector signaled to Alessa as they slowly walked to their door. The door creaked a tad bit and Hector winced when hearing it.

She could not see much except Vergil’s white hair, always pushed back now reaching his shoulders damped with blood with her father’s coat covering his fragile body.

“Forgive me for what happened Vergil..” She heard her father say.

“You’ll be staying with us from now on, your father protected my family for the longest time so now its time to repay the favor.” Vergil did not reply but he did nod. What could he be thinking?

Their father opened the door for him and for a moment, he turned to the corner where the Vera siblings’ room resided in, and their eyes connected.

So much pain, so much suffering.

Alessa shuddered as Vergil looked away and entered the room, the two unaware that for a while, this would be the last time they’d see the white-haired boy.

“Vergil, its dinner time! Head on down so you could eat, your food will get cold!”

One.

“Verge, its been days since you’ve last eaten! You’re gonna get sick if you stay there! You should eat, kay? We’re waiting for you downstairs.”

Two.

“Verge, your food is outside your door, you can take it once I’m gone. Please eat, everyone’s getting worried.”

Three.

“Still no response?” Hector asked, leaning on Alessa’s bedroom door.

“Nope.”

“He’s still grieving, Aly. Maybe he’s not yet ready.”

“I know but..” She trailed off and Hector moved away to sit down on Alessa's bed and pats the other side to motion Alessa.

“What is it?” He asked and Alessa sighed. Fiddling with her fingers, she readjusted her sitting position and looked at her brother. “I.. I don’t know.. I just feel like he doesn’t like me.”

“Why?” Hector asked.

“I know it sounds silly but even before everything went down, he always seemed to avoid me.” She explained, looking down on the floor. The floorings must look really pretty from the way she stared at it.

“Have you.. ever talked to him about it?”

“I have. When me and..”

She gulped and grasped the necklace given to her by Sparda. Hector sensing the change of mood grabbed Alessa’s hand and held it.

“We were playing hide and seek.. And I found Vergil passed out. I woke him up and we spoke and I asked him why he wouldn’t play with me and.. you know.”

“And what did he say?”

“…”

He said nothing.

“He doesn’t hate you, Li.” Her older brother spoke softly, carefully placing a strand of Alessa’s hair by her ear.

“How can you be so sure?” She asked, a frown forming in her face. “I.. I just know.” He offered a comforting smile. “Just talk to him when he’s ready, Li.”

She couldn’t contain it anymore, the softness of her brother’s voice reminding her of what was lost.

“I miss them so much..” She cried out.

“I know, Aly. I know..”

“Its just so unfair.. Everything..”

“Shh…”

The first time Alessa saw Vergil out of his room was on a sunny afternoon, her classmates came to visit her, a common occurrence as the Vera Manor was practically a castle with how massive and extravagant it was. It was located in a town far from Redgrave City, the main attraction of the town. The town is welcoming to devil hunters as devils came to roam outside the gate, thus it became the main household for the Veras.

And her parents didn’t want her to go out. Ever since Vergil’s arrival, her father became strict, claiming that there might be danger outside their home. The four friends were playing by the backyard where there was a playground and there he was by the large balcony. He wasn’t particularly doing anything, only staring at Alessa and her friends. It wasn’t until her friend, Greta, pointed him out did she notice that the white-haired boy was upstairs and outside.

“Who’s that boy? He’s so handsome!” A friend of hers exclaimed.

“That’s my friend, Vergil. He’s here to stay since..” Oh.

“Since?”

“Since his family is overseas! They work in a boat.” She grinned awkwardly, hoping that they would believe her while trying to cover the sight of Vergil, he might feel uncomfortable if there are many eyes staring at him!

“Oh! Well I hope he comes down soon and play with us..” Alessa’s friend, Sunny spoke up suddenly, blush covering her cheeks. Alessa quirked her eyebrows and frowned, feeling s little irritated. Gee, what’s her issue?

She clapped her hands to bring her friends’ focus back on her, “Okay, okay, everyone shoo! We have a game to play!” And the other friends nodded, getting back to their places. But before starting, she looked back and smiled, waving at the boy, but he did nothing, instead he left causing her to frown.

The second time she saw him was when Vergil finally went down per her father’s request. She overheard her father speaking with him last night when she was supposed to steal one of Hector’s chocolates.

“Vergil!” Little Alessa smiled hopefully and waved to him but once again, he breaks her hopes when he went back inside, probably to the library.

“Its okay, Aly, he’ll come next time!”

The third time was her lucky chance. She had noticed a pattern—Vergil always came out onto the balcony around noon. This was it! She had even told her brother about her plan, ready to take action and finally speak with the boy her mind couldn’t resist thinking about. Her friends would get mad at her for ditching them again, but who cares? This was Vergil we’re talking about!

She twirled in front of the mirror, checking her reflection one last time. She was even wearing his favorite color—a blue dress that flowed as she moved.

Tiptoeing down the staircase, she kept her steps light and careful so the half-devil wouldn’t hear her approaching, her heart racing with anticipation. Her eyes glistened with happiness when she saw the balcony door was open, catching a glimpse of his white-hair that was now back up to its normal hairstyle outside. Gotcha! Her eyes sparkling with hope.

Peeking out from behind the curtains, he was sitting on the loveseat, focused in a book that she noticed that he had been reading even before what happened.. happened.

Alessa furrowed her brow slightly. Why does he stay out here? It’s hot as hell! she thought, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead. The library’s much more comfortable!

But she shook off the thought. What mattered was that Vergil was here, right now. Now’s your chance, Aly!

“You come out here often,” she said with a grin, stepping out from behind the curtains. The sound of her voice made Vergil flinch, and he looked up, surprised.

“Oh. Alessa,” he said, his voice low and steady. The sound of her name on his lips sent a strange warmth through her, and for a moment, she stood frozen, her heart skipping a beat. It had been so long since she’d heard him speak.

She hovered in the doorway, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her dress. This is what I’ve been waiting for, so why am I just standing here?

“You should join your friends. They’re waiting for you,” Vergil murmured, his eyes flicking back to the pages of his book.

“And leave you behind? Don’t be silly, Vergil,” she said, taking a small step closer.

“Whatever pleases you, Aly,” he said softly, the nickname catching her off guard. He had never called her that before. Alessa blinked in surprise, then smiled.

“Can I…?” She gestured toward the empty spot beside him on the loveseat. Vergil paused for a moment, then gave a small nod, keeping his eyes on his book.

Alessa took a deep breath and sat down next to him, smoothing her dress nervously. She glanced sideways at him, searching for the right words. “How are you?” she asked, but he only nodded in response, not looking up.

Okay… she thought, biting her lip. The silence between them grew heavier, awkwardness creeping in. She shifted in her seat, wracking her brain for something to say. Why didn’t I ask Hector for tips beforehand?

“Your friends are… interesting,” Vergil said suddenly, breaking the silence. Alessa let out a laugh, relieved that he broke the tense air between them.

“You tell me! Sunny’s been begging to meet you, you know! She wouldn’t stop pestering me to bring you out, like you’re some kind of wild animal,” she said with a playful smirk. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the faintest hint of a smile tugging at Vergil’s lips. Her heart leapt. I made him smile!

I hope he never feels sad, the young girl thought. She could recall the days when he used to steal glances, thinking she didn’t notice—but she always did. Her eyes lingered in the same way his did, with a quiet yearning he never seemed to see. He was oblivious, lost in his own hesitations, while she was left wondering how to close the distance between them.

