#and imagine when we get to Matilda

[the-blossica-fan]

Vertin eventually just makes her list for the Arcanists she has shorter by combining the names of those who are in a relationship.

Blossica, Isokania, Windla, Kantilda; and there is probably more

On one hand it saves a lot of paper in the long run!

On the other: Vertin, please be prepared for if anyone found out 😭

You know, I think Vertin writes or has written fanfiction, she just seems like the kind to have

She probably has thought about it in her many sessions of "I'm so bored I'd do anything not to be" and came up with those.

It all started with a joke from X about something he read once from a coworker and ever since she has been thinking about it.

No one knows, or at least no one SHOULD know.

She also probably gives the "I know what you are" look to some of the most in denial members of her squad (cough cough Matilda). This is Vertin we're talking about, she knows.

The one who is the closest to finding out is actually Madam Z. She's barely in the suitcase but has the most secretive talks about the foundation in Vertin's room for privacy.

Now Madam Z is suspicious. God save Vertin.

I think I went off the rails with this one, it just sparked some electricity in my brain, I apologize. Anyway

I think she has some fun making some names for the ones in a relationship, and since it saved her a lot of time, she will not stop.

Not until she gets found out

[holyblonded]

choices | always sunny in australia

pairings: matildas x teen!reader, sam kerr x teen!reader

summary: you’re deadline of choosing a club is drawing to a close

warnings: tad bit of anxiety

notes: i love writing this series but she doesn’t have a name yet 😭 also please tell me where you want her to go!!

Barcelona, Arsenal, Chelsea, Lyon, Bayern—the list goes on. Ever since your debut with the Matildas, your phone hasn’t stopped buzzing with offers. Some of the biggest clubs in the world want you, and yet, the idea of actually making a choice feels impossible.

You’ve never played for a professional club before. Just your school team—a high-level program that ran things almost professionally, but still, it wasn’t this. This is something entirely different.

And it terrifies you.

Luckily, you had been fortunate enough to run into Nicole— literally. You had bumped into her on the street, and somehow, a simple conversation had led to her becoming your manager. She was American, well-connected in the American football world, and, most importantly, someone who quickly understood you. She had a way of grounding you when your thoughts spiraled, and she had spent the past few weeks constantly reminding you:

“Kid, it’s going to be alright,” she told you over the phone more times than you could count. “You have all these offers because they know you’re great. Because you deserve to be here. The potential? That’s just a bonus.”

It helped, at least for a little while. But now, being in camp with the Tillies, you realize something. You really should have kept this whole thing a secret.

The moment you step onto the pitch for training, it starts.

“So…” Ellie drawls, stretching out beside you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Lyon’s looking nice, huh? France, big club, great team chemistry…”

“Mate, don’t listen to her,” Steph interrupts, rolling her eyes. “Arsenal is the place to be. Proper football, historic club. You’d fit right in.”

Caitlin nods along. “Arsenal’s a family, you know. You’d love it.”

You open your mouth to respond, but then—

“Oi, don’t fill her head with that nonsense.” Sam appears, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Chelsea, Kiddo. That’s where legends are made. London is blue, everyone knows that.”

Mini, who had been listening quietly, grins and jumps in. “Or, you could not go to London and join Westham. Come on, imagine it—me, Kristie, and Harper anytime you want.”

“You’re really using your child as bait?” Macca snickers.

“She loves Harper,” Mini argued. “Why are you working against me? We are trying to get her to Westham together.”

You groan, shaking your head as they all start bickering. It’s a full-blown debate now, the pros and cons of each club being thrown around like a transfer market panel show. Even Kyra joins in, throwing out a case for Arsenal again (and, unsurprisingly, getting an eye roll from Sam and Mini).

It’s all meant to be playful, but after a while, it starts to feel like too much. Too many voices, too many opinions, too much pressure. Your chest tightens, and you step back, suddenly needing space.

“I—I need a sec,” you mutter before quickly slipping away from the group.

You should have known they wouldn’t stop at training.

The moment you step into the weight room, water bottle in hand, you feel multiple sets of eyes lock onto you. A chill runs down your spine.

“Oh no,” you mutter.

“Oh yes,” Ellie grins, draping herself over the bench press like she’s been waiting for this moment. “Weight room negotiations, baby.”

Alanna claps her hands together, looking far too pleased with herself. “Alright, Sunny. It’s simple, they are prepared to sweeten the deal.”

You blink. “What?”

Steph crosses her arms, tilting her head. “Think of it as… recruitment incentives.”

Mini steps forward first, completely serious. “If you come to West Ham, Kristie, Macca, and I will take you in, no questions asked. You’d have a proper home, actual home-cooked meals, and Harper already loves you. Plus, family. Can’t put a price on that.”

You hesitate. That… that actually sounds really nice.

Ellie shakes her head. “Please. You belong at Lyon. Think about it—France, a club filled with legends, the best players in the world. Plus, French food. And if you come, I’ll personally make sure you get the best local recommendations.”

Alanna snickers, clearly enjoying the chaos. “Ohhh, big promises being made.”

Mini narrows her eyes at Ellie. “You can’t even speak French.”

“I am learning,” Ellie shoots back. “Another pro, language immersion. Learn French from the French with a fresh croissant in hand.”

Steph, watching it all unfold, casually chimes in. “Or, you could just pick Arsenal and not have to deal with all that.”

Caitlin leans against the squat rack, looking casual. “And, Arsenal will pay for your flights if you ever want to visit home. Think about it. Free trips home.”

Kyra nods. “I second that.”

Macca, who has been listening with amusement, finally chimes in. “You come to West Ham, and I’ll teach you how to do a proper Aussie barbecue. None of that tourist nonsense.”

At this point, you’re just laughing. “You guys are insane.”

“Insane, or genius?” Ellie smirks.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head as you grab a dumbbell. “You really want me to pick your teams, huh?”

Sam shrugs. “Nah, no pressure.” Then she grins. “But Chelsea’s the move.”

Alanna just chuckles as you let out a groan, watching the chaos unfold. “This is so much better than any TV show.”

You find Sam at the edge of the pitch after training, taking a breather by herself, her gaze fixed on the horizon. It’s rare for her to be alone, and you figure this might be the perfect time to talk.

You hesitate, standing a few feet away, unsure if you should approach. After all, she’s been nothing but relentless in pushing Chelsea your way. But then, you remind yourself that she’s been your teammate long enough to know when something’s off.

She turns when she hears you approach, an easy smile spreading across her face. “Alright, kid, what’s up?”

You let out a breath, not sure how to phrase it. “I, uh… I’ve been thinking about the whole transfer thing. I just… I don’t know what to do. Like, everyone’s got their opinions, you know?” You look at her, meeting her eyes. “I don’t know where to go.”

Sam’s eyes soften, and she motions for you to sit down beside her. “Of course, mate. You want to talk about it?”

You sit down, a little closer than usual. The weight of your decision feels heavier now that it’s all real, and Sam seems to sense that.

“You’ve got a lot of people pushing you to choose their team,” Sam continues, her voice calm but not dismissive. “It’s hard not to feel like you’re making the wrong choice when so many people have their own agendas.” She smirks. “I’ll admit, I’ve got my own agenda, obviously.” She pauses, then glances at you, tone changing to something quieter, more sincere. “But I’m gonna put that aside for a second, alright?”

You look at her, a little surprised. “Wait, what?”

“I know I’ve been pushing you toward Chelsea. I’ve been doing it since you got here, but,” Sam exhales, her smile fading as she turns her focus forward again, “I think I might’ve been going about it wrong. It’s not about where I want you to go. It’s about what’s gonna make you feel right, you know?”

You blink, a bit shocked by the shift in her tone. You’ve always known Sam as the kind of person who goes after what she wants with everything she’s got, and yet here she is, backing off.

“You’ve been so caught up in everyone’s opinions,” she continues, her voice low and gentle, “and I get it. I really do. But at the end of the day, it’s your decision. You’re the one who has to be happy with it. You’re the one who has to live with it. Not me, not Mini, not Caitlin or anyone else. You. It’s your future, your career.”

She pauses, looking at you, as if waiting for you to process what she’s saying.

You can feel the lump in your throat start to form, and you swallow, nodding slowly. “I just… I don’t want to mess it up. Everyone keeps saying this is a huge step, and I feel like I’m about to make the wrong one.”

Sam chuckles softly, leaning back on her hands. “Listen, I’ve been in your shoes, more times than I can count. The pressure to make the perfect decision, the fear of making the wrong move… but you know what? There’s no such thing as the perfect move. There’s just the one that feels right for you at the time. And yeah, sometimes that can change. Sometimes, you’ll feel unsure, and that’s okay. That’s part of the journey.”

She turns to face you fully now, her eyes kind, but serious. “What I want for you, what I really want, is for you to pick the place where you’re gonna be comfortable. Not the place where you think you’ll get the most fame, or the most money, or even the best team on paper. I want you to pick the place where you’ll wake up every day and feel like you belong. Where the coach sees you for who you are, not just the next big thing. Where your teammates become your family, where you can grow without all the noise.”

You feel a weight lifting from your shoulders, and you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.

“That’s all it comes down to?” you ask, still processing. “Being comfortable?”

Sam smiles warmly. “Yeah. Because you’re gonna face challenges no matter where you go. But if you’re comfortable, if you know deep down that you’re in the right place, you’ll be able to handle those challenges with a clear head. And if things don’t work out? That’s okay, too. You always have the option to move on. Nothing’s permanent, especially in football.”

Her words settle over you, and for the first time since the whole transfer thing started, you start to feel a little more at ease.

“So… I should stop worrying about everyone else, huh?”

Sam shrugs with a grin. “Not stop worrying. But take our opinions with a grain of salt. At the end of the day, it’s your gut that’s gonna tell you where to go. Trust that.”

You nod, feeling lighter. “Thanks, Sam. Really. That… that actually helps a lot.”

She pats you on the back. “Anytime, kid. I’m always here. But next time, pick Chelsea, alright?” she teases, the smirk back on her face.

You laugh, feeling like a weight’s been lifted off your chest. For the first time in weeks, the pressure doesn’t seem so unbearable. It’s not about making the ‘perfect’ choice anymore. It’s about making the one that feels like the best fit for you. And that, somehow, feels right.

You should have really expected it to continue onto the pitch.

The teams are mixed for the scrimmage, but that doesn’t stop the recruitment attempts.

The second you receive a pass from Mini, Ellie, who is on the opposing team, immediately tries to sweet talk you instead of pressing.

