#would love to dissect their brains one day

[viminoo]

big soft tiddies and a smile to die for :)

[genshin-projection]

i don't think i can be normal about Sunday guys

[babycharmander]

(BOOK OF BILL SPOILERS)

I just finished reading The Book of Bill and I am kindof losing my mind over some of this stuff.

I had wondered if Alex Hirsch might make Bill sympathetic in some way and oh boy I was not expecting him to do it so successfully (and without cheapening Bill's character).

So, we learn that Bill was born into a 2D world... as a mutant who can see into the third dimension. He claims he was absolutely loved by all, but when talking about his powers, he mentions under Pyrokinesis:

"Cipher, Cipher, he's insane / Starting fires with his brain." The kids in grade school could be so cruel. But where are they now, huh? WHERE ARE THEY NOW?

So probably not quite as liked as he was letting on. To add to that, there's the silly straw page, which looks like silly nonsense until you decipher some of the codes:

"EYE DOCTOR OF A DIFFERENT KIND / WHO WANTS TO MAKE HIS PATIENTS BLIND" "THE DOCTOR SAYS / THREE SIPS A DAY / WILL MAKE THE VISIONS / GO AWAY"

I wasn't sure what this meant until I saw someone point out... he was seeing a third dimension that no one else could see. His parents probably took him to the eye doctor to try to "fix" him. Which, speaking of his eye doctor, the coded message in the section about human eyeballs says something interesting:

"MY OPTOMETRIST NEVER SAW IT COMING"

It could be a joke given beforehand he's talking about dissecting a human eye, but given the previous hints of medical abuse, I wouldn't put it past him that he tried to get revenge on his eye doctor.

Oh yeah and the whole thing about him setting his entire dimension on fire? Yeah it turns out it was entirely a mistake (he just wanted everyone to understand the third dimension he was seeing so they could be free of only two dimensions), he was so traumatized by it he blacks out when trying to recall it. He deeply, deeply regrets it, and...

"What? Your ENTIRE home dimension? destroyed? How? By what?" Bill looked distant, more distant than I'd ever seen him. "By a monster."

He sees himself as a monster.

And yet, he's not some innocent, misunderstood being. He still revels in causing pain and chaos. He's terrible in general, but becomes incredibly abusive toward Ford.

"YOU'RE MY PROPERTY. DON'T FORGET IT. The hillbilly abandoned you, your father won't want you returning without millions, you have no friends, and if you died out here in the snow, who would even miss you?"

Which... speaking of him and Ford...

Yes, yes, I know people ship them. But like, whether you see their relationship as romantic or platonic (I see it as the latter), there's some interesting parallels to be made here.

Both Bill and Ford are mutants who were mocked for their being different. (Bill was not physically a mutant, as far as we know, but more in the sense of him having vision stronger than that of everyone else in his dimension, and also having special powers. And he does describe himself as a mutant.) Both became social outcasts, separated from their families but still haunted by them (Ford seeing commercials of Stan on TV and running across old photos of him and his brother, Bill being haunted by his family in some form). Neither could return home for one reason or another. Both more powerful than their peers (Ford intellectually, Bill in terms of actual powers). Both of them isolated and alone. (Yes, Bill does have the Henchmaniacs, but they seem like shallow friends, and only really seem to follow him out of a desire to have a place to party.)

Ford was not aware of most of this, aside from knowing that Bill could not go home because his dimension was destroyed. But Bill absolutely saw himself in Ford. There was no other person he tried to use whom he felt a stronger connection to.

And he actually seems to care about Ford--he actually gave him a birthday present, and when Ford didn't like it, he decided to get drunk and party with him instead to make up for it.

And then when Ford realizes what Bill's plan actually is and refuses to go along with it, and fights back no matter what Bill does, Bill completely breaks down.

After living for trillions of years, he met someone who was like him, and that person rejected him.

He goes berserk, wreaking havoc, being caught by the dimensional authority that he's been taunting for most of his life.

And then after dying and being cast out of hell for being too annoying, he winds up faced with the Axolotl, who sends him to therapy, where he continues to break down further, sending out the book in a desperate attempt to find someone, anyone who will help him break loose and wreak havoc once again.

"You have no friends, and if you died ... who would even miss you?"

I don't know, Bill. Who would even miss you?

In short,

[ID: The front and back of one of Bill's Valentines cards. On the front is a black void with Bill Cipher lying down without his hat, gazing blankly upwards, with the text "I DON'T WANT TO DIE ALONE" above him. On the back is a simple white "TO/FROM" in red, with a red outline illustration of Bill spontaneously growing a mouth and eating a realistic, bloody heart. /end ID]

[cakelitter]

Eternally Loved

Yandere/Corrupt! Leon x Fem! Reader

warnings: dead dove do not eat, daddy kink, oral (f receive), p in v

summary: He needs to protect you, to keep you his. You’re too brittle for anyone else, they wouldn’t know what to do with you. Only he deserves you, he is the only one that knows how to handle you. Yes, yes, only him.

words: 3.3k

a/n: this idea has been in my head for a while now and I had to get it out of my system. Enjoy!! <33

Leon never thought he’d end up like this… actually he did. Orphan since the ripe age of seven, spent the rest of his upbringing in the shitty foster care system, started police academy which surprisingly wasn’t that bad compared to some situations he was in. And just when he thought things are starting to look up for him after he graduated, he finds himself in the virus outbreak in Raccoon City.

Out of the many cities and towns he could’ve chosen to work in, he chose Raccoon city. Not even assigned or forced; for once in his life, he had the privilege of choosing what to do, and look what that got him.

After barely making it out alive, he goes back to what’s familiar. Getting forced to do shit he never signed up for. Working as an agent for the government, the right hand of the president of the United States of America, what a fucking honor.

It’s like he’s allergic to happiness, sentenced to a life of misery since the day he was dragged into this world. He’s in his late thirties now, living alone, eating alone, drinking alone, sleeping, crying, smiling, fighting, all alone.

Sherry visits from time to time, and that’s the only occasion where he feels like he’s not fighting the urge to jump off a cliff. It’s a once-a-year sort of occasion though, but that’s good enough for him. Christmas for Leon is the day that Sherry visits, the only thing he looks forwards to each year.

Claire visits too, but mostly to make sure he isn’t dead, taking his medication and going to therapy. He swears he does, even though he doesn’t. All the therapists he tried always look at him, overwhelmed on what to tackle first. Taking him apart and dissecting his brain like he’s some sort of lab rat.

He knew that not getting help was going to catch up to him someday. Although he expected it to backfire on him, like a bullet to the head or giving up on fighting whatever bioweapon he’s facing, letting it end his suffering before he does it himself. Instead, you’re now passed out in the backseat of his car.

He was having a bad day, well, every day is a bad day when you’re Leon Kennedy. Driving slowly back to his place, and you just so happened to be walking out of your college campus. Backpack on your back, your eyes glued to your phone, you’re not even paying attention to your surroundings.

How irresponsible.

You’re a sweet thing, really. So young and full of life, enough to brighten up his dark and dingy days, he can sense it. You look loved, pampered and cared for, something he lacked. He’s sure that you have enough love inside of you to share it with him, life hasn’t robbed you of your youthful smile and bright eyes. How funny would it be if he just… took you.

Apparently to him it was fucking hilarious cause, next thing you know he parked his car and is making his way to you. Kidnapping you was fairly easy; you were already walking on an empty street when he made up his mind to borrow you for a bit. You fought back, trying to free yourself from is hold. A for effort, but it wasn’t enough for him to let you go.

A few empty threats while putting you in the back of his car were enough to shut you up, so fucking gullible. Cried your heart out as he drove, honestly you were kind of an ugly crier, plus you were making him feel bad so it’s starting to get on his nerves.

Eventually though, you pass out from hyperventilating. Very dramatic, like he could’ve done worse. He has a pistol attached to his hip at all time and didn’t even pull it out once to scare you. Fine he was kidnapping you, but gently, so can’t you be grateful for that?

That was five months ago, and since then you’ve gotten better. At first, you’d repulse every time he came closer to you, tears rapidly brimming in your eyes, pleading whispers asking him not to hurt you. He wasn’t going to in the first place, he wanted someone to soothe the aching loneliness in his heart, that’s why you’re here.

There is a difference between a pathetic unloved loser, and a psychopath. He never hurt you, not even once, ever since that fateful day when he laid his eyes on you.

He did have to scare you a few times though, but again all empty threats; like he’s going to hurt your family if you think about screaming or even considering escaping. Shit he sees in movies.

Again, first time kidnapping someone, he’s a little nervous. Funnily enough, he didn’t even know your name back then, let alone your parents’ name. But it got the job done of keeping you in line.

Now he does know your name, it’s pretty just like you, it suits you. But he doesn’t use it, calling you pet names is better, helps him live the fucked-up fantasy of the two of you being in love. His sweet baby, always waiting for him back home.

Truthfully, he treats you fairly well for someone who kidnapped you. Asking what you want to eat, making effort to learn your interests and hobbies, even buying you small gifts that you might like from time to time.

And after a few weeks, you started accepting him. Asking him questions about himself, snuggling up next to him while watching a movie, and begging him not to leave for work. As much as he appreciates the fact that you actually care for him now, he’s aware that this is all a trauma response. Stockholm syndrome is a blessing in this particular situation; as long as a part of you has accepted him and loved him, is all he’s asking for.  

You’re a curious little thing, questioning him about his past, present and future, what’s his job and why he sometimes disappears for days. He should get pissed, and put you in your place, but you’re too cute to cry so he answers vaguely. Besides, it’s nice to have someone be interested in learning about you, feels like ages since he experienced that.

All you know about him is his name, just his first name, that he saves the world in order to protect you, and that he would never hurt you; and that’s exactly all he wants you to know. You feel like a chance for him to start from scratch, a breath of fresh air, totally and utterly clueless on what kind of shit he sees and has seen outside the walls of his apartment.

He has noticed however, how you seem to get dumber and dumber by the day. Well, no shit you’ve been spending majority of the past five months alone staring at the different walls facing you. Your past life becoming noting more than just a distant memory, fading away with each second.

Now all of your focus and knowledge is about Leon, Leon, Leon, Leon. The man you once feared becoming the axis of your world, he can even consider himself your hero with the way you’re treating him.

The name Leon however is a name you’re not allowed to say out loud, just like he uses pet names to address you, you are expected to do the same. Leon is dead now, Leon is the man that kidnapped you. Daddy however, keeps you safe from this scary world.

You’re not allowed to go outside because people will try to hurt you, so you should always be with daddy. You’re not allowed to have your family come over, because they will try to take you away from daddy. You’re not allowed to dwell on the life you once lived, because that makes daddy upset, you would never want to make daddy upset right?

Daddy always knows best, so you should always listen to him. Is the foundation he used to build his castle, no, empire in that pretty head of yours.

Truth be told, Leon has been obsessing over you as well. Kidnapping you at first was just to fill the gaping hole in his heart. But now if you get even a tiny papercut, he goes crazy.

Managed to slither into his tattered heart and grew your ivy all over it. His life has been better since you were yanked into it.

“Thank you, daddy.”

“Please daddy.”

“Love you, Daddy.”

Fuck, he can hear your voice when you’re not even there.

The eerie quietness of his apartment is now gone, replaced with the sound of the TV in the living room, with you sitting on the couch in his shirt. His bed is no longer cold and empty, your body is there to warm it up, your scent making it feel more comforting.

He needs to protect you, to keep you his. You’re too brittle for anyone else, they wouldn’t know what to do with you. Only he deserves you, he is the only one that knows how to handle you. Yes, yes, only him.

You begged him to let you out just once, promising you’d never try to run away. He honestly forgot that was something he needed to worry about. You’d never run away, even if you wanted to. Fucked you up so bad, your entire sense of self, morality, and survival instincts in shambles.

Was going to say no, and remind you of the rules. But you asked so politely and have been such a good girl lately. Surely you deserve a reward other than his cock.

And so, he takes you to the park, your eyes looking around like you have never seen trees before. Everything is going fine, you’re behaving, and he’s relaxing. Deciding to buy the two of you ice cream, he leaves you for not more than two minutes to buy it at the nearby stand.

That’s when a guy that seems about your age, starts talking to you. Discomfort and fear are written all over your face.

“Rule number 17, no talking to anyone besides daddy.”  Is what he can assume you mind keeps repeating, your lips are sealed, biting on them, not letting a word leave your mouth and praying that he leaves you alone.

As soon as you spot Leon looking over at you, he can see you start to tremble in fear.

That person is trying to take you away from him, everyone tries to take things he loves away from him. No no, not you, anything but you. He’s definitely going to hurt you, what if he has a knife? What if he recognizes you from the missing person’s report your family posted all over town.  

Such an idiotic move by the way, if anyone did find you, they would never give you up.

The day didn’t end the way he hoped, he dragged you back home after shooing away the guy that was talking to you, his fists clenched so hard, they’re almost cramping. Blinded by rage, he threw a whole fit once you made it back home. Throwing items across the room, yelling and screaming at you; he couldn’t even recognize himself at this point.

It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t break any of the rules, and he knows that. This is simply his paranoia acting up, it’s his issues acting up.

You start having a panic attack, hyperventilating and crying. Seeing you like this causes a switch to flip in his head. And so, he approaches you slowly, wrapping you in his arms, one of his hands rubbing your back gently and planting soft kisses on the crown of your head.

“I’m sorry, baby. Daddy’s here, daddy would never hurt you.”  Whispering into your hair. “You know I love you right? My sweet angel, always such a good girl f’me”

Breathing starts to become more regular, and you stop sobbing, hugging him back and seeking comfort from the same person that you should hate with a burning passion. Taking in a deep breath, he holds you, patting your hair and humming a tune.

“Did I scare you, baby?” he asks after a little while. “Yeah…”

He’s disappointed in himself; thought he left that behavior back in the past, when he didn’t know how to deal with you. “You know I didn’t mean that right? I just care for you, that guy could’ve been dangerous, sweetheart.”

 Your head nods against his chest, your arms tightening around him. “How about you let daddy take care of you baby? How does that sound?” you nod again, causing his lips to curl up into a smile.

Pulling away, he grabs your chin and tilts it up. Your watery eyes lock with his, some tears still wetting your cheeks. “My pretty girl.”

Bending down, he kisses one of your wet cheeks, caressing it with his thumb. Chapped lips then drop down to yours, kissing them gingerly. It starts off as sweet, then he amps up the fierceness of it. You moan into his mouth, hand grabbing his shirt in your fist, holding him in place.

Flattered by your eagerness, he continues. Cornering you against the dining table, hands making their ways to your hips, easily lifting you up and setting you back down. His lips wrap around your bottom lip, kissing and tugging on it with a delicate bite.

He grabs your arms that are desperately clinging onto his chest, and holds them in a firm grip as his lips move to your neck. Littering your neck with hickeys and love bites, one of his favorite activities.

It’s a shame that they go away though, but that’s just another excuse to give you more. Purple flowers blossoming on your neck when his lips detach from the skin. He can smell the scent of his shampoo in your hair, drives him crazy all the time.

Your eyes close, breathy moans escaping those doll lips of yours. If kissing you to death could kill you, you’d be long gone by now. Lips dripping with maple, and sweet like honey; only a matter of time before he gets cavities.

One of his hands pushes you lightly to lie down on the surface beneath you, hands travelling up your plush thighs. He spreads you out, hiking your pink dress up, exposing your soaked panties. The sight making blood rush to his cock.

Dropping down to his knees, he marvels at the sight in front of him, urging him to lick his lips as his mouth feels dry. Hooking his finger into the gusset of your panties, he swiftly pulls them off, watching as your wet cunt glistens with need.

He blows some air onto your core, causing your knees to quiver and your breath to hitch. Looking down at him, your brows furrow in irritation as he sits and does nothing.

“Daddy, please…” God, that whining, how he loves it.

“Let daddy enjoy the view for a bit, sweetheart.” Knowing you can’t argue back, you rest your head back on the table. He notices that you’re obeying, and rewards you with his thumb running up your slit before circling your clit.

Slick begins to drip even more from your aching cunt, while your hips squirm trying to get as much friction as possible. Removing his finger, he leans closer and flattens his tongue against your pussy savoring your taste.

Rough hands wrap under your thighs then rest on your hip, pulling you to the edge of the surface. He presses his face fully against your wet heat, feverishly sucking and licking your sensitive bundle of nerves, before pushing his tongue into your hole, nose bumping against your clit.

Groaning at the taste, he eats you like a man starved. You on the other hand, in pure bliss. Eyes closed, mouth open, letting those adorable sighs and moans slip through your lips. Chanting daddy over and over like he isn’t between your thighs.

Your hands claw at anything and everything you can reach, settling on your breast, giving it a light squeeze making Leon’s heart ache with jealousy. Pulling his mouth away, he gathers spit in his mouth before letting it drip down onto your cunt.

Thighs begin to squirm at the feeling of the warm fluid dripping from your clit and down to your entrance. “Fuck, so fucking sexy.”

Dropping back down, he connects his mouth back between the apex of your thighs. Eating you out with determination, passion, and like his life depends on it. Pulling the hood of the clit back and sucking, making your hips jolt in pleasure.

“Prettiest girl, got the prettiest dolly pussy. Can’t wait to fuck this tight hole full of my cum.” You’re so into this, it’s adorable, he’s practically drowning down here.

Only a few seconds later, you come undone on his tongue. Legs shaking, eyes rolling to the back of your head. He moves back, stubble completely drenched and swollen pink lips. His dick throbs with need, as he roughly palms it through his jeans.

Standing back up, he begins to unbuckle his belt, the sound of the jingling snapping your out of wherever that orgasm sent you off to. Pulling out his thick cock, he gives it a few strokes, watching as precum gathers on the head of the tip.

He sucks in a breath of air, and looks back over at you. Eyes on his dick like it’s the first time seeing it, like he doesn’t dick you down every night till your fast asleep.

“Can daddy fuck this pretty little pussy baby?” he says, slapping the sticky tip against your mound, watching the invisible strings connect the two surfaces with lust and desire. You nod, biting your lip and gawking at what he’s doing.

“Of course he can, this slutty cunt can never say no to dick now can she?” he chuckles lowly. “Always so fucking needy and wet.”

Wasting no time, he slots himself between your folds and thrusts all the way in. You let out a yelp while he moans at the stretch. All of your thinking skills being replaced by thoughts of his dick, and it’s very evident on your face.

He grins, watching you through hooded eyes. “Pull that dress down a bit sweetheart, let me see those tits.”

You comply, pulling the material covering your breasts down, leaving you top naked in the absence of your bra. His calloused fingers twinge the stiff peaks as his hips begin to move.

He’s so deep in you, you can feel his dick in your throat, not like that’s an unfamiliar feeling anyways. He starts off relatively slow, to compensate for the way he plunged into you. But that tenderness quickly vaporizes as he begins to slam into you, the sound of skin slapping and the smell of sex filling the room.

The way your tits bounce with each thrust, the way you keep licking those lips, and the way you keep sucking him in are not doing you any favors of making him give up the idea of pouncing on you like a dog.

Holding back his moans is getting nearly impossible with your velvety walls squeezing his cock; each time his skin grazes your swollen clit. In attempts of shutting the two of you up, he crashes his lips against yours in a messy kiss.

His hand sneaking into the space between the two of you and stimulating your abused clit. And in return, you wrap your legs around his torso.

All it takes is a few rough circles on your pudgy bundle of nerves and a few strokes on the sweet spot inside your walls for you to be cuming yet again. This time however dragging him along with you. He lets out a broken moan as your walls milk every drop of cum out his balls, making him see stars.

Thrusting into you a few more times. He notices the sight of the familiar white ring surrounding the base of his cock before pulling out with a nasty slick sound.

He moves towards your sprawled out body, and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. Kissing your jaw, and rubbing the small beads of sweat on your forehead.

“Daddy’s Girl.”

divider by: @/cisneroto

[oblique-lane]

more mercenary analysis, whichever merc you want <3

Not a mercenary but... Okay!

Let's dissect Pauling

Always so collected, responsible and efficient. The one who is not afraid to get her hands dirty for the sake of a goal, and her performance is always one hundred percent. What could possibly be not cool about her?

Well, maybe the fact that this all is, in fact, an act. Of course it is.

I'm not saying her determination and dedication to her job aren't sincere decisions of her heart, she really enjoys it and shines in her work. It's just a matter of WHY and WHAT she's doing it for. And on what scale.

For her, her job is EVERYTHING. Eagerly working 364 days a year with barely any rest, masochistically putting herself in so much danger, blindly following the boss's instructions, not even hesitating to kill people standing on the way...

Wow, there's gotta be something going on here.

Well, obviously the Administrator plays A HUGE role in this situation. Why would Pauling trust her so much? Referring to the comics, Pauling trusted her wholeheartedly on whatever the Administrator was planning, even though she didn't know what it was. This blind following that vaguely resembles nothing less than a weird somewhat child-to-a-mother attachment. It's just a Boss, just a job, why?

Because that's what it is. Mother issues. Very apparent.

We don't know anything about Pauling's past, so there's where the headcanons begin:

I'm assuming her birth mother was very neglectful and dismissing, never acknowledged her daughter's accomplishments and struggles. No matter how hard Pauling tried to become "worthy" in her eyes, it seemed to be never enough, as if she didn't even exist at all. Maybe her mother was a substance addict or something and their household wasn't safe and stable, so Pauling had to become an adult early and run away from home as a teenager and find a job to get by.

(I assume that because I believe there was a mention in the canon lore that Ms.Pauling had been working for the Administrator for long long years (don't remember exactly), indicating that she started working when she was still a minor).

So, being taken under the Administrators wing, her young wounded brain found a substitute for a very thing she was lacking, subconsciously clinging onto the Administrator as a newly mother figure, in order to "get it right this time".

Administrators Strictness, responsibility and demandingness were the most favorite qualities of a person of authority in Pauling's eyes, in contrast to the laziness, unaccountability and indifference of the environment in which she grew up. She could finally strive.

This time she would show the mother figure that she's worthy, she's important and irreplaceable; she exists. She would prove that no amount of hardship is too much for her if it means approval for the Administrator.