It hurt when he wouldn’t speak or play with her, leaving a space between them that felt impossible to cross. She told herself he was shy, but doubt crept in—did he even want to talk to her? The silence gnawed at her heart, and it was this uncertainty that led her to the conversation with her older brother.

“Just speak to him, Aly,” her brother had said, as if it were simple. “There’s no harm in it.”

No harm, she thought, except maybe to her heart. Easy for him to say, they were close friends!

…

What if he didn’t want to be friends with her after all? She longed to know him beyond the stolen glances, to break the quiet tension that seemed to bind them but keep them apart all the same.

“Verge…”

“Hm?” he replied, his attention still half on his book.

“Do you… hate me?” she asked, her voice quieter this time, her hands gripping the edge of her dress.

Vergil looked up, his gaze sharp and direct for the first time. “What makes you think that?”

“Well… you never really talk to me, and you ignore me a lot, so…”

“…”

So… is that a yes? You hate me?” she asked, her voice filled with playful frustration.

I like you.

“Now you’re the one who’s being silly,” he teased, a faint smile forming as he watched her puff her cheeks in that familiar, endearing way.

“Hey!” she huffed, crossing her arms. Her cheeks flushed with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. How could he be so annoying and so soft at the same time?

“I don’t hate you, Aly,” Vergil finally said, his voice quiet but steady. He closed the book in his lap, turning his full attention to her, something he rarely allowed himself to do - and if he did, he’d shy away immediately. But not now, not anymore.

His eyes met hers, and for once, he didn’t shy away. “I never could,” he added, his words laced with an honesty that made her breath catch for a moment.

Alessa’s annoyance faded, replaced by a quiet warmth. It wasn’t exactly what she had hoped to hear, but in his own way, Vergil was telling her something more, something he couldn’t quite say yet.

“I’m going to leave once I gain enough power.” he started, his voice taking on a serious tone. Alessa’s smile faded, and she turned to face him fully, her eyes wide.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s what Uncle and I agreed on. Once he believes I’m ready, he’ll train me and teach me how to control my power, and then I’ll leave this place.

“Where will you go?” she asked.

“….”

“What about you?” he continued, shifting the conversation. “From what I’ve heard, you’re attuned to magic. Just like your ancestors.”

“Yeah, I guess I am,” she said without a care.

“So why not train? You could use that power to protect yourself, protect your loved ones.” He asked, his tone growing a bit defensive, and Alessa understood why.

But a part of believed that she could count on her family, she would always be protected so she didn’t need to put the pressure of training on herself.

“I… I want to be like my mom. Performing on stage, bringing joy to people, helping them escape their worries.”

“You don’t want to fight?”

“No,” she said firmly. “I never want to.”

“So, like Auntie… A singer?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope! I want to be an actress! I want to bring characters to life!” she said, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

Vergil’s lips curled into a small smile as Alessa, continued, “Oh, I know! Actresses usually have bodyguards to protect them. Since you’re training to get stronger, you could be my bodyguard!” he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

“I’ll be the shining star, and you’ll be my sworn protector!” Alessa’s face lit up, and she giggled.

And for the first time since the incident, Vergil Sparda was happy.

“I like the sound of that.”

[vincentscrumpet]

Kiss it better.

Kayce Dutton X Reader

Warnings: Smut with some plot 

You and Kayce had been helping out on the ranch all day. You fall off a horse he takes care of you 😏

.

.

you wake up around 4:30 in the morning and start getting ready for another long day of working on the ranch with kayce. He was still sleeping peacefully on your shared bed after you had already gotten ready. 

“Kayce” you lean down to whisper in his ear. “Wake up, we have work to do” 

He stirs but still doesn’t wake up. 

“Kayce for fucks sake!” You say stifling back a laugh

He opens his eyes and then pulls you down into the bed with him once again. You just laugh and kiss him on the cheek.

“We have to go soon, the bosses son can’t be late.” You joke

“You know damn well that that means I can in fact be late. “

“Fine we can lay here for 10 more minutes. “ You give in 

He laughs and pulls you closer to him so you’re face to face. You are silent and you gaze into each others eyes for a minute and before you know it you both drift back off to sleep. 

. 

. 

 You wake up at 7:30 to the sound of kayce’s phone buzzing. 

“God damn it Kayce we fell back to sleep!!!” You yell 

“What time is it?” He asks sitting up in the bed. 

“7:35 Kayce. “ 

“Oh shit.” 

.

You make your way to the ranch and find John and Rip watching the ranch hands try to break the new colts.

“Well, Look who decided to get his lazy ass out of bed.” John says to Kayce. 

“We were up late last night…” Kayce trails off 

John just chuckles and says “Get to work.” 

You and kayce start working on the horses trying to break them, which is going fine until you get bucked off and hit your head on the fence. 

“Goddamn it Y/n are you okay?” Kayce asks as he jumps off his horse. 

You roll over and try to stand up but fall down again. When you look up Kayce is standing over you with a concerned look in his eyes. 

“Dad I’m gonna take her to get her head checked.” Kayce sighs 

“Alright.” John says and you guys were off to the hospital. 

.

.

When you arrive at the hospital Kayce won’t let you get out of the truck yourself so he helps you out then picks you up and carries you into the waiting room. 

“I can walk you know, it’s probably just a concussion.” You complain 

“Shhh. Let me take care of you.” 

“Wowwww.” You reply

You don’t wait for long because of Kayce’s name, so the doctor stitches your head up and checks you for a concussion, then sends you on your way. 

After Kayce misses the turn to go back to the ranch you ask

“Where are we going?” 

“Home, you don’t need to be working anymore today. You have a concussion.” He says with a slightly worried look in his eye

“I am fine kayce it’s a minor concussion he said I would be completely fine in a couple of days.” You plead with him.

“It’s fine, they don’t really need our help right now anyway. It was just convenient for them.” 

“Fine,” you give up.

He just smiles as you guys pull into your drive way. He won this time, next time will be a different story. 

He helps you out of the truck and to the door.  When you make it to the house he takes you straight to bed and tells you to rest while he makes you guys some dinner. 

“Here you go baby eat something.” He says as he puts a tray down in front of you with some of your favorite foods. 

“Thank you.” you reply as you dig in.

After dinner Kayce cleans up, then comes and puts a movie on for you guys. 

“Feeling any better sweetheart?” He asks.

“Yeah much better.” you say 

Just then an idea came to you. So you turn on your side and begin to unbuckle Kayces belt. 

“Hey now, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asks with a laugh 

“Well you’ve been taking care of me all day so I figured I would return the favor...” You trail off. 

“Y/n you need to rest.” Kayce states 

“It’s fine it was just a minor concussion.. Please Kayce I’m horny!” you say putting on your best fuck me eyes. 

“Goddammit Y/n.” He groans as he gently straddles you. 

He starts kissing you, quickly moving down to your jaw and lingering there for a minute. As he enjoys the noises you make. You start unbuttoning his shirt revealing his pretty chest and all of his tattoos. 

“God you’re so hot.” you whine 

This eggs him on and he practically rips your shirt off and starts kissing his way down your body until he reaches the top of your jeans. 

“Are you sure you feel good enough to be doing this?” Kayce asks sincerely 

“Yes Kayce if anything it will make me feel better.” 

that's all it took for him, to take your pants off as well, no surprise to him you weren’t wearing panties. 

He tsks “Hmmm we’re feeling naughty today huh princess?” 

You just laugh as he begins to eat you out. He starts out slow and teasing ( he knows this pisses you off) licking everywhere but your clit, making you a whiny mess. 