“Hey, mate,” she grins, jogging backward. “Think about it— Lyon. France. The best club in the world. You could be teammates with Renard. With Horan. With Diani. And of course, DVD.”

You shove the ball past her, shaking your head. “Not happening, Ellie.”

Across the field, Mini sprints to your side. “West Ham, Sunny! Think about it, me, Kristie, Harper. You’d have a family there.”

Caitlin intercepts a pass and grins at you. “Or, you could be with us at Arsenal, playing beautiful football and winning trophies.”

Steph steals the ball next and points at you as she runs past. “Arsenal.”

Alanna, of course, is eating it all up. She jogs past you, arms crossed. “You know, if you don’t decide soon, I could start some transfer rumors. Just saying.”

“Alanna, don’t,” you groan.

She smirks. “I dunno, mate. ‘Tilies Young Star Leaning Towards Move to—’”

You throw your hands up. “Enough!”

Everyone stops, waiting. The whole team is looking at you, expecting an answer.

You exhale sharply. “I already made my decision with Nicole in the middle of camp. I’m going to sign with-“

[vettelsvee]

TEA WITH THE PRINCESSES | Sebastian Vettel

PART OF ONCE UPON A WISH SERIES ˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ 2K FOLLOWERS EVENT ✧ F1 ROYAL AU

⋆ PAIRING: King!Sebastian Vettel x Nanny!Reader ⋆ SUMMARY: While playing a tea party with princesses Emily and Matilda, they confess to you that their daddy might be in love with you. To your surprise, Sebastian confesses to you that he's been listening all the time ⋆ WORD COUNT: 2142 ⋆ VEE'S NOTES: Third fic of the 2k event! Hope you like it and, if so, reblogs and comments are truly appreciated! Thank you so much for reading <3 ↳ LET'S TALK/REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

The pink satin hat the girls made you wear was too small, but you couldn’t stop smiling from one corner of the tiny table, full of porcelain little cups filled with imaginary coffee, chocolate, and tea, while three very serious faces stared directly at you.

Princesses Emily and Matilda, aged 8 and 7, alongside Mr. Whiskers, a stuffed rabbit, seemed to be taking their tea time with you very seriously today.

“Miss Nanny, you’re holding the cup in the wrong way,” Matilda said in a very serious voice, never breaking character.

You noticed. You exaggeratedly corrected your grip on the cup while repositioning yourself better in the little chair.

“My apologies, Miss Matilda. I need to review the etiquette guide.”

Emily nodded and pretended to take a sip from her cup.

“You must remember that having tea with the princesses of Grendwalt is a very important moment,” said the older sister. Then she leaned in and whispered to you, “Remember: we’re pretending to sign some important papers for world peace, like daddy does when he meets King Michael and Prince Mick.”

“Yes, that’s right, I totally forgot. Sorry, ” you whispered back, nicely. Then you composed yourself and looked between the girls. “So, what exactly are we negotiating in the end?”

“What flavor will we make the cookies this afternoon!” Matilda replied excitedly, earning a stern look from her older sister.

“The peace treaty,” Emily corrected. “It’s a very important matter we need to discuss.”

“But there are other more important things to talk about, Emily! Do you remember what we had to tell Miss Nanny? It was veeeeery important!”

You blinked, surprised.

“You girls have something to tell me?”

The two sisters looked at each other and started giggling quietly.

You knew those two were up to something, and didn’t seem to be anything good.

“Girls? What is that thing you want to tell me?” you insisted, getting a bit more serious.

“It’s just that…” Emily began, but Matilda interrupted:

“The other day we were talking about daddy and you.”

You set your cup down a bit harder than you intended.

“We think you’re daddy’s favorite person!” Emily continued, placing her cup down carefully and with a very elegant manner.

“What?”

Your eyes widened. You also knew your answer had been too abrupt, but what else could you do? It had shocked you.

You might have thought they were joking, but… drunks and children were usually the only ones who told the truth.

Matilda gently placed a hand over yours, as if trying to comfort you:

“You make daddy laugh a lot. And he smiles a lot when he sees you. Yesterday, I caught him looking at you like this!”

She made the silliest sweet face a girl her age could make: hands on her cheeks, and eyes and mouth wide open.

You couldn’t help but let out a little laugh.

“You must be imagining things, girls.”

“No!” Matilda shouted, waving her little hands. “He also stops reading whenever you talk and just stares at you. And one day I saw him pick a flower and say it was your favorite!”

“I think this tea needs cookies. I’ll go get some…”

You stood up quickly, desperate to leave the room. You weren’t ready to hear the fantasies of two little girls about their father, especially because you knew it could lead to them seeing you as their mother… and that was the last thing you wanted.

You walked toward the door without lifting your head, just as you were so used to doing every time you walked through the palace. Not even the girls’ voices pulled you out of your trance.

What did was bumping into King Sebastian’s chest.

“That’s what we were trying to tell you, Miss Nanny! Daddy came to see us!”

Your eyes lifted instinctively at Matilda’s words and met Sebastian’s, his face lit up with an amused smile, holding a tray full of pastries in one hand.

“Do you mind if I join your negotiations?” he asked as you stepped back from him and he greeted his daughters, now at your side.

Emily positioned herself beside you, elbowed you gently in the ribs, and you knelt down next to her.

“Now’s your chance!” the little one whispered affectionately.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” you said as you stood and bowed. You knew Sebastian didn’t like that, but protocol was protocol. “Join us, and feel free to further ruin what’s left of my dignity,” you added in a lower voice as you walked toward the table.

“I suppose you mean enjoy the snack with you all and have a little chat, right?” he replied kindly, setting the tray down on the table and sitting on one of the chairs only to fall to the floor and stay there.

“You can be Princess Vettel, daddy!” Matilda said while putting a tiara on him.

“I’ll try to strike the best agreements, I promise,” he replied, looking at the tiara.

The girls laughed so hard when their father fully joined the game that they almost knocked everything over. You couldn’t help joining them, setting aside the coldness you usually maintained in the king’s presence out of respect… and because you couldn’t afford to let your guard down, no matter how much he tried to convince you to act naturally.

The tea party continued with very important debates, like how many marshmallows a unicorn could eat (according to Matilda, 12, despite Sebastian’s insistence that unicorns didn’t exist), or what to do for Emily’s upcoming birthday.

As the hours passed, the sugar high began to wear off. The girls ended up on the sofa in their playroom reading stories, where they eventually fell asleep.

Sebastian carried them to their bedrooms, just next door, while you decided to start cleaning up and putting everything away. When the king returned, you pretended not to notice how he was watching you from the doorway, arms crossed.

“You were listening,” you said flatly.

“Yes. To everything the girls were saying, actually,” he replied without a hint of shame.

Still holding the tiny teacups in your hand, you slowly turned toward him.

“And you let them say all that? Even knowing that...?”

“I was curious to see where the conversation would go,” he interrupted. “Besides, Matilda seemed quite excited. Though, that thing about the flowers…”

“Did you really pick a flower and think of me just because it was my favorite type?” you asked, curious and, maybe, a little moved.

“Since you arrived you haven’t stopped talking about how much you love daisies,” Sebastian answered calmly. “Plus, a lot of the dresses you wear have daisy patterns. And you tend to draw them all the time in your sketchbook…”

“So I can see you’ve been paying quite a bit of attention to me, haven’t you, Your Majesty?”

Sebastian didn’t answer. Instead, he just smiled and scratched the back of his neck, quite nervous.

There was a pause. Not an uncomfortable one: surprisingly, it felt peaceful. You continued tidying up the room, and it didn’t surprise you when Sebastian joined in, helping you with no worry. After all, it wasn’t the first time he helped with tasks you were technically hired to handle.

“You’re really good with them.”

“You mean at bossing the future queen of Grendwalt and her sister around during tea parties?” you joked as you finished sweeping the floor.

“I mean that you love them. A lot, by the way. It’s obvious. And they love you too, so much. Since you arrived, they’ve been so much happier. I haven’t seen them like this since Hanna passed, and they were so young back then…”

You smiled politely, though sincerely, even if something twisted a little inside your chest.

“You’re also quite good at eavesdropping, I must say,” you replied, perhaps a bit more sharply than you should have.

“It’s the only way to know if my daughters are plotting to overthrow me and take other the kingdom before I die.”

Then he stepped closer. Not enough to overwhelm you, but enough to take your full attention. Even with just a small space between you both, your heart began to race.

Yes, you couldn’t help being somewhat drawn to King Sebastian, but it was impossible for anything to ever happen. He was a king, a widower still half in mourning, carrying the weight of an entire nation on his shoulders. You were just the nanny, even if you both knew there was something else behind your employment contract that he hadn’t yet revealed.

You also knew secrets, things your mother had once shared with his late wife. And though you knew one day you'd have to tell him who you really were… that time had not yet come.

No. You couldn’t allow yourself to fall for Sebastian Vettel. And, even more, importantly: you couldn’t allow him to fall for you.

“I think they’re right,” Sebastian said, breaking into your thoughts.

“About unicorns being real?”

He shook his head, laughing softly.

“No. About me smiling more when you’re around. And how I stop reading just to stare at you.”

You opened your mouth, searching for something clever or witty to say, but all that came out was a stammer.

Sebastian laughed again with that real kind of laugh; the honest one he used when he let go of his role as king and became just Sebastian Vettel, father of Emily and Matilda, the man who cared more about others than himself.

“You make everything a little easier,” he continued, voice softer now. “With you… it’s easy to forget everything else. Just by being yourself, with me, I can be yourself, specially with you. I’m not sure if I’m making sense out of this stupid speech, or if I’m not saying all that I should be saying…”

“And what’s keeping you from saying the rest, Sebastian?”

You looked at him directly, wanting, truly wanting, to know the answer, because you were certain there was more to it. And yes, you were aware that no, it wasn’t just about feelings… even though perhaps that part felt the most impossible.

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he walked over to the tray he’d brought and picked up a chocolate cookie, the kind you made so well and that he particularly liked.

“Maybe I like all of this too much to ruin it with unnecessary confessions. For now.”

His eyes made it clear he meant every word. You mentally cursed yourself for hoping he’d actually confess something real. And then, as always, your mind started spinning with all the possible scenarios that could happen if he had said what you were fearing, or hoping, he would.

“And you really won’t take the risk? Even knowing you could lose more than what you already have?” you asked, meeting his gaze, offering him the same sincerity he had shown you.

“No. At least, not for now,” he said, handing you half of the cookie he’d just broken in two. “But I would like to ask you something: will you join us for tea again tomorrow? Same time as today?”