And the Administrator kind-of-sort-of gave Pauling this pseudo-love in return, encouraging her to sacrifice herself even more for their work. Which is at the very least unfair, and at most just predatory. Administrators "love" was conditional, in contrast with when the real motherly love Pauling unknowingly expected. Administrator was too immature for a mother figure, too much in power for a partner or a friend, yet too close for a formal boss. What is this!? Something not nice.

The Administrator doesn't love Pauling for Pauling, she loves her working qualities. And thus, Paulings subconscious guess was confirmed that "I'm only important when I'm doing the job. I AM the job."

Tying your worth to what you DO instead of what you are is a huge dangerous existential rout one could choose. But she never really knew her importance outside of her skills, so she wouldn't know.

Now imagine how actually painful that character arc was for her, when the Administrator proved herself to be unreliable and secretive, and when Pauling started to question her intentions for the first time.

"... Because I trusted you!"

"Then why are you questioning me now?"

It wasn't even the real conversation between them, just Pauling's mind torturing her.

It reminded me of the crisis of a 4-year-old when they realise that their parents aren't perfect; they don't know anything and they CAN hurt you.This shattering illusion of almighty love. When a child stops believing that the "harsh love" their mother treats them with is simply an abuse.

Wouldn't it be terrifying to realise in your 20s thar despite running for "the mother's approval" all your life, you will never truly get it. If your mother failed to provide it to you at such a young age, nothing will truly substitute that, especially now, when you're an adult, no one will love your inner child the way it was supposed to be loved.

Unless you yourself decide to take that role.

...

Realistically speaking, it's not nearly that sever with Pauling! She's happy in the environment she's in, there's lots of interests for her to explore (Guns, fights, killin'!) So many adventures every day! Even if Pauling has her inner suffering, it's not that bad aa I describe it. Her mother problems may actually be an advantage, a reason she is such a good and caring boss for the mercenaries.

I'm just edgying things down for the sake of the clearer analysis. But still...

If the Administrator will be gone and Pauling loses her life-dedicated job... What will be left? Who is Pauling once Mann Co is no more? Can she answer that?

References:

– A video that helped me better understand the Good Girl mask:

– "Lise Bourbeau's 5 soul wounds model: Injustice"

[heartinhyacinth]

Listen, I love the idea of Hua Cheng finally getting to propose to his beloved special someone after 800 long-awaited years (and correct his previous blunder haha), but hear me out…

After Hua Cheng’s year of absence, hualian reunite, spend some blissful days soaking up each other’s company at the small cottage Xie Lian built on mount taicang, then decide to take a trip to ghost city. They could use the dice, of course, but it’s such a nice autumn day and days as such have become dear to them.

They’re snugged up close in the step-litter when Xie Lian casually asks, “San Lang, wanna get married?” He wears his usual gentle smile—the one he would use as if he were asking if Hua Cheng was feeling hungry or if he’d like to take a stroll through the maple trees.

But there is also the unmissable twinkle of amusement that is present, which Hua Cheng uses to convince himself that Xie Lian is in a silly mood and surely this is just payback—Xie Lian will confirm it any second now. But it doesn’t come. Five seconds, ten, fifteen, and the confirmation does not come.

So Hua Cheng simply sits there, expression bordering between pure terror and pure ecstasy as he tries to dissect the situation for any sign of its true reality. With breathy giggles, Xie Lian finally has mercy on the poor ghost, “You don’t have to say yes, San Lang—I can take it.” Despite his words, it’s exceedingly obvious by the humor in his tone that they’re both aware heaven and earth would sooner turn to dust, and with that, Hua Cheng finally regains control of his brain. “It would…” he takes a deep breath, nearly a millennia of longing crowding his throat all at once, “It would be my greatest honor, your highness”. Xie Lian’s smile brightens and he takes Hua Cheng’s hands in his own, “good—because no more dying, okay?”

The idea of Hua Cheng’s heart and soul asking him to spend their existence together—of Xie Lian affirming that he chooses Hua Cheng and wants him as his beloved forever and always, wants to walk by his side till the end—it’s just…too much to handle. (Him saying yes to Hua Cheng’s proposal would also achieve this but you get the idea).

Bonus: Hua Cheng fully planned to ask him during that same trip but Xie Lian beat him to it

[ibelievewhatyousaid]

The Sinner’s assigned Abnormalities in L. Corp are very intriguing to me, as not being a general “resonance,” that Limbus uses with its current day Ego. But! They were assigned that for a given reason, even if only on a meta level, so I’d like to put my two cents into it as I love the Lobcorp Abnos so much. These are simplified summaries of the Abnormalities and speculation on how they fit said Sinner.

Faust - Forsaken Murderer

I do not believe she has an Ego Gift adored to her except the one for this Abno, so we can focus in on this purely; all being of Forsaken Murderer. (On this note, although I am not talking about the realization Ruina Egos, Meursault has Ego for this Abno as well) Forsaken Murderer in his original logs was said to have been a murderer in federal prison to have been sentenced to death. Before that could take place, a bunch of researchers decided to experiment on him. They wanted to prove an innate “evil,” existed and on a further level, they wanted to “cure,” him, although unclear what it really was they wanted to cure. Their experiments twisted out all of his penitence for violence, turning him docile, until he came to this belief of ringing in his head, that his head itself had became metal, leading to self harm against himself. Eventually a fatal accident happens, the researchers jump the ship and decide to simply dissect his brain, until the end he muttered, “ends, begins, ends, begins, end.”

NOW, this is hard to shape into Faust’s story, given how little we know about her on a deeper level, but, I think there’s already (shallow-ish) connections we can make. Faust has a lot of implications of science experiment (Child in a Flask, Telepole) whether we take this ‘literally,’ it’s safe to say either way Faustcord keeps her on a tight leash as being an “experiment” of a Faust who is willing to take a gamble. A lot of Forsaken Murderer focuses on the fact he is chained and tied up but “free as any other man,” we could take this as Faust’s expectation of being a skilled scientist and genius who is bound by those around her, to fulfill that role, yet “free,” at the sake of being all knowing. Faust is “omnipresent,” yet she is just another in a chain of command. In TKT she mentions to Vergilius that both of them “know their place,” despite how great she is, how “free,” of knowing she is, she is just another chain, in both the City and Dante’s contract to the sinners. We can also go deeper with this concept of “inevitably,” of the city, given to her by a predestined plan of fates, in every mirror world, how it all will end has already been put into motion. To know of how tied you are to fate surely must be a token of freedom as well, can’t it? He also seems to have a bit of an ego, a Ruina line of his being, “Don’t look at me with those eyes. You’re the most pitiful one here.” Which, fits Faust’s need to be above others, such as “Faust is brilliant, smart, Yi Sang is a genius.” An implication that Yi Sang had a cap on how brilliant he can be, something he must’ve lucked into, Faust was born to be great. Even if she is regrettably pitiful in every other aspect. An inability to connect to others or form meaningful attachments, this especially rears its head in events were her intelligence creates gaps between her and others, all of MotWE or Dante’s brush off of her in Canto 6 when she cannot given them an answer, or, even earlier, Sinclair accusing Faust and Limbus using the Sinners as compasses to boughs. In all situations it leaves her isolated and awkward, unable to answer, creating a larger, pitiful wedge between her and others, despite how great she is. She is still a thing to be “studied,” whether from an actual scientist or to other versions of her, or those around her, she is a spectacle.

Outis - Der Freishütz / Bloodbath

The story of Der Freischütz in Lobcorp was of a marksman making a deal with the devil, the devil proposed that the gun could shoot anyone, on the last bullet it would pierce the person the marksman loved, in return, the devil would gain the marksman soul in hell. The marksman thus went through all his bullets, killing off all his loved ones. The marksman traveled, simply doing good and bad deeds in impulse, no sign of an actual moral code. Eventually, he realized that the devil had long since stopped following him. He realizes that the contract had long been fulfilled, since the very beginning of him giving up his loved ones, did he fall to hell. And so, now a devil as well, the marksman continued to shoot anyone he wanted, forever.

Again, another sinner we’re left out in the cold for. But, to tap into Outis’ source, The Odyssey, the story follows Odysseus’ desperation to finally reach home, to his family. As the stories play out the more Odysseus gives up his morals. To sacrificing his men to no mercy, a king who was once gentle and kind, gives up all people around him to succeed in arriving home. Of course, from the start, Odysseus had given up his family, a mother who died alone, a wife left waiting for over a decade, a son who had never known him. Odysseus also makes many deals with Gods around him, something he pays greatly later for. Of course, none of this is a one for one, but I think it is to mimic Odysseus, or here, Outis’ slower decent into someone who hurts those who she loves (or should’ve) by her cruelty, once Odysseus had set off to war was the moment he was bound to lose everything. Which, is very similar to how Der Freishütz is, he had lost his humanity the moment he made the deal.

Bloodbath is a Abno based overtly on Carmen, but, to ease it into a more general baseless story, the Abnormality represents: “the pain of all those who couldn’t take their sorrow in stride.” A huge focus on Bloodbath is the guilt of love, of unable to achieve success, using “scars” as marks of failure. The bath mocks the person peering in with hands reaching out desperately, as if begging to be saved, or joined, in this misery. It’s a sign of endless despair, unable to ever reach the climax of this, the only outcome is to accept this wave of despair and let yourself accept it.

So, arguably this fits Outis really well just on the bases of the line: “Many hands float in the bath. They are the hands of the people I once loved.” This once again, is more of a line of thinking born from her source, but a lot of Odysseus’ guilt is haunting to him, specifically that of Penelope, but overall, he gives up many men, including people very close to him, to never truly “succeed,” I feel like this one is easier to connect to, given what I said of the previous Abno to Outis, so.

Don Quixote - Meat Lantern / Void Dream / Fragment of the Universe

Meat Lantern is quite.. obtuse, in its logs, both in Lobcorp and LoR most is left obscure. Which is terribly fitting. Meat Lantern, by your guess, is obviously not a tiny little flower. The logs say that it is gigantic, underneath the entire facility, always waiting, it lures people in, in L. Corp’s lens, it lures in employees by being a lantern, something shiny, full of hope, they haven’t seen stuck underground for so long. Any nature, any lights, something that wasn’t horrific or artificial has long since been lost to everyone there. It’s easy to feel it calling to them, to reach out, to touch, but it’s all a ploy to devour and eat whoever trusts it.

So, Donqui’s Abnos are actually what made me originally want to write about them. I had written out my analysis of hers a few months before, but it was too hinged on my own reading of her that it felt easy to write off as me sounding insane. But! With the reveal of MotWE.. this seems, pretty obvious. (Glad to know I’m not too crazy) Don Quixote wears a mask, one of “hope” something born from really just being .. silly, of something rare in the City. Someone who genuinely believes in good? In hope? Here? As “Don Quixote” stands as an ideal, a concept, “too good to be true.” and beneath that is a “reality,” no one’s has “really ever seen.” (as the log says about the “real body” of Meat Lantern) and then “devours” people. Yeah. I bet.

Void Dream’s logs follow someone who has Void Dream eat all their nightmares, giving them the best dream they could have imagined, the person they love had returned, even working in such a horrible company that is L. Corp was good. Everything was so, so amazing, a perfect ideal world for the dreamer. When waking up, the person was crushed by reality, when forced to confront the truth they became despaired. They tried to find those dreams again, in an obsession, but, they never did come back. The employee comes to the realization that Void Dream’s deal was too good to be true, that from the start, the Abno had set them up. And they had lost, unable to enjoy either sides of reality or dreams, they find their way back to Void Dream and beg them to eat all their dreams. Stealing away all their dreams, nightmares, hopes and despairs, virtually leaving them empty. When Void Dream is accused of leading people on, it brushes off the person, insisting it just wishes the best for others. The line, “a demon must change its shape to deceive others.”

Originally, I had read this purely as Don Quixote being put into the victim’s prospective, someone who “wakes up” from a perfect dream to be crushed by reality. And, I don’t actually disagree, I think this still 100% fits. But I think her fitting “as” the Abnormality makes perfect sense, too. Obviously, the whole “deceiving others,” line fits. To change one’s shape, a “demon” a Bloodfiend, to deceive others into seeing it as innocent, pure, true to the ideals it preaches. But, and this is a bit speculation on what we know very little of, “Don Quixote,” was given, or is a dream herself that a Bloodfiend wishes to dream, that Bloodfiend must’ve spun this tale, this “perfect” dream is an “act of kindness,” despite not being kind at all. Despite giving out this dream, not only to herself, but to others around her, does it lead to destruction and a harsher fall to reality itself.

Fragment of the Universe.. actually isn’t an Abnormality. At least, not traditionally, if the logs are true. The log mentions how it let itself be caught and studied, and through studying they declared it “intelligent enough” to communicate via language, thus, it learned more and more of humans and humanity. It became endeared and loved people. It reflected what it saw, leading to it looking like a kid’s drawings of hearts. When asked why it had came to interact with humans, it said it wanted to spread messages. One being its song, a song of the universe that drove people crazy, but also let them “finally see the stars,” and also to inform everyone that “there are no coincidences in the universe.”

FotU is really intertwined to its love of humanity, even its design is rooted in this love for the species. Its aim to spread its song is to “relieve” people, as well, even if misguided or unable to be understood. I think Don Quixote, as a concept, is so terribly human. She’s overly emotional, she’s quick to action, strong morals, she’s clumsy and brave and fearful and determined. She is so very human that it backfires. Given Cassetti’s lines, “we are so, so hideous behind the mask.” and his dedication as well as other Bloodfiends to “run” from being monsters and Elena’s lines of her wondering if she was desperate enough to “chase after being an ordinary human again.” I think the Bloodfiend behind Don Quixote genuinely loves humans, and, most likely, wants to “be” one. And “reflects” what she sees, which is a habit Donqui has, mirroring Merusault in TKT, or wishing to “copy” other sinners from Outis’ wristwatch. Donqui also has a huge tie to stars, so, so many of her IDs have her mentioning them, not to mention her tagline. I think an Abno who knows far more than it lets on, powerful, letting itself into humanity, coming to love them, but never being one, is dreadfully fitting.

Yi Sang - Funeral of the Dead Butterflies

FotDB is an Abnormality born from the pain and suffering of.. Lobotomy Corporation, actually! It’s a mourner who is rumored to wandering the halls of the facility with a coffin for those who are bound to be lost, an early mourning for those who are destined to die, and an incomplete sorrow for those already gone, the coffin too small to fit them all, unable to fall asleep or escape. The ending of the log decides that there is no escape, these butterflies are damned to wait, because there “must be an end to every world.”

I think, just like with Gregor’s case, although the original Abnormality is directly tied to L. Corp, in a more general definition, it is about the pain and sorrow of those inevitable deaths born from things such as K corp, or the Smoke War. Cases of people’s lives being thrown away and devalued, not given proper burials, no home to escape to, a fate to dying here, leaving the mourning to the others in the same situation who simply “lucked out.” In Yi Sang’s case, an “ending for every world,” feels very deliberate to the “world,” in which he was locked up in a cage, passively awaiting the days for it to end, one way or another, only to realize he was able to walk out, that the door was never locked. Yi Sang’s grief and attachment to the League of Nine, the only person who seems to grieve over those loses, alone, carrying that pain wherever he goes. In that sense, “an ending to every world,” could also be turned into a guaranteed ending of things he loved as well. There is more to be said, but this one seems very obvious.

Ryōshū - Spider Bud / One sin and Hundreds of Good Deeds / Scorched Girl / Bloodbath / Big and Will be Bad Wolf

(Oh my God girl. Do you need that many???)

Spider Bud is an Abno that is deeply protective of her babies, quite literally her alternative name being “brood mother,” she reacts negatively and violent if an Agent hurts or steps on her children

Ryōshū has gotten this Abno thrice now. It’s gotta be important, and yeah, it is! This is born purely from her Source, but Yoshihide’s tragedy is losing his daughter, Spider Bud’s entire gimmick is being peaceful (as an Abno can be) unless someone hurts her children, she stalks and watches and exacts revenge against those people. I didn’t want to bring in Uptie stories, but Ryōshū’s uncharacteristic gentleness to the spiderlings who nip at her is really.. striking. Once again, this one feels kind of.. duh, so I won’t go much deeper into it.

One Sin is an Abnormality with the purpose of being confessed to, to relieve one of their sins, it’s tied to religion to Hell’s screen gimmick of.. Hell.. feels, yes, but I feel as though this is more general and disingenuous from One Sin’s connection to Christianity while Hell’s screen is about Buddhism’s hell. Instead this felt more interlined to Parallel Gebura. A lot of people have jumped on this for power scaling fun, but! I think it’s important to realize why Carmen would’ve said “At least similar in this regard,” my take is that a huge aspect of Gebura’s woes in Lobcorp was her unable to protect those she loved. Given Yoshihide’s tragedy here, unable to protect his daughter. I think that is the aim that makes the most sense right now with how very little we have about Ryōshū.

Scorched Girl is another Abnormality she’s already gotten, all in all, SG lives on a sense of angered revenge and self destruction. Her logs depict her to be torn in two from her desire of affection to one of wishing harm on others.

Her attempt at hurting others involves hurting herself, which lines up with Yoshihide’s ending, of his natural self destructiveness, how he makes his art and his death. Her rage also lines up with Ryōshū’s, a want to have back warmth, love she’s lost, but only able to be a match of destruction.

Bloodbath, we already covered this in Outis’ section! I think Outis and Ryōshū naturally align similarly, (Hong Lu, Mr. “Horrific family” isn’t ever the one getting cold or aloof to mentions of family or parents or children, it’s only ever these two!) A guilt of unable to succeed despite how much you gave up and sacrificed, including others And to lose those you love, the hands in the water being everyone you’ve ever loved, by your own faults.

Finally, Big and Will be Bad Wolf! The Abnormality is about being set up from birth being one way. From the way society sees you, you will always be what they depict you as. The Abnormality doesn’t feel remorse over the violence it causes, because it was “inevitable” he’d turn out this way. Who is he to blame nature? Regardless of nurture.

This one is the most hard to really fit without going “well, just a hunch.” I think this could be in regards to Yoshihide’s further and further acts of violence and pain to others around him, but unable to feel that remorse (until it is too late) because he was born with this way. He was “born” an “artist.” Who is he to defy things sacrificed for art? He is unable to be anything but cruel and vindictive, and he doesn’t try to be.

Well, that’s everything I could remember off the top of my head! Apologies if it starts to get a little weaker by the end, I’ve been typing for hours. In general, there’s more I could say or conclude, but, because of how loose Abnos are in concept, as well as how most of these Sinners (everyone but Yi Sang…) haven’t had their cantos yet, it leaves a lot of assumptions built upon their sources and short behavior ticks we’ve seen them display. I won’t say these are confirmed or sure fire takes but more so a jumping off point in fathoming these choices.

[katiascraft]

"So sue me for moving on and doing everything right. For being something you can't forget" | LN4

Parings: Lando Norris x Bisexual!Reader.

Summary: after that night where you saw lando with the opposite of you, you made sure he regretted leaving you behind. You both continued with your lives but you being friends with all of his friends made things tricky. Did you both really move on?

PART 2 OF "OPPOSITE"

Now playing: "Sue me" by Sabrina Carpenter.

Word count: +2,7k.

Warnings: reader has a girlfriend. Mentions os sex. Insinuating. Angst. Not a happy ending I think (?). Not a native English speaker so there could be errors. Not proofread.

Author's note: hope you like it and it's enough as a sequel! Don't forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and have mate together!)

MASTERLIST

Since that tragic and heartbreaking night when Lando ate another girl in front of your nose who didn't look any closer to you - you decided it was real-time to move on.

The fact that he had the audacity of calling you beautiful after kissing her was too much for you to handle.

But you also decided to make his life a living hell if you could. You were vengeance. You would make him regret his decision as long as you needed to. The thing was you kept on seeing each other because you had so many friends in common that it was just impossible to not see each other ever again.

After that night you fell into a depressive hole. It was really hard and intense. You needed to grieve him. You didn't know how to function properly anymore. Your brain tortured you with contrasting images of Lando calling you beautiful, perfect, gorgeous, pretty, cute, baby. You constantly were rumbling around it. The whole day. And the whole night. Hou felt miserable. Your whole life together felt like a completely stupid lie. You felt stupid. Very stupid. How could you believe him? How could you not? You were so in love with him. For you, he was the one. He was your favorite song - the one that just comforts you and makes you feel happy and special. He made you feel special. But it turned out you weren't because he chose to date the opposite of you a few months after allowing the end of your relationship. It felt so unreal. It felt terrible. The image of them kissing made you nauseous. And you had to run to the bathroom and throw up. It was embarrassing. Shameful. It was heartbreaking to see. You were sure that if you didn't have your friends to back you up you wouldn't have done it. Sadness was your new personality and you lost all of your confidence. You didn't even know how to talk to people. You thought they wouldn't ever like you because you didn't look like her. Or even laugh like her. Or touch like her.

Did she touch him better than you did? Was she a better sight naked? Was she as fun? As loyal? As empathic?

You didn't want to know. There was no self-confidence left in your person. You were just an outsider in your own body. You didn't feel enough. You changed your style to baggy huge clothes so you could hide in them. Yes, they were more comfortable and expressed your personality better in your opinion. But on the therapist, the truth was you hid. You hid from the world because you felt so humiliated by the fact he chose her after you. She was better than you in every aspect.

You became obsessed with her for a while. Stalking her socials like crazy comparing. You couldn't stop. Every picture she uploaded with him was dissected destroying every single bit of your heart. She was gorgeous. Flawless skin. Trendy lips. Brown eyes. Blonde hair. Skinny and curvy. Everything you felt you were not. You always ended up sobbing in your bed. You couldn't believe you believed he loved you. That he found you attractive. All the times he said he needed you turned into nightmares. How could he need me if he now has her? There was nothing that could help you make you feel better.

Carlos was that one guy friend you are grateful for. He helped you so much. He knew Lando but he also loved you. And he was as much of a friend to him as he was to you. And he didn't fail you. He was one of the reasons you are better healthier and happier now. He listened to you every night. And made sure you knew you weren't the monster you thought you were. Also, your best friend didn't leave your side for a second. She was everything to you. Without her, there wouldn't be you.

It took you a few couple of months to start to progress. You started feeling better day by day. Your friends always made sure you were comfortable and if you needed to talk they were there for you - always ready to cheer you up.