“No teasing please I need you!” you groan 

He just smiles and goes back to his work. This time grazing your clit every once in a while, frustrating the shit out of you. You finally take matters into your own hands and start to grind down onto his face. 

He adds a finger into the mix which really drives you nuts. God he really knows how to get you going 

“Fucking hell Kayce, you feel so good.” your hands find their way down to his hair and start to pull. 

This makes him groan against your aching cunt. 

“You're such a good girl taking it so well.” Kayce praises

That throws you over the edge, your orgasm crashes over you as you pull his pretty blonde hair. However he doesn't stop, he keeps going until you're crying from the overstimulation. 

“Give me one more I know you can do it.” He teases 

You agree and he goes right back to it. It takes no time for it to build this time. In about thirty seconds you find yourself coming on his face for the third time that night.

You were absolutely spent, but you were by no means complaining. 

“That was so good holy shit.” you say exhausted 

Kayce comes up to kiss you. Then, pulls you into his chest and says 

“Get some rest sweetheart.” 

[thegodmother007]

My New Neighbor Chapter 3: A Bad Day...A VERY Bad Day

TRIGGER WARNING: This story will eventually contain violence, angst, threat of death, swearing, dark humor, adult themes like sex & drugs, racism, classism, sexism etc. Do not say you have not been warned

Chapter 3: A Bad Day…A VERY Bad Day

It was a Saturday morning, one of the rare few I wasn’t passed out drunk for, from the night prior. Fridays are always one of the best days for tips. People get paid on Fridays, have money to burn & I am happy to be what they use to flaunt their paycheck. It is not uncommon for me to have a couple shots throughout my shift to get patrons to spend a bit more & to see a few more dollars in the tip jar. Between hosting games like Bar Dice, flirting with the ladies seated at my bar, taking drink orders, cashing people out and handling the 1-2 Karens I see a night, I could easily pound 4-5 drinks back before my shift is ½ over. Last night though, I was spared the hussle of running up & down my bar to serve people. There was a concert in town which I assumed was most people’s Friday night plans, so not much foot traffic was seen in Cruster’s last night. 

Waking up, I could feel my liver thanking me for the break it probably needed & I laughed at the idea. I made a mental note to focus on drinking only water today as I stretched out my tired limbs. While standing out of bed, I could hear shuffling, pounding, and enormous footsteps on the other side of the wall of my apartment. I could feel the rush of adrenaline hit me as I suspected that I might have a new neighbor moving in. I rushed out of my room, wearing only my boxers, pressing my ear against the door that led into the giant apartment I was attached to. Listening in, it was clear that someone was moving into that unit. I could hear boxes of dishes being set onto tables, instructions on where to place items & wheels of dollies squeaking past my door as they carried furniture whose enormity I couldn’t even fathom. I stood there, unsure of what I needed to do, or should do. Parameters of the Integration Housing Program, dictate that Unit Partners must meet each other within 72 hours of a move in. Seeing as I have had no Unit Partner until now, I have not made efforts in meeting anyone. Hell, the only reason I spoke to Brax was because his bratty kid almost damaged my car. Besides that, I have kept to myself since moving here. Now I was expected to introduce myself? I did not anticipate this happening so soon, it has only been a couple of weeks. I ran my fingers through my morning bed head as I contemplated what I should do. I went to my kitchen’s junk drawer & fished out the contract I signed to re-read the policies surrounding the Integration Housing Program, hoping I remembered this rule, wrong. “The resident who is moved into his/her apartment first is tasked with introducing themselves, within 72-hours, to the resident who moves into the adjacent unit afterwards.” Fuck. I was required to make the first move, otherwise I risk a fee being tacked onto my monthly rent. I stuffed the paperwork away and paced my kitchen, thinking about what things I might have in common with the guy moving in. 

“I like cars, music, sports, the outdoors…what guy doesn’t like at least one of those things?” I thought to myself. I recalled my conversation with Brax & how I unintentionally made myself look meek & pathetic while talking to him. Thankfully, Brax did not mention my demeanor, but I am sure he noticed. Who wouldn’t be shaken up after almost being grabbed by a giant child? But I promised myself not to act like that again & be prepared for what possible situations I might find myself in, with the new tennent. I would not be caught off guard again if I could help it. After thinking it through a few times, my pacing finally stopped and I was able to focus on the most important thing on my mind this morning: Pancakes. I needed pancakes & bacon to start off this rare Saturday morning & I refused to allow the new Unit Partner to get in the way of being awake & having breakfast before noon. 

I took this Saturday to just relax & unwind, especially since tonight was kind of a big night for me. This Cruster’s location I was working at, finally agreed to let me play in the corner of the bar area tonight as live entertainment. I made sure I packed the lists of songs I planned on playing, I tuned my guitar & replaced a few strings just to make sure nothing goes wrong. Before I knew it, it was 7:00pm and I was in my car, on my way to my first show in Epherton. All I could hope for were generous tips and positive feedback from the location’s owner, who might let me play again in the future. As I pulled up to this Dale & Cruster’s, I eyed the integrated parking lot where Humans were at the top of these huge standing tables, much like you’d see in a cocktail lounge, where the giants placed their drinks. I was happy for them that they were comfortable enough to venture into the integrated part of the restaurant chain, but as for me, I was not. Thankfully, I worked in the Humans-only section of the restaurant, something I was not keen on changing if asked. Luckily, my manager at the last Dale & Cruster’s I worked at let this management team know that I was not cut out for integrated service, but thrived in human service where I could get closer to patrons, making the bar more money. No questions were asked after that, to my relief and no one has approached me about it. Before I entered the bar area, I noticed there were some jumbotron TV’s in the giant-area, broadcasting the spot I was supposed to play in the bar. All that was on screen though, was an empty barstool and a spotlight shining on it. I did not realize the owner of this franchise was that excited about me playing, but quickly reminded myself he was probably more excited for the money. The longer people stay to watch my performance, the more money they spend on food & drinks. Didn’t matter to me though, I was happy to play regardless of the excuse to keep having me back. 

After taking some time to set up my guitar & microphone, I introduced myself to the few customers who were watching, the rest focused on their drinks. I smiled and waved to the camera that was live broadcasting my performance to the TV’s in the giant-area. I started with my own rendition of ‘Tennessee Whiskey’, being sure to make Chris Stapleton proud with my riffing. This caught the attention of some more diners as I moved onto ‘Sweet Child O’Mine’ by Guns N’ Roses & ‘All Along the WatchTower’ by Jimi Hendrix. By the time I wrapped up my 5th or 6th song, I had almost all the diners singing along to what I was playing. A few older couples even got up to dance when I played ‘Stand by Me.’ 

Over the course of the 2 hours I played, I made about $50 in tips, which was not too shabby considering that’s about $25 an hour for doing something I loved. I finished up the evening with ‘Piano Man’ by Billy Joel, but switched the lyrics to “Guitar man” instead of “Piano man”, which got a few chuckles here and there. Unfortunately though, two diners of the place did not seem to like my change of lyrics & started booing me. I didn’t acknowledge them at first, opting to just keep going, as my years of being a bartender taught me to ignore the drunk idiots. But my performance was interrupted when an empty fries basket was tossed at the stage, hitting me in my playing hand, bringing the song to an unceremonious end. The basket was made of metal for easy dishwashing, so it hurt a bit. I stood up, grasping my hand that was now in pain, looking at the two drunkards who were causing issues. I looked to the bouncer who I have come to know as Jordan, give me a questioning look and I pointed to the two morons who interrupted my show. “Get these two out of here!” I yelled, as they cursed at me for “Changing an already perfect song.” Jordan, with the help of a few beefier servers, grabbed the two troublemakers and dragged them out. All the while, they cursed at the bouncer & the servers who were escorting them out. I could see the group they were with & the people around them were unhappy with the fact the show ended prematurely, booing the two as they were shamelessly dragged out like unruly toddlers. I sheepishly say into the microphone “Can’t win ‘em all, right?” I joke, hoping to lighten the mood “It was a pleasure playing for you tonight, I hope to be back again soon. You were an awesome crowd, thank you for the opportunity!” I got a few people applauding my performance, but the vibe was definitely killed when those two goons decided to ruin everything. As I packed my equipment up, I spoke to a few stragglers who pushed tips into my guitar case and thanked me for a great show, apologizing on behalf of the two assailants from earlier. It was nice to feel appreciated for the performance and I thanked them for listening. 