You took the cookie and sighed.

It wasn’t what you had hoped, but at least he hadn’t put on a mask or shut you out.

He was still the same, still treating you just as kindly as ever. And you had to hold on to that, even though you couldn’t help but want to take more from what Sebastian could give you.

“Maybe I will,” you said. “But only if one day you and I can have one. Alone.”

“I’ll try to make space in my schedule. And for the conversation we both know we need to have.”

Sebastian smiled and opened his arms to give you a hug, which you accepted even knowing you shouldn’t, even knowing it might compromise you. Both of you.

But neither of you cared when you let yourself fall into his embrace, and he let you rest your head on his chest, holding you close like he knew you both needed this moment.

Because the truth was you both really did.

You needed it as a way to comfort yourselves. For everything you had lost. For who you had lost.

Behind you, without your noticing, Emily and Matilda were very much awake, watching you like they were witnessing a real-life Disney princess movie.

“See, Tilly? Daddy and Miss Nanny are totally in love! But they’re doing that thing where grownups pretend not to be,” the older sister whispered.

“I hope Miss Nanny becomes our new mommy one day,” Matilda replied softly, with a hint of doubt. “But I don’t know if she’d want to... Do you think Daddy would still love her if we tell him what we heard Miss Nanny said to those scary men in suits about mommy and her mommy keeping a secret?”

[mistymisfit]

How he shows he loves you

Summary: 3 short blurbs on how Jason shows reader he loves them.

warnings: mentions of reader being kidnapped, but descriptions are very vague lol.

wc: 2k

a/n: This isn't edited at all, but it has been sitting on y drafts for wayyyy too long

Jokes

Disappointment is not the initial reaction he hoped for when he came in through your front door. Shock would've been a more appropriate response, since your music was too loud and you didn't hear him come in. He decided to pull a prank and scare you, silently making his way to the kitchen where you were having a karaoke session. Which given how quiet he could be when he wanted to, it was not that hard at all. Now Jason tries to hold back his laugh, a boyish grin plastered across his features that he wouldn't be able to suppress even if he tried.

"What are you making?" He whispers next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. If he was being honest, he'd say he is concerned about how long it takes you to notice there's someone else in your apartment. But right now, he's too caught up in the bliss of being in your presence that he can't bring himself to care.

"Oh, you're early." You say after the scream you let out when he comes up behind you, seemingly out of nowhere to whisper in your ear.

"Why? You're mad?" He replies, hiding his insecurity behind sass. What if you didn't want him there? What if he's overstayed his welcome? But before he can come up with some convoluted reason for why you don't want him anymore, you're stopping him.

"I just wanted to have this done by the time you got here" You signal back at the food with your head. And he looks over, finally realizing you were cooking his favorite meal.

"What's the special occasion?"

"Nothing," You blush "Can't a girl just cook for her boyfriend?"

"Not unless she wants me to make her my wife," He teases, you roll your eyes, growing accustomed to these types of jokes. Once he reached a certain level of domesticity and was comfortable enough in the relationship, he started to talk about how he was gonna marry you. Jason would even jokingly refer to you as his wife. At first, he made you blush, now it was just the usual routine.

You would lie if you said it didn't excite you and make your feelings all mushy when he did that, your heart felt warmer when he showed how committed he was to you. You felt giddy whenever he said "When we get married", he never said if we get married, he was very certain about wanting to spend the rest of his life with you. Your heart skipped a beat whenever he'd drop a detail of his dream wedding, "We're having a chocolate cake, like the one in Matilda" or "I'm kissing the fuck out of you on that altar". One time he said: "If you liked that, imagine what our honeymoon would be", that one got him a soft slap on his chest as you chuckled.

"How did you get here anyways?" You change the subject, going back to your cooking.

"Used the front door" He answers with a smirk, arms wrapping around your waist as he steps closer to you.

"Really? How?"

"Cause I'm your boyfriend," He replies like it's the most obvious thing in the world. It is, but he didn't need to say it like that. "I have been for a while, and you gave me your keys"

"Damn, my doorman just lets anyone in these days" You joke and you can hear the little "tsk" that comes from his mouth as he lets go of you.

"I can leave and come back from your window" He's kidding, but you know him well enough to know he's willing to follow through just for the sake of doing a bit. Instead, you hold his arm, pulling him back to you in between giggles.

"Please, I finally have boot imprint-free windowsills"

He laughs, it's real laughter, not his usual chuckle. It makes your heart work overtime as you watch his smile reach his eyes so much that he ends up closing them. He pulls you in for a kiss before he lets you go to finish the dinner you worked so hard on. The food that when he takes a bite from has him asking:"You want a summer or spring wedding?"

Touch

Even if he's less inclined to admit this, Jason knew that before you met he was touch starved. And now he can't get enough of it, he's constantly on your side or with his hands on you in any way, shape or form. It came as a shock--to him-- how badly he needed you sometimes, he never felt this about anyone before. He swears he's not usually this clingy.

You are walking down the street and suddenly you're not holding his hand or bicep and he's grabbing your hand and putting it back. He could never be one of those boyfriends who don't notice when their partner stops holding their hand, if you ever so that he's immediately holding your hand again and asking what's wrong.

Sometimes his touch is protective. You are going through a crowded space and he has his hand placed on the small of your back, guiding you and making sure nothing ever happens to you. It turns a little too protective when another guy tries talking to you and he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in for a kiss.

But most of the time, he's all alone with you, lying down on bed or a couch, and he's tracing shapes on your uncovered skin. He leans his head closer when you play with his hair or God forbid you touch his face, it has his knees giving out. He loves feeling your weight on top of him, loves feeling you're real and that you're with him and not going anywhere. Maybe he sneaks a hand under your clothes if he feels daring, and your attention doesn't shift. It amazes him how he's allowed this, how much access you give him. And over everything else, it doesn't have to be sexual. Casual skin to skin contact did not have to mean anything else; it was just that.

With you he's experienced that not every touch has violence behind it, not every contact has an ulterior motive. So he's so gentle with you, maybe he is not good with words, so he makes up for it. You know he shows his affection in action rather than words, he's not that far from worshiping the ground you walk on. He's specially kind when you know you're vulnerable; he presses kisses to your face as much as he can and to your shoulder blades when he can't. You know he's a big softy since you've pretended to be asleep multiple times as he played with your hair. An more than once you've heard him whisper hushed love confessions he never thought you'd hear. His hands are rough with criminals but you'd never be able to tell by how kind he's around you.

Priority

Jason wants you to know you can count on him for anything, he makes a point of it by telling you multiple times. You ran out of milk? He's buying it on his way to your place Your apartment needs fixing and your landlord won't help? Problem's solved within the hour. Maybe you got terrible cramps, he's there to help you however you want him to. So it's no surprise to you or anyone that the second you're in danger he drops everything else. You're his number one priority.

"Where is she?" He pushes Bruce for information, which he was adamant in not telling him. Knowing Jason, he'd end up acting before he thinks it through, he'd show up unprepared and end up causing a disaster. Or at least that is what Bruce thinks about the son who plotted his revenge against him for years to the last minute detail.

"Jason" He mutters under his breath.

"I swear to God if I find out someone touched a hair in her head because you wasted time-"

"You go with me or you don't" He threatens "at all."

And Jason loves you so much, he's willing to agree to work with him in a heartbeat. He puts all his resentment aside when he thinks it will help you, if it meant working with the bat and abiding by his rules, then so be it. He'll track down the poor fucker who took you and kill him later. He didn't like being around him, it made him feel tense due to the incredibly strained relationship between the two of them. Bruce loved Jason, but sadly his way of showing it translated quite the opposite way in the younger one's eyes.

Bruce was being too quiet about what happened to you. All he knew was that he couldn't reach you, you were not at any of the usual places, and your friends had no idea where you were either. He checked your apartment and things were perfectly placed, no one had broken in--other than him. Then when he tracked your phone, which he only promised to do in extreme situations like today, he found it inside your purse thrown in some dirty alleyway. That's when his panic hit its peak and turned back to get his red hood gear and ask the bats if they knew anything about you.

He got to a warehouse, standing next to Bruce he decides to push him a bit more to get anything out of him. His mind was killing him with questions, were you okay? what happened? how did he know? and couldn't bear another second next to the stoic figure not willing to tell him anything.

"It's Mad Hatter, he's been taking people off the streets for-"

"Is she okay?" He cuts off, he has no space in his mind for whatever crazy thing he had planned against Batman or the city. Not when he's not sure you're safe, when Bruce won't even tell him if you're alive.

"She should be" He gives in "I'll take care of him, you handle hostages"

That's all he needs, he braces himself before following after Bruce, watching every step he made as it could make the difference between losing you or saving you. Jason's a bit pissed he's relegated to hostages much like he was during his time as Robin but decides against questioning for now. He steps and breathes as quietly as he can while he makes his way past the sign that reads "Wonderland". He silently signals to Bruce that they should split and cover more ground, to which he agreed with a curt nod. His masks allows him to have a better vision in the dark, so he can see how filthy the place was and how worn down the wonderland decorations were. He doesn't know if the man was there, but knowing Bruce he sent him on a path he wasn't likely to find him alone.

He finally finds some of his hostages, two twins laying unconscious on the floor. He tried waking them up to no success; he saw their chests move up and down as they breathed, so he knew he could worry about that later. Moving further, he sees a couple more people, all dressed up as characters like the twins were, in the same state. He then moves to the tea party, where another two kids dressed as the animals in the book sat with their heads on the table. He picks one of them up and rests them in a more comfortable position on the floor using what he could to make a cushion for their head, then does the same with the other kid. He thinks it's the least he could do if he couldn't wake them up. After a nerve-wracking walk through Lewis Caroll's nightmare he finds you, he feels his soul getting back to his body when his eyes finally land on you.

You lay on a floor that resembles a chessboard wearing a white dress and a crown, a little blonde girl with a light blue dress is cuddled up on your arms. He kneels down next to you, whispering your name and grabbing your shoulder to shake you in an almost desperate attempt to wake you.

"Please, please" He's sure if someone could hear how pathetic he sounded, his reputation would be ruined forever.

"Jay?" You manage to mutter under your breath, still not opening your eyes.

"Yes, I'll get you out of here"

"Hm, hats" you hummed, he doubted you were even aware of anything.

"I know, baby"

"off" Your voice was low and it seemed to him that you were fighting to stay awake and losing.