Things got tricky when the birthday parties started. You knew it was impossible for Lando not to attend to his friend's birthdays so you needed to go through that test. The scariest test. Which was to see Lando again without crying or dying trying. It was the hardest part for you. You didn't want to ignore him but the few could of first times you did. You couldn't even look at him. He came along with his girlfriend. That girlfriend. And it was painful for you to watch. Seeing him kiss someone else. You missed his lips so much. He touched her the way you loved. You thought of stopping being friends with everyone so you didn't have to go through all of that. But eventually, you stopped carrying. You started talking to other guys and girls and you now have dates again and regaining confidence in yourself.

Once you felt you were back to your best version that's when Landon regretted everything he did. And realized he had made the worst choice of his life. And that there was no coming back from there.

One day he was just driving around when he remembered he had forgotten his rings to Osxar’s apartment. So he asked Oscar if he could stop by and pick them up. He agreed and mentioned you were there because you were very close to Oscar’s girlfriend. He got nervous. He doubted for a few seconds at the red light. He wasn't sure if it was appropriate. Since that horrible night, as he remembered it, he didn't know how to talk to you. He was lucky you only saw each other in crowded and public spaces so you didn't have to talk or look at each other. You could just ignore each other and that was it.

He broke up with Hanna, his ex, a few weeks ago. The relationship was going nowhere and she was very toxic at some point. He always knew he didn't love though. He didn't want to admit he chose her so he could forget about you faster. But of course, it didn't work. And he hated himself now for purring you into so much pain. He just didn't make the best decisions in life. But he decided to get his shit together and fix himself. No dating life till he figures it out. Or that he wanted to believe.

After a few minutes of driving he accepted to go to Oscar’s. He needed to face reality once in a while. You two couldn't keep ignoring each other and make everyone uncomfortable. Maybe there was still a possibility you could be friends at least. Or he hoped for that.

You were at Oscar’s happily chatting and eating fruit in his living room. You had your papaya-matching pajamas with his girlfriend. You loved them both so much. You just were gossiping about the drama happening at the University you attended. You were studying engineering. You were proud of yourself. Your dream was one day working on an F1 team. You loved strategy so maybe one day you could win a championship. The bell rang capturing your attention. Oscar answered and announced it was Lando. You felt weird instantly. Uncomfortable. But tried to brush it off as if it was nothing. Because it wasn't right?

You said hi to him like you normally said to anyone. He said hi to the three of you and asked for his rings.

When he saw you he felt he was about to faint. It's been a while since you two last saw each other. And you looked beautiful. Orange was your color. He loved it on you. He always fell for you in orange. He didn't know if it was part of your plan or just destiny torturing him. He tried to play it cool like he wasn't feeling what he was feeling.

Your eyes were locked on his frame. You haven't seen him in a while. You felt kinda excited to see him again to your surprise. He looked incredibly handsome from your point of view. The Sunlight was brightening his face making his eyes bluer and shiny. You just tried to brush off this thought in your head. You have a girlfriend now. And it's been more than a year since everything ended. You shouldn't feel this way. You wouldn't feel the need to take off his hoodie and give him head. So you could feel your effect on him. How he begs you for more. That you're such a good girl. His best girl. The prettiest one.

You just looked to the other side. Ashamed of such a thought. Of course, the air was tense and the interactions were a bit awkward between the four of you in that silent apartment. You readjusted in your site and swallowed hard. You looked at him again now with his rings on smiling and talking happily with Oscar about paddle matches and barbecues with the boys. You licked your lips. Your heart was racing fast and you just needed to get out of there. You stood announcing your departure. The boys looked at you a bit confused because you kind of interrupted his conversation.

“Yeah I think I should head out too,” Lando said while you picked your stuff up off the sofa. You glanced at him a bit and hugged Oscar's girlfriend with a smooch on her cheek. “See you beautiful,” you said. And she smiled. You then hugged Oscar and he led both you and Lando out of his apartment.

When he closed the door you called the elevator. Uncomfortable silence between you two. Tense. You didn't want to look at him. And he didn't wanna do it either. The elevator arrived and you both jumped in.

“Do you need a lift?” he asked breaking the silence between you too. His voice is a bit shaky. You finally looked at him.

“If that's okay I'll take it” you answered softly. He nodded giving you a little smile. You didn't even know why you accepted. This will get you in so much trouble. But you couldn't help it. It was Lando. And whether you wanted to believe it or not - he was the love of your life. It never mattered how son of a bitch he was to you. One way or another you just fell for him like the first time. Though you don't like thinking about it when you are in a relationship.

You got out of the building in silence neither of you wanted to say anything. The tension was cutting deep in both of you. Landon led you to his car. A very not-so-secrecy car. He opened the door for you and you just hopped in. He rounded his car and got up on the pilot seat. When his door closed the silence intensified. You didn't say or look at each other for a few minutes. He didn't even turn on the car. You sat there in silence.

“You still live where you always lived?” he finally asked turning on the car. You looked at him. Your heartache intensified.

“Yeah, I do,” you said in almost a whisper. He nodded and started driving towards your place. He turned on the radio and it was Ed Sheeran playing. You tried to concentrate on looking by the windows if possible the whole trip.

He looked at you by the corners of his eyes. He didn't find words to say. But in some twisted way, he found comfort in this situation. You looked so gorgeous he just couldn't stop looking at you every chance he had while driving.

“You could try to be not so obvious. You're eating me alive with your eyes” you told him out of nowhere making him skip a beat. You looked at him directly for the first time since you got out of the apartment.

“I'm sorry. You look too gorgeous I can't help myself. I know I shouldn't and it's disrespectful but yeah, I won't lie about it” he kind of defended himself. You rolled your eyes a little irritated surprisingly.

“I don't believe you anymore when you say that about me if it was true you wouldn't broken up with me” you spitted. A mix of hurt and anger in your voice.

“Oh c'mon y/n. I told you I was sorry. I was an idiot that night. And I needed to focus on my career and yeah in that I lied to you because I jumped into another relationship quickly. And… I don't care if you believe me or not but I dated her just because I wanted to forget you and I thought it would work but it didn't. I felt stupid. Because you were right. You're always right. I was a selfish asshole. I was in love with you for real but I fucked it up. And yeah I've felt like shit since then so I already paid for my sins” he said with a deep crackly voice. A mix of desperation and upset in his voice. He was sad and angry at the same time. At him.

You looked at him trying to figure out whether you were being fooled again or not. You sighed stressed. You wanted him to rot in hell for what he did. But as of right now, you don't know if that's what you wanted.

“I have a girlfriend you know,” you told him not looking at him. You didn't wanna cry. And you knew yourself too well to be sure that if you did you would break.

“I know,” he said shortly and coldly. You played with your fingers nervously. “At least we could try to be friends?” he now says with a cracky voice. Your heart wouldn't take any more of this. You felt so gutted.

“No, we can't be friends. I never wanted to be your friend in the first place” you answered him. You heard him have a deep sigh. He didn't know what to do anymore.

You stayed in silence for the rest of the ride. When you got home he stopped by your door. You didn't move for a few seconds.

“I really hate you, Lando. I hate you made me love you so deeply that I will never be able to get over you. And all of the memories we made will haunt me for the rest of my life and kill me” you confessed. He was looking at you but you didn't. “I hate that I really wanna kiss you right now and lose my shit just to be able to feel you again but I won't.” you finally looked at him. He got into a trance. His heartbroken yet he wanted to kiss you so badly. He stared at your face analysing every feature. Your lips looked so tasty in that lipstick. Those shorts showed your beautiful and sexy legs. He knew you weren't wearing a bra. He leaned to you, but you stopped him with your hand.

“You need to pay for your sins still baby boy” you whisper so close to his face that sent shivers down his spine. He was so turned on now. And you knew and you were enjoying it. You were too but you won't let him win. “You’ll have to sue me for looking so pretty while you can't have me. Sue me for wearing your favorite color and you can't do anything about it. Sue me for being something you won't be able to forget Lando. You can't have me anymore and I just wish this is the karma for you to rot in hell for what you did” you whispered so sexy. With a needy voice. And a malicious undertone. You had him speechless. You smiled victorious though you really wanted to fucked him right there and show him what is like to have the best sex you'll ever have in your life. But you just pushed him away from you softly and got out of his car without saying anything else. You close the door behind you and get into your house not looking back.

Landon can believe what you did. And how he felt. He was already hard. And you left. And you hated him. But then why did he feel you wanted him as much as he did a few moments before?

—————————————————————————————-

Hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so feel free to send your requests!

[yandere-romanticaa]

It's a good evening to write and you're all craving something for Viktor, which I shall deliver. I haven't started writing part two of his backstory but I'll get to it. Eventually.

Also, if you're interested I made a Pinterest board for this man and I'll regularly add images there. Thank you all for the support and please enjoy this little blurb. ♥️

masterlist.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍, who after he takes you for himself, starts to do little but intimate things with you around the house. The first few days, possibly weeks, were spent with endless screams, pleas and tears. Viktor hated seeing you in such a state, he hated the fact that he was the reason for your bitter tears and silent whimpers.

However, his patience outweighed his sorrow. He was willing to wait until the stars in the whole universe imploded for you to love him.

But, for now, not feeling the need to flinch away from him and his touch would be a good start.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍, who tells you about his day as he makes you dinner. Viktor understands that communication is important and that he needs to establish some things, and what better way to do that than by talking? Of course, he is rather awkward at it, as he has no idea what to talk about aside from his work. There are times when Viktor tries to tap into your interests and wants to ease your fear but it almost never works. What a pity...

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍, who starts over sharing specific details about his work which depending on your mental state could either be terrifying, useful or some morbid combination of both. Viktor tells you of the people who come to his table, all dead and all his to dissect. There's an odd glimmer in his dark eyes as his dominant hand mimics movements of his sharp scalp. The way in which he speaks sends shivers down your spine, it was rare to see someone so emotionless show even the faintest sparks of passion.

If the situation was not already so grim, his childlike excitement could even be considered cute.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍, who tries so hard to accommodate you and your whims! While he does keep you locked up, your little cage is more than furnished - soft blankets, pillows fit for royalty of old, little trinkets which could keep you entertained and perhaps even a television if he sees fit. Viktor may not understand social cues but he is not stupid either. He doesn't want your brain to rot away in that room, especially when he's not home!

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍, who sometimes sneaks into your room and just. Stands there. Watching you, his gaze neutral but his eyes are blown wide. He does not want to be caught so he makes sure to control his ragged breathing and beating heart. Can you hear him, even when you're knocked out cold? Can you feel him, his presence? A part of him wishes to stay hidden in the shadows, where it's safer, where he can keep a close on you. But his bolder side demands more, more, more.

Who knows, he might just sliver under the covers with you one day. But, one step at a time.

🔪 TAGS: @shamelessdarkprince, @latolover, @samuraijack, @moyazami, @sunhareskies, @red-viewe

[meanbossart]

Hi RJ! I hope you are having a great time with your partner! Sorry if this has been asked before, but I was curious what DU Drow’s thoughts are to Astarion marking him like he did to himself. I know you’ve mentioned that Drow did a lot of the scarification as a teen to cope with things, and in your Bhaalist AU Drow has Astarion do some of the face marks. But I saw the art with Astarion’s bite marks on Drow’s ass and I doubt Drow was unhappy about that lol. Does he like having permanent marks from his partner? Do they ever bring any sort of blood/knifeplay into their relationship? I’d be super interested to hear Drow’s thoughts about it! And alternatively what you think Astarion would feel about it.

Your art is absolutely gorgeous and you are easily one of my favorite artists of all time. Your mastery of body shape, facial expressions, telling a story through character design, everything makes me swoon at your art. I’m so invested in your freaky man, RJ, I love him and as someone with a master’s degree in clinical psychology I want to dissect his brain and study him under a microscope

Thank you so much for your kind words!!! Happy to have a specialist in the field here watching this trainwreck LOL

And that's a very interesting question! Besides for his forearm scars (which were a weird show of dominance in his bhaalspawn days) DU drow's facial and chest scarification were actually done by Orin, and as you can guess he is very into the idea of being permanently marked by his partner - definitely the kind of guy to get your name tattooed on him six months into the relationship.

He does have an inkling of good sense and propriety, though. It's kind of a pillar of the character that he knows how to operate in society in favor of coming across as pleasant and only an acceptable level of eccentric, which is to say that he has the vaguest idea that requesting that Astarion mutilate him for his own pleasure might not bode well. This, as it is the case for everything else, is my own take on the character, but Astarion does not strike my as someone who would want to permanently harm their partner once he's made a genuine emotional bond with them. DU drow realizes this, plus there's the whole treating-him-with-kid's-gloves complex which leads him to believe this would be a sensitive topic, given Astarion's own background.

But DU drow often fantasizes about the scenario, specially during sex or moments where he is emotionally overwhelmed with his love for him. It takes him some time to make the connection between his own scars and what they mean about past relationships, but perhaps at some point an opportunity would arise where he makes such request - and he would do it because it's important, and because he has to for once in his life trust Astarion to either A) participate enthusiastically or B) Allow him to choose to take on the discomfort of his own free-will, and see it as a sign of love and compromise rather than the helplessness he imposes upon him.

And I think that depending on how it was presented, Astarion would do it. He wouldn't do it on a whim, or just to get DU drow's rocks off, but he would do it if he saw that it was something that he really needed, and for good reason. He wouldn't like the process, but he would appreciate having that trust put on him and to have the chance to care for his partner, to have him ask him for help, as weird as the request might be.

[fo1ktale]

Embers of Redemption

You didn’t know why he suddenly hated you. You had wracked you brain, ransacking memories and dissecting past conversations, but you still couldn’t figure it out. What had you done to garner such vehement disdain?

Your gaze remained fixed on him, he who was deliberately avoiding eye contact, looking everywhere but at you. You took a sip of your wine, before returning to absentmindedly swirling the glass. Across the room, Azriel lounged, seemingly unaffected, yet an undeniable air of tension lingered. It was palpable to you and, undoubtedly, the entire Inner Circle sensed it.

As an archivist, you had to work closely with the leaders of the Night Court. Rhys’ father had been your employer for a long time, and that was how you met Rhys. The two of you were of similar age, and he admired your work ethic. Once Rhys had taken over his father’s rule, you joined the Inner Circle and governed beside them.

They were your family. Mor was the sister you never had, Rhys and Cassian were the annoying older brothers you couldn’t get rid of, and Amren was, well, Armen. Azriel however, he was special. You knew from the start that the Illyrian would change your life forever. He had stolen your heart, and you willingly surrendered it. Yet, his unwavering devotion to Mor couldn't escape your notice. You observed the way he looked at her, the care he extended. While to him, you were merely his best friend, to you, he meant everything.

Best friend— that was what you were. Through every trial, he stood by you, and you became his confidante. He shared his struggles, with his own identity, his relationships, and his stresses. You let him ramble on about Mor for decades, concealing the pain in your heart behind a sorrowful smile. You would have endured this indefinitely in a desperate attempt to know everything— anything about him.

One faithful day, he decided to get over Mor. You went with him, as the ever supportive best friend. You two had drunk your hearts out that night, downing shots after shots. You danced and you sang and you laughed like you never did before.

That night, he left with another woman, and your heart panged as you witnessed it.

His arm was casually slung over her shoulder as they walked out of the club. He whispered something in her ear and she giggled.

Sinking to your knees, without caring about what everyone else thought of you, you sobbed.

Getting over Mor didn’t make him realise that you were the one that stuck by him through everything. It had only gave him the freedom to find other females to fuck.

You had told yourself countless times to get over the unrequited love you felt for him. You went on dates and relished in the beauty of solitude, but it never worked. Everything led back to him.

When Rhys was trapped Under the Mountain, the two of you found solace in each other. There were many nights when insomnia got the better of you, and you would crawl into Azriel’s bed, where his mere presence would lull you to sleep. Other nights, nightmares would keep him awake, and you would hold him until he calmed down. Somedays, when the ache in your hearts felt a little to much to handle, you would go on walks in the forest, or even better, he would take you flying. Seeking comfort in each other became routine.

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but you believed that the bond between you two had evolved into something more than mere friendship. The thought brought joy, a glimmer of hope that you weren't just his best friend anymore.

Rhys’ return derailed every longing wish you nurtured. Azriel started pulling away from you. At first, you had chalked it up to the return of his brother, thinking that he wanted to spend more time with him to make up for fifty years of separation. However, more time passed, you found yourself fading from his life. He trained with Cassian, soared through the skies with Feyre, spent substantial amounts of time with Elain, and even confided in Nesta.

Nesta, who had previously been horrible to everyone, seemed to know more about Azriel’s current life than you did.

It became apparent that you have only been a distraction for him all those years; you meant nothing. Now, he had his new family, leaving you to be alone.

He truly hated you.

Tears welled up in your eyes. Your heart ached. You were lonely. So lonely. And Azriel hated you.

You couldn’t do it anymore. It became difficult to breathe. You needed air. Shooting up from your seat, the chair scratching against the floor as you made if out of the house through your hazy vision.

You stumbled through the city, finding an empty bench near a secluded part of the Sidra.

Pulling your knees up to your chest, you hid your face in your hands, letting the tears flow freely. Your cries echoed loudly, but in the midst of the agony in your chest, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Hands touched your shoulders gently and your head snapped up to meet the warm eyes of Cassian. His face was taut with concern and his lips moved, but you could not discern what he was saying. Everything felt muffled. The waves of the Sidra river fell deaf against your ears and your eyes only saw colours blurring together.

Sitting on the empty space beside you, you faintly felt as Cassian pulled you towards him, allowing you to curl up to his side. His hands rubbed your back as you released every bit of sadness and grief that was trapped in you. You didn’t know how long you two stayed there. It could’ve been minutes, or even hours, but Cassian didn’t relent. He stayed by your side until your tears dried up and soft sniffles were the only sound in the air.

“Why are you here?” Your voice rasped.

Cassian looked down at you, replying gently, “Because you’re family. You left in such a hurry, and were all worried for you. I think Az was about to rip his hair out of his scalp.”

You scoffed, “Sure he was.”

“What’s going on with you two?” Cassian’s question only intensified the horrible feeling in your chest. “We’ve all noticed that something was amiss, but we didn’t want to pry.”

“He didn’t tell you?” Cassian shook his head.

“He hates me,” you revealed, forcing your voice to be steady but failing miserably.

Cassian called out your name. “There is no world where Azriel would ever hate you.”

You glared, “We haven’t spent time together in months. He avoids sitting beside me at dinners, or gatherings, and he would much rather stand if the only seat that was free was the one next to me. He leaves the room when I enter. He rejects my every initiative to hang out. He ignores me when I talk to him. He doesn’t talk to me, doesn’t look at me, doesn’t even acknowledge that I exist. I don’t know what world you are living in, Cass, but in my world, he detests every fiber of my being.”

Cassian didn’t say anything, only lying back in quiet rumination.

“He hates me,” you whispered. “and I don’t know what to do because all I can think about is him. He means so much to me, and it hurts that I mean so little to him. I’m barely even a grain of sand in the ocean that is him.”

“I’ll be honest,” Cassian began. “I do not know what’s going on in Azriel’s mind. I won’t lie and say that I haven’t noticed him pushing you away. But there is nothing I can do or say to stop him. He is stubborn, and for some reason, he has his mind set on ignoring your existence.”

Cassian turned to face you, grabbing your hands in his, and implored, “But one thing I know for sure is that Azriel absolutely does not hate you. You are not a grain of sand; you are the whole fucking world to him. I‘m certain of it.”

“I want desperately to believe you,” you shook your head. “But I will not subject myself to pinning over him again.”

“You don’t have to. But please, don’t give up on him. Azriel doesn’t realise it, but he cannot live without you. You need to put some rationality in that stubborn brain of his.”

“I don’t understand what you’re asking me to do,” you cried. “He hates me!”

All Cassian could offer was the solace of his embrace, using his words to provide any semblance of comfort. That night, he escorted you home, staying until he witnessed the dimming lights in your bedroom. A pang in his heart persisted, echoing the soft cries that still reached him as he ascended into the night sky, determined to confront his brother.

~

The door slammed open, revealing the formidable General of the Night Court’s armies in all his imposing might. He stormed across the room, standing before his brother who sat on the bed. Shadows enveloped every corner, but Cassian paid no heed. Snarling, he demanded, “Wake up, Azriel. Snap out of this senseless nightmare you're subjecting her to.”

Azriel didn’t flinch at Cassian’s tone. “Is she okay?”

“Is she okay?” Cassian laughed bitterly, devoid of humor. "You have eyes; see for yourself. Does she look okay? She hasn't been eating well! The dark circles under her eyes are practically permanent black holes now! Her entire demeanor has changed! She used to smile so much, Azriel! She would joke and laugh—fuck, I can't even remember the last time I heard her laugh!”

Cassian's lip curled as he regarded Azriel, shrouded in shadows, his shoulders slumped and hands wringing together. His hair draped over his eyes as his head hung low, gaze fixed on the ground.

Sadness washed over Cassian at the sight of his brother. He hadn't intended to hurt him, but he didn't know how else to make him stop.

“Do you know how hurt she is?” Cassian inquired softly. “I’ve never seen someone cry so much. She's convinced that you hate her.”

“I don’t hate her,” Azriel’s hands curled into fists.

"It certainly seems like you do. Why are you doing this? Why push her away when she means so much to you?”

“Because she deserves better!” Azriel's shout reverberated through the room. The two Illyrian soldiers paused for a moment, startled by the outburst.

More shadows moved, wrapping around Azriel's body, swirling in an attempt to offer comfort to their master.

“That is a stupid fucking reason, Azriel.”

Azriel didn’t say anything.

“Why can’t you just let yourself be happy?”

"I can't find happiness at the expense of hers.”

“Did it ever occur to you that being with you makes her happy? Do you know that she adores you? She looks at you like you hung every fucking star in the sky!” Cassian exclaimed.

Azriel shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “She would be better off without me.”

Cassian growled. “If you truly think that, then you are a coward, Azriel.”

~

Azriel found himself immersed in a sea of despair, where the shadows stretched like ravenous tendrils, hungrily lapping at the edges of his consciousness. The inky abyss enveloped him, its depths swallowing any remnants of light, leaving only the haunting echoes of his own tortured thoughts.