After I wrapped up my show, I got a free drink from the Manager who I chopped it up with as the closing staff did their end-of-night tasks like wiping salt & pepper shakers, cleaning tables & sweeping the floor After my drink, I left the bar about 20 min after closing time with my guitar case in-hand & satchel around my shoulder. I was standing by my car looking for the right key fob to open my car when out of nowhere, I felt a strong arm put me in a headlock, prompting me to drop my keys & guitar case. My hands immediately began to claw at the arm in an attempt to free my neck, when in the struggle, I heard a familiar voice address me. “Shouldn’t play publicly if you can’t take a little criticism, lad.” It was the skinner of the two brutes who threw the fries basket at me. I can only assume the taller, stronger one of the two was the one holding me in place. I spat through gritted teeth “It was just a song” I said with not too much breath behind it. The man who held me said back “And we were just having a bit of fun, but you decided to have us kicked out, embarrassing us in front of our crew. That was some pussy ass shit” I choked on the pressure he had on my throat, and I noticed the squeeze he added to the word “embarrassed” as it closed my throat completely for a moment. The skinner one walks around as he addresses me “Rather than having your juiced up guard dog kick us out, you ought to be man enough to do it yourself if you couldn’t take a little bit of teasing.” I had just enough slack on the guy’s arm who held me that I could breathe, but barely, making talking difficult. “Two against one isn’t handling it like a man, don’t you think?” I said as my face grew red and my struggles to breathe were overlooked. “It was 4 against 2 earlier, we’re just playing by the rules. Robbie, take him to the back” the skinny one instructs the stronger one. I start thrashing & kicking, trying to get away from these two. My throat was being pushed on, so yelling for help was not happening for me. In my fight to break free, I did not feel the earth shaking steps that approached us three, taking the skinny one by surprise. 

In the midst of struggling for freedom, I heard a scream behind us that faded away, as if the person it was emitting from was whisked away suddenly. Robbie, the man who held me in place with the head lock, looks up towards where his friend just went. “Donnie!” he yelled, letting me go, leaving me to fall to the ground. I gasped for air as I ran my hand around my neck, feeling the compressions left on my neck as blood flowed back into my veins. My vision had started going dark as they dragged me away & the rush of blood to my head, made me dizzy. I sat on the cold concrete ground trying to regain my composure when my attention was quickly caught by the commanding voice I heard overhead. I damn near shit myself hearing the voice ring out, reverberating throughout my body. “And what exactly are you two doing?” asked the 80 ft giantess whose boots stood planted firmly on both sides of us. Robbie backed up, to make eye contact with the giant woman who now held his friend’s shirt in her fist, as he dangled from the loose fabric. “None of your fucking business, giant!” Robbie boldly yelled. I slowly craned my sore neck up to see the giantess standing there, dangling Donnie from his shirt. A lump quickly formed in my throat that I tried to swallow, unsure of the giantess’ intentions. The giantess slowly crouched down, her knees hitting the pavement with a force that could have crushed any one of us had we been unlucky enough to be in the spot her knee landed. 

Without saying anything, a hand as large as my car, reaches down toward Robbie and flicks him in the chest, sending him flying about 6ft. I watched him hit the ground with a breathless thud, all the wind having been knocked out of him. I looked back up at the giantess who watches Robbie with a scowl as he struggles to catch a full breath from the impact. “I would watch your fucking mouth because next time I might not be so gentle.” The sound of Robbie trying to regain his breath was a sound that was difficult to listen to, no matter the circumstances. All I could think about was the pain of being hit in the chest by a giant & imagining myself in his shoes. Robbie finally catches a breath after a few moments & gasps for as much air as his lungs will allow. All Robbie does, as he holds himself on all fours, is look up at the giantess who is still dangling Donnie from the shirt fabric. For the entire exchange Donnie has been kicking the air, which isn’t helping him in the slightest. If I didn't know any better, the giantess was enjoying this suffering. “Put me down! We weren’t doing anything!” Donnie cries. I watched the giantess chuckle, like she was told a bad joke. I felt ice crawling up my neck while my body broke out into goosebumps. “Didn’t look like that to me. Looked like you were about to rob this guy for everything he is worth in that alley over there.” She did not need to point to where she was talking about for the two assailants to know what she was referring to. Silence filled everyone’s ears, which was all the confirmation this giantess needed. She lowers Donnie, dropping him the last 4-5ft, watching him crumple on himself once he hits the ground. “Get the fuck out of here” the woman overhead commands in a hostile tone, a tone I am glad I was not on the receiving end of. Donnie and Robbie pick themselves up from the concrete parking lot, stammering in their attempt at running the opposite direction the giantess came from. I watched the only two other Humans leave the property, which made my heart stop as I realized I was now alone with this giantess.

I sat on the ground, now facing this giantess who almost killed two guys in front of me. I started backing up to increase the space between us, not quite able to bring myself to stand as she loomed over me in a kneeling position. I wasn't sure what she wanted, why she approached us in the first place, or why she helped, but for my own safety I can't assume anything positive. I watched her watch the men leave and once they had, she could hear my shuffling to get away and her attention snapped towards me. Watching her eyes pierce through me, like a flaying knife was bad enough, but knowing this gaze comes from a giant made it all the more panic-inducing. It was clear to her right away that I was freaked out, so she offered a small smile. “No no, don't worry, you’re not next, or anything .” She said with upturned palms, trying to calm my obvious panic. “I saw those two guys come up behind you & ambush you. I recognized you from the live entertainment from tonight and figured you’d like some help. Were those the two guys who were taken out of the restaurant?” 

I could hardly hear her address me, let alone comprehend what question she just asked me. Ringing. All I could hear was ringing in my ears, like I was in shock. I just continued to stare at her, ready for when my legs decide they will work for me. She had long brownish reddish hair, easily spilling past her mid-back. Her eyes were a dark brown, almond shape, almost like a cat. Her cheekbones were pronounced and skin a light olive, her build was athletic. She was no petite giantess that was for sure. She was sturdy with thick arms and forearms. She adorned a choker necklace with a black shirt that had an unfamiliar band on it. She had multiple piercings in both ears & a wrist wrapped in a leather cuff. Her boots were combat-like, the kind you’d see at a grunge concert & jeans a light blue skinny. “Hey, you okay?” She asked as her hand descended upon me, which snapped me out of my train of thought. I scrambled to my feet, putting my hands up to stop her “Yes! Yes! I am okay!” I say trying to sound like I wasn't shaken to my core. Slowly, her hand retracts and I can feel my legs wobbling. She stares at me, unsure of the Human who she just saved or what to do next. “Um..” I say looking around for my things, picking up my satchel and guitar case that fell off my person during the fight. “S-sorry. I’ll just get out of your way, here…” I say as I pull my satchel over my head to hang off my shoulders. I grab my guitar case by the handle and turn on my heel to get as much distance between her & I as possible. I did not want anything to do with the giantess who looked too eager handling a couple human men so roughly & I was not trying to be the third. 