He took off the crown from your head and the headband from "Alice's". Listening to your advice, even if you were barely conscious. Once he confirmed you were okay, he carried you out. Then he came back for the little girl next to you, and so on until everyone was out and hat free. By that time police had arrived, and Batman was handing Jervis' ass to the cops to begin the cycle once more. He holds back, watching from afar to avoid getting caught. He watched as Batman shared a few words with Gordon, then Barbara tuned in to let him know which hospital they were taking you to.

When you wake up he is next to you, holding your hand and with the biggest eye-bags you've ever seen him with. He almost starts crying when you call his name in a hoarse whisper.

"I'm okay,"You whisper, wrapping your arms tightly around him. The scene is too touching as you see someone put a hand on his shoulder and tell him something.

"I'll go tell the doctors you woke up" He excused himself, reluctant even to let go of your hand, much less entertained by the idea of being separated from you too long.

You didn't see him as Jason's frame covered the man behind him but now you notice the one and only Bruce Wayne standing in your hospital room. It was too much to take in.

"Oh, Jason must really love me if he was willing to work with you"

[revxwrites]

The Phoenix Drop Guard

Hiii! Drew the full armor sets of the first few guards of Phoenix Drop we meet! The sword hilts contain the color from which rank they graduated the O'khasis Guard Academy, it's woven into the leather hilt once they receive their weapon.

(Color rank system inspired by this post by laurancezvahlslefteyebrow)

Gonna ramble under the cut hehe!

Garroth

Garroth is purple rank, on the waiting list for the Jury! Malik and Matilda at first were confused when such a high ranking guard came into town, but welcomed him nonetheless. His loadout of choice is a claymore which he somehow wields with a single hand, and a shield.

-

Zenix

Zenix never went to Guard Academy, so he was trained by Garroth. He's considered by technicality a red rank, to which his mentor wove the color into the hilt of his sword. He's the one with the lightest loadout, depending on a bow, and in case things get heated, a short sword (Garroth has no idea where he got it from).

-

Brian

Brian is a tricky one! He was sent to the O'khasis Guard Academy, and never came back the same. He claims to have gotten injured in a 'mission' under his mentor, Ivan. He has yet to reveal what's under his bandages. Due to his mentorship under a warlock, he's a jack of all trades, knowing how to wield practically anything, but his main combo is a sword and shield.

He graduated with an orange rank, but was meant to receive blue. I'll write more on him later.

-

Grey Wind

Honorary member of the Phoenix Drop Guard. He's a tracking dog, a pretty good one at that. The moon charm around his neck and the one Brian carries he uses to communicate with his loyal companion.

-

Dale

Dale graduated with a green rank, practically perfect as second in command as he was before retiring from his duties. He wasn't pleased to find out Brian graduated with orange, but never questioned him for it. He prefers to fight with only a sword, after all nothing beats the classics.

-

In terms of body mass/muscle it goes:

Garroth > Dale > Brian > Zenix

Really tried my best to draw their bodies how i imagine them but it didn't come out perfect.

[jaegeraether]

The Runaway - Chapter 2 (Alexia Putellas x original character slow-burn)

Jae's Masterlist

CHAPTER 2

DELANEY

Most players avoided social media, especially Tik Tok and especially after a match. Delaney, though, was always curious and entertained by it.

There was an overwhelming amount of content following their match. People talking about players, about Delaney’s first time against the Spanish team, about the brutality of it.

Players were shipped with players, rumours started to swirl and most of it was over just the slightest expression one player had given another during the game.

“Guys, Dellie rolling on top of Alexia is my moment of the match for sure.”

“Did you see how she moved her? Argh.”

“They seem to really respect each other!”

“I knew people would sexualise them. She was just getting her out of the way! What I can’t get over is how they fought each other in the midfield. That’s what it’s like to watch Ballon d’Or players against each other. Dellie to get her first this year, I hope!”

“Everybody is talking about Dellie and la Reina but Kyra’s penalty? Maccas three in a row clearances? Steph’s assist from the centre line? Oof. These are the Tillies we love!”

“Turns out the only strategy to work against Baker is to put Alexia onto her. A bit more time and la Reina would have had her.”

Delaney smiled, entertained by the comments. Regardless of if they were good or bad, she knew that none of them understood what it was like to be in the middle of a match, fighting against the Spanish girls.

She did enjoy herself, though. Especially her tussles in the midfield with Alexia. She was every bit as good as she imagined and much more than deserving of the mountain of trophies she’d had. There was a moment after the match when Delaney wondered if she had imagined the strange, natural connection between her and the Spanish Captain, but that was quickly overcome when Alexia had followed her on Instagram immediately after the match.

As with most friendlies, they had another one coming up in just a few days. Unfortunately, Delaney was not allowed to play. Her shoulder had been dislocated in the last few minutes of the previous match, and it was purely by luck that she’d managed to push it back in as she rolled her body over it on the ground.

Instead, she was stuck in a sling and subsequently told off by the medics, who only did so because they had to.

The next game against Spain, she thought they did better. They still lost, but only by a small margin. The game ended in 0-1 to Spain, with the main deficit for the Matildas, their scoring. The midfield fought hard with their renewed passion, and she was working hard on the sideline analysing, pointing out their deficiencies, and making effective changes.

It felt surreal to watch the Spanish team play live though. They were all so talented. The mindset and passion for football that they’d developed at such a young age was evident in how they played. So many of their players were incredible. Mapi, Ona, Aitana, Claudia.

But there were none as good as Alexia. She was a leader. She coached the team while they were on the field, and players listened to everything she had to say. Even the Australians would stop to listen, not knowing a word of Spanish.

While most players focussed on the ball, she was assessing just at Delaney did. Making sure everyone was where they should be. Finding weaknesses and taking advantage of them. Her sight when it came to passing was unrivalled. Her technical ability had her taking on multiple midfielders at once and winning. She made quick, clever decisions that couldn’t be taught to other players defending her. They just needed that same ability.

There’s no way that someone as tall and stocky as Alexia should have been better than someone small and nimble like Aitana. But she was. And it wasn’t about the stats. It was about so much more than that.

Delaney caught Alexia’s gaze a few times during the match. Her face was mainly neutral, but from the frequency in which she looked, she knew there was some curiosity there.

There was one specific moment when Delaney knew Alexia was watching her again. She could feel it, like a spark igniting just beneath her skin. Their eyes locked across the field and Delaney felt the air shift. It was as though time slowed, and her heart skipped a beat - an inexplicable pulling. Alexia’s gaze was steady, confident. But Delaney could see something else there - something unreadable, yet so clear at the same time. And before she could break the moment, Alexia looked away, leaving Delaney to wonder if she had imagined it all.

The game ended, and she entered the field to shake hands. She made sure to let her teammates know how well they did, and how much progress they’d made. She shook hands with the Spanish players too, many who seemed curious about her.

“Sorry for… this…” Cata said in broken English, gesturing to her sling.

“Oh, it’s okay! Just part of the game.”

“I yam glad you are fix.” Cata continued with a grin. She was flirtier than she’d anticipated.

“I’m glad I could sit this one out!”

They chuckled and Cata looked down at her jacket, as if she were about to ask for her jersey.

A strong, familiar voice came from behind her then.

“You apologise?” Alexia said in English to Cata.

“Sí capitana.” Yes, Captain.

Alexia nodded and Cata took the hint to leave, but not before she winked at Delaney, “I see you again.”

“Hasta luego, Cata.” See you later, Cata.

Cata’s excited expression was worth the Google search of some basic Spanish phrases.

It was only as she looked to Alexia that she realised that the Spaniard was slightly taller than her. And then there was her gaze up close. Those golden hazel eyes of hers. When she looked at her, it was something deeper than just that. It felt like… recognition. Like she saw her clearly.

“You speak-” Alexia began.

“No.. no.” Delaney cut off with an apologetic smile. “Un poco… poco.”

Alexia chuckled at that, and it was an adorable sound. Much better than her gasp of pain at the cleat hitting her thigh the previous match. That was not so nice. Though the sound of it right in her ear- fuck. Control yourself.

“How is your thigh?”

She tilted her head. Delaney gestured to her thigh.

“Ah – is.. sore but… a little bit okay.” When Alexia struggled for the word, Delaney didn’t interrupt. She liked the way her brow furrowed, how seriously she took each phrase—as if every word mattered between them. “And.. you?” She looked at her sling, studying it.

“Is okay.” She mimicked cheekily.

Alexia hummed, her eyes scanning over her eyebrow. “Your…” She gestured to her back.

“It’s also okay. Few bruises. But that’s the game.”

Alexia picked up a word, with an empathetic look. “Bruise…?”

“Sí.. ah… muchos?” Yes, many. “But it’s okay.”

Alexia looked as if she didn’t believe she was okay. One eyebrow raised in defiance, and it made her heart skip a beat.

“You are a very good player, la Reina.”

She looked slightly embarrassed and proud. “Muchas gracias.” Thank you very much. Her tongue sneaking between her lips at the word 'gracias' was something she most definitely didn't notice. At all. “Alexia.”

“You don’t like la Reina?”

She paused for a moment, her eyes studying Delaney’s.

“Alexia.” She corrected, softer than before.

“Alexia.” She repeated.

She’d have to be simple to have missed Alexia’s eyes on her lips as she said her name. Her pupils dilating at the word.

She sucked in a breath and extended her good hand. “I’m Delaney.”

“Hola, Danny.” Hello, Danny. Delaney chuckled at the mistake. “Sorry… Delaney.” She said like she couldn't believe her own mistake.

“Well now I prefer Danny.”

They chuckled together. It was immediately evident that there was something here. A spark. A connection. Separated by language but still more than able to understand each other. It was exhilarating but scary at the same time. Delaney didn’t do well with emotional connections. She always had a habit of running or putting boundaries up.

“You are… very good... good player also.”

She bit her lip at the sound of Alexia’s adorable Spanish accent. “Thank you, Alexia.”

“Where you go?”

She tilted her head in confusion.

“Where you… play?” The Spaniard clarified.

“Oh! Uh.. I don’t know..”

Another moment of comfortable silence between them. God, she could sit in those for hours.

“Barcelona?”

Delaney gave her a look. “I’d love to... but the coach doesn’t want me.”

Alexia seemed to remember then what he’d said about not wanting or needing her and opened her mouth to apologise. Delaney touched her arm and felt Alexia lean into it.

“It’s okay. I have an offer from Arsenal that’s enticing. I’m meeting with them soon.”

“You go to them?”