As he lay there, a mere fragment of his former self, the darkness embraced him like a suffocating shroud. The cold, clammy fingers of anguish reached out, coiling around his very soul, pulling him deeper into the abyss of his own despair. It was as if the void had become an extension of his being, an inescapable prison where his torment echoed endlessly.

In the icy blackness, Azriel surrendered, allowing the shadows to consume him with a twisted sense of acceptance. His mind echoed with the haunting refrain of despair, a symphony of hopelessness that drowned out any flicker of light that might have dared to defy the encroaching darkness.

Just take me, he pleaded silently to the void. There is nothing left for me. His voice, though unspoken, resonated within the cavernous expanse of his desolation. He felt the weight of the Stygian black pressing against his chest, stealing the very breath from his lungs as it fed on the remnants of his shattered spirit.

His vision became an endless expanse of nothingness, the boundaries between reality and the consuming shadows blurring into a chaotic dance of despair. Azriel's world was reduced to the spectral play of shadows, each one a manifestation of the pain etched into the fabric of his existence.

In this desolate realm, time lost its meaning, and Azriel became a mere silhouette adrift in the cosmic void. The shadows, now an extension of his suffering, moved with a malevolent purpose, wrapping around him like serpents, their tendrils tightening their grip on his very essence.

The echo of his own silent screams reverberated through the emptiness, a testament to the profound isolation that had become his reality. The blackness had not only consumed his surroundings but had become an integral part of him, a twisted symbiosis that left him drowning in the depths of his own anguish.

A faint glimmer of light appeared on the horizon. She, a beacon of hope and warmth, entered his desolate realm like a sunrise cutting through the long night. As Azriel lay ensnared by the suffocating shadows, he felt a gentle touch, a celestial force tugging at the tendrils of despair that gripped him.

The shadows recoiled, making way for the incandescent glow she emanated. The void, once absolute, now quivered in the face of her radiant light.

Azriel reached out to her, his fingers trembling in the frigid air.

With each step toward her, Azriel felt the weight of the shadows lifting, the oppressive darkness giving way to the delicate radiance she brought with her. The void, once an impenetrable fortress, now cracked and crumbled under the influence of her unwavering light.

She was his anchor, luring him from the abyss with a gentle yet unyielding force.

She was so close now, and Azriel leaped forward to grab her. But it was as if the very act of reaching out only pushed her farther away.

He was determined to bridge the gap that separated them. With every ounce of strength in his being, Azriel lunged forward, reaching for the figure before him. Her form shimmered like a mirage, teasing him with the illusion of proximity. His fingers grazed the wisps of her radiance, but she slipped through his grasp like threads of gossamer carried away by a gentle breeze.

Desperation etched across his face. Each attempt to seize her felt like an agonizing stretch, a test of endurance against the intangible. The void that had once consumed him now echoed with the sound of his yearning, the silence broken only by the echoes of his futile attempts.

She was just out of reach yet tantalizingly close. The intensity of his desire to hold onto the light that had become his salvation. But every leap, every outstretched hand, only propelled her further into the unreachable distance.

As Azriel relentlessly pursued the elusive figure of light, she suddenly appeared behind an unexpected barrier— a towering wall of fire, dancing with flickering flames that cast an ominous glow. A hushed gasp escaped him as the heat washed over him, and he felt the phantom sensation of the fire on his hands.

Frozen in hesitation, Azriel stared at the formidable barrier before him. The flames swirled and crackled, forming an impenetrable obstacle between him and the guiding light he so desperately sought. The radiant figure on the other side seemed to glow even more brilliantly, as if testing his resolve, waiting for him to make a choice.

The fear of the fire, both real and imagined, gripped Azriel. It whispered to him of pain and uncertainty, cautioning against taking the perilous step required to reach the one who held the key to his redemption. The scars of his past, etched deep into his soul, resurfaced as vivid memories, adding weight to the chains that bound him.

Yet, in the flickering shadows, realization slowly dawned upon Azriel. The fire was not a true barrier; it was a manifestation of his own fears, a reflection of the walls he had built within himself. He understood that the flames were not meant to harm him physically but rather represented the emotional hurdles he needed to overcome.

He looked at her, the guiding light, with newfound clarity. She stood patiently, her luminosity undiminished, her eyes reflecting a mixture of understanding and encouragement. It was then that Azriel recognized the self-imposed limitations that had kept him in the shadows, a cowering fool unable to face his own fears and emotions.

In that moment of profound realization, Azriel understood that he had been punishing her for his own inadequacies, projecting his fears onto the external world. The flames were a metaphor for his inner turmoil, a manifestation of the barriers he had constructed to shield himself from vulnerability.

With a deep breath, Azriel took a step forward, the fire licking at the edges of his consciousness. The phantom warmth intensified, and his hands trembled as if about to be engulfed by the very flames he feared. Yet, he pressed on, determined to break free from the self-imposed chains.

He took the leap of faith, jumping toward the fire, letting it swallow him whole.

~

A desperate pounding echoed through your door, but it barely registered as you huddled in your sheets, staring at the ceiling above you in silent rumination. The aftermath of tears had left your eyes puffy, and throat scratchy, yet you welcomed the physical pain as a reprieve from the ache in your heart.

The relentless assault on your door continued, accompanied by frantic shouts of your name. The voice pierced through your contemplation, and you shot up, instantly recognizing it.

Azriel.

A stray shadow slithered up your arm, its cool touch and feather-like caresses sending shivers up your spine.

“Hello,” you whispered.

It tightened around your wrist, urging you to respond to the male at your door.

“But he hurts me,” you confessed, your voice cracking.

The shadow reacted wildly, darting around the room like a rabid creature. You chased after it as it slipped under the door, returning to its owner who continued knocking.

Your name came out of Azriel’s mouth like a plea. “Please open the door. We have to talk.”

“We don’t have to do anything,” you seethed. “I don’t have to do anything for you.”

“I know, but I have to try,” there was a rabid sort of desperation that laced his voice. “I have to try before I regret never fighting for you, for us.”

You ripped open your door, relishing in the way the Shadowsinger stumbled and stared at your bloodshot eyes.

“Us?” You spat. “There is no ‘us’, Azriel. You made sure of that when you ignored my presence everyday since Rhys returned.”

His attempt to explain was met with your anger. “You are truly cruel to have done that to me! To have led me on, treating me as if I were a child’s toy, being used for comfort. That’s what it was, wasn’t it? You took advantage of me being vulnerable and used me as a distraction!”

Azriel recoiled. “No, that wasn’t the case at all. But I can’t believe you feel that way.”

“It wasn’t that difficult. Not when you spent every ounce of your energy set on making me feel like nothing to you.” A tear dribbled down your cheek and you hastily wiped it away, unaware that you had any more tears to cry.

“No, no, no, no,” His hand reached out to grab you but you flinched away. Seeing your rejection, he clenched his fist, jaw ticking. His head fell and he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

You stayed silent.

“I’m so so so sorry for being such an idiot. And I have an explanation for it,” he sighed. “It isn’t a good one, but… I just…”

“Tell me,” you dared a look at him. His shoulders were slumped, eyes shining with unshed tears. His fists still clenched by his sides and shadows swirled widely around him. “Tell me what was so important that you treated me that way.”

“I was scared,” he mumbled. “I projected my fears on to you, and convinced myself that it would be better to stay away…”

His eyes shut, as if his next words hurt him.

“You are everything to me. Next to you, I am just a speck of dust. How could I ever compare to you? How could I ever be worthy of you? I knew that, and you would have rejected me for it. So I ran. I ran from the inevitable rejection that you would offer me instead of being truthful. But I am being truthful now. I… I have feelings for you.”

You fixated on him with an incredulous stare, your mouth hanging open, and your eyes widened to the point of bulging. The turbulent events of the night had left you in a state of disarray, questioning the boundaries between reality and illusion. The disbelief lingered, casting a surreal hue over the moment, as if you were trapped in a waking dream, uncertain if the scene playing out before you was tangible or a mere figment of your imagination.

You lifted your finger, reaching out towards the Illyrian male in front of you. Then, you poked him.

Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you poked his cheek a second time. He called out your name. “What’s going on?”

“Is this real?” You breathed deeply. “You like me?”

“Why?”

“I like you too, dumbass,” you poked him a little harder this time. “You stupid, insufferable, crazy boy! What are you even talking about? What is this nonsense about you being unworthy? Do you really think that way? Is that why you distanced yourself for so long?”

Hazel eyes looked into yours and a smile appeared on Azriel’s face. He didn’t seem to hear the latter part of what you said, only repeating, “You like me too?”

“Why the fuck else would I care so much that you were ignoring me?” you retorted, breaking the tension with a mix of exasperation and affection.

Azriel's smile grew wider, and a genuine happiness radiated from him. The shadows around him seemed to dance with joy, mirroring the newfound light in his eyes. He took a step closer, cautiously, as if afraid you might change your mind.

"I thought I ruined everything," he admitted, vulnerability coloring his voice. "I never meant to hurt you. I just... I didn't know how to handle it."

As you locked eyes with him, a subtle transformation swept over your emotions. The initial flame of anger, fueled by the hurt and betrayal, began to wane. In its place, a newfound understanding blossomed, ignited by the sincerity that radiated from Azriel's gaze. His eyes, once a source of frustration, now mirrored a depth of earnestness that stirred something within you.

The recognition of sincerity and the unraveling of the pain created an opening, a crack in the emotional shield you had put up in self-defense. Amidst the crumbling walls, a glimmer of possibility emerged. The realization dawned that, just maybe, there was a chance for understanding and healing.

Azriel reached out, tentatively brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "I messed up, but I want to make it right. I want to be there for you, to be more than just a friend."

The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, but this time it was different— it was a comforting shiver, a connection forming between two souls. The shadows around you seemed to intertwine, creating a tapestry of emotions that spoke of forgiveness and acceptance.

"I'm willing to give it a try," you said, your voice softer now. "But no more running, no more hiding. We face whatever comes together."

Azriel nodded, relief washing over him. The two of you stood there, bathed in the soft glow of understanding and the possibility of something new.

As you allowed him into your space, the shadows now embraced you both, merging into a unified dance. The pain of the past began to transform into a shared strength, a foundation upon which a new beginning could be built.

And so, you and Azriel embarked on a journey together, navigating the complexities of your feelings and the challenges ahead. The door, once a barrier between you, now stood open, a symbol of the willingness to face the unknown hand in hand.

[metalotaku-da]

danny phantom x dc prompt ideas: weather wizard addition.

this comes to you thanks to my big story pieces comment section. i think if the phandom knew more of this characters background and i thought it was more commonly known. it would have more of a field day. same with gotham academy >.> but that is for another post.

alright weather wizard, is a flash villain and a member of the rogues.

mark mardon. is a thief and criminal who escapes from prison and fleas to his brothers house. where he believes he found his brother dead and his weather experiments. including the weather wand which he takes and starts his alias crime as weather wizard. it is hinted at in the comics he actually killed his brother and stole his work. it is believed he had a confrontation with his brother over his prison break, the argument and heightened emotions triggered mark's meta gene and he accidently killed his brother when his powers manifested. and he blocked out that memory. and it is also why he can't use his weather powers without the wand. as a mental block. because he does have powers without the wand.

later on he finds out he has a son with a cop he had relations with. it is known josh is his son because he has weather powers. mark in a fit of rage and jealousy over the his son's powers kidnaps him, with plans to DISSECT AND EXPERIMENT ON HIM TO FIND OUT HOW HIS POWERS WORK SO HE CAN GET THEM. he has a break down though over it before he can go through with it. and wishes his son had someone besides him as a father, because he deserves someone better.

other facts of note: josh was thought to be wally's kid till he got his powers. lady cop has batman's taste. her name is julie.

the rogues have strict rules against hurting kids.

weather wizard killed impulse breaking this rule. though he was tricked.

so yes phandom. here are some options i've brain stormed. please add more ideas for others to knaw on.

1: danny has escaped the fentons/and or giw. flees to central city and weather wizard finds this vivisected terrified kid. and man does it hit his guilt and crazy. this could have been his son. he was going to do this to his child. and it's his redemption/penance to protect this child to make up for his sins. could have a mental break and think he actually did this danny and danny is his son josh too. so many ways to go.

2: other rogues find him, after hearing about ww kidnapping his son and think danny is his son who escaped from his injuries and go on revenge spree for this kid in mistaken idenity. which has funny and dark ways it can go.

3: danny meets ww or his son. and hears how ww couldn't go through with it. maybe from young justice. impulse or members of the league, other rogues dealers choice. danny just dieing a little on the inside like, how come your parent could stop himself with love when he never met you, but my parents raised me and still didn't love me enough not to. the angst protentional here is so high.

4: jazz could work at the facility treating mark. her point of view from treating a person who is so much like her parents but who showed their love for their child in the end. when hers couldn't move past their goals and see their child they claimed to love. could add in she's got a de-aged danny/dannies because of it. to see what it could have been if her parents had been better. stronger. she could get feelings. (totally thinking on par with harley/joker kind of but not that dark.) where mark actually like her and cares for her. could be one-sided. and the giw find them mark breaks out cause she and or kids are in danger and saves them.

5:mix and match the above.

please add more

[paracosm-draw]

Promptober Day 1 - Freckles ☄️

Let's begin this challenge with two prompts in one day while I still have the time and inspiration !! 😌