“Hold on for a second!” She calls out to me. I was not sure if I should stop, or keep going to my car. I did not have my keys in my hand, I spot them on the ground by my driver's side door about 30 ft away. I stop, stiff as a board and slowly turn to see her leaning in. I was immediately feeling like my personal space was being encroached on & felt the urge to run, but neglected the instinct. “What!?” I asked frustrated, feeling overwhelmed by everything in that one moment. I could feel my whole night crashing in on me at once. The shame of being booed at, the embarrassment of having a basket tossed at you, the fear of almost being mugged & then shock of being saved by some vigilante giantess who thought she was helping when really, she was fraying my nerves even more than anything else tonight. I watched her face fall into shock & offense as I snapped at her like that. I’ll be honest, I was surprised at my own behavior & audacity as well, when I let that word fall out of my mouth. I watch her angry eyes narrowing on my puny form in front of her; One I am reminded could be crushed at any moment given the slightest form of will. I swallowed the lump in my throat as she said “Nevermind. Fuck me for helping you, I guess.” 

I did not want to deal with this. Another giant who had the typical savior complex looking for a heartfelt thank you from the underling who cowers at her feet, thankful at the chance to be saved. I had enough of today already & felt my temper boiling over “Thanks for stepping but I did not ask for help. I had the situation under control.” I say dusting my clothes off, desperate for something to do with my hands. I watch her cross her arms, detailing the definition she has in them. “Yea, it really looked like you had things under control there. I could tell by the way the bigger guy kept you in a chokehold.” She raised a snarky eyebrow at her dismantling of my statement. “Someone would have stepped in, you didn't need to involve yourself.” I snapped back in my defense. She cocked her head, confused “Someone did step in. I stepped in. Do you mean a Human would have probably stepped in, instead?” I was trying to quickly think of something else to say when I was cut off “That’s what I thought. Look, no one else was around, I saw an issue & helped. Would a ‘thank you’ kill you?” That was my que to leave, but not before giving her a piece of my mind “Well thank you very much Miss Savior Complex, I am honored to have been graced by your presence & assistance.” I said with an exaggerated bow, like I was some performing monkey. I watched her face fall into one not of anger, but disappointment. Disappointed that she didn't get her ego fed, no doubt. I turned and walked away, eager to go the fuck to sleep & forget today. As I opened my car door, I could feel & hear her standing once again, looking over at me shaking her head “Fuck you, dude.” She said with balled fists, as she turned and walked away with heavy footsteps. 

I just watched her walk away until she was out of sight before I sat in my car, locked my door & drove home in silence.

Previous ||| Next

[tgmsunmontue]

Tell me what to write weekend...

My weekend starts today so hit me up... (Still have Bingo fics and my very VERY old Glee WIPS - along with the whole being a responsible adult gig).

(More info on what the letters are about and instructions on how this works under the cut - most of you know how this goes...) (Hoping to post a chapter for the Hollywood AU tonight...)

NUMBERS:

Once Upon a Time in 1996 - IceMav TimeLoop (1 chapter left)

More than Movie Magic - Hangster Hollywood AU (4 chapters left)

CURRENT LETTERS:

A, B, C, D, E, F, H, I, K... Bingo #1, Bingo #2

A) Where do I know you from? There are too many Jakes and Bradleys for Jake and Bradley to be dealing with. (Tumblr idea unspooling here...)

B) Sagas of Solitude 2/? - IceMav with side Hangster AU - angsty Nepo!Baby Bradley Bradshaw who has to keep his relationship with Mav and Ice a secret when he starts at the USNA. Featuring married Ice and Mav (but not to each other). Prologue He Remembers and Lonely Nights are both set in this verse.

C) To wake, perchance to dream - Jake wakes up in the future, gets a glimpse of what their life could be and then wakes up back right before being called back to Top Gun for the special detachment (e.g. TGM). (Tumblr post and the beginning of the fic)

D) Together or not at all... (SEQUEL) - Hangster - years after Javy/Nat get together they think their best friends (Hangman and Rooster) could maybe try dating each other. It'll either end in disaster or not.

E) Cyclone/Maverick - Cyclone is struggling to deal with being attracted to the most annoying person he's ever met. Why does he like him so much?

F) Online and Anonymous - 1/16 Hangster who are anonymous Grindr buddies for YEARS, but then decide to meet. (Tumblr post)

H) Getting to know you from the beginning - an Ice/Mav epistolary fic where Jake and Bradley matchmake them, not realising exactly who it is they've matched together.

I) Life is too short to waste time matching socks... 2/? The peach and eggplant socks as an anonymous gift as an incredibly unsubtle hint that someone would like to fuck them. (tumblr idea unspooling here...)

K) Caring, Keeping and Collecting Transformers - A Guide - Transformers cross-over for help me @yeagrave is 110% to blame for me adding this... (related to this post) (Prologue)

BINGO - Hangster Ranch AU

BINGO - IceMav Florist/Undercover Agent AU

You pick 1-3 of the above and either:

reply

Message

Send an ask (Anon is on)

with the letters/Numbers of the fic/s you wish would hurry up and get finished/posted already. (Yes, you can pick the same one three times - some of these fics are that close to getting finished that would be enough to tip them over, you also don't have to pick more than one).

Numbers indicate fics I am consciously working on updating/completing, and likely have a completion date in mind.

Letters indicate fics that are often getting completed because people ask for me to work on them through things like this. (I usually do this every weekend).

Asterisks represent fics that are most likely soon to become numbered fics.

Doing this keeps me on task and makes me accountable. It stops me from procrastinating and I really appreciate people providing their numbers.

THANK YOU!

[decaffinatedfrog]

In his eyes PT 7

Joel Miller fanfic

_____________________________________________________

Tlou

Summary: When your sister and her husband died, your left in charge of your niece. What happens when you encounter a man and another teen on a quick supply run?

PT.1 PT.2 PT.3 PT.4 PT.5 PT.6

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It had been a while since you got a good rest. Usually you're the first person to be up and getting things going but your going through a tough moment. A few months ago you injured yourself after running away from clickers at night. It confirmed your suspicion that raiders had been in this town recently but you just weren't sure how close they were to you. The aches on your body were strong enough for you to groan as you stood up, but not loud enough to wake up Sarah, who was curled next to you. You made your way outside to get some air and enjoy the pretty show of stars. Lost in your thoughts, and in the show of stars, you still managed to hear Joel approach you.

"We're leaving tomorrow morning" he quietly said standing next to you. Your heart clenched at those words you knew were coming, but it felt nice to have someone there. The silence was loud, it was hurting you. "I've got some things you can take" was all you said before both of you walked back down.

Joel was double checking his pack when you walked over to him with the pack you made him. "Here" you said as you gave them to him. "It's a bit hard for us to carry all these things, I think you guys can make better use for it" you continued to explain.

"Thank you" he quietly mumbled. He graciously took the packs from you, making room in their backpacks to carry. Sitting next to him, you felt comfortable. No tension, no urge, just calm. "What's next for you?" he asked, breaking the silence. "I honestly do not know. I've been to a town over, found a place near a lake but I'm still a bit hurt and wont be able to travel far " you explained, playing with your fingers.