It couldn’t have been easy for Alexia to have such a fragmented conversation in English, but she admired her perseverance. It felt like she wanted the conversation just as much as she did. She wanted to know anything and everything she could about this woman.

“If it feels right when I get there.” Alexia looked like she didn't understand so she put out a simpler word. “Maybe…”

“Ah…”

Yelling from the touchline got their attention as they realised they were the last players on the field. They both began to walk equally as slow toward their teams.

“I yam sorry for… for Pere. He speaks wrong.. about you.” She seemed frustrated with herself as she tried to explain. “He…”

“It’s okay, Alexia.” She reassured. “I don’t think it would be the best idea anyways.”

Alexia stopped walking and frowned again. Was it a bad thing that Delaney wanted to find out what each of her little face expressions meant? “You no want to-”

“Oh, no! I’d love to play for Barcelona. I would learn so much. I just… I’m not needed there. And besides-” She cut herself off, not wanting to say mention the elephant in the room. Alexia had understood the sentence without saying it, though.

Her frown deepened and it was like Delaney could hear her thoughts.

You don’t want to come because of… me?

The Australian stepped forwards and put her hand on Alexia’s perfectly golden arm again. Her fingers brushed against Alexia’s skin and lingered there, enough to notice the warmth of her. She told herself it was for comfort. But part of her didn’t want to let go. Especially when she realised that she was leaning into her ever-so-slightly.

“I’d love to be able to play alongside you one day, Alexia.” She said, her voice quieter than before and more confession than statement. For a second, Alexia didn’t respond, she only looked at her, and Delaney wondered if that silence held all the words neither of them dared spoke.

“ALE!”

“DELLIE!”

The shouts from the groups pulled them from their stupor. But not before Alexia smiled at her one last time.

[russellsppttemplates]

Hi Inês,

Can I request a blurb with dad Lando x Matilda Norris?

Reader goes out for the evening with her friends and Lando has to help his daughter with her homework. And they both end up crying over it because neither understand what are they supposed to do.

I imagine it's math homework (but it can be any kind of homework that's worth crying over, it's up to you 😭)

Note: as someone who isn't innately intelligent, there have been many homeworks that were worth me crying over, but I went with math because that was definitely the one where I shed the most tears 😭)

"Matilda, time for your homework", Lando called from the hall, stepping into your daughter's room and sitting on the chair next to the desk, "we promised mum we would take care of it so let's get to it", he rubbed his hands.

Math had never been his strong suit, but until the third question he was just about fine, looking at the examples and guiding Tilly through it to get to the final answer, checking it at the end pages of the notebook.

"Now, for this one, you have to solve it for both y and x, so you have to choose one to go from and then stick to it before it goes about the same and there's only one letter", Lando explained as Matilda looked at the numbers on her notebook.

It was numbers and letters and she couldn't make sense of them, tears brimming her eyes as anytime she thought about doing something, it didn't go far before she had the chance to write anything down.

"I can't do it", she let out, wiping her tears with her hands, "I don't get it", she mumbled.

"Hey, sweet girl, it's okay", he cooed, rubbing her back and pulling her to him, "we will do this together, Tilly, no one is supposed to get this at the first try", he comforted.

No one is supposed to get it at the first try, and it seemed that at the fourth try, neither could Lando.

"But how did they get the 4? There's not a 4 anywhere here! I'm number four", Lando cried as he brushed his hair to let out the nerves.

"It's okay, dad, I'll just ask the teacher tomorrow, or mum when she comes back", Matilda offered.

"We should call aunt Cisca then, she's very smart - she's the brains of this family, she should know", Lando sniffled, putting his sister on FaceTime.

"Hey guys! How - why does it look like you have been crying?", Cisca said as she looked at the camera.

"Math homework", Matilda and Lando sighed at the same time.

"Turn the camera around so I can see if I can help - it must be bad if it got you to tears. I take is Y/N isn't home?", Cisca mused.

"Yes, she isn't home and everything is falling apart at the seams", Lando retorted.

"It's not like it's our fault, dad - this is hard", Matilda said, pulling an upset Lando into her and hugging him.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[verdurous-heaven]

Pick a pile: If your essence were a CAS song, which one would it be ?

Pick one or more piles based on ur intuition and enjoy the reading. Like and reblog to claim. This is just for entertainment purposes so read it with a bucket full of salt.

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

Pile 4 Pile 5 Pile 6

Pile:1

1. Falling in love 🫶🏼

Back when you were far away

We would go on dates to watch the same movie

And you were imagining sitting next to me

Holding my hand for the whole thing

Falling in love

Falling in love

Deeper than I've felt it before with you, baby

I feel I'm falling in love with all my heart

2. Dark vacay 🖤

In summer, I'm living on p!lls and lines

With someone I love, I don't really like

Been sleeping on the tile and keeping out the light

Then sipping Château Lafitte Rothschild

So come on, come on, dark star, been loving you and I

Can't get enough, dark star, we don't need Brazzers

Feel the world around you, feel the world surround you

Feel the world around you, feel it all around you crash

Extra song: sunsetz

Oracle archetype: the mentor

You're someone who's seen as very wise but ego driven. Who's attached but still compassionate and people cannot get enough of this quality of yours. You're someone who's empowering yet so kind, experienced, supportive but controlling and challenging which is why you're always the talk of the town. You're meant to guide others.

• A very classic example would be yoda from star wars, mr. miyagi from karate kid, dumbledore from the harry potter.

Pile: 2

1. Crush 💞

I wanna line my walls with photographs you sent

Of you lying in your swimsuit on the bed

Can’t live without your love inside me now

I’ll find a way to slip into your skin somehow

I wanna fuck your love slow

Catch my heart, go swim

Feel your lips crush

Hold you here my loveliest friend

2. Opera house 💫

Built an opera house for you in the deepest jungle

And I walked across its stage singing with my eyes closed

I've got a love for you I just can't escape

All of my love for you cuts me like barbed wire

I was meant to love you and always keep you in my life

I was meant to love you,

I knew I loved you at first sight

Extra song: apocalypse

Oracle archetype: the village

You feel like a safe zone even to a stranger. A sense of familiarity and belonging always lingers on to your aura. Your essence is so comforting and cozy that it feels like returning home after a long day at work and finally feeling at peace. You guys are the word "home" personified.

• A very classic example would be haku from spirited away, grandma tala from moana🥹, miss honey from matilda

Pile: 3

1. Hentai 🌚

Told you I wanted to d!e in an airplane crash

Over the ocean, thought it was romantic

But you didn't like it, thought it was stupid, ah

Thinking of me d€ad is making you feel bad

Beautiful hearts are in your eyes

I've been waiting for you to fall for me

And let me in your life

I've been waiting for you

2. Holding you, holding me 🫂

Your love is slow

Hits me and I'm fading

In waterfalls

At night when it's raining

Holding you, holding me

Kissing forever, we'll fall together

Holding you, holding me

Kissing forever, we'll fall together

Holding you, holding me

Kissing forever, we'll fall together

Holding you, holding me

Kissing, you're all I tasted, you're all I tasted

Extra song: sweet

Oracle archetype: the self

You remind me of the lotus in the mud, always there but hidden until u bloom. You are always working on yourself, bettering yourself not for the others but for ur own validation, to impress your own self. The centre of the psyche. Others see both the self and the divine in you. Your greatest strength is your patience and calm mind.

• A very classic example would be simba from the lion king, aang from the avatar, neo from the matrix.

Pile: 4

1. You're all I want 🩷

You would use your songs to say the words you couldn't say

And every word you sang was about you and me

I loved everything you wrote

And when you would sing I felt that my heart was falling

You're all I want

We fucked so hot it left me faded

For all you are

There is no other love, it's only yours

You're all I want, all I love

2. You're the only good thing in my life 🌷

Do what your heart desires

Love is always strange when it just starts

Shouldn't have a care left in the world

Naked, tanning by the swimming pool...

You make me think of storms on the beaches

With all the lights off

Everything is wrong, but it's alright

Everything is wrong, but it's alright

You're the only good thing in my life

Extra song: heavenly

Oracle archetype: the faultline

You're someone who's been strong for too long now. Hidden traumas and suppressed emotions screams to break through at any moment. The vibe is almost like a peaceful and richy-rich family hiding alot of dark secrets. Your life is always in a transition I feel. You might have a split personality or atleast that's how some people like to describe you(and it has nothing to do with ur actual personality dw🫶🏼)

• A very classic example would be tony stark(iron man) from marvel, elsa from frozen, Oedipus, the greek God.

Pile: 5

1. Stop waiting 🪽

In her favorite locket, hiding yellow p!lls

With white wine to chase them, lying on the hills

We kissed until we couldn't breathe

The coldest sand is on the beach

I could win, I could lose

But that's a look I can't refuse

I could win, I could lose

But that's a look I can't refuse

Stop waiting

2. Each time you fall in love 😚

Each time you have a dream

You never know what it means

You see that open road and never know which way to go

And each time you fall in love

It's clearly not enough

You sleep all day and drive out in L.A.

It isn't safe

Extra song: cry

Oracle archetype: the medallion

You guys carry an energetic mark/scar on your aura. There's smth hidden which needs to come out. You remind me of sacred geometry or symbols. You might also have a charm, pendant, key, crystal, stick, ring or smth which u always carry. This might seem ordinary to others but to u, it's smtg ancient and almost cosmic. It'll help u find a lost talent, an ancestoral gift or smth sacred.

• A very classic example would be harry from the harry potter, arwen from the lord of the ring, the heart of te fiti from moana.

Pile: 6

1. K. 🪐

Kristen, come right back

I've been waiting for you

To slip back in bed

When you light the candle

And on the Lower East Side, you're dancing with me now

And I'm taking pictures of you with flowers on the wall

Think I like you best when you're dressed in black from head to toe

Think I like you best when you're just with me

And no one else

2. Dreams from bunker hill 🪬

Baby, it's been a while since I've seen you smile

You know it's not how it's supposed to be

You're staying up every night smoking those Camel Lights

And drinking all a/ntihistamines

Do you wanna make it forever?

Do you wanna be my only one?

'Cause now I really miss the way it was

When everything was beautiful with us

Extra song: starry eyes

Oracle archetype: the mirror

People see their reflection in you, have an identity crisis. You're not what you think, you are someone who's forgotten their real self due to illusion and obsession. As a result of this, you tend to project your own insecurities and wounds onto others. You're at a threshold where you have to choose either illusion and trap or clarity and truth. You should learn to face your own shadow attributes first before poking others for the same thing😭✋🏼

• A very classic example would be zuko from the avatar, nina from black swan, shang chi from the shang chi and the legend of the ten rings.