This one is not very NSFW, starting soft with Anakin not very Jedi-ish daydreams ✨

~~~

Anakin was staring. 

He's been told many times that it was not polite. That his gaze was too intense, too uncomfortable when it landed on people. 

He couldn’t help it. When something caught his attention he had to put his whole focus onto it, examining, scrutinizing, dissecting until he could make sense, understand and classify in his brain. 

The object of his current attention lies on Obi-Wan’s face in the shape of tiny droplets of liquid bronze, as if the Sun had lowered itself from the sky to kiss his skin, leaving trails of fire on his nose, cheeks and forehead. It’s a beautiful thing to witness them blooming when the first sun rays pierce from behind the light clouds, bright and strong, bringing promises of warmth for the months to come. It’s as if they herald the coming of summer, even more surely than the elder’s predictions. 

“Do I have something on my face ?” 

Anakin is abruptly drawn from his contemplation by his Master’s amused tone. Obi-Wan is looking at him with raised eyebrows, probably expecting an explanation about why he’s creepily staring at him instead of meditating like he’s supposed to do. 

“Uh, yes.” He replies dumbly. 

“Yes ?” Obi-Wan frowns and raises a hand to his face, only to be stopped halfway by Anakin’s inaudible mumbling. “Mmh ?” 

“I- I said I- I love your freckles.” He stutters, feeling an embarrassing blush creeping up his neck and spreading all the way to his face, although not embarrassing enough to keep his mouth shut, apparently. “It’s very pretty. They, uh- They suit you.” 

Obi-Wan looks at him with slightly wide eyes, looking a bit confused by the random compliment. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, clearing his throat in the process. 

“I- Thank you, Anakin. It’s… That’s nice of you.” 

An awkward silence spreads between them after that, and Anakin realizes he has started staring again. Before he can stop himself he wonders if Obi-Wan’s tunics hide some more. He’s always so frustratingly covered, it’s hard to tell. 

He wishes he could see more. For scientific purposes, of course. He’s nothing if not rigorous. 

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s voice brings him back to reality once more. “Focus. And be mindful of your thoughts… Please.” 

His Master’s cheekbones are a shade darker and Anakin bites his tongue not to grin at that endearing vision. Instead he closes his eyes, trying to focus on their session. Only… His mind wanders quickly towards pale skin and pretty freckles again. 

He imagines following their path with his finger, from the bridge of Obi-Wan’s nose to the hollow of his throat, following them like a star map, tracing constellations on his skin as he goes down. He would have to slide his fingers under the tight lapels of his inner tunic, pushing the tabard aside to unveil a bare shoulder and continue his path. He’s almost certain this part of Obi-Wan’s body is also splattered with little sun stains even though he rarely exposes himself. At this point he would have to make a choice ; exploring the plane of his back or scouting down his chest, stripping him from his layers of fabric in any case. 

It might be a childish fantasy but the idea of discarding Obi-Wan from his clothes, to have him undressed for his eyes only is something that always ignites a little fire inside Anakin’s belly. He saw him one time, in a sleeveless shirt on a particularly hot day and the sight of his bare arms was sufficient to fuel his imagination for the next couple of weeks. 

But he’s drifting away from the topic, and from Obi-Wan’s naked chest and stomach that his mind has to create for lack of factual evidence.

He wonders if he could count every single one of the freckles adorning his body. If he could kiss every single one of them. He feels like his skin would taste like a hot summer day, like warmth and salt and honey. He wonders foolishly if Obi-Wan would let him drag his tongue across the shapes of his body, connecting the dots like a child’s play. He would take all the time in the world, hating the idea of missing one. 

He would learn their pattern, archiving them in his mind one kiss after another until they replace the stars when he closes his eyes. His own private galaxy. 

Someone clears his throat loud enough to pull Anakin from his daydream, and when he opens his eyes, Obi-Wan is standing in front of him, face flushed red to the roots of his hair. 

“We’ll stop the session here. We’ll take it back tomorrow.” He says quickly before turning on his heels and walking towards the door, readjusting the collar of his tunic on the way. 

Anakin stays on the floor, watching him leave pressingly with a bit of confusion. What did he do this time ? 

Oh.

 Oh. 

He might have forgotten to shield his thoughts. 

[fxlling13]

I do, Not.

Whittaker!Master x (fem)reader

Synopsis: The Master joins you as a plus one to your cousins wedding, unaware of how awful your family actually is.

Warnings: Body shaming, bad language, suggestive content, homophobia, bullying behaviour.

WC: 8.5k

Light glided up and down the pillar in the centre of the console, moving at a regular pace, an indicator that you were adrift in space. There was a steady rumble in the air, the ships engine on auto. The Doctor was rambling, you weren’t sure what about as you had zoned out many minutes prior. But he was exited. Maybe it was your next trip? Or a new planet? Perhaps he’d found an ancient artefact and wanted to dissect it. Either way, you hadn’t been paying any attention. Your eyes were fixated on the metallic floor, brain going at a thousand miles per hour.

“-don’t you both agree?” The Doctors voice slowly filtered back into your head. Blinking a few times, you looked up, trying not to make your confusion obvious.

“Oh yeah of course. That was the best option, right (y/n)?” The Master looked over at you from her seat by the console, her face unreadable.

“R-right. Yeah.” You said unconvincingly, playing with your fingers. She raised her brows, looking you up and down as if to scan you. You just averted your eyes.

“Good. Good. So, I’ll drop you back off at home, (y/n)? Or should I wait till after you’ve slept?” The Doctor asked, smiling at you warmly. Your heart sunk a little at the idea, time was not on your side at all.

“After I’ve slept. If that’s alright?”

“Of course it is. You go and rest okay?” He grinned, patting your shoulder affectionately. You gave him a tight lipped smile, turning and heading up the steps, to find your room. Thankfully, the tardis had moved it closer for you. Once inside, you sat yourself on the plush bed and put your head in your hands. With your anxiety through the roof, you let out a shallow breath and gripped the roots of your hair hard. You really didn’t want to go, didn’t want to force yourself to act a certain way, just to appease your family. If you thought too hard, you knew you’d get overly emotionally and tried to regulate your mind. It was one day. You could survive one day. Right? Out of nowhere, hands landed on your own, carefully pulling them away from your head.

“Are you trying to pull your hair out?” The Master sounded both concerned and amused, looking down at you. Not having heard her come in, you gaped at her for a moment. She ran her fingers through your hair, straightening it out. “What’s wrong?” Her question caught you even more off guard, forcing you to smile.

“Nothing.” She just looked at you with a straight face, clearly seeing past your lie.

“You’ve been out of it all week. You nearly got lost yesterday because you weren’t listening to us.” The Master started, taking a seat beside you. “And I know The Doctor loves to chat, but you always listen. You’re always engaged. You’re far too nice not to be. So what’s wrong?” Knowing you had been caught out, you stared down at your lap in defeat.

“It’s stupid.” You muttered, thinking that the Timelady would just laugh at your woes.

“That’s for me to decide.” She replied, golden eyes never leaving you. Slowly, you turned yourself to face her, sitting criss-cross and occupying yourself with a loose thread on your navy sheets.

“I have to go to my cousins wedding when I go home.” You begun, nail catching the thread right to pull it out.

“Right? So what’s the issue?” The Master pressed, observing your body language.

“We don’t get along. At all. It’s complicated.”

“I see. If you don’t get on, why are you going?”

“I’m in the bridal party. Her mum, my auntie, practically forced her to put me as a bridesmaid.” You explained, straightening your back and looking at the blonde once again. “She’s really difficult to deal with. And really old fashioned. She even tried to force me to wear a really ugly dress but I fought her on that.”

“Have you tried hitting her?” The Masters question made you giggle, shaking your head. “It might work.”

“Yeah I’ll keep that in mind.” You said, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Can’t you take someone with you?” The Master asked, trying to bring light to your situation. You just groaned, flopping back against your pillows.

“That’s the problem. I can bring a plus one, I just don’t have anyone.”

“Why not take your precious Doctor. You know he loves a wedding.” She grumbled pointedly.

“First of all, he’s not ‘my’ Doctor. Secondly, no. He’s far too boisterous, would cause more issues.” Your voice grew quiet, closing your eyes and being saddened by the situation. Raising from spot, The Master walked around the bed and sat on the free side. She leant closer to you, admiring your features silently.

“What about me?” You shot up, peering at her a bit baffled.

“What about you?”

“Well. I’ll go with you.” She said calmly, as if it was easy. As if it were a normal thing for a woman like her to do.

“You’d go? To a human wedding?”

“Why not?” She almost seemed offended, putting her hands behind her head.

“Humans?” You chortled, shocked at her laid back approach to it.

“I don’t care about them. I’d be going to keep you company.” The Master propped up the pillows behind her, sitting back comfortably. Preying that your cheeks were staying their natural colour, you glanced at her again.

“You’ll dress up?”

“Come now, you know I love to do that.” Okay, she had a point there.

“You’ll follow the time schedule?”

“Just tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it.” The Master turned her head to look at you with a smile. Now you were blushing, swallowing hard.

“You’d have to go in alone, because I’m in the bridal party. So you’d have to get ready and find your seat without me.” You told her, settling down once again. She hummed and nod, lying on her side to face you.

“That’s fine.”

“Really? You’ll go with me?” You were unsure, thinking maybe she was just pulling your leg. The woman reached across, brushing your hair behind your shoulder.

“Of course I will.” She tapped your nose softly, earning a bashful smile from you in return. “So tell me, what’s the theme sweetheart?” Her hand caressed your cheek, your breath catching slightly. The Master had always been touchy with you, and it was no secret that you loved it. At home, you had always felt touch-starved, coming from a more private family. From people who kept themselves to themselves, and their emotions under lock and key.

“Hm? Winter wonderland.” You said, gazing up at her happily. “I think she’s having it in a country manor. From the pictures, everything was white and covered in fake snow.”

“Sounds tacky.” The Master muttered, thumb rolling over the apple of your cheek slowly. Your skin went warm beneath her touch.

“The inside looks nice, it’s really old. If you ignore the plastic winter creatures she’s going to put up.” You both laughed.

“Dress code?” She then asked, remembering what you said earlier.

“Obviously it’s evening wear. Suits, dresses, whatever you feel comfortable in.” You let yourself consider the woman next to you. “It’s winter colours. So reds? Maroon? Plum? You’d look pretty in plum…” you trailed off, thinking out loud. She smirked, noticing your mind slipping elsewhere. Gripping your chin between her finger and thumb, she brought your attention back to her.

“Oh? Would I now?” Her smug tone made you realise what you had just said, your eyes growing wider. “Are you flirting with me, love?” The Master chuckled, leaning inanely close to your face. Panicking slightly, you scooted away and got up off the bed. She looked at you bemused.

“N-no of course not.” You looked down at the carpet, scared of the disgust that would be sent your way if she thought you were. “I wouldn’t..don’t worry.” The Master just looked at you with pure confusion, sitting herself upright.

“You know it’s okay if you were right?” She reassured. You just nod, grabbing your nightwear and heading into the bathroom to change.

———

You had given The Master all the information she needed. Time. Date. Place. Everything she needed to know. You were half convinced she wouldn’t even show up, but held out hope regardless. Once The Doctor had dropped you home, you gathered everything you would need and called a cab.

The manor was indeed already decorated, fitted with fake holly along all of the windows. Pine trees lined the drive in, the ground covered with white stones. Lifting your duffle bag, you walked inside and up into the bridal suite. You knocked, a younger blonde woman letting you in. You recognised her to be your cousins long time friend.

“Oh there you are. Hurry up and get dressed.” Your cousin, Beth, hardly looked at you, motioning to a door at the back of the room. She was in the middle of having her long, mouse-brown hair curled. Doing as you were told, you stepped into the lavish bathroom, admiring the floral wallpaper. Carefully, you pulled out your dress and stepped into it. The deep red satin fit you perfectly, the zip easy to fasten. With off the shoulder sleeves, the front having a v-cut neckline. There were lace details lining the long dress, the satin material flowing down your body perfectly. Even with a slit up the left thigh, the dress was classy and sweet. After fastening your heels, you left the bathroom. Beth turned, jaw clenching as she saw you.

“Sit. You need your hair done.” Her voice was dry, the lady doing her makeup having to stop momentarily. Sitting yourself down, you chose a simple style and let the worker do your hair. Everyone was chatting, a clear excitement floating around the room. You didn’t know any of them, only your cousin who was ignoring your presence. Already, you felt so out of place, sitting in silence whilst your face was made up.

“You look really pretty.” The lady applying your lipstick spoke quietly, your eyes growing in surprise. You smiled at her,

“Thank you.” Your voice was low, but clearly showed your emotions. Beth stood, two friends helping her into the oversized gown she called a wedding dress. Another bridesmaid handed her a bouquet of bright red roses, a stark contrast to all the white, but matching her lips. You were handed a bunch of poinsettia, tied with white ribbon.

“Don’t slouch or anything, (y/n). I don’t need you ruining the aesthetic.” Beth drawled, allowing someone to clip her veil in. You said nothing, just watching her and waiting. You knew eventually it would start, the insults and jabs. “Then again, you’re looking a little peaky. Lost weight?” The girls all laughed, apart from the stylists that was. Your hands moved to cover your middle self consciously.

“Maybe?” You mumbled, trying not to show any effect. Beth giggled patronisingly, making her way over to you. She looked you up and down with disgust, sucking on her teeth slight.

“I’d say just sit still and look pretty, but you can’t even do that.” Again, her little tribe began to laugh, as you stood there with shame. From the corner of your eye, you could see the make up artist looking at you with pity. Just then, your auntie burst into the room, a big smile on her face as she rushed to her daughter. You could hear her saying how beautiful she looked and had an internal conflict. It wasn’t your aunts fault, she didn’t know how Beth acted towards you. Still, it annoyed you.

“Oh and (y/n) don’t you look nice. I’m happy you’re here.” Your aunt gave you a quick hug before checking a message on her phone. “Twenty minutes people. Shall we head down and wait in the lounge?” She ushered everyone down the stairs, through some double doors and into a well decorated room. There were three couches and two chairs, all black velvet. Taking one of the chairs, you pulled out your phone, seeing that The Doctor had been spamming you with wedding themed gifs. You just scoffed to yourself, scrolling through them. Then your phone pinged, The Master.

Master: though I don’t like this stupid human technology, I’m going to use it for your sake. How is everything this morning?

Even her texts were formal, you thought whilst quickly typing a reply.

Me: stressful but fine. Just waiting for the groom I think. Are you here?

Master: of course I am. Right at the back of the hall. There’s an old man next to me. I don’t like him.

Me: what why?

Master: he smells like an old shoe cupboard. I’m thinking of spraying him with my perfume.

Smiling to yourself, you shook your head as your thumbs moved across the keypad.

Me: let’s not. I’m sure you can cope for an hour.

Master: an hour?! No, I think I may have to douse him in the stuff.

Me: as funny as that would be, please don’t.

Master: very well. The things I do for you, right sweetheart?

Her message made your cheeks grow red, your lip catching between your teeth.

Me: I am your favourite, right?

After the previous night, the way she had responded to your accidental flirting, you decided to test the waters. Just to see if she’d play along or be put off by it.

Master: but of course my dear, why else would I surround myself with silly little humans.

Your smile grew embarrassingly large, watching the small bubbles on screen. Who knew The Master could be so charming?

Master: besides, you don’t smell.

Me: that’s good to know.

Master: why do the women here wear such odd hats?

Me: it’s British wedding attire, they’re called fascinators. I don’t get it either

Master: they’re bigger than them. And so brightly coloured. Why do they have such big feathers and round things on them?

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself, a hand coming to cover your mouth.

Me: sounds like you’re having fun, judging everyone.

Master: well, you’re not here so how else can I entertain myself.

Me: you make me sound like a toy.

Master: not at all, sweetheart. I merely enjoy your company, is that such a crime?

Again, you were blushing, staring at the black text dumbly. How could she have such an impact on you, when she wasn’t even with you.

“Who you texting, (y/n)? Your boyfriend?” One girl jeered, the entourage cackling in unison. You peered over at them, your mood souring in a second.

“Don’t be silly, as if anyone would ever date that.” Beth taunted, earning more laughs from her minions. Hastily, you put your phone into your bag, sitting yourself straighter. Seeing the time, Beth made everyone stand heading towards the doors. Giving you one last glare, she muttered “don’t walk too fast, your scrawny legs might snap.” With a sickening smile, she stood by her father and linked his arm. He was always a silent man, he saw his daughter’s behaviour but never cared. You got in line, holding the flowers so tight you thought their stems might break. Alas, they did not and you followed the other bridesmaids down the aisle, classical music guiding everyone along. You stood in formation, listening to the exchange of vows doing your best to keep a smile plastered on your face. It seemed to go on for hours, their self-made vows boring you half to death. Eventually, they said ‘I do’ and sealed their marriage with a far too long kiss, walking back down the aisle hand in hand.

———

Your aunt and uncle stood with you, waiting by a set of white French doors, for the happy couple to come along. It was freezing outside, but you three were forced to endure the November wind. All the guests were inside the main hall, being shown to their seats and allowed to get drinks.

“Oh my love!” Your aunt sounded happy, hugging the newly weds. You said nothing, just following your family inside when they were announced. Beth was making a scene for herself, waving at the crowd as if she were a celebrity. Rolling your eyes, you checked the list for your table number. Of course, you were with your family, on the main round table in the centre of the room. You spotted that your ‘plus one’ assigned the seat next to you, thankfully. Beth passed you, her hip budging you harder than needed. You stumbled to the side, allowing the taller to gaze at her guest list, as if she needed to.

“Don’t rush, you won’t be missed.” She spat, walking off without a care. Even though you’d always been treated that way from her, it made your chest hurt. You were growing tired of it. A hand landed on your shoulder, making you turn on the spot. You instantly relaxed, seeing The Master. She was looking you over with worry, a scowl on her features.

“I’ve been looking for you, did she really make you wait? Just so she could make that lacklustre entrance?” She scoffed, shaking her head. However, you found yourself thoroughly distracted, her appearance shocking you. Her usually straight hair had a slight curl to it, done with precision. She wore a crimson suit, with wide-leg pants and blazer sleeves turned up twice. Her shirt, crisp and white, was fastened with a loose red tie. More to the point, her lips were tainted like a candy apple, tempting you cruelly. “Love?” She trailed her hand down your arm, brining you out of your trance.

“S-sorry, what?” You stuttered, blinking quickly. The Master smirked, stepping closer and letting her eyes wander over your figure.

“Wow, look at you.” She grinned not shy about admiring you. You averted your eyes, looking to the side to escape her vision.

“Beautiful.”

“Awful-“ you both spoke at the same time, coming to look at each other with surprise. The Master frowned, tilting her head a little.

“What?” She half laughed, looking you over once more. “Awful? How can you possibly think that? You look gorgeous.” Her manicured hand cupped your cheek, lips curling up. You blushed, leaning into her touch naturally.

“I don’t agree, but thank you.” You mumbled, causing the woman to raise her brows.

“Would I lie to you?” She asked.

“Well, no but-“

“Exactly, you look devine. And I’ll give hell to anyone who says otherwise. Okay sweetheart?” The Master finally made you smile, nodding your head shyly. “Let’s find our seats shall we, I’m parched.”

After finding your seats, The Master looked around the room with a judging gaze.

“Everyone’s so…chirpy.”

“I think you mean, happy?” You laughed, facing her properly. She just rolled her eyes, leaning back on the mahogany seat and resting her hand on the top of your chair. For a moment, The Master just looked at you, her eyes softer than normal.

“What? What is it?” You felt small, like an ant compared to her. She exuded confidence and poise, making even the toughest men tremble. It was one of the things that drew you to her, her almost protective aura.

“I’m just admiring you, love.” She murmured, moving to twirl the front strand of your hair. Your face felt hot suddenly. “I like your hair, and your make up, it looks good.” The Master continued, not helping your racing heart at all.

“A stylist did it.” Was all you could get out, unsure of how to react to her compliments.

“Well, they did an amazing job. It’s hard to make perfection more perfect.” Your hands came up, covering your face in an instant. How could she say something like that so casually? She chuckled, stroking the back of your head.

“You can’t just say that.” You whined, peeking out at her.

“What? The truth? Of course I can, in fact, it’s very easy.” The Master grinned, giving you a cheeky wink. You just laughed, hitting her arm playfully. “I’ll go and get us a drink, okay love?” You bobbed your head, watching her leave your side and head across the room. A witch-like laughter drew closer, almost making you wince. It was Beth, and her poor husband, taking their seats two down from you. Her voice was loud and obnoxious, like nails on a chalkboard. She was boasting about her big day, clinging to her partners arm as if he’d vanish. Though, you wouldn’t blame him if he did.

“Enjoying your afternoon alone?” Beth asked, leaning over to you with a false smile. Ignoring her, you looked back into the crowd for The Master. “It’s a shame you didn’t go with the dress I picked for you. It would have given you a figure.” She said, grimacing as she looked at you. Sighing, you faced her with a blank expression. Beth put her hands up in defence.

“Look, I’m just saying. You look like a twig. That dress would have given you hips.” She exasperated.

“It was poofy and ridiculous. Plus, it was bright, bright red. I would have looked stupid.” You huffed pointedly.

“You don’t need any help there.” Beth spoke under her breath, crossing her leg and leering at you. “I think you look stupid in that dress if I’m honest. Why wear low cut when you have no tits to show off?” She laughed, pointing at you as if you weren’t there. A lump formed in your throat, crossing your arms over your chest. “(Y/n) you look like a little boy. I’m not trying to be rude, it’s just facts. You should really gain weight if you ever want a boyfriend.” She chastised, her faux advice hitting you twice in the gut. Swallowing thickly, you dipped your head, gripping the fabric of your dress. “I’m assuming you came alone? Dumb question actually, of course you d-“ Beth paused, surprise taking over. Behind you, you felt the presence of someone sitting down.

“Here’s your drink.” The Master said, paying no mind to your cousin. It felt as though your lips were glued shut. The atmosphere was tense, the blonde beside you finally looking at Beth.

“Sorry, you are?”

“You can just call me, O.” The Master shook her hand firmly, the other scoffing a laugh.

“O? That’s a name?”

“Well obviously not, it’s a nickname. But it’s all you need to know.” Beth was taken aback by The Masters blunt attitude, but you didn’t care.

“Right. And how do you know (y/n)?”

“We worked together…” You answered, having already thought about it earlier. You’d known you had to be well prepared, couldn’t go around telling people she was an alien.

“Oh in your stupid little science job?” Beth sipped at her wine, the drink staining her top lip. You inhaled deeply, relived when Beth turned her attention to her friends. Blinking fast, you flinched when The Master placed a hand on your shoulder. Looking at her, you found her seemingly annoyed.

“Does she always talk to you like that?” She questioned, but you couldn’t respond. She hadn’t heard everything and you didn’t want to fuss over nothing. Your silence worried her. The Master brought you to face her, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“That’s a yes then. Ignore her, she looks like a pastry.” That comment made you laugh, picking up your fruity drink. Shuffling your chair closer, you gazed up at her sadly.

“You can distract me right?” Your voice was pouty, eyes glossed over. The Master felt her breath hitch, your innocent face doing things to her. She caressed your cheek lovingly.

“Of course, come here.” You didn’t need to be told twice, allowing her to wrap an arm around you and pull you back into her chest. With your back resting against her front, The Master let her arm hold around your waist, landing on your hip. Remembering your cousins words, you carefully moved her hand off of your hip-bone. The Master noticed immediately, looking down at you confused. Closing your eyes, you let out a breath and let your head fall back onto her shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re here, I don’t think I’d cope without you.” You mumbled, wetting your lips.

“You flatter me, love.” The Master sipped her short, “I’m not going anywhere don’t you worry.” She assured you, your eyes opening and looking right at her. You smiled shyly, not minding as her hand returned to its original spot. Drawing shapes on your hip, The Masters hazel eyes flickered down to your lips, just for a second before moving away.

“Will there be food?”

“Yeah look.” You reached forward, picking up a card from the middle of the table, then sitting back again. The Master took it from you, reading over the menu with a pleased hum.

“Sounds okay I suppose. I am quite peckish.” She spoke absentmindedly, eyes wandering around the room. Clearly, she was back to judging the guests again. It was funny to watch, the emotions on her face constantly changing. “Oh lord, that man is coming over.” Remembering her texts, you watched as an older gentleman waddled past and to the bride. You covered your mouth, tilting your head back and whispering.