Joel's' mind instantly ran to the thought of him kicking you off of Ellie and hurting you. "How about you guys?" you asked back. He then told you about his brother in Wyoming and how they planned to get there. Joel thought about asking you to join them but he didn't even know where he was going to go exactly or what was next.

"Thank you for letting me rest. I've been scouting for the last couple weeks. Found raiders and clickers, both times I got hurt. I can't express how thankful I am for you guys sparing my life" you said quietly.

Watching you crawl to Sarah was one of the most horrific things he's seen in all his years. It hit too close to home. Is that what Tommy saw as he crawled to his Sarah? The cries you let out were worse than hearing someone get hurt.

Joel stayed quiet. He wasn't sure how to respond.

You said your good nights and fell asleep..

Next morning.

You stood at the doorway with Sarah, watching Joel and Ellie getting ready to walk away. Your heart felt a little empty, but it was for the best. Missing the touch of humanity. From the corner of your eye, you could see Sarah being fidgety, but she' probably feeling the same right now.

"Ellie invited us to go with them y/n' "Sarah, I don't think that's a good idea. "

"I hate it here. I hate this life we carry. Its unfair to me, all we do is sit in one place and then leave when we get too comfortable. If you don't want to go, ill go. Everyone we love died because you couldn't keep them safe. I don't want to be the next one to die because of you!" you gasped in horror of the words that came out of her mouth. Where did all of these words full of hatred come from? Your throat started to burn but you wouldn't let the tears fall. Joel looked away but Ellie watched it all unfold in front of her.

"don't you dare mention them to me. I have done nothing but kept you safe for all these years. Do you need me to remind you of what happened a couple days ago? You couldn't even run. You're not going and that's final!" you yelled back "You're not my mom. You don't get to make these choices for me anymore. How are you going to keep me alive with your bad knee and back? that's right, you wont. " said Sarah as she ran to get her stuff. You looked at Joel and Ellie.

Joel was scolding Ellie for inviting Sarah with them, but in a second Sarah was already next to them. She looked back at you with anger in her eyes but you didn't know what to do. "I won't be here if you come back, Sarah" you yelled to her as she walked away. It was all you could say. You were too hurt to say anything else.

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A/N Hi everyone, thank you for reading! New chapter will be up 05-12-2023

[caluski]

happy 1 year anniversary to one of the best summer albums out there that ive ever known. thank you temples for creating exotico

to properly celebrate such a joyful occasion, i have decided to rank songs of the album from my least to most favorite with a tiny bit of absolutely useless commentary. lets get to it

16. Meet Your Maker.

i dont get this song. sorry!!! no fucking idea where they were going with the instrumental... its super strange. the ONLY skip on the album for me.

15. Giallo

it's okay honestly. well its fine, but nothing more than that for me. I dont exactly dislike it, chorus is just kind of strange. but in general it's not bad! just not something i feel anything in particular for.

14. Time is a Light

they tried something else with this one, but i am not sure w h a t were they going for exactly. chorus feels like an echo of gamma rays, but the rest is... well. but i do really like gamma rays so its not that bad. feels a little too long tho. what's up with the last minute feeling so... um, can this be over already?

13. Oval Stones

we're getting to the good ones!!!!! oval stones is really pleasant. i like how chill it is compared to most of the album.

12. Slow Days

again the chill one. actually i find it weird that its not the closer of the album. it would be a perfect closer! listening to it really slows you down (not in a bad way) so its strange to have oval stones + slow days followed by crystal hall. im not crazy about albums doing that, kind of throwing you off the rhythm... my perfect album order would be sorted in the way that wakes you up, and then calms you down by the end.

11. Head in the Clouds

okay, i do understand why it's after crystal hall - obvious interpolation going on there, down to the very same lyrics ("can you feel it coming down?") and i do LOVE preludes, interludes, whatever, transition tracks in albums, that is GREAT. but my issue is once again with the slow, slow, fast, slow pace again. if not slow days, i think that would also be the perfect closer.

10. Inner Space

i don't really have anything to say about this one. its good! i like it a lot! but for some reason, despite being like, in a bit of a calmer tempo, it makes me a little bit anxious. not in a bad way exactly, its just a good song for when im troubled about something.

9. Movements of Time

THIS SHOULDVE BEEN THE OPENING TRACK!!!!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!!!!!!!! WHAT!!!!!! its literally the PERFECT opening track for this album. its SETS UP the mood. HOW IS IT A CLOSER???? and i love the ... organ sound that they have going on in this one?? its really cool.

8. Crystal Hall

oh ohhhhh this is where it starts getting really hard to rank them.... Crystal hall is really good but also really short!!! why is it so short? under 3 minutes???

7. Gamma Rays

yeah i understand why this is the most popular. i mean i dont think its the best, but yeahhhhh.... its so good. literally perfect for "soaking up the rays"!!!!

6. Cicada

a big fan of so much reverb in this one. it especially makes the album so... summer specific, reverb is so summery! maybe because of how it makes everything sound like a song played on an open air music festival.

5. Liquid Air

if it couldn't be movements of time, i understand why liquid air made it as the opener. theres the anxious vibe going on again - which i do really like, in general im enjoying the theme of this album although im not really the lyrics kind of guy. and this one, its strange because its almost 6 minutes long, but it doesnt feel too long. or repetitive.

4. Fading Actor

ouuughhhhh this one is one of my absolute faves. it actually grew on me SO much, because at first i didnt pay any attention to it. but once i got it, it hit me sooooo hard, it remained on repeat for like MONTHS after summer ended.

3/2. Exotico + Sultry Air

i cannot i CANNOT judge them separately. in my heart they come together as one. and yet, they are two different tracks, which makes me love them even more. im really obsessed with the way it is composed, just absolutely amazing. the BRIDGE is especially the reason why i adore it so much. its SO good. and then theres sultry air!!!!! its the PERFECT postlude, like literally i think my favorite postlude in any album ever. like end credits to a movie. no notes!!!!!!

1. Afterlife

yeahhhhhhhhhh the only reason i even gave the album i listen in the first place. love at first sight!!!!!!!!! absolutely stunning. love the tension building up followed by the amazing bass... and okay i do have issues with the order of this album, but i do get why they put it by the end - its a truly perfect payoff even for the weaker parts of the album. best listened to on full volume... once had the joy of listening to it on a real good quality professional speaker set and my god. its like its MEANT to be blasted from the roof of a building. god i hate the fact that its produced by sean ono lennon. it had no right to be this fucking good.

[fandomandangstlover]

oh right ah've never spoken about this here

me hav... idea for mirrored actions au. am unsure if this will be canon but it's a neat idea & ah like it.

ah'll be putting them in reblogs btw because god i need to separate these because...it is. A Lot.

[×]

Mario has these...weird dreams after the lawsuit arc. they're rare, but they feel so real enough that he remembers them quite vividly.

they're of the mirror room in the castle. 4&3 are sitting against it, normally fast asleep & almost brain dead-looking, & their reflection...are that of their Old Designs, also asleep.