Thankyou sm for reading, have a blessed day/night ahead🫶🏼

All the dividers, the pile pictures and the song lyrics belong to their original creators and rightful owners. I don't own any of them.

©All rights reserved to verdurous-heaven. Please refrain from reframing, reposting, copying or stealing my work without my permission. ©VH 2025

[superconductivebean]

#1674

anyway i have a hl thought. i have a vague recollection of typing a similar post but

MC, under the guise of Phineas Black, tells Matilda to give Fig more leeway—likely had been thinking the professor had too much hours assigned to him to be able to pursue links to Ancient Magic freely.

But was it really the case?

From what little we know about Eleazar, he:

can call up the favour the Ministry of Magic owes him after he had defeated a graphorn near the Stonehenge;

could get in contact with the Minister, and did, when inquired him about the goblin uprising *directly*;

seems to be Black's errand man?;

not to mention Eleazar was the one to accompany him to meet with a Ministry's liaison—or could've done so in the real scenario;

knows not just a lot about magic—he has a bunch of unorthodox theories and frequently goes on some 'foolhardy adventures', likely to prove some of them or seek for evidence to support them;

has access to Black or to his office—he had to acquire his hairs somehow, and perhaps discretely so, correct?;

teaches Theory for Magic;

yet pupils are hardly aware, if even heard of him teaching anything, and most are confused about his subject as in, they straight up have not a clue about what he actually teaches.

Long thought train past, I think Fig isn't a teacher—at least, not by the time MC is enrolled in Hogwarts. He is likely the Curriculum Director(?), or a Methodologist(?)—the person behind composing and designing Hogwarts' curriculum and studying programmes.

This is why he answers directly to Black, is slightly above the staff as he designs their study plans (or at least, he is very respected among them even if some have a thorn for him e.g. Sharp and Weasley), and is a bit of a pain in everyone's arse.

Because imagine having both a limp and an urgent need to track down that bloke who must revise your lesson plan before you can submit it to the deputy headmistress or to the headmaster for… утвер��дение, блядь, как по-английски сказать-то, the approval, so it could be put at the table of a person who draws the timetable?

Because imagine doing the headmaster's job for the deputy head's salary and expecting one of your most long-standing colleagues to maybe help you a little here and there, but they are constantly away and also likely putting the life of a newly enrolled student at risk—and for what, for some silly extracurricular projects that absolutely must include venturing into the Forbidden Forest and meddling with the Rookwood's lot?

So, when MC asks Matilda to give Fig more leeway, it causes Matilda to flinch and clock something.

Fig does not answer to her as he isn't her subordinate—first; he is her equal. Second, Matilda isn't concerned with Fig as much as she is with MC, as MC is a student and thus is her direct responsibility; Fig could do anything at this point, but how does that concern a pupil?

Fig has warned MC at the start of the year: Matilda, in theory, could knew something about the Ancient Magic debacle, but Fig and MC's use of time to pursue AM would raise concerns, forcing Matilda to feel compelled to report it all to Black.

Black becoming increasingly more aware was out of question.

Black was clear: he does not believe rumours and will not care for some fairy tale nonsense about repo and ancient magic, he would have forbidden MC exist (as it would save him oh so precious nerve) and that would've been about that.

In other words, imagine you wanting to talk about your colleague's absence that also strangely coincide with absence of the newly enrolled student, which is all so peculiar, and you *know* it is, and your boss is not pleased with it either—and then your boss is suddenly alright with it.

lmao.

HOWEVER,

MC's talking out of their arse inadvertently turns Matilda against ever confronting the real Black about anything; if it's in vain and he is all aright with everything as it is, why bother? Matilda isn't compelled to report anymore—she takes the reins instead (and is likely pissed). Fig wasn't happy.

lmao.

So,

I have always said HL needs more staff room drama.

I so require it.

[vasito-de-leche]

I haven't seen anyone request this and I've been,,,,really dying for more content of her but pretty please general dating headcanons with Tennant 😭 i keep imagining she'd be such an amazing lover and love your writing so much

;R1999 TENNANT - Relationship Headcanons

Compilation of headcanons about Tennant in a romantic relationship.

sorry for the late reply! I got a bit burned out from replying asks, but now I'm going back to writing here cause I got burned out from playing the game lmfao

Tennant is still one of my favorite characters to think about and analyze hohohoho sorry for the insane gender tangent at the beginning, I started thinking and the gears just kept on going and going

Okay, walk with me for a second. This might be a very confusing tangent, but I swear it's important for the romance later on in the post and I really really wanna talk about this! This also sparked an entire awesome discussion about gender within the game in our R99 server, so I might make a separate post about that!

Tennant's choice to act and present herself within a traditionally masculine role is very important to me; in my previous analysis of her character, I talked about how Tennant is an extremely grounded character due to the life she's led as a perpetrator, victim and witness to crimes of oppression. We also have her opinions regarding arcanist and human division within the setting of the game, along with her so called "lies"--the performance she puts on for the women she seduces and then profits from when scamming rich merchants--and all these things continue to put Tennant as an outlier, someone who doesn't conform to what is expected of her. In that very same post, I failed to bring up the importance of defying gender and embracing sexuality that her character also tackles to a degree. So I gotta do it here, man, I NEED to talk about it here.

The game puts a lot of focus on female identities, so the concept of gender queer fuckery that I love isn't explored as broadly as I'd like, but it's still there explored through many aspects of womanhood. And we do have characters like Medicine Pocket, The Fool, John Titor and Tennant (and many Awakened, like Lucy, but no one is ready for that conversation yet) who clearly do not conform to what's expected of them.

There is always this feeling of not fitting in within any of the options available, of picking the secret third option and so on--Medicine Pocket as an intersex character, is very vocal about not caring about gender. The Fool has a single voiceline which he states that he does not have any gender, which can be interpreted as his actual identity (being gender queer) or as part of his motifs about acting (playing female and male roles as an actor). John Titor has absolutely no comments nor voicelines regarding her identity, but we can gleam similarities to the queer experience through her appearance, her name being traditionally masculine, and the "otherness" presented in her backstory.

With Tennant specifically, this aspect of gender can be conflated with her entire theme of deceit, and while I respect people choosing to analyze and perceive their favorite characters in whichever way they want to, I feel like reducing Tennant's choice to present herself in such masculine ways as a superficial decision gotcha o7

or mindlessly praising her for being butch without analyzing the possible context behind it is just a huge disservice to the character. Especially considering she is one of the few charactes who has been explicitly mentioned as queer, making other women fall in love with her, unlike others that remain as subtext or heavy implications--Schneider and Vertin's kiss under the umbrella, or Matilda's crush on Sonetto.

Hell, we even get a voiceline about it from Tennant:

I don't dislike dresses. They are pretty, delicately embroidered, intricately sewed apparels. They are what I'm supposed to wear, not these trousers. Heh, destiny holds a different plan, doesn't it?

There is clearly an intent behind these choices Bluepoch has made in creating characters that defy gender norms. I don't think it's a coincidence that Tennant's era, the 1940s, is also when gender queerness in butch women started to be more apparent.

But also, gender is not as direct or straightforward; I personally like to perceive Tennant's masculinity the same way I perceive her lies--there is a Tennant that presents masculine as a personal choice, because it simply feels more natural, and a Tennant that presents as masculine because she is aware of how she can profit from the, at the time, dominant gender. We can find nuance in the way she exploits people looking to invest in the diamond industry, which she was part of and knows closely due, and there is a vulnerability or solidarity to be acknowledged in the way she doesn't hurt the women she seduces, she sells them a dream of love and carries on. Her queerness can also be found here, in the way she plays the role of gentleman for all the damsels in distress and whatnot, in times in which traditional gender norms had to permeate every aspect, whether they were welcomed or not.

My friend @evilpinkthing worded this point very well.

I like to think that Tennant is reclaiming herself, her identity, her freedom and all of these things through her masculinity, while also both profiting and being singled out as a result. It's the same three roles she's witnessed through her life; perpetrator, victim, and witness.

So with this in mind, I can now properly talk about relationship headcanons!

Contrary to popular belief, Tennant is a gentle and calm partner.

When it comes down to it, I think that Tennant would enjoy a more traditional relationship in terms of having a long-term partner--something more domestic and quiet, to be able to go on simple dates in broad daylight rather than sneak around in the dark and keep her relationships a secret from the world.

This isn't to say that she doesn't enjoy the thrill of her suave tactics and escapades, if her partner enjoys those, she would gladly indulge them once in a while! But Tennant strikes me as someone who would enjoy settling down and living that domestic bliss fantasy; on one hand because it's the type of life that was often denied to queer people, and on the other hand because she is a hopeless romantic deep down. I feel like this adds a fun dichotomy to her character, to be so unconventional and still yearn for someone to grow old with, to live in a quaint little house and provide for her partner, instead of a rollercoaster of emotions.

No matter who you are, she will insist on playing the role of gentleman. No matter how old you two are, she will always open the doors open for you, always make sure to gift you flowers every week, to insist that you two simply sit in the living room on a sunny afternoon and chat or go outside and have a picnic.

She dreams of the ideal way of proposing, to have a quaint wedding party only to surprise you by showering you with endless gifts from her previous thefts and scams, just so she can look at your reaction when she tells you about the time she got shot while trying to steal this ring in particular and so on. Tennant loves peppering these little surprises here and there, and would also melt whenever her partner goes out of their way to surprise her in return--it's just hard to tell because of her insane poker face.

Of course, these are all what ifs; if her partner wasn't the type to want this sort of life, she wouldn't raise any objections--but she wouldn't share her dreams either, knowing that they may cause a rift between you two. Instead, Tennant would simply stay with you for as long as you'll allow her and enjoy the ride, always focusing on her present with you. She's not a stranger to heartbreak, so she knows how to accept a break up with elegance and move on.

On the subject of Tennant's orientation.

Usually I never discuss a character's orientation when writing relationship headcanons about them since they're all left pretty ambiguously but, again, since Tennant's preference for women is made pretty explicit, I feel it's important to discuss it!

Given the themes of non-conformity within her character and how thoughtful she is, I like to think Tennant does have a preference for women but is ultimately open to any sort of partners, regardless of gender identity. She has led a very eventful life and thus would feel that sticking to one thing or another is too limited for her; why pick one diamond when she can just take them all? Why limit herself to wearing dresses and baking pies, when she can be and do much more than what's expected?