“That’s her great uncle.” The Master made a small noise of recognition, her lips moving by your ear.

“That explains the smell.” You both laughed quietly, unaware of being watched.

———

After an hour of people mingling, everyone was made to sit and get ready for the food. The Master unfolded your cloth napkin, placing it over your lap neatly.

“How chivalrous.” You giggled, watching her do her own.

“I do try, love.” She may have been joking, but you had butterflies in your stomach regardless. Appetisers were placed in front of you, a trio of dips with different crudité and breads for dunking. Along side this was a small bowl of soup. It was a vibrant orange colour. Picking up your spoon, you tried some, soon pulling a face of disgust.

“Not to your taste?” The Master chortled, eating hers normally.

“I hate lentils.” You told her, moving the bowl aside and dipping the cucumber into some hummus. It was a light start to the meal, not that you minded. Thankfully, your auntie was talking to you now, telling you all about her life in retirement. You hardly noticed everything get cleared and the fresh cutlery get put down. The waiters went around putting the mains out, a seasonal roast. Who doesn’t love that? There were roasted rainbow carrots, large sprouts and parsnips. Along with the stuffing and crispy potato’s, there were two cuts of meat to choose from. After asking you, The Master put some on your plate before her own then sat back.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” She turned to you with a hint of amusement.

“Like what?”

“All soppy, every time I do something for you.” Her gaze softened as she looked at you, a genuine smile on her lips.

“Because I appreciate it.” You said simply, eating a small bite of your food. She beamed, giving your hand a small squeeze before turning to her own meal. The room was fairly quiet as people ate, apart from Beth of course. She was still going on with herself. Even her man looked tired of the constant word vomit. When finished, The Master leant over, her lips brushing your ear as she spoke.

“What happens now?” You shivered at the close proximity.

“Well i think they’re going to do speeches before dessert. Then I assume there will be dancing?” She nod at you, sitting back again. The plates were cleaned hastily, the room picking up again.

“So, O, how long have you known (y/n)?” Your aunt smiled at the blonde, but there was a sour feeling behind it.

“Over a year, we work together.” The Master lied, repeating what you had said earlier.

“Oh that’s lovely, we were just talking about their childhood.” She practically disregarded her, hands clasping together. You pressed your lips into a fine line, not having the best memories of your youth. “When they were little, they used to fight all the time. It was adorable.” Your auntie laughed, reminiscing happily. Beth looked over at you, smiling fakly. They were less than joyous memories, every family event was hell on earth. “They’ve always just been so different. Has (y/n) told you that Beth was a Pageant queen in London?” Your aunt gloated. The Master glanced at you before shaking her head. You rubbed at your face tiredly.

“She certainly hadn’t.”

“Oh yes! She won three years in a row. Oh I was so proud.” Beth grinned at her mother’s praise, still held up on her beauty queen title. “What was it you won, (y/n)? Best young uh…uhm…”

“It was just a junior writers competition.” You said quietly, head bowed in embarrassment. Beth snorted out a laugh, your chest tightening in shame.

“Oh yes that was it! You got your story published.”

“You did? That’s amazing.” The Master wrapped an arm around your shoulders, trying to bring you some comfort. You just scoffed.

“No it’s not.” Your voice was hardly above a whisper.

“She had one of those emo phases too. Oh they looked so silly next to each other. My Beth was in pink and (y/n) was all in black.” Both your Aunt and Beth were laughing, as you shrunk in on yourself.

“And remember when you had purple hair?” Beth jabbed, giggling into her hand. The Master kept her attention on you, rubbing your arm tenderly. Just when you thought that maybe she’d finished, Beth let out an excitable gasp. “You know what was the funniest phase you had?” You looked at her confused, unsure of where she was going with it. “That time you said you liked girls!” She cackled and you felt your heart drop. Your lips parted, mouth going dry instantly. “Don’t you remember mum?” Beth asked.

“Of course I do, that was a wild day. But she was just confused. Weren’t you dear? We don’t want to scare off your colleague.” Your aunt smiled at you, but you could see the unease in her eyes. Swallowing thickly, you nod slowly.

“I’m glad you’re not one of those at least. Disgusting.” Beth shivered as if repulsed, picking up her wine glass again.

“Yeah, thank god.” Your eyes started to sting with unshed tears, so you stood carefully and excused yourself. The master watched you make your exit, head shooting around to your cousin. She would have shot them, but knew you wouldn’t approve.

Icy winter air hit you as you stepped outside. You leant against the jagged brick wall, head falling back on it as you stared up at the darkening sky. Even though you tried, you couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. Everything was ruined now, she knew your dirty little secret. A part of you that you hid from everyone, including yourself. Sliding down the wall, you balled up your fists, hitting your head a few times as your breathing increased in pace. You should never have come. You could hear the door opening, heels clicking as they came closer. Something pressed to your side but you didn’t look, not even when a hand came to land on your knee.

“(Y/n)..?” The Master spoke gently, as if worried she’d scare you. Not responding, she thumbed your cold skin softly, letting you have a moment. Brining your head forward, you inhaled weakly.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, wiping under your eyes harshly.

“Look at me, (y/n).” The Master ordered with an authoritative timbre. Nervously, you looked up at the blonde with watery eyes. She frowned, tilting your chin towards her and letting out a breath.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because you’re going to think I’m disgusting.” You stuttered, sniffling and avoiding her intense, hazel eyes.

“What? What are you talking about?” She sounded puzzled, stroking your hair gingerly.

“Because of what she said-“

“Your cousin?” You nod at her, more tears seeping out the corner of your eyes. Seeing the distress you were in, The Master didn’t say another word. Instead, she pulled you into her warm embrace, arms encasing you protectively. You buried your face into the crook of her neck, deciding to worry about the repercussions later.

“Darling you have nothing to be sorry for.” She said sternly, running her fingers through your hair. “I know you said you didn’t get along. But you should told me how bad it was.”

“I didn’t want you to think I was being dramatic.” You admitted, nuzzling closer to her.

“Dramatic? They’re narcissistic, homophobic, pretentious assholes.” The Master spat, nails scratching against your scalp nicely. You gazed up at her.

“You don’t care?”

“About what?” She asked bemused, wiping your cheeks dry with faint movements.

“That I..like girls…” you struggled to get the words out, having an internal battle with yourself. The Master chuckled, holding your cheek tenderly.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been flirting with you for the past eighteen months. If anything, I’m happy.” Heat rose on your face, eyes widening.

“You have?” Your surprise made the woman laugh harder.

“Oh you’re cute. This is why you’re my favourite.” She simpered, twirling your hair. “Of course I have. And I’ve enjoyed every second of making you all red and flustered. It’s my favourite hobby.” Your heart was racing again, unable to take your eyes off of her. With a hum, she helped you to your feet, brushing off your dress.

“Thank you.” You smiled, making sure there was no dirt on your behind. You could still hear the party, a glass being clinked for attention. “They must be doing the speeches.” You commented, looking down and scuffing your heel against the stones. The dress slipped from your thigh, the slit leaving your leg out in the elements.

“I’m assuming we won’t miss much?”

“No. Just a bunch of ‘me me me’ coming from the bride and everyone boosting her ego.” You said, lip jutting out. The Master, ever confident, leant in close, her breath fanning your face.

“You taunt me, (y/n).” She spoke lowly, causing you to gulp.

“I do?” You asked, trying desperately not to look at her lips.

“You know you do. With your big, sad eyes and pouty lips.” Her thumb ran just under your bottom lip, causing them to part on instinct. “And this dress, leaving very little to the imagination.” Using her pointer finger, she traced the dip in the neckline. Goosebumps rose under her touch, your lip tucking between your teeth. She looked into your eyes smirking, her other hand slipping down your body to hold your hip.

“Tell me what else she’s said tonight.” The Master almost demanded, “because I know there’s more that you haven’t told me.”

“Promise me you won’t kill her?” You gave her your best puppy eyes, earning a reluctant nod. So, with a deep breath, you told her every insult that had been sent your way that day. With everything you said, you saw her temper rising, her hand tightened on your hip.

Her jaw was clenched,nostrils flaring slightly.

“Are you serious?” She spoke through gritted teeth, eyeing the door like a target.

“It’s fine-“

“It not fine, (y/n). She’s your family! It’s verbal abuse!” The Master was enraged, hand slipping into her pocket. “I don’t care, I’m going to turn her into a tiny doll, and stand on her until she’s just plastic dus-“ Thinking on the spot, your latched onto The Masters tie, yanking her forward and crashing your lips together. Dropping her TCE back into her blazer, she kissed back with fervour, holding your waist tightly. You wound your arms around her neck, drawing back a little.

“It’s fine. After tonight I’m not going to contact them for as long as possible.” You mumbled, happy that your spur of the moment decision had worked. The Master rested her forehead against your own, holding your cheek feebly. Loud clapping came from inside but you both paid no mind, occupied with each other.

“I hope you don’t mind me kissing you, just to take your mind off of killing people.” You said quickly, just in case you’d read the situation wrong, and she was only flirting with you for her own entertainment.

“Hm, I didn’t mind at all.” She said lowly, eyes dropping not so subtly. “But maybe I need you to distract me some more?” The Master suggested, voice dropping an octave. You smiled brightly, pressing your lips to hers once again. Her lips moved against yours flawlessly, hand snaking down your thigh and squeezing your soft flesh. Your hand found her nape, pulling her against your body, so she had you pinned to the wall. The Master almost growled, nipping on your bottom lip till they parted, your tongues pressing together. You moaned into the kiss, a hand sliding into her blazer and holding onto her waist. Your mind became hazy, consumed only by her. The Master revelled in the sounds you made, proud knowing it was because of her. You didn’t want it to end, chasing her lips as she pulled away. Pecking your lips a couple more times, The Master looked down at you simpering.

“I say, we go back in there hand in hand, get some cake. Have a dance, who cares about your stupid family? Then we leave and get you the hell away from them.” Liking her idea, you nod gleefully and placed your fingers together. “And if she says anything, I can’t promise I’ll be nice.” The Master told you straight, but you just leant up and kissed her cheek.

“I don’t care.”

———

Thankfully, the speeches were finished when you walked back into the room. On the stage, Beth was cutting the cake, cheering at a pitch far too high. The Master made sure your chairs were touching before sitting down, keeping an arm around your waist.

“I hope it’s chocolate.” You said absentmindedly, noticing people getting their dessert.

“If not, I’ll get you some later.” The Master was quick to say, making you smile.

“You’re so attentive.”

“Have you only just noticed?” She feigned offence, you just laughing and shook your head. Beth returned to the table, giving a slice to her mother and father. A waiter came around for the rest of the guests, making sure everyone got a piece. It was a pretty slice of cake, with white icing and red berries on the top. You were overjoyed to find it was a Black Forest cake. Excited, you tried some of the icing and felt your eyes light up.

“Be careful (y/n). Your emaciated body might shrivel up from all that sugar.” Beth said in a baby voice, pulling an overly cutesy face to add insult to injury. Clicking her tongue, The Master picked up her spoon.

“Jealousy is a nasty disease, Beth. I hope you get better soon.” Her false sympathy almost made you laugh, but you held it together. She sat there shocked, brows knitting together.

“As if I’d be jealous of that. I dont want to look like a boy!”

“And yet.” She begun, casting her eyes over to your cousin. “She’s more feminine than you’ll ever be. Especially with that attitude.” The Master ate some of her cake, tapping the spoon against her lips.

“Excuse me! You’re at my wedding!” Beth screeched, a few people looking over but not really noticing much amiss.

“Hm, you must be so sad that you got outdone on your special day.” The Master taunted, lip turning up as she could see red flashing up on the bride. Beth slammed her fist on the table, a few of the drinks sloshing over.

“I did not get outdone by that bony little skank!” You stopped mid bite, turning to her clearly hurt. Feeling you tense up, The Masters eyes went cold.

“Say that again.” She seethed, looking at the brunette with pure malice. “I dare you.” Beth shrunk back under her icy gaze, jaw trembling slightly as she went back to her own cake. Frowning, you turned your back to your supposed family.

“I can’t wait till we leave.” You murmured, checking the time on your phone. “But I wanna dance with you first.” The idea brought a smile back to your face, digging back into your food. The Master chuckled, watching as your lips wrapped around the spoon almost criminally.

“Yeah…” Her voice trailed off. You looked up at her and she almost groaned but swallowed it down.

“You’re going to kill me sweetheart.”

“I thought that was your job?” You giggled, pushing the now empty bowl away. Giving you a simple smile, The Master got distract by your aunt who had just sat down.

“You two missed the speeches! It’s a shame. They were lovely.” Clearly, she was slightly intoxicated now.

“I’m sure they were.” The master was hardly audible.

“You two are sat really close. Almost on top of each other?” Ignoring the drunk woman, you suddenly remembered something and let out a small gasp. Moving her fingers along your side, The Master looked down at you.

“Is everything alright?”

“I forgot, I kinda have a room here tonight. You know because I’m in the bridal party?” You explained. Blinking at you, she hummed in thought.

“Do you have to stay?”

“Well I suppose not, but it’s a lovely building and it would be a shame not to.” Glimpsing at her, you smiled and rested your head on her shoulder. “You’re my ‘plus one’ remember. Meaning it’s your room too.” That made the timelady grin, brushing your hair back tenderly.

“Then I guess that’s not so bad, but I wasn’t aware of this. I don’t have anything with me?” Pressing your cheek to her blazer, you shrugged with a vivacious smile.

“We can share don’t worry.”

“Oh? Aren’t you sweet.” The Master chuckled, stroking your cheek with the back of her hand. To your right, a noise of distaste could be heard very clearly.

“What are you doing?” Beth asked as if you had broken some sort of law. The Master looked at her, the girl moving back a bit.

“Talking?”

“Not that! That!” Beth waved her hands frantically, motioning to how The Master was holding you. There was a gaping pit in the bottom of your stomach, knowing it could only end badly.

“It’s called physical contact and affection. I know you must not get any, judging by the state of your husband.” The Master nod to the man by the bar, swaying from side to side. Beth looked too, cheeks puffing out sheepishly.

“Of course I do!”

“You seem very insecure about it.” The Master commented, bringing your head to rest on her again. It was as if she could sense your unease.

“I get all the affection I need, from my husband! My man! You two are just being weird!” Beth shrieked. To anyone else, it would seem like you were committing murder. Her over the top reactions were making people talk.

“May-haps you tell us why?” The Master was clearly bored.

“Because you’re both girls! Look at yourselves!” And you did, you both looked at each other with confusion. However, The Master simpered, allowing you to adjust and lean back against her chest. You stared at your cousin emotionlessly, letting out a breath as The Master put her hand on your bare thigh.

“Right?”

“Your point?” You both said at the same time, only causing more agitation from the bridezilla.

“It’s not natural! Not normal!” Beth preached.

“The only thing unnatural around here is you.” The Master shot back. “You should really get a refund from all those doctors.” You covered your mouth quickly, holding your laughter. Beth sat there with her mouth agape, staring dumbly. The Master just smirked, leaning down and pressing her lips to the side of your head. Your aunt, who had been watching the whole time, put her Prosecco down sloppily.

“You just kissed her.” She slurred, eyes narrowing in your direction. The Master just scoffed.

“That, was not a kiss.” She said, cupping your cheek and making you face her. You blushed as her lips met yours, kissing back shyly. The kiss was longer than necessary, not that you were complaining, but you felt the discomfort around you. When she pulled back, The Master smiled and looked at your aunt smugly.

“That was a kiss.” She bragged, standing and pulling you with her. “Now, if you’ll excuse us. We’re going to dance.”

“Together?” Your aunt still questioned somehow.

“Are you mentally slow?” The Master spat, sliding her hand back around your waist. They just stared. Rolling her eyes, the blonde clicked her tongue in anger.

“Yeah, exactly. You’re old and loveless, stuck with a husband who won’t even speak to you, and a daughter you live through vicariously. And even that disappoints you.” The Master was toying with fire, throwing everything back at your aunt, the same way you’d always been treated. “Don’t look at us, like we’re the ones doing something wrong. As if you haven’t been using her as your personal punching bag. I’d count yourselves lucky that she even came, that she’s even staying. And, after tonight, don’t bet on ever seeing her again.” She spat, taking you away from them and onto the dance floor.

———

The room was as luxurious as expected, neat and pristine. There was a large king-sized bed in the middle, with fresh white, linen sheets and a dark throw folded neatly at the bottom. With two mahogany tables on either side, one had a copper lamp, the other a bowl of mints and a phone for reception. On the left wall, there was a large window, with cream drapes and wooden shutters. On the right, a wardrobe and dressing table, matching to the rest of the maroon wood-work. Opposite the bed there was a large tv hung on the wall, a door next to it which lead to a bathroom. Your bags had been taken there, courtesy of the hotel staff.

“This is nice, you were right.” The Master nod, walking around and looking at the paintings dotted about. Crouching by your bag, you pulled out your pyjamas, plus a spare vest then walked over to her.

“Here, you can wear these.” You handed her the black plaid, loose pyjama pants along with a grey vest. She took them gratefully.

“Thanks love. Mind if I take the bathroom?” Once you had shook your head, she gave your nose an affectionate tap before going. After slipping out of your dress, you unclasped your bra, tossing both into the bag without care. Buttoning up the matching plaid shirt, you put on some cosy socks then perched on the end of the bed. It took a few minutes, but you took your hair out of its style and brushed out all the knots until it was smooth again. Taking the remote, you flicked through the limited options on the tv.

“Anything decent?” The Master asked, reappearing from the bathroom.

“Shrek?” You said, not recognising anything else on the list. Clearly, it was the only big production movie they had bought the rights to stream. Looking up, your face grew warm at what you saw. It was a rare sight, seeing The Master in pyjamas, but it was one you found yourself liking. The grey vest was tight, making your eyes fixate on less than savoury areas. Walking to stand in front of you, she tilted your chin up so your eyes met.

“Put whatever you like on, I know noise helps you relax.” The Master smiled, stroking your cheek before stepping away and going to the left side of the bed. Clicking play, you looked back at her, watching as she sat herself against the pillows. “Well, are you going to join me?” She tilted her head, reaching an arm out for you. Not needing to be told twice, you crawled over to her and lay snug to her side. The Master chuckled, brushing her fingers through your hair. You couldn’t help but stare up at the woman, doe eyes flittering between her eyes and her lips.

“Do you want something, love?” She asked rhetorically, nails scratching at your nape. Getting shy, you shook your head and rolled over. Again, she laughed at your behaviour, shuffling down and pressing herself against your back. Tentatively, her hand slid up your hip and under the matching shirt.

“Don’t turn away from me, I enjoy seeing your pretty face. Especially when you’re blushing.” She spoke confidently, fingers gliding along the skin of your stomach. You bit your lip timidly, gazing back at her. There was a blistering smile on her face, tugging you to lay on your back before her hand slipping out, landing on your front. “That’s better.” The Master muttered, leaning down and giving you a chaste kiss. A whine slipped past your lips.

“That wasn’t a kiss.” You almost pouted, hardly noticing when she began to play with the buttons on your shirt.

“Oh, that wasn’t enough for you?” She inquired playfully, to which you shook your head fiercely. Unable to resist, The Master captured your lips in a deeper kiss, your hands finding purchase on her shoulders. Your lips moved in conjunction perfectly, the movie being drowned out in the background. She popped the bottom three buttons open, hand slithering back under the fabric. You gasped as her hand got higher, allowing The Blonde to escalate the kiss. A moan escaped as your tongues met, your fingers threading through her hair and tugging at it almost desperately. Somehow, she pulled back, trailing kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck. Your head fell back as she nipped at the skin, leaving red marks in their wake.

“Such a tease.” She breathed, sinking her teeth into the sensitive area and leaving a dark bruise. Hissing in both pain and pleasure, you keened into her touch.

“Cute.” The Master smiled, looking down at you, proud of the state she had left you in. Carefully, she moved the both of you under the covers. Hooking her hands under your arms, she pulled you up onto the her chest and wrapped you in her warm embrace. You relaxed instantaneously, pressing your nose into the crook of her neck.

“Promise me you won’t kill Beth in the middle of the night?” You mumbled tiredly, hugging her waist comfortably. The Master huffed, drawing shapes onto your back.

“Fine. But only because I can’t bear the thought of leaving you.” Her response made you smile fondly, eyes closing feeling more content now. Falling silent, your mind started to drift off as you listened to the TV. Lowering the volume, The Master left it playing as you slept, making sure the duvet was shielding you from the cold. Having you sleep in her arms was a feeling she could definitely enjoy every night. With you, maybe she could even find the safety to fall asleep herself.

[autisticempathydaemon]

Hello! Are you hyperfixated on RedactedAudio?

Do you want (need) to know who to follow to cultivate your dashboard and feed your gremlin brain good, good boyfriend roleplay content?

Cool, I’ve got you, and I’ve got hyperlinks. Buckle up.

(Note: This is by no means a comprehensive, objective, or complete list. I've only been in the fandom for six months or so. I have biases and favorites and limited time. I hope to update this list periodically, and if you feel I've missed someone, please feel free to reblog with your additions! I just would have loved a guide like this when I got into the fandom back in August and wanted to spread some positivity~!)

Fanfiction:

@angelnoodlesoup: she/her

Sophie is just one of the sweetest David stans that's ever existed who writes, like, the sweetest things about him. Her posts are just going to make you feel warm, fluffy, soft things in your heart area; give into the sweetness. Highlights: Sophie writes this adorable timestamp series of vignettes exploring Davey and Angel's day, but I'm particularly attacked to their David/Angel neighbors to lovers AU~

@arrowfleur

I was actually going to put Max in the visual content portion of this post, because they post delightful Redacted edits on Tiktok (under the same username, highly recommend~), but then they made a uquiz that gave me an existential crisis, so here we are. Highlights: This quiz sent my whole server for a loop and has made me reconsider my relationship with Lovely as a character and kin; it's a great time.

@batch-of-pengwings: robin/bird, she/her

Robin, an absolute sweetheart who makes all the fun ask games that keep the community interconnected and thinking and talking which is just really sweet and fun in the best way. Highlights: The Winter Wonderland game is the one who went around most recently, and it’s so fun to engage with the fandom and discuss who we think is stupid enough to get their tongues stuck on a telephone poll~

@bicyclepainting: they/them

Clover, the fandom's resident Smartass, doing the lord's work and reminding us all how fucking smoochable Aaron is on a regular basis on top of being the coolest astrology nerd don't give them your birth chart you will be perceived /lh Highlights: No one is doing Aaron/Smartass like they are; like, read and absorb the delicious, domestic delight that is them. I also recommend their deep dives into the Redacted bois signs, if you're into that; they're very thorough and fun to read!

@cashandprizes: she/they

My Lexi, my queerplatonic soulmate… She is on a quest to dissect and critique fandom brick by philosophical brick, and I both love her and fear her in equal measure. (That’s a lie, I love her infinitely, more than anything, but she is in fact incredibly intelligent and intimidating.) Highlights: Come for the scathing insights into gray-morality and DD:DNE’s place in fiction, stay for the stripper!Gavin fic they’re working on and their sequel to Lasko’s SexTember audio because she really wanted to make him cry

@ejunkiet: she/her

EJ, the very first of my Redacted loves~ Not only is EJ an endless well of kindness and positivity, but she also writes fucking bomb ass everything. You get angst, you get smut, you get fluff- We stan a multitalented, ace queen. (She also writes really cute CastleAudios fanfiction and original stuff as a cherry on top.) Highlights: EJ writes just some of my favorite David/Angel smut; she captures Angel's little shit nature perfectly. She's also written the sweetest thing of Damien meeting Huxley's moms that I can't get enough of~

@dominimoonbeam: she/her

Domini, truly one of the pillars of the fandom. I don't know what'd we'd be without her fantastic fics or her original novellas or her fantastic, beautiful, rarepair-creating brain. Highlights: God, there's too many to choose from! There's the Sam/Darlin fake dating AU that has us all gripped by the proverbial balls. There's the David/Darlin tattoo shop AU that has me frothing at the mouth because tattoo artists are stinkin hot. That's not even getting into their Cam/William fic, because god, that is such a good rarepair. We love two immortals finding love with one another, we really do. My personal favorite has got to be their Huxley/Darlin piece though, because Darlin gets to be cute and awkward and so, so loved in it.

@frenchiefitzhere: she/her