Mario, when first having these strange dreams, just...left the room alone. he left the room & just, went along his dream. sometimes he messes around in the room, trying to wake the Current Designs at the time of the SMGs but never seeming to be able to.

it was only when Mario started to hit & try to break the mirror was when he realized that the SMGs' reflection...was breathing, unlike their current selves. they're breathing & when Mario slammed himself against the Mirror he swears he saw the reflections stirr.

so after that, whenever he gets this. strange dreams again. he makes it his goal to wake the living Reflections of his Friend (he only tried to wake up 4's Reflection, he isn't sure of 3 just yet). & his dedication paid off.

the Old Design of 4 wakes. it took about three dreams to do so, but he woke. he's confused & disoriented & has no idea where he is but he's...awake. he turns & sees his current design...on the other side of the mirror. he has his back against it & he's. not him. that's his current design— why isn't he him? he remembers blacking out in the courtroom & briefly remembers everything after it but... he can't make out the details.

who was he?

he turns to his side & sees 3's Old Design, sitting on the same side as him. & he could see 3's Current Design on the other side of the mirror, too. he's asleep, too...like how OG!4 (new thing to call Old Design 4) was..

and— Mario? Mario's on the another side of the mirror— & he seems surprised? what was happening? why was he...? why?

OG!4 goes to wake OG!3 & Mario wakes up.

this was...when this kind of Dreams starts to become different.

when Mario has this Dream again, he slammed himself against the Mirror & OG!4&3 immediately woke up. Mario didn't think this would happen, so he- panicked a little.

OG!4 got up from his spot & went into the same direction of where Mario was, which was in the middle. he passed his hand against the Mirror & looked at the Avatar, his eyes wide as he tries his best to comprehend what's happening. OG!3 tries to call out, but he found that he couldn't hear himself. OG!4 seems to have heard him, though.

Mario slammed himself against the Mirror again & OG!4 flinched away, Mario is trying to reach for the OGs as though he felt compelled to get them out.

he's looking & they're staring, their thoughts confused & honestly it feels like they just woke up from a long long nap.

OG!4 passed his hand against the Mirror & Mario passed his hand against his, the glass being the only thing separating them. & then it didn't.

Mario reached through the Mirror & pulled OG!4 out. & Mario woke up.

[stevensaus]

How My Colonoscopy Led To An Existential Crisis

So I had a colonoscopy with anesthesia yesterday, and my restless legs managed to generate a bit of an existential crisis. I've spoken before about my experience with restless legs syndrome -- and how I am one of the "lucky" 10% who get to experience it as pain. That was a concern of mine when I was checking in for the colonoscopy; because the medications I take for it effect the nervous system, I did not want to accidentally depress {1} prior to any kind of anesthesia. In addition, a front had moved in overnight, so I was pretty twitchy and in a non-trivial amount of discomfort; it had gotten up to a six or so on the drive over. The anesthesiologist was very nice as I explained my concern, and said it shouldn't be an issue. As they put the anesthetic in the IV, I explained to the anesthesiologist that I was asking so many questions in order to get the details right if I wrote about it later, and then I woke up in recovery. That part went really well (and my results seem good as well). But it was less simple for those doing the procedure. They told me afterward that almost immediately after I went under, I began jerking and moving my legs and arms {2}. They were able to complete the procedure, but just barely, given how much I was moving. While completely unconscious. This is not the first time that my brain and body have done things without my conscious knowledge. Last weekend, when my amour and I were watching TV at night -- I was extremely tired and also in a large amount of pain -- I woke up standing in front of the refrigerator with my amour asking if I was okay, and what I was doing. Earlier this year, I had an extremely bad incident where I woke up upstairs in my son's room (he wasn't home at the time) and had eaten some very expired candy he had up there {3}. It usually only happens when I'm so tired (or medicated) that I cannot help but fall asleep, but the pain is great enough that it keeps me from... well, completely falling asleep. It is -- to put it mildly -- fucking strange to wake up somewhere different when you don't remember falling asleep. We all experience times of decreased consciousness -- the times you drive on "automatic" and don't remember driving home arguably count -- but it is usually bracketed by a conscious intent to go somewhere or do something, and then its completion. {4} One common assumption is not that we're truly not conscious, but that we just don't bother remembering it. To have a sudden scene change like I've had is wildly disorienting. Until yesterday, I could tell myself that I wasn't unconscious -- I just didn't remember. Yesterday, I learned that is not true. Parts of my brain -- and my body -- were reacting to stimuli while I was completely unconscious {5} under anesthetic, lending credence to the idea that my other wanderings and other behaviors were also while my consciousness was offline. Making the idea that things like "driving on automatic" really are entirely without the benefit of our consciousness getting involved all the more plausible. There are studies that indicate our consciousness -- at least sometimes -- gets informed of what we decide to do after we start to do it {6}, but actually experiencing it is something else. Your consciousness -- the you part of you -- isn't the only entity driving that meat mech you're in. {1} The clinical sense of decreased function, not the emotion of "depressed." {2} Thanks to "augmentation," I now experience it in not just my ankles, but sometimes in my wrists as well. {3} I seem to seek out sugar and sweets -- to the extent that I can sometimes tell if the pain is going to be bad because I notice myself craving sweets up to a half hour before I register the pain. The best I can figure is that sweets are a mild analgesic for humans, and it's also a quick dopamine hit, and dopamine seems to be involved in RLS. {4} Oddly, even when I was drinking -- and at times I drank a lot -- I didn't have blackout experiences, so I can't compare the two. {5} While ketamine and versed cause sedation and "anterograde amnesia," not unconsciousness, the propofol they used does create unconsciousness. {6} Along with rebuttals that move the goalposts of where "conscious" is. Featured Image by aytuguluturk from Pixabay Read the full article

[purplesurveys]

1733

1 - When you wake up, do you get up straight away or do you lie around in bed for a while? Unless I overslept and am extremely late to something, I'm horrible at waking up. I'm definitely the type to take my time before getting up.

2 - Who was the last person you video-called with? Have you done this more often since COVID hit? I don't usually do video calls with anyone but the last people I did one with were Angela and Reena. COVID didn't affect my video-calling habits whatsoever – I hated it before the pandemic, during, and still do.

3 - How many times a week do you go out for food or drink? On average? Less than one. I only do so a few times a month because I try to watch how much I spend.

4 - Do you prefer getting takeaway or actually sitting in a restaurant and eating your meal there? I like being in restaurants. Delivery is fine too but it will sometimes affects the quality of the food once it gets to me – like a burger arriving smushed or rice already being cold. It's convenient but has its downsides.

5 - Where’s your favourite place to get takeaway coffee (or whatever your drink of choice is)? I like Starbucks or any place with a Spanish latte.

6 - Do you tend to keep your phone on silent, vibrate or loud? Silent. I have work calls all day long and I know how irritating it gets when someone's phone goes off during these meetings, so I keep my own quiet.

7 - If you have pets, when was the last time one of them annoyed you? What happened? Cooper caught a plastic bag earlier and ran away/went crazy with it. Happened this morning. Normally I would've chased him and thought of a trick to make him drop whatever's in his mouth, but I was already late for work so I just let him have his fun. I think my sister ultimately discarded the at-that-point-destroyed plastic once Cooper got bored from it.

8 - When was the last time you went into a bookshop? July – I had to pick up a book I pre-ordered.

9 - What was the last thing you ordered off Amazon? I have never even been on Amazon.

10 - When was the last time you took a dog out for a walk? Is this your own dog or did you borrow someone else’s? Couple of weeks ago. I only ever walk my own dogs.

11 - What jewellery do you have on at the moment? A necklace.

12 - Do you have any products in your hair right now? What are they? Nopes.

13 - Have you ever used a VPN to access foreign content online? No. I know I'm probably just being uneducated hahaha but the concept of a VPN just seems so sketchy to me. Like I feel like the moment I use one, the police will be at my ass. I've never used one before and not sure if I ever will.

14 - Who was the last artist you listened to? Is this someone you’re a fan of? That would be RM, and yes I'm a massive fan.

15 - What was the last thing you had to drink? Coffee.

16 - When was the last time you cooked something for the first time? Did it work out the way it was supposed to? I don't cook.

17 - Black cats are considered to be bad luck - is this a superstition that you’ve ever believed in? No. I don't believe in superstition.

18 - Would you ever eat blue cheese or do you find the idea of eating mould to be pretty repulsive? It's fine, but only in moderation. I also would not say it's my favorite.

19 - Do you visit the dentist every six months like you should? I visit every one or two months because braces.

20 - How old were you when you first used the internet? Was it dial-up or did you have access to proper broadband? We had initial access to the internet starting when I was 3, which was around the time my dad started to work abroad and email was the best way for my parents to regularly correspond. I didn't access the internet, though – there was not much a kid my age could do on the computer at the time.

I started using the interet regularly by the time I was 10, when my dad had a broadband set-up installed at home. The way it started wasn't even technically 'wi-fi' yet – we had to connect our laptop directly to the router if we wanted internet, so only one person could connect at a time. I don't remember when it changed but anyway, eventually, we started to get to enjoy wireless the same way we do now.

21 - Are you old enough to remember using floppy discs? I definitely am, but I never used one. I'm old enough to merely remember the concept.

22 - When was the last time you purchased an actual DVD or CD? I pre-ordered Layover last month.

23 - Do you shave? Which body parts and how often? Underarms and legs – once a week for both. I work from home and don't always schedule anything out, so there's no point in making it a daily routine. It was definitely different pre-pandemic though as I'd shave everyday.

24 - What’s your favourite season, and what are some of your favourite things about that season? I don't experience the four seasons so I've never had a favorite.

25 - When was the last time you burned yourself? I've had hot water droplets spill on me recently while making coffee, but I don't think I've ever burned myself any more badly than that.

26 - Have you ever been the victim of a theft or robbery? What was stolen? Did the police ever catch the person who did it? Never been.

27 - What was the last TV show you discovered that you really liked? What was it that got you to watch it in the first place? That would be DP! It's a K-drama that tackles bullying among many other issues within the country's mandatory military enlistment. I honestly first heard of it from Namjoon who had recommended it, but I found the plot in itself compelling so I didn't hesitate in starting.

28 - Have you seen any of the live-action Disney remakes? Which one is your favourite? What about your least favourite? I am not a fan of the concept at all. Maybe I'm jaded? maybe it's because I wasn't really raised on Disney as a kid? but the live-action thing never excited me and the hype has always felt...a tad bit inauthentic, like they're doing these remakes for the sole purpose of getting more money out of me. That said, I've never seen any of the remakes and don't really have plans to.

29 - Do you have any exciting plans for tomorrow? If not, how are you planning to spend your day? All I want to do is spend the entire day at home.

30 - Would you ever keep a working dog as a pet? Do you think it’s fair to keep dogs like huskies in flats when it’s so different to their natural environments? If I had a serious, valid need for one, I don't see why I wouldn't. As for the second question, I think adjusting your environment and providing stimulation for your dogs do go a long way. Huskies are very common in the Philippines – where our climate is humid and warm all-year long – but owners adjust by having them in air-conditioned rooms all day, making sure their water is iced, etc. Same nature of adjustments go for other breeds. It's only fair when you do your job as a pet owner.

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

267 of 2023

1 - Aside from the necessities (eating, breathing etc.) what is something you do every single day, without fail?

Taking my medication. I’ve never skipped a single dose of it.

2 - Do you use cash or card the most? Do you find yourself using card or contactless methods more since COVID hit?

Card has been a preferred method here for along time already, although not carrying some cash with you at all times was illegal at some point.

3 - Is there anything you enjoy that’s considered childish for your age? What is it?

Well, maybe reading young adult books.

4 - Who’s your favourite voice actor? What’s the best thing they’ve been in?

I don’t know and I don’t care.

5 - How many times a day do you use the bathroom?

Do you really think anyone counts that?

6 - Do you need caffeine to wake up in the morning? What’s your drink of choice?

I used to, but I stopped. Now the only caffeinated drink for me is Coca Cola.

7 - Are you more of an introvert or an extrovert? If you’re an introvert, do you feel like you live in a world built for extroverts?

I’m an ambivert and I’m feeling good wherever I am, typically.

8 - What do you do with old clothes you no longer want or need?

I try selling them, if they’re in good condition.

9 - How old were you when you got your first pet (not a family pet, but one that you were solely responsible for)?

I got Victoria when I was 21.

10 - What is something popular or fashionable that you consider to be a real waste of money?

Almost everything lol. Especially Apple products.

11 - Do you donate to charity?

No, I don’t. I want to know where exactly my money goes.

12 - Do you live somewhere with lots of livestock or wild animals?

I live in the centre of the main city in my province.

13 - Would you rather live somewhere rural or urban?

Suburbs would be perfect. Close to the city, and close to the nature. Although I wouldn’t mind living somewhere by the busy road so I can hear the traffic at night.

14 - Is there anything (a hobby, for example) that’s guaranteed to always make you feel better when you’ve had a bad day?

Yeah, radio signals.

15 - If you’re struggling with your mental health, who are you most likely to open up to, or would you bottle it up instead?

I keep things to myself. On rare occasion, I talk with my husband about it.

16 - Do you get your five portions of fruits and veggies everyday?

Five? What pseudoscientific bs is that. I eat rarely, but 99% of it is veggies.

17 - What room of your house do you spend the most time in? Is this through choice or necessity?

Living room. Close to the bathroom and to the kitchen. I actually spend most time outdoors, though.

18 - If you have pets, do you snuggle with them when you’re having a bad time? Does it make you feel better?

Yeah, they come for snuggles by themselves. Especially Victoria is sensitive to our moods and comes to cheer us up.

19 - Would you ever sign up to be in the military? What if there was enforced conscription, would you go or would you object?

Well, nobody would take the person with epilepsy, no matter how much they want. I wanted, but I can’t.

20 - Would you ever want to go to any kind of fitness bootcamp, or does that sound like utter hell to you?

First I need to know what a fitness bootcamp is.

21 - What’s the worst job you’ve ever had? What was it that made it so bad?

I worked as a cleaning guy in the local library while doing my degree at the sam time. It wasn’t even the job itself that was bad. It was the boss.

22 - If you could design your own garden, what would you have in it? Do you think that dream is ever going to be achievable for you?

I’d love to have veggies and flowers and fruits.

23 - Do you believe there’s life on other planets? If so, do you think it’s anything like humanity?

Most likely, the universe is just too big. I have no idea how it’s like, and I don’t care much.

24 - Does it take you a long time to fall asleep at night? What do you if you’re really struggling to get to sleep?

Not anymore since antidepressants kicked in. I keep trying.

25 - if you drive, how many times a week do you have to fill up your car with fuel? If you don’t drive, how much do you spend a week on travel/transport?

I have De Lijn services for free and NMBS for 50%, so not much, even though I travel a lot almost every day.

26 - What did you get the last time you went out for fast food?

I don’t eat it.

27 - Do you tend to snack when you’re watching TV or sitting at the computer? What’s your favourite thing to snack on?

No, I don’t.

28 - When was the last time you went to a zoo or wildlife park type place?

Thankfully very long ago.

29 - Do you think it’s cruel when people keep exotic animals as pets? Or do you think it’s okay as long as they have the space, time and money to dedicate to them?

I believe caring for anumals s good and animal abuse is wrong, period.

30 - If you eat meat, is there a particular animal you’d never eat? If you don’t eat meat, what’s the reason for it?

I don’t like the taste and the structure of meat.