Most of the characters I've analyzed so far strike me as the type to not really bother with the struggle of identity--they've always known where they stand or simply do not care about the way they're perceived--but with Tennant, I do like the idea of her struggling with coming to terms with her own orientation and identity as a masculine woman. But rather than an outer struggle, it's more so an inner struggle. She doesn't care what the world might think of her, but she does have to get rid of those ideas and mindsets she might've internalized while growing up.

This also means that Tennant is one of the best people to talk to in regards to your own issues with identity and whatnot! Characters like Pavia or Diggers might simply brush it off with ease, since they themselves had no issue accepting their non-conventional lifestyles. Some others are still in the process of figuring it out themselves, and some are so repressed they will most likely scare you back into the closet on accident. But Tennant? She's attentive and understanding, never taking her partner's struggles lightly.

Round of cute things I didn't know where to fit in.

Tennant likes roleplaying, but not exclusively in bed or more private settings--I think she just enjoys lighthearted and playful roleplay as an excuse to brush up on her seduction techniques, pretending to be the perfect stranger at a bar to flirt with you, insisting that your husband doesn't have to know, while you play along and tell her that you're spoken for and waiting for someone else until one of you breaks character. It's straight up enrichment for her, and she really enjoys surprising you with these Wattpad sounding ass settings just to see how you'll keep up with her.

Regardless of your stance on marriage, Tennant makes a point of gifting you a ring with a diamond she created--one that will not turn into coal nor ashes for as long as you two are together, as a token of her devotion. It's also extremely hard for others to notice whenever Tennant is in a committed relationship, but if you pay attention, you'll notice all the new different accessories and pins she keeps wearing on her hat or jacket that remind her of you, just subtle enough to pass off as yet another aesthetic choice of hers, but so obvious for the love of her life.

Insists that you wear her cologne; Tennant playfully jokes with you about this, saying that this way all of the world will know who holds your heart in her hands--but she's not joking. I do think Tennant has a possessive streak, one she keeps on a tight leash to avoid scaring her partner and whatnot, but you can just tell how much she covets and cherishes you in the way she looks at you. Sometimes she says things like "Oh, you're such a precious gem, I could just lock you up forever" while laughing and twirling your hair through her fingers, but she means it. Sort of kind of!

Tennant is the type of character who looks like she'd love to wear matching and custom tailored expensive outfits with her partner, but personally? I think she's more partial to whatever you want to have as your personal style, the more it contrasts her own the better. Tennant greatly respects anyone who has the courage to live as loud, proud and happy as they can be.

[pixiesfz]

Hi how are you and love your fics and would you write for Charli grant also Katrina gorry

heya!, I'm doing well thankyou I actually have a cute idea of Charli and the reader going to the Australian woman of the year awards together!!

plot: Y/N and Charli are injured and can't go to the Matildas camp in Canada, therefor they are asked to represent the Matildas at the Australian Woman of the Year awards (imagine reader in the red mini dress Margot Robbie wore for a barbie premiere)

Warnings: fluff, mentions of anxiety (ik dates don't add up...live the fantasy)

When you sprained your ankle at the Leicester vs Arsenal game you were upset that you couldn't take part in the last international camp of the year, you considered all of the girls like family.

Then Charli also injured herself, ruling you both out of the camp. It was then you decided that you could both go home to your families in Australia and spend your week there.

You forgot about your injury and instead got excited, you hadn't physically seen your girlfriend in about three weeks and you had missed her so much.

Kyra gave you so much shit for it.

When the plane to Sydney landed you knew she would be at the Airport waiting so you flashed a smile quickly to the person who thankfully didn't snore who sat behind you and made your way out of the plane.

You saw her from a mile away with her bright perfect smile and blonde wavy locks. She was the definition of sunlight in your eyes and every time you saw her you felt like you were falling in love all over again.

When you quickened up your steps to get to her you let go of your suitcase and engulfed her in a bone-crushing hug.

"hello to you to babe" she laughed and you squeezed her tighter "I missed you Chaz"

"I missed you too" she said and relaxed into your touch. You both stayed like that before she let you go and reached into her bag, bringing out two tickets.

"I may have agreed to something" she sheepishly smiled and you laughed "what did you do?" you ask and she held out the tickets to you.

"Woman of the year awards" you read out before she pointed at them again "you missed something"

You looked back down at the ticket and furrowed your brows until you saw it.

"Tonight?!"

"Surprise!" Charli smiled cautiously as she watched your face "I know they're last minute but it would be you and me representing the Matilda's whilst they're at camp and plus we get to dress up" she added on, grabbing your hands.

You gave in and smiled "Okay," you told her "I don't have a dress though, I didn't think 'big event' would've been something I should've packed for" you said and Charli laughed "They've got us dresses babe" she told you before giving you a soft kiss on the lips.

"Can we go home?" you asked with an overexaggerated pout "if I'm going to this thing I'm gonna need a rest to get rid of these eyebags" you pointed at your eyes and Charli grabbed the tickets out of your hand.

"Oh please you will be the most sexy woman there" she encouraged and grabbed your hand "let's go".

You were both at your family home, laying on your childhood bed, napping with your legs entangled together.

You watched Charli sleep with a smile, she was gorgeous, you didn't know that she was doing the same thing ten minutes ago when you were fast asleep.

You got up to the end of the bed and checked your phone for the time, three o'clock. You knew you had to wake Charli up to get ready.

But before you did you looked at the door that had the dress that Vanity Fair had chosen for you both, Charli had an elegant yellow gown and you had a red silk mini dress that you knew you would probably be thinking about the shortness of the whole night.

"We can switch" a voice popped up behind you and you faced Charli "No, you would look perfect with the yellow" You smiled and Charli moved up from the bed to you and snuggled into your side "You will look fabulous" she told you and kissed your shoulder "you always do"

"I'm just a little bit scared is all" you admitted and Charli nodded "like what if I fall-" "you want fall" "but I could" you told her before looking down "I have bruises on my shins from soccer it will be unattractive and the media would be-"

"hey" Charli turned your head delicately with her fingers to face her "We are there to accept an award because of our sport, it would be a little stupid if they think we walk out of the pitch with nicely tanned shaved legs with no damage to our bodies, plus we are only going because we have done damage to our bodies" she joked, hoping it would bring a smile upon your lips, which it did.

"I don't want you thinking about anyone in the media y/n" Charli told you as she stroked her fingers in your hair "think about you, or me, or even you and me, think of anything" she encouraged and pressed a small kiss to your lips.

"You always know how to make me feel better" you smile at her "anything for my girl" she smiled, and for the 1000th time that day you felt your heart melt.

"I love you"

"I love you too, now lets get ready"

It wasn't long until the hair and makeup people came and 'did you up' as Charli called it, her hair was curled and her eyes had a shimmer on them that somehow made her shine even more than her natural self.

You didn't think that was possible.

Your makeup was similar, only with a sharper eyeliner and you hair was in a low bun with strands curled at the front.

You walked out to your girlfriend talking to one of the media girls that you recognized from the world cup who was filming Charli answering a few questions in her dress which she stopped when you walked out.

"y/n freaking y/l/n" she stated before walking up to you and giving you a hug "you look gorgeous she told you before stepping back and looking at you upside down "and bloody sexy!" she added, making you blush.

You weren't gonna lie you did feel glamorous and you did catch yourself looking in the mirror a bit longer than intended.

"You're not too bad yourself" you told the blonde who couldn't stop smiling.

You both answered some questions, even including questions about your relationship that the viewers on tik tok would love.

"Cabs here you ready to go babe?" you called out as you got the text of the arrival of your uber driver, you turned around to your girlfriend taking pictures of you "Charli!" you called out and she laughed.

"You just look so good!"

[resident-wof-expert]

on a scale of 1-10 how well do you think each WoF main character could sing

Clay: He was able to play the dragonets' theme on a random string, despite the fact that we can safely assume he was not trained in any kind of musical instrument at any point before then. 8/10

Tsunami: She is one of the few who we have canonically seen sing, and it was described as loud and off-key. 2/10

Glory: She can probably sing, I don't know if she would, though. 7/10

Starflight: The only information we get on his singing voice is Clay describing it as "pure tenor", meaning he doesn't have a very big vocal range. We don't know if he sounded nice, so I'm just going to assume he's average. 4/10

Sunny: I like to imagine she has a singing voice like Eden Sher. 9/10

Moon: Is it weird that I imagine her as British when I imagine her singing? Or is that just because I associate her so heavily with Matilda and I'm a huge fan of Matilda the Musical? 7/10

Winter: It is a known fact that constantly yelling can be bad for your singing voice. Other than that, I imagine he can sing. 6/10

Peril: As a trans girl, her singing voice is an automatic 10/10.

Turtle: As a trans guy, his singing voice is an automatic 10/10.

Qibli: He's that boy you knew back in high school who won't stop fucking singing just 'cause he knows he can sing. 8.5/10

Blue: He's like one of those kids you see online who can sing unreasonably well for absolutely no reason. 10/10

Cricket: She knows things. 6.5/10

Sundew: Same as Winter. 5/10

Snowfall: Same as Winter but double. 3/10

Luna: She probably sings with reckless abandon, but her enjoyment makes up for a lot of it. 7/10

[starlene]

Rilla of Ingleside Book Club: Chapter 31

We keep saying that Rilla should be allowed to keep Jims... but I think it's even more important the other way around: Jims should be allowed to keep Rilla.

I mean, can you imagine being raised and loved by someone – and then, with no rhyme or reason whatsoever, being taken away from them when you're just four years old, and suddenly having to live with complete strangers?

Of course, sometimes, that can't be avoided. Caretakers can fall seriously ill or die, and in cases of child abuse, a separation has to happen. But here, it's a case of a deadbeat dad who abandoned his unborn child coming back after four years of not caring (Rilla keeps claiming he's "kind and good-hearted", but I'm not convinced of that at all – a truly good-hearted person would've written way more often) and taking said child away from the only family he's ever known... Jim Anderson may have the legal right to do that, but I'm 100% sure that for Jims, it would be less traumatic to stay with Rilla.

(A tangentially related fact: during WWII, many Finnish families sent their children to Sweden so they'd be safe during the war. They did so with the children's best interests in mind, but it was a traumatic experience for both the children and the parents nevertheless. To make matters worse, many of these children were very small, and during their time in Sweden, they forgot their biological parents and even their native Finnish language – which of course made returning to Finland after the war very difficult for them. Studies have shown that during their adult lives, these so-called Finnish war children have had an elevated risk of suffering from, being hospitalised due to, and dying from mental illnesses.)

~

Anyways, what on earth does Rilla mean when she says Jims, a soon-to-be four-year-old child, "has ambition"? Is he working on his ABCs already, or..?

Or maybe it's his rizz. Clearly, he has been working very, very hard collecting charisma points, The Sims style – he charms Mrs. Matilda Pitman so thoroughly, it's clear he's already got full points in that particular skill!

~

"Nobody ever knew just why trains stopped at Millward siding. Nobody was ever known to get off there or get on. There was only one house nearer to it than four miles, and it was surrounded by acres of blueberry barrens and scrub spruce-trees."

We love a comprehensive rural public transport system! Lucky Millwardians, all three of them.

~

Translation notes:

Hannah Brewster is Mary Brewster in the Finnish translation. The Chapleys are the Chapels. ????

[vettelsvee]

Hey, how's it going?I have been thinking, for me, Seb gives off a GREAT vibe of a big family guy, who has a big family with the person he loves, my opinion of course. Could you write something like this?

E a propósito, adoro tudo o que você escreve!!

ROADTRIP TO MONACO | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | ao3 | requests or let's talk!

retired sebastian vettel x wife!reader

word count: 2894

summary: seb and a pregnant y/n go and have a trip to monaco with their three little ones after seb's retirement

warnings: none, just mentions of pregnancy sickness as y/n is on her first term of her pregnancy! fluff, lots of fluff, and dad!seb

a/n: i love that seb. i actually love seb and oscar so much that the only thing i want to do is write about them. i'll be waiting your feedback, comments and requests please! and also, don't forget reblogs are truly appreciated (also, so close to 1k! tysm to you all because i most of the times feel surreal with all of this and how much you seem to enjoy my fics). also, anon: hope you like this!

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

The soft melody of an alarm broke through the darkness of the bedroom Sebastian and you shared around one-thirty in the morning, interrupting the couple's deep sleep. Sebastian, still startled by the noise, managed to quickly stretch his arm to turn off the alarm in an attempt to fully wake up. Meanwhile, you rubbed your eyes, fighting against the tiredness.

"Is it already time to get up, sunshine?" you asked sleepily.

"Yes, darling, it's time," Seb nodded as he sat up in bed. "If we want to get to Monaco on time and avoid Charles from killing us. We should leave in about an hour and a half."

You yawned, curling up under the blankets.

"But it's too early, love… Don't you think we could, and should, sleep a little longer?"

Sebastian approached you and gently stroked your hair. He was aware that the fourth pregnancy was being a bit challenging for you compared to the previous three, despite being only in the second month.

If fatigue, nausea and dizziness were making life difficult for you at the moment, he didn't want to imagine how you would feel four months from now.

"Y/N, sweetheart, don't worry. Let me be in charge of waking up the kids and getting everything ready. You stay here and rest a little longer, okay? I promise I'll let you know when everything is ready so you only have to get in the car."

You looked at him with a tired but grateful expression. Still, you knew you had to help prepare the final details of the trip, and most importantly, make sure the kids were perfectly ready..

"Are you sure? I don't want you to take on all the work, really," you expressed with concern in your voice. "Even though I'm tired, I can help you..."

"I'm absolutely sure, darling," the man interrupted, smiling and giving you a warm kiss on the forehead. "These are the kinds of things I retired for, so focus on going back to sleep, alright? I'll see you in a bit, liebe."

"Sebastian…" you spoke again. "I'm really serious: we're in this together, and I don't want you to handle everything alone. It's a family trip, not a trip of Seb with his three kids. I want to help."

He admired your determination, but he wanted you to be treated as you deserved.

"I know, Y/N," he explained, "but I also know how tired you are. Really, allow yourself not to worry about your kids for once. I promise I'll wake you up soon enough so you can get ready."

You nodded, trying to avoid continuing the conversation and settling back into bed, closing your eyes and trying to sleep without thinking about how long your husband might take to prepare your kids.

Meanwhile, Sebastian left the room with determination and headed towards the children's rooms. Emily, Charlotte and Matilda slept all in different rooms, so he went from door to door, opening them gently and affectionately, and then approaching each bed.

He first woke up Charlotte, the middle one, who rubbed her eyes and looked at her father, confused.

"Dad, what's going on?" she asked, puzzled. "Did you have a nightmare and want to sleep with me? Or is mom having the baby?"

"No, no," Sebastian chuckled at his seven-year-old daughter's antics. "It's time to wake up. Remember we're going to Monaco today."

The little girl's eyes lit up immediately.

"Yes, that's right! We're going to your old workplace!"

After letting her fully wake up, the head of the family went to the room of the youngest, Matilda, who was four years old.

"Matilda, wake up, honey," whispered Vettel, giving her a gentle tap on her shoulder. "We have an exciting day ahead. We're going to see those fast cars daddy used to drive."

The youngest Vettel lazily stretched in his small bed and yawned. Sebastian then smiled, picking her up while she just wanted to hug Seb. 

"That's what I like to see, little one," he commented, tousling her hair. "Let me dress you so mom doesn't have to worry too much, okay?"

Both the children and Sebastian hurried to get ready. There was no doubt that, despite the sleepiness, the family was full of energy and excitement for what awaited them in the country about seven hours from their residence.

After also waking up Emily, your eldest, and making sure all of them were ready, Seb put cartoons on the living room TV to keep the children entertained and returned to his room, where you were still resting, seemingly peacefully asleep.

"Honey, the kids are ready. They're waiting for us in the living room. Are you feeling better?" he whispered as softly as he could, gently stroking your arm.

You opened her eyes and sat up in bed, stretching aggressively. “Thank you so much for getting our little devils ready, I owe you one."

He tenderly kissed you on the lips.

"You don't owe me anything, you did enough effort to bring them into the world and act as both father and mother when I wasn't around. Let me help you get ready, we have a great day ahead."

Quickly, Seb helped you change you clothes, gently touching your small but already slightly prominent pregnant belly. Once you were finally dressed in sportswear for comfort, you both walked hand in hand out of the room and headed to the living room, where your children were already waiting impatiently.

After making sure everything was ready and the kids had no further needs, you all headed to the garage, quickly getting into the family car. While Sebastian made sure the suitcases fit perfectly in the trunk, you took care of buckling the children up and offering them a few games or movies to keep them entertained on the way, although you were quite aware they would end up asleep.

"Are you all ready?" you inquired, turning around from the passenger seat and looking at her children with a smile as Seb began to start the car.

"Yes, mommy, let's go!" exclaimed little Matilda, who received cheers from her sisters.

With the car's engine purring softly, they set off on the Swiss roads amidst the darkness of the night, which, despite being synonymous with tiredness, brought a surge of energy to the youngest members of the family, where conversations and plans for Monaco came to the forefront.

"Do you think grandpa Norbert is going to come, Dad? I heard you talking to him the other day," exclaimed Charlotte, once again showing her admiration for Sebastian's sister. "Is grandma Heike coming too?"

"I want to hear the loud noises of the cars and see how fast they go," Emily added immediately, excited.

Sebastian smiled as he drove, very happy to hear the excitement of his children and, especially, to be sharing such an experience with you all not only after his retirement.

As the hours went by, tiredness arrived, and the children fell asleep. Quite the opposite happened with you: you woke up when you no longer heard the sudden conversations between the siblings. As you progressed along the winding roads and approached Monegasque territory, the sky began to lighten, giving them a beautiful sunrise.

"Look, honey, the sun is rising," you commented to Seb, pointing to the horizon stained with warm colors. "I can't believe we're finally arriving in Monaco after weeks of waiting..."

After a couple more hours of driving, and lively conversation among the family resulting from a brief stop for breakfast and in your case, vomiting a couple of times, you arrived in Monaco. The city looked completely different from any other time of the year as the streets were adorned with flags and banners for the Grand Prix. Furthermore, the grandstands, the paddock, and the countless yachts docked in the harbor made Monte Carlo seem even richer than it already was.

"We're here, guys," Sebastian announced to his children sweetly. "If you need something, just make sure to tell me, alright?”

Seb parked the Mercedes in a parking lot reserved for VIP guests, and then got out of the car to help you. He made then a phone call, possibly to Leclerc, your kids began to stroke your belly. You reacted early and quickly moved them away, aware that journalists and paparazzi could discover the secret.

"Let's follow dad, guys," you whispered to them, getting down to their level. "And remember: no one, not Uncle Charles or anyone who asks you, can know that dad and I have made a little baby, okay?"

The children nodded in response to your question, which somewhat reassured you were still nervous. However, the excitement began to set in as you walked alongside your kids, following Seb towards the place where the free practice sessions would take place, partially pushing aside your worries. The sound of the engines grew louder with each step you took, with the youngest of the family covering her ears with his little hands.

"Look, mommy: there's the Ferrari team!" exclaimed Emily pointing towards the red team's garage.

Charles appeared in his racing suit, as Free Practice was set to begin in just thirty minutes.

As soon as he spotted your husband, who was slightly ahead of all of you, he raised his arms in the air with great joy at seeing him again on the circuits, a wide smile adorning his face.

"Charles!" exclaimed Seb when he finally reached the Monegasque, giving him a strong hug. "Thank you so much for inviting us. You have no idea how much I appreciate it. The kids are very excited to be here, and especially to see you."

Leclerc returned the hug to the German, reminiscing about the two years they were teammates.

"You don't have to thank me, Seb," replied the Ferrari driver. "I'm sure Emily and Charlie remember something, but I know it's all new for Matilda. Anyway, I'm sure they'll enjoy it like the first time, just like Y/N!"

As the conversation continued between the two men, you and the kids surrounded the Ferrari driver, who felt a bit shy seeing the children's excited faces.

"Thank you, Charles," you expressed with your little ones embracing you somewhat shyly. "We're very grateful that you made it possible for us to come," you leaned closer to the Monegasque and whispered: "and don't tell anyone, but despite Ferrari's shitty strategies, you're doing great."

After a few minutes of conversation catching up on your respective live, and where Seb almost revealed you were expecting your fourth child, Charlotte, Emily and Matilda crowded around Charles, excited to see their father's former teammate again. Despite the constant denials from the team engineers, he managed to let your kids have a close look at his car.

"Look," said Charles, excitedly, pointing to the vehicle, "this is the car I'll be practicing with today, and that's my teammate's, Carlos," he pointed to the car beside it. "What do you think?"

The children's eyes widened with passion as they began to examine the car closely.

"Can we touch it, Uncle