Frenchie, the fandom's unofficial (but basically official) Marie Greer, not only a gorgeous writer but also the creator of the most fantastical and unique fansongs (who makes original audio content to boot~) Highlights: We would be nowhere as a fandom without the Marie/Colm greer backstory and saga or her audios as the Greer Matriarch herself, but personally? Her Imperium!Lasko/Adam fic kind of changed my life, I'm kind of obsessed with it.

@friendlyfaded: he/him

Miles, the king and professor of the rarepairs! Beware, you will leave his blog wishing for fics for a ship that doesn’t actually exist yet. It’s unavoidable when you read the careful, creative, thoughtful way he considers seemingly silly pairings and makes them gorgeous. Highlights: I recommend his whole rarepairs with prof tag for a snack and his Sweetheart/Lasko/Milo fic for a whole meal~

@gingerbreadmonsters: she/her

Ginger, literally one of the sweetest, friendliest people in the entire Internet. I cannot adequately describe the absolute magnificent poetry of Ginger's prose, so you just have to read it for yourself. You will not be disappointed. Highlights: Ginger's Milo/Sweetheart series is for if you're feeling sweet, and her Vincent/Lovely/Gavin/Freelancer foursome fic is if you're feeling spicy~ Or if you're like me and are longing for an character we'll never see again, you can read her gorgeous, Doctor Who-inspired look in Marcus's mind.

@glassbearclock: she/her

Beans, also known as the best Milo/Sweetheart writer in the game. Their banter is taken from the mouth of god and first name Erik last name Redacted himself, and you could not convince me otherwise. Highlights: I’m a big fan of her sweet, wholesome, Jewish!Milo sick fic, but aYO her Milo/Sweetheart first date fic is so good y’all like goddamn Sweetheart phases through their door and makes Milo faceplant it on accident man that shit is so good

@horrorscoupes: they/he

My beautiful, darling Lotus, my gloriously deranged brother in arms (affectionate). The way they write each and every d(a)emons is just so -chef kiss-. Highlights: I think about their Regulus/Doll fic, like, literally every day, it's just yummy and depraved. Though, for a true taste of genius, for a galaxy brain treat, you've got to read his Shark!Vega/Pet masterpiece.

@k9rage: he/xi

My beloved Calico, our helpful Image Description fairy. He is just so cool and writes the most glorious smut like the world has ever seen. As of publishing, he's writing a Vega/Lasko street racing AU that's gonna be just smoke ash cinder fire hot. Highlights: You need to read his Damien/Gavin waxplay fic; like, this changed my life, I think about it daily. Ooh, AND his Aaron/SmartAss/Gavin threesome fic, because he didn't do all that thinking and imagining for us to not appreciate it. I'm also reccing @calicostorms, his other blog and spotify, so you can get at his stellar Redacted character playlists!

@lovelylonerliterature: 

Lovely, absolute stand-out writer in the fandom! Would you believe they have a whole (as of posting) 95 works for the RedactedASMR fandom on AO3? There’s <2000 fics, which makes Lovely a whole five percent of the fanfiction on their own. That’s wild and so hella cool. Highlights: Literally everything they write. Explore their extremely well done masterlist, it’s beautifully put together, and you’ll find something you love. (I’m particularly fond of the Darlin/Vega fic they wrote based off of one of FriendlyFaded’s posts~)

@romirola: she/her

Dr. Romi, the one and the only and one of the legitimate sweetest goddamn people that has ever existed. You've never met a more polite, darling person in all your days. How did she write all these thousands of words of art while getting a doctorate? God, I wish I knew... if only we could also be so beautiful and wonderful and accomplished. Highlights: You haven't existed until you've read her Milo/Sweetheart Tangled AU; like, what are you doing here? GO. (I also deeply recommend her found family Shaw Pack + Sam fic, if you're looking for something that's still ongoing!)

@sealriously-sealrious: they/them

Chrys who writes- no contest I think we can all agree- the best Huxley that this fandom has ever seen. He is just so well-explored and so multifaceted, just the top-tier himbo content we all need and deserve. Highlights: Huxley and Freelancer at the aquarium, Huxley and Freelancer going camping, sfw, nsfw, whatever you want, we've GOT. (There's even some imperium!Huxley, if you're so inclined >:))

@starlitangels: she/her

Starlit, another absolute powerhouse of the fandom. Just look at this masterlist, I think there’s something here for literally every character. That’s what babes call RANGE. Highlights: The way they explore the Shaw pack is so fun; I’d highly recommend her fic exploring Gabe and his backstory or her fic exploring the Shaw’s future pups~!

@taelonsamada: she/her

A pillar- or should I say fence post?- of the fandom and just an utter peach. Always has a nice word to say and says the best nice words about Sam and Darlin- Highlights: Her nsfw Geordi/Cutie fic holds a special place in my heart (the blindfold? the gag? Be still my beating heart), but you haven’t lived until you’ve read her Shaw-centric Ranch AU~!

@teasandcardigans: she/her

Mads, another lovely creator that could be in either section of this post- that's how talented she is! Not only is she a lovely writer but she also designs the most fun Redacted stickers! Also, she's got the only Redacted fan tiktok that Erik has confirmed seen and liked, can't not mention that it's so cool Highlights: Honestly, there's too many to mention! A really popular of hers is a "What If" echo-esque reimagining of everyone's stories which is so fun, and my personal, biased favorite is her Alexis & Gavin fic hear me OUT-

@the-sugar-crash

Cait, out here doing the most and the best. They’ve run the Redacted Winter Gift Exchange for the past two years, connecting blogs who might have never spoken to each other, inspiring creativity, and spreading holiday cheer~ Highlights: I recommend taking a look-see through the “Redacted 2022 Winter Gift Exchange” tag- much thanks to Cait for making it possible- to consider if you’d like to join next year! Until then, there’s a compilation of their cute headcanon posts to inspire you!

@zozo-01: she/her

Zo, one of the sweetest people in the fandom~ Not only is she a fantastic writer, but she is also one of the friendliest people in the space! Constantly excited and supportive and positive and a joy to follow and befriend. Highlights: Her Sam/Darlin Deity AU is going to change the world and break some hearts, I just know it. (Just like her Alexis and Darlin meeting fic broke mine-) If you're not up to getting your heart broken and just want a friend, I recommend asking her about her Powerpoint of Bollywood scenes that could be Sam/Darlin moments~!

Fanart:

@andr0leda: she/they

Androleda’s art is so gorgeous in that most of them are uncolored or working with a smaller palette, and it just makes those colors stand out and the line work all the more elegant. Highlights: Their wolf!Darlin piece got so popular, and you can see why! It looks like the cover of a really cool YA fantasy novel. Also, her Sam/Darlin art just melts the heart- the gentle hand, the key around the neck-!

@artbykays

Kays, a fantastic artist who plays around with the prettiest, brightest colors and has the prettiest (hottest) fem listeners. They also have super fun Redacted playlists! Highlights: Their Sweetheart, Valentina, is kind of smokin hot, I mean look at her, but also good lord, have you seen their Warden like lock me up anytime hello-

@belovedbow

Bow’s art just makes me so soft and gooey inside I dunno. Their art is so pretty, and they always have the most expressive faces. Not to mention the colors- like, Bow uses the simplest but most emotionally evocative shades of pinks and blues that make me inexplicably feel things, and I love it. Highlights: Literally all their Davey/Angel is the sweetest, but I also have this deep fondness for their imp!FL and Vindemiator pieces, because look at these deep, mournful blues, they’re beautiful!

@cascadiiing: they/them

Atlas creates the most beautiful, squishable, smoochable characters on top of being the most beautiful, squishable, smoochable (platonic) sweetie in existence~ they’re so sweet and friendly on top of being so talented at such a young age, and I would protect them with my life. Highlights: Their Sam kind of makes me so lovesick, I could barf- he’s just that pretty. Their Alexis/Christian art is fanart of my own fic, I’ll grant you, but it’s also so fucking pretty look at the dreamy colors and it MOVES-

@claracatlady

Where would we be without Clara, like honestly- What really stands out about their art is- other than the overwhelming talent- the obvious thought and joy that went into designing the outfits. Only the best from our resident fashion design student! Highlights: literally everything. If I must be specific, the David design pinned to their blog is utterly ahdhkakshdjsk, and I am particularly partial to their Alexis design, because I love my beautiful, possibly complex lady okay-

@fregget-frou : he/they

Mal has the prettiest Listeners; I’m lowkey in love with all of them~ I love the way he does such fluffy, voluminous hair, and I dunno, all their listener OC’s have this fashion model-esque glamour and posture about them that’s really attractive. Highlights: Of their listeners, Mal’s Angel has got to be my favorite. Look at this fluffy-haired cutie! Look at this menace! I would also propose to them, they’re gorgeous!

@gwenifred: she/her

Gwen draws the most gorgeous, swoon-worthy Huxleys and is just a big sweetpea to boot. Her and Pali sharing OC’s and art trades here and on Twitter is a testament to how friendly and sweet the fandom can be! Highlights: Everything she draws is gorgeous, but you haven’t lived until you’ve seen her animation work!

@ice-palace-art: They/It/He/Dae

Darby has some of the most beautiful designs, I can hardly stand it. He creates the most gorgeous, realistically proportioned characters and listeners, and they’re just really smoochable okay let me live- Highlights: It has this one piece of Gavin and Lasko having a sleepover that fills me with the warm fuzzies every time I see it, and their Aaron design fills me with longing I am hopelessly in love with their dad-bodded Aaron.

@itsdaifuku: she/her

Y’all don’t even know the little happy stim storm Fuku’s art sets me on; like, all her art is so cute and joyful and somehow colorful even when it’s in black and white? It just gives the vibe of life and vibrancy constantly? How does she do that? Highlights: Literally, everything she draws is gorgeous and sweet, though her designs for the Shaws and their mates are so S-tier and so cute. (I’m also particularly fond of her designs for Love and Alexis, my favorite characters, I’m biased, sue me)

@mr-laveau: he/they

Laveau, my favorite Milo kinnie~ (Yeah, I said it out loud; I’m callin you out.) Charming, thoughtful, friendly, much more talented than they have any right to be when they’re also so funny and sweet, AND also writing at their other blog @bratty-telepath. You’ve never seen such a double threat. Highlights: Literally, everything he makes. All his designs are colorful and gorgeous and filled to the brim with deliberate, intentional details (though I am incredibly partial to their Alexis and Darlin designs and the parallels he included between them.)

@nais-doodles

Nai is a fucking blessing unto this fandom, and we are not worthy. You haven’t really lived, haven’t experienced all the pure, positive silliness that this hellsite has to offer until you experience Nai’s Redacted Actor AU. It’s pure serotonin, and we’re all here listening to Boyfriend ASMR, I know we could use it. Highlights: Other than said AU posts (which really are so fuckin good), have you seen their drawing of Vincent and Sam’s Monarchal ball? Ooh, and if you go to their tiktok under the same username, you can see some of the really cool dating sim they’re working on!

@nanowatzophina: any pronouns

Na’no is not only a must follow on tumblr, but I also highly recommend their tiktok if you wish to wade through the horrid cesspool of that app (I say with tiktok as one of my top social media sites- we have a codependent relationship) Their art is super cute and expressive, and I get massive gender envy from the way he draws hair and teeth. Highlights: Her aspec Freelancer is just so close to my heart; I adore Avery so deeply. Also, the way they draw imperium!Vega and Pet makes my heart fucking melt and want to jump out my chest- the size difference, my god

@obsessivedino: they/them

Mint’s contribution to the fandom cannot possibly be overstated. Their art style is just so clean and neat and with the cutest expressions, and I love their designs so much, especially for the d(a)emon bois I just ahhhhh Highlights: If you’ve joined the official unofficial Redacted Discord server, you’ve seen their adorable stickers reminding you to kick that ass or hydrate unless you want to die-drate, and you haven’t truly embraced life unless you’ve seen their two-year anniversary masterpiece. Ooh, or pocket caelum!

@palilious: she/her

There is no Redacted fandom or fandom list without Pali, and we’ve all accepted that. Her style is so uniquely and instantaneously recognizable as hers, and everyone adores it, including but not limited to GBA, Nomad, and Cardlin! Highlights: Literally everyone she draws is so pretty, though I have a soft spot for her Vincent or her Nomad drawings if you’re looking for more VAs to listen to!

@pearl-kite: she/they

Kirehn has the most huggable humans and the most awe-inspiring d(a)emons. The way she draws the d(a)emons with constellations worked into the designs and color palettes is just so gorgeous and purposeful and thoughtful. Highlights: Their Vega is so frightening but beautiful, you just can’t look away from him. I’m also particularly in love with their Darlin!

@queendread

Do y’all ever do this thing when you see an ethereally beautiful person and you have no words, all you can do is giggle like a vapid schoolgirl(gn)? That’s me with all of Anna’s paintings: no words, just awe. Highlights: I don’t even really like Gavin, okay, he’s not my type, but lord above, Anna’s Gavin is something else. Their Sam also has those Captain America, boy next door good looks I imagined, it’s like they took him right out of my daydreams.

@ryokoaoi : they/them

Ryo has the absolute cutest, most adorable art style, one can barely handle it! Everything they draw is just so pretty and so colorful and detailed and sweet. (Except the sad things, those are less sweet but gosh they’re still so pretty.) They also have this Magic Swap AU that they design that is so fun to read about! Highlights: Their swapped! Gavin and Avior designs are so fun, I adore them deeply, and if you need something to cheer you up, you can always depend on their DAMN pieces that always include a little invisible Caelum to bring you joy~!

@slushrottweiler: she-they

There is nothing like seeing Slush’s signature blue linework on your dashboard, it’s such a sweet treat- or spicy. There are also very good, very spicy treats. Her blog is a magnificent roulette wheel of blue surprises. Highlights: I love their Sam/Darlin stuff, especially this one because wowee them shoulderblades, but their HuxDami BA piece takes the cake.

@spookybeandoodle

Spooky has my whole heart and wallet and my other heart if I had one I fell in love with their rich color palettes and shading and Alexis right away and had to commission them. Could not recommend enough, they were a treasure to work with~ Highlights: I’m not biased- okay yes I am but not now their Alexis is fuckin smoking hot but also their Cam might be my favorite Cam look at that smile-!

@sri-rachaa: she/her

Rae is such a treasure to this fandom, we hardly deserve her. Her art is so ethereally pretty and delicate? The way she draws hair and noses and silhouettes- her line work is just phenomenal. Everything she creates is just a delight to look at. Highlights: The Southern Siblings AU is a gift, a treasure, a boon that cannot be ignored. I’m also a big fan of her Lovely OC who is ridiculously pretty~

@tankwolf : she/her

June has been posting fanart for only two months, but I’m already absolutely obsessed. I just find her monochrome character portraits so visually engaging and interesting. I would love so badly to be friends with her listener OC’s… Highlights: …or more than friends, because her Sweetheart is something else good lord. I would just love it if June could stop putting the hot people in crop tops please (but also don’t cause whoa)

@terrazaurio

All the fanart Terra creates is so bright and vivid and colorful and expressive, they’re really such a treat to see and experience. I’m a sucker for the colors they use, cause it makes my lizard brain all happy and go “shiny pretty happy.” Highlights: Everything they draw with the Shaw Pack is pure dopamine, like this one of the bois and their mates hanging by the pool. I am particularly attached to this piece from Milo’s HBS, because they’re so fucking in love, your honor, I love them.

@thefablefoxart : she/her

Angelina’s Redacted couple series is one of the truest delights of the fandom; like, they’re so colorful and cute and just adorably designed. I’m also deeply in love with the way she does hair. Everyone just has really fucking good looking hair, and I can’t get over it-Highlights: On top of the aforementioned couple series, I just want to bring attention to this adorable chibi Sam that she drew- it brings me so much serotonin- and their Darlin, Kai who I wish would just give me a shot okay I have a Southern accent too-

If you’re reading all the way here, I hope you found the post helpful and smiled while making your way through it! Or both! The RedactedAudio fandom is truly one of my favorite spaces on the internet; it’s so intimate and creative, and I’ve found some amazing, perfect friends here, so I hope you will too 💖

again playing around with the formatting please stop hurting me tumblr I’m trying to be nice

If you can see this, I love you, and you’re watching me try to format this post so tumblr doesn’t cut off the bottom of it please ignore the Android behind the emerald curtain go about your day

[f14fun]

lay all your love on me - op81 (C5)

synopsis: in which oscar piastri and a university student begging for her euro summer vacation collide in a steamy, abba-inspired romance

prose (6.7K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist | series index ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

05: Caffeine, Clem, and Capital-L Crushes

I was running on exactly four hours of sleep, and every yawn felt like my body’s way of scolding me for staying up way too late dissecting every little detail of my night with Oscar. Two hours on FaceTime with Clementine had somehow turned into a caffeine-fueled debriefing session, complete with dramatic reenactments, wild theories, and far too much giggling for someone who was supposed to be getting some rest.

Clementine had demanded every detail, leaning into the camera with wide, eager eyes, dissecting each word, each touch, like she was decoding the plot of a blockbuster rom-com. I’d found myself animatedly recounting every flirty remark and lingering glance, my voice climbing higher with each retelling, only for Clem to gasp and fan herself like we were living in some Victorian romance.

The more we talked, the more the night felt surreal—a blur of sun-soaked moments and teasing exchanges that played on a loop in my mind. I’d lost track of how many times Clem had paused to remind me, “Babe, he’s into you. Like, capital-L into you.” Each time, I’d try to protest, but the undeniable flutter in my chest always betrayed me. By the time we’d finally hung up, my cheeks were aching from smiling, and the adrenaline from our impromptu therapy session had me buzzing long after I’d collapsed into bed.

I could still hear Clem’s voice echoing in my head:

“I’m telling you, this is a Hallmark movie in the making, and you’re the main character. The Oscar Romance Special is about to hit season two.”

I’d rolled my eyes at the time, but now, dragging myself out of bed with a sleepy groan, I couldn’t stop replaying every flirty line, every shared smile, every moment that had made the night feel like something more.

The minute I’d crawled under the covers last night, I should have fallen straight into a blissful, uninterrupted sleep. But instead, I’d tossed and turned, Oscar’s voice running laps in my head, every cheeky grin and lingering touch replaying like my brain had hit the “rewind” button on the best parts of the day. And once Clem got wind of it, there was no way she was going to let me sleep without a full-blown breakdown of every micro-detail.

“It’s the way he looked at you when you were talking about chicken fights,” Clem had mused, eyes wide as if she were watching a thriller unfold. “Like you were the only person who’d ever said something even remotely interesting.”

I’d laughed, brushing it off, but the truth was, I’d noticed it too. The way Oscar’s gaze would linger, how his playful teasing had just the slightest undercurrent of something deeper.

We’d joked, sure—but every joke felt like it was skirting around something bigger, something neither of us were quite ready to name. And when I’d finally tried to put it into words, Clem had been ready with her own dramatic commentary, as usual.

“So he’s a Formula One driver, he’s charming, and he looks at you like you hung the moon with the flick of a finger. Babe, if you don’t lock in right now and lock that down, I’m coming over there myself to knock some sense into you.” She’d laughed with such glee and enthusiasm, but the teasing was laced with genuine excitement, and it had fueled my own sleepless spiral long after we’d said goodnight.

I’d tossed and turned for hours, replaying every moment in my head like it was some kind of twisted highlight reel. The way Oscar’s voice had dropped when he talked about his life on the track, the lingering touches that made my heart race, and that look—God, that look—like I was the only person in the world who mattered. Clem was right; it was hard not to get swept up in it, to not feel like the universe had handed me some ridiculous, too-good-to-be-true script of a romance movie. But as much as my heart was screaming at me to dive headfirst, my mind was busy throwing up every possible reason to pump the brakes.

Now, sunlight was streaming through my window, mercilessly bright, as I trudged to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face in a vain attempt to wake up. My reflection stared back at me, hair sticking out in every direction, dark circles under my eyes that practically screamed, You should have gone to bed sooner. But my mind was still buzzing, caught somewhere between the thrill of last night and the anxiety of what came next.

I brushed my teeth absentmindedly, trying to scrub away the exhaustion and the lingering taste of late-night anxiety. But every time I closed my eyes, I was back on that beach, Oscar’s teasing grin etched into my memory like a permanent fixture. It wasn’t just the flirting or the way he’d pulled me close; it was the way he’d made me feel seen, like all the walls I’d put up to protect myself had been effortlessly dismantled in a single night.

I leaned against the sink, sighing heavily. “Get it together,” I mumbled to my reflection. “He’s just a guy.” But even as I said it, the words felt hollow, lacking the conviction I so desperately needed. Because deep down, I knew Oscar was not just any guy. There was something undeniably magnetic about him, something that made it impossible to stick to the safety of denial.

My phone buzzed on the counter, snapping me out of my thoughts. It was a text from Clem, her timing impeccable as always:

Clem: morning, lovebird! dream of your racer boy? 😘

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips.

Me: morning. and no, i dreamt of sleep deprivation, thanks.

Clem: liesss girl liesss, i can see you RIGHT now in my mind. you’re probably blushing just thinking about him right now.

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and, sure enough, the telltale warmth was already creeping up my cheeks. Damn it, Clem. She knew me too well.

Me: oh my god, clem. you’re like a psychic stalker. can’t a girl have some peace?

Clem: peace? honey, you signed up for the drama package the moment you met him. so spill, what’s the plan? are you gonna ride this love rollercoaster or what?

And, damn her, she was right. I tossed my phone onto the wooden dresser, groaning. Everything felt too raw, too immediate. It wasn’t like me to get this twisted up over a guy, but there was something about Oscar—something I couldn’t quite put my finger on—that made my usual cool detachment completely useless.

I splashed my face one more time, hoping the cold water would snap me out of my reverie, but it was no use. The memory of Oscar’s easy laugh, his warm touch, and that sincere, almost vulnerable side he’d let slip through lingered like a song I couldn’t get out of my head. And the worst part? A small, stubborn part of me didn’t want it to go away.

As I ran a brush through my tangled hair, I caught myself staring at the mirror, silently wishing for answers. What was I supposed to do now? Lean in and see where this crazy, unexpected thing with Oscar could go, or protect myself and pull back before things got messy? Either way, I was in uncharted territory, and the thought of navigating it without screwing everything up seemed both exhilarating and terrifying.

“Guess I’m in it now,” I muttered to my reflection, feeling the weight of the decision resting heavily on my shoulders. Because whatever happened next, there was no going back to before.

Clem: you better not chicken out now. i swear, if you start overthinking this, i’ll fly over there myself and push you into his arms.

Me: so violent, hehe.

Me: but thanks for the pep talk, dr. phil. ilysmmm

Clem: ilysm booo! you know it. and hey, you’ve got this. worst case? you get a story to laugh about later. best case? you get a hot f1 boyfriend. seems like a win-win to me.

I laughed, shaking my head as I set my phone down. Clem’s relentless optimism was a lifeline, even when she was half-joking. I wasn’t sure which possibility scared me more—letting this thing with Oscar fizzle out into a ‘remember when’ or diving in headfirst and risking everything.

I threw on my seafoam green strapless dress, the one with the ruched bodice that hugged my waist just right and flowed into a ruffled hem. It was the perfect mix of casual and effortlessly chic, capturing that laid-back Mediterranean vibe I’d always admired but never quite pulled off until now. The soft pastel green felt fresh and summery, and as I adjusted the fabric, I couldn’t help but feel a little more put together than usual.

To complete the look, I fastened my chunky gold chain necklace, adorned with oversized sea-themed charms—starfish, shells, and other ocean treasures that jingled softly with every movement. It was bold, a little gaudy maybe, but it felt right, like an unapologetic nod to the seaside setting we were in. Matching gold earrings dangled from my ears, catching the morning light, and I stacked a few gold bangles on my wrists for good measure. The jewelry was heavy, warm against my skin, but it grounded me, giving me a little boost of confidence as I prepared to face whatever this day would bring.

I took one last glance in the mirror, adjusting the loose waves in my hair and making sure the necklace lay just right. There was something about the way the outfit came together that made me feel a little bolder, like I was dressing not just for breakfast, but for the possibility of whatever—or whoever—came next.

Even if I felt nervous as hell and quite possibly so very close to the edge, I would make sure no one could see it (telling myself lies again but I digress).

I needed to look hot. Fucking impeccable.

Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my phone again, typing out a final message to Clem:

Me: okay, okay. i’m going. no more hiding. and if i trip over my words like a fool, that’s on you.

Clem: that’s my girl! go get your man.

With Clem’s words echoing in my head, I shoved my phone into my pocket and headed downstairs, nerves fluttering in my stomach like restless butterflies. The scent of breakfast hit me as soon as I reached the bottom step—freshly brewed coffee, the crisp aroma of toast, and something sweet, like cinnamon and sugar. It was a comforting mix, and it tugged at the edges of my anxiety, coaxing me forward.

The kitchen was bathed in soft morning light, casting a golden glow over the bustling scene. Mae, with her short hair tousled in that effortlessly cool way only she could pull off, was dressed in an oversized graphic tee and a pair of tiny denim shorts, her legs stretched out as she lounged on the stool, half-distracted by whatever was on her screen. A few bracelets jingled on her wrist as she absentmindedly scrolled, occasionally chiming in with a sarcastic comment that made the others laugh.

Hattie, ever the organized one, was moving around with purpose, her damp curls pulled back into a messy bun that still somehow looked put-together. She wore a light blue tank top that matched her eyes and high-waisted linen pants that billowed slightly as she moved, the kind of outfit that screamed effortless summer chic. She balanced a stack of mismatched plates on one hip, arranging them on the table with precision, her expression a mix of focus and amusement as she chimed in on Mae’s snarky commentary.

Edie, the youngest but certainly not the quietest, was manning the stove with the confidence of someone who had taken on the role of breakfast chef many times before. Her hair was pulled into two loose braids, little wisps escaping around her face as she flipped pancakes with practiced ease. She wore a sunflower-yellow sundress that brightened the room even more, the fabric swishing around her knees as she moved. A slight dusting of flour clung to her hands, and there was a faint smear of batter on her cheek, giving her an endearing, carefree look.

The kitchen smelled heavenly—warm, sweet, and buttery—with the faintest hint of vanilla wafting from Edie’s pancake masterpiece. Mae’s playlist was faintly audible, playing some indie pop tune that filled the gaps in their conversation and set an upbeat mood. It was the kind of scene that felt both chaotic and comforting, each of the sisters contributing to the lively morning energy in their own way.

“Morning!” Mae chirped, barely glancing up from her screen but still managing to sound chipper. “You’re up early. Couldn’t stay away from us, huh?”

“Morning,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light and casual. “Smells amazing in here.”

“Edie’s specialty,” Hattie said with a grin, sliding a stack of pancakes onto the table. “She’s got this whole breakfast chef thing down to an art.”

Edie turned, waving the spatula in a mock bow. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all week. Literally.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, taking a seat across from Mae. “Well, lucky us. I’m definitely not complaining.”

Mae finally looked up, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, did you sleep well? You know, after your little moonlit stroll last night?”

I felt my cheeks heat up instantly, and I reached for a mug to hide my flustered expression. “Yeah, fine. Just… normal.” I took a sip, hoping the coffee would ground me, but all it did was make me more aware of how on edge I was.

Hattie exchanged a knowing look with Mae, then turned to me with a playful smile. “You guys were out there for a while. I half expected to hear the soundtrack of a rom-com playing in the background.”

I rolled my eyes, but there was no malice in it—just the familiar tug of embarrassment. “You guys are impossible, you know that?”

Edie laughed, flipping another pancake. “Oh, we know. But you love it.”

“Sure, let’s go with that,” I said, trying to keep my voice light as I picked at a piece of toast. The truth was, I didn’t mind their teasing. In fact, their relentless ribbing was almost comforting, like being folded into a dynamic I didn’t know I needed.

“Anyway,” Mae continued, dragging out the word as if savoring the moment, “Oscar’s still asleep. Guess all that romantic strolling wore him out.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, and I choked on my coffee, trying to keep my composure.

“Mae, please,” I said, laughing despite myself. “I don’t need a play-by-play of his morning routine.”

Edie set down the last plate of pancakes and took a seat, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, come on. It’s just so fun watching you squirm.”

“Yeah, and you’re kind of the only normal one here,” Hattie added, piling syrup onto her plate. “Oscar’s always either being overly confident or sulking about something. It’s refreshing to have someone who’s, you know, sane.”

I smiled, feeling that familiar warmth of being welcomed, even if it came wrapped in layers of teasing. “Well, thanks, I guess? I’ll take being the sane one if it means I get pancakes.”

Hattie passed me the syrup, her grin wide. “Deal. But don’t think that gets you off the hook. We’re all dying to know—what’s really going on with you and Oscar?”

I hesitated, suddenly aware of how much their playful scrutiny meant to me. I didn’t want to let them down, but I also wasn’t ready to admit to anything that I hadn’t even figured out myself. “Honestly?” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m not sure. But I think that’s okay. We’re just… figuring it out.”

Mae nodded, surprisingly earnest. “Hey, no pressure. Just enjoy it. Life’s too short to overthink everything.”

I glanced at her, surprised by the sudden shift from teasing to sincerity. “Yeah, you’re right,” I said, feeling a little more settled. “I think I will.”

Mae’s expression softened, and she set her phone down, propping her chin on her hand as she watched me. “Seriously, though, don’t stress about it. If anyone can handle the chaos that is Oscar, it’s you. Plus, he’s not so bad once you get used to the terrible jokes and the occasional bouts of bravado.”

Hattie chuckled, sliding into her seat and pouring herself a glass of orange juice. “And the dramatic speeches,” she added, winking at me. “He’s got a flair for making everything sound like it’s life or death, but really, he’s just a softie at heart.”

Edie finally turned off the stove, setting a towering plate of pancakes on the table with a triumphant grin. “You’ll get used to it,” she said, giving me a conspiratorial smile as she sat down. “Just roll with it. That’s what we do.”

Their encouragement warmed me more than I expected, and for a moment, I felt like I was being let in on a secret, one that went beyond the lighthearted teasing and easy banter. It was clear that beneath all the jokes, there was a genuine care for their brother—a kind of protective, loving acceptance that made me feel a little less alone in navigating this new territory with him.

I sat down, reaching for a pancake and letting their words sink in. The idea of just enjoying the moment, of not overanalyzing every tiny interaction, felt both freeing and slightly terrifying. But sitting here, surrounded by this noisy, welcoming group, it felt like maybe, just maybe, I could let go a little. I could let myself lean into the unexpected without the weight of expectations dragging me down.

Mae poured herself another cup of coffee, her smile turning back into her usual mischievous smirk. “And hey, if it doesn’t work out, at least you’ll have some great stories. Like, ‘Remember that summer I got tangled up with a race car driver and his three crazy sisters?’ It’s all part of the adventure.”

I laughed, shaking my head at Mae’s dramatics. “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, taking a bite of my pancake, the sweetness filling my senses. “But for now, I think I’ll just enjoy breakfast and see where the day takes me.”

Hattie raised her glass in a mock toast. “To not overthinking and just going with the flow,” she declared, her eyes sparkling with the easy confidence of someone who knew exactly how to live in the moment.

Edie joined in, clinking her glass with Hattie’s and then mine. “And to great company,” she added, beaming as she dug into her stack of pancakes.

Edie took a sip of her juice, then leaned forward, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “So, we got all wrapped up in Oscar’s big secret yesterday, but what about you? We didn’t really get to know much about the mystery girl who’s apparently brave enough to keep up with our brother.”

I smiled, feeling the spotlight shift to me as all three sisters turned their attention my way. “Oh, nothing too dramatic,” I started, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m twenty-one, a senior at George Washington University in DC.”

Hattie’s eyes widened with recognition. “Ooh, DC! The nation’s capital, right? I’ve always wanted to go. It’s like, politics central, isn’t it?”

I nodded, laughing at her enthusiasm. “Yeah, it’s a pretty unique place. It’s not a state, but it likes to think it’s important enough to be one. You know, home of the White House, Congress, and a whole lot of people in suits pretending they know how to run the country.”

Mae snorted into her coffee. “So basically, it’s one giant power trip?”

“Pretty much,” I grinned. “But it’s also got this amazing mix of history and culture. There are monuments and museums on every corner, and sometimes it feels like you can’t throw a rock without hitting some important landmark. It’s kind of like living in a history book—except with more Starbucks.”

Hattie laughed. “And you’re majoring in what? Political stuff, I’m guessing?”

“Close,” I said, feeling a bit more comfortable now. “I’m majoring in International Relations. It’s like political science, but with more foreign countries, diplomacy, and trying to figure out why world leaders can’t just get along. Basically, I’m training to be the world’s most overqualified peacekeeper or, you know, a very stressed-out diplomat.”

Edie nodded, clearly impressed. “That sounds really cool, though. And probably way over my head. So what do you do for fun in a city full of politicians?”

“Well,” I said, a little shy but pleased they were interested, “when I’m not drowning in textbooks, I actually love to photograph the city. There’s something about the mix of old architecture and modern chaos that just... speaks to me, I guess. Plus, it’s an easy way to escape all the academic stuff and just focus on something beautiful.”

Mae’s ears perked up. “Wait, so you’re a photographer? That’s awesome! Do you post your stuff anywhere?”

I hesitated, suddenly feeling a bit bashful. “Yeah, I have an Instagram account where I share my photos. It’s kind of taken off a little bit.”

Hattie immediately pulled out her phone, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “What’s your handle? I wanna see!”

I told them my Instagram username, and within seconds, they were scrolling through my feed, their faces lighting up with interest as they took in my shots of cityscapes, moody portraits, and candid street moments.

“Whoa, you’ve got 32.9K followers?” Edie exclaimed, holding up her phone to show the impressive number. “You’re basically Instagram famous! And these photos are gorgeous.”

Mae looked up, clearly impressed. “I’m not even surprised. You’ve got an eye, girl. These shots are like... magazine-level good. I feel like I’m seeing DC through a totally different lens.”

I blushed, feeling a mix of pride and humility. “Thanks, it’s kind of my little escape. I just love capturing the city’s vibe—the people, the little hidden corners, the chaos and calm all mixed together. I never expected it to turn into something people would actually follow.”

Hattie scrolled through a few more pictures, pausing on one of a sunlit Washington Monument framed by cherry blossoms. “I get it. This is art, seriously. And now I’m kind of jealous of your life. You get to live in this cool place, study fascinating stuff, and take amazing photos on the side. That’s like, triple threat territory.”

Hattie leaned back in her chair, shaking her head in disbelief. “You know, I’ve never even been to DC. I mean, we’ve talked about going, but somehow we always end up at the beach or stuck on some last-minute road trip that Dad plans.”

Mae laughed, nodding. “Yeah, because why visit the nation’s capital when you can get lost in the middle of nowhere and argue over gas station snacks, right?”

Edie snorted. “Honestly, the closest we’ve been to DC is watching reruns of House of Cards and pretending we understand politics.”

Mae threw her hands up dramatically. “I swear, we’re missing out. I mean, we’ve got to see all those marble buildings and secret government stuff, right? What’s it like, just casually living near a bunch of old guys in suits who make all the rules?”

I laughed, enjoying their banter. “Honestly? It’s a mix. On one hand, you’ve got all these important people running around pretending they’re changing the world. On the other, it’s just a bunch of monuments, overpriced coffee shops, and tourists blocking the sidewalks with selfie sticks.”

Hattie giggled. “Wow, it sounds like such a glamorous place. Like New York, but with more government scandals and fewer Broadway shows.”

Edie nodded, trying to look serious but failing miserably. “I feel like we’d be kicked out of DC within a day. One of us would probably start an argument with a senator over parking spaces, and Mae would definitely try to sneak into the Capitol just to see if it’s as dramatic as the movies.”

Mae pointed at Edie, pretending to be offended. “Hey, I’m not that reckless. But, like, if we do go, I’m definitely hitting up those underground tunnels. You know they’ve got to be hiding some cool spy stuff down there.”

I shook my head, laughing at the absurdity. “Yeah, I’m not sure you guys would last. You’d probably spend the whole trip critiquing the statues or getting lost in the Smithsonian.”

Mae shrugged, grinning. “Hey, we’re up for the challenge. Just promise to be our tour guide when we eventually decide to grace DC with our presence. We’ll bring the chaos, and you bring the camera.”

“Deal,” I said, raising my glass in mock seriousness. “Just don’t blame me when you get kicked out of a museum for climbing on the exhibits.”

Mae nodded in agreement, setting her phone down. “Yeah, honestly, I’m just glad we finally got to hear your side. And hey, now we know that if you ever get sick of Oscar, you’ve got a whole city full of potential new admirers.”

I laughed, feeling a warm sense of belonging settle over me. “Thanks, but I think I’ll stick around for a bit. I’m kind of liking where I am right now.”

The girls laughed, and Hattie leaned in, her eyes bright with curiosity. “Wait wait wait I still have a few questions. You must have some wild stories. I mean, it’s DC—you’re right in the middle of all the action!”

I smiled, settling into the moment. “It’s a lot of things—hectic, beautiful, sometimes frustrating, but never boring. I love how there’s always something happening, whether it’s a protest down on the National Mall or a pop-up art exhibit in some random alley. There’s this constant energy, like everyone’s in a rush but also living in this incredible historic moment all the time.”

Edie nodded, fascinated. “And the photography thing—how do you even capture all of that? Like, do you just walk around with your camera 24/7?”

I laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Pretty much. I like to just wander around and see where the day takes me. You’d be surprised how many hidden gems there are—little parks tucked between office buildings, street musicians who are just as talented as anyone on stage. Plus, it’s fun capturing the contrasts—the shiny government buildings and the raw, gritty parts that make the city feel real.”

Mae smiled, clearly impressed. “Okay, so now you’re officially our go-to when we make it to DC. We’ll get the full insider experience—no boring tourist traps.”

I opened my mouth to agree when suddenly, a familiar arm draped around my shoulder, pulling me into a warm side hug. “Speaking of insider experiences,” Oscar’s voice broke in, far too close to my ear. “Are you telling them about your little secret photo spots? Or do I get to be the first one you show around?”

Startled, I jumped and let out a sharp yelp, my heart leaping into my throat. Without thinking, my elbow shot backward, driven by pure instinct and a jolt of adrenaline. The impact was immediate—I felt my elbow connect with something firm and unyielding. It wasn’t the soft thud of bumping into furniture or the awkward smack of knocking into someone’s arm. No, this was solid, unmistakably muscular. My elbow sank briefly against the defined ridges of Oscar’s abs, and I could feel the tension of his muscles bracing under the sudden, unexpected blow.

Oscar let out a strangled, surprised grunt, the sound half-laugh, half-pained exhale, as he stumbled backward. His expression morphed from shock to mock agony as he clutched his side dramatically, doubling over with a theatrical gasp.

“Ow! Holy—” he managed between strained breaths, his free hand pressed firmly against his stomach as if he’d just taken a punch straight out of a boxing ring. He staggered back a step, his body curling protectively around the spot where my elbow had connected, and for a split second, I worried I might’ve actually hurt him.

But Oscar’s over-the-top reaction was more comedic than anything else. He leaned against the counter, groaning with exaggerated flair, squeezing his eyes shut as if he were the star of his own melodramatic performance. His dark hair fell messily over his forehead, and even in his mock pain, he couldn’t quite hide the playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“You’ve got some serious power in that elbow,” he wheezed, still clutching his side but peeking up at me with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “What have you been eating? Steel oats? Protein shakes? Because, damn, you’ve got a weapon there.”

“Oh my god!” I gasped, half mortified, half laughing as Oscar pretended to lurch dramatically against the counter. “You scared the hell out of me! Why are you sneaking up on people?”

Oscar winced playfully, rubbing his abs where I’d jabbed him. “Damn, remind me never to surprise you again. You’ve got an elbow like a linebacker.” He laughed, but his eyes were twinkling, clearly enjoying the chaos he’d caused.

I sat there, caught between concern and stifled laughter, my face flushed with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed, half-panicked, half-giggling as I reached out, instinctively trying to pat his shoulder as if that would somehow ease the pain. “I didn’t mean to! You just—scared me, and I—I panicked!”

Oscar straightened slightly, still rubbing his abs where I’d jabbed him, his expression teetering between pain and mischief. “I thought I was gonna end up on the floor.” He let out a breathless laugh, eyes sparkling despite his over-the-top suffering. “You’ve got some serious reflexes.”

I glanced down, my gaze lingering on the spot where I’d made contact. Even through his t-shirt, I could feel the distinct firmness of his abs—hard as a rock, like something carved from stone rather than skin and muscle. It was like hitting a brick wall disguised as a human. My cheeks heated as the realization sunk in, and I quickly pulled my hand away, trying to mask my flustered reaction with an awkward laugh.

“Next time, announce yourself!” I shot back, still breathless from the sudden surge of adrenaline. “Or, you know, maybe just don’t sneak up on me when I’m in the middle of a conversation.”

Oscar straightened fully, his grin widening, and he offered me a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am. Lesson learned. I’ll approach with caution—and maybe a helmet—next time.”

The girls burst into laughter, Mae doubling over as she clapped her hands. “Nice one, Oscar. Just try not to get yourself KO’d next time.”

Edie was practically crying with laughter, holding her stomach. “I’ve never seen anyone get taken out by a breakfast elbow before. That was amazing.”

Hattie chimed in, wiping a tear from her eye. “Oscar, you’ve got to work on your stealth skills. Or at least your reflexes. She got you good.”

I was still blushing, torn between embarrassment and pride at my unintentional takedown. “Maybe don’t sneak up on people who are talking about their city adventures,” I said, giving him a playful glare. “I almost knocked the wind out of you.”

Oscar straightened up, still rubbing his side but grinning like he’d just won a game he didn’t know he was playing. “Noted. I’ll keep my distance when you’re in storytelling mode—didn’t realize I’d need a bulletproof vest just to get your attention,” he teased, his voice laced with that familiar playful confidence. He gave me a mock bow, adding, “But hey, it’s not every day I get nearly floored by someone half my size. Impressive, really.”

Mae, who had been watching the whole scene unfold with wide-eyed amusement, chimed in, barely able to contain her laughter. “Honestly, I think you got off easy. If she can take you down with an elbow, just imagine what she could do with a roundhouse kick. You better stay on her good side.”

Hattie snorted, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, Oscar, if she’d been holding a frying pan, you’d be out cold right now. I’d pay to see that fight.” She shot me a wink, clearly enjoying her brother’s over-the-top reaction. “Nice job, by the way. Most people just tell him to buzz off, but you? You went straight for the kill.”

I was still blushing, torn between embarrassment and a tiny bit of pride at my unintentional takedown. “Maybe don’t sneak up on people who are talking about their city adventures,” I said, giving him a playful glare.

Oscar chuckled, his grin never faltering. “Lesson learned. I’ll approach with a white flag next time.” He rubbed his abs one last time, his expression softening as he glanced at me. “But hey, consider me officially intrigued by DC and whatever other hidden skills you’ve got. Might have to keep my distance, but I’m not going anywhere.”

Edie was wiping away tears of laughter, her cheeks flushed from the hilarity. “This is officially the best breakfast we’ve had in ages. Who knew we’d get a free Oscar takedown with our pancakes?” She raised her glass in mock celebration. “To the unexpected and unintentional, but very satisfying, smackdown of the day!”

Oscar shot her a look of mock offense but couldn’t keep from laughing himself. “Alright, alright, I get it. I’m the morning entertainment. But just you wait, I’ll get my revenge—when you least expect it.”

I smirked, still feeling the lingering tingle in my elbow and the rush of adrenaline from the whole absurd encounter. “I’ll be ready. But remember, sneak attacks don’t end well around here.”

Oscar held up his hands in surrender, the playful banter still dancing in his eyes. “Point taken. No more stealth moves—at least not without a warning. But hey,” he added, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper as he leaned in just a bit closer, “I guess that means I’ll just have to find new ways to get under your skin.”

His words sent a small thrill down my spine, the challenge hanging between us like an unspoken promise. It was impossible not to smile, the line between annoyance and attraction blurring further with every quip and every lingering look.

We all settled back around the table, the remnants of breakfast spread out like the aftermath of a lively party. Mae was still giggling into her juice, and Hattie was busy piling pancakes onto her plate, but the atmosphere was lighter now, filled with an easy camaraderie that made the whole morning feel like a scene out of a feel-good movie. I scooped up some scrambled eggs, trying to act casual, but every now and then, I’d catch Oscar sneaking a glance my way, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Pass the syrup?” Oscar asked, leaning in closer than necessary, his arm brushing against mine as he reached for the bottle. It was a small touch, barely noticeable, but it sent a little jolt through me, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes playfully.

“Careful,” I said, handing it over with a smirk. “Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself with this dangerous syrup. It’s a real menace.”

Oscar grinned, pouring a generous amount onto his pancakes. “Yeah, well, I’ll try to handle it without getting taken out by a rogue condiment. But thanks for the concern.”

Hattie snorted, shaking her head as she munched on her toast. “You two are like a sitcom. Seriously, how are we supposed to eat when it’s all banter and sneak attacks?”

Mae nodded in agreement, waving her fork in the air for emphasis. “Exactly. We need a warning before you two start up again. I almost choked on my juice.”

I laughed, grabbing another slice of fruit. “Don’t worry, we’ll try to keep the drama to a minimum. Breakfast is a sacred time, after all.”

Edie set down her fork, glancing at the clock on her phone. “Speaking of time, it’s still early enough that we could hit the market before it gets too hot. We need to grab some stuff for tonight anyway.”

Oscar perked up, leaning back in his chair. “The market sounds good. It’s not far, and we can get there before the sun decides to fry us alive. Plus, we can stock up on snacks. I’m thinking... fresh pastries, some local olives, maybe something sweet?”

Mae grinned, tapping her fingers on the table. “Count me in. I want to see what kind of cool stuff they have. And maybe pick up something to annoy Hattie. It’s like, a sibling rite of passage.”

Hattie rolled her eyes but smiled, taking a sip of her coffee. “Sure, Mae. I’ll make sure to keep you far away from anything that looks remotely like a musical instrument. I don’t need another round of impromptu concert performances.”

I glanced around the table, feeling a swell of excitement at the idea of exploring the local market with them. It was the kind of spontaneous plan that felt like the perfect way to spend the morning—just wandering around, sampling local food, and maybe picking up a few souvenirs. And, of course, the thought of more time spent with Oscar, in and out of playful jabs, wasn’t exactly unappealing.

“Sounds like a plan,” I said, pushing back my plate and stretching my arms. “But we better go soon before it really heats up out there. I’m not trying to become a melted puddle on the sidewalk.”

Mae let out a dramatic groan, fanning herself with a napkin. “Seriously, I already feel like I’m halfway to becoming a human popsicle. Let’s move before I turn into a puddle of regrets.”

Oscar chuckled, leaning back in his chair as he finished the last of his juice. “Don’t worry, Mae. We’ll keep you hydrated. And who knows? Maybe you’ll find a portable fan to add to your collection of weird market finds.”

Mae shot him a playful glare. “I’m not the one who bought that weird wooden frog last time, Oscar. That was all you. But if I find a fan, I’m buying it. Consider it an investment in my survival.”

Oscar held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, but if anyone finds a fan that also doubles as a weapon, I call dibs. You know, just in case I need to defend myself from any more surprise attacks.” He shot me a teasing look, and I couldn’t help but smile.

Edie laughed, wiping her hands on a napkin as she pushed her chair back. “Oscar, the day you need to defend yourself from anything other than your own bad decisions is the day we all need to start worrying.” She grabbed her sunglasses from the table, slipping them on with a flourish. “But I’ll keep an eye out for a fan-weapon hybrid. Seems like something that could really elevate your whole ‘I’m constantly under attack’ vibe.”

Oscar feigned offense, clutching his chest dramatically. “You wound me, Edie. But you know what? I’ll take the fan and the survival bragging rights. And when we’re all sweating buckets, just remember who thought ahead.”

Hattie shook her head, tossing her empty juice cup in the trash. “Let’s just get to the market before you guys end up buying the weirdest stuff just for the sake of it. We’re here for essentials, remember?”

Mae snorted, throwing her arm around Hattie’s shoulders as they headed toward the door. “Speak for yourself, Hattie. Some of us are here for the thrill of the hunt. And maybe a sun hat that screams ‘I’m on vacation and I don’t care.’”

Oscar turned to me, his eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. “What about you? Got any market goals today? Weird trinkets, secret weapon fans, or just here to keep me out of trouble?”

I pretended to consider it, tapping my chin thoughtfully. “I think my goal is to keep you in just the right amount of trouble. Can’t have you getting too comfortable.” I winked, enjoying the easy flow of our banter, the way it felt like slipping into a well-worn routine despite how new it all was.

Oscar laughed, a low, warm sound that sent a flutter through my chest. “Deal. I’ll keep it interesting. And if I find anything particularly ridiculous, you’ll be the first to know.”

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author's note: a double update for my lovelies, so sorry i didn't update on sunday <3, i hope you enjoy chapters 5 and 6!!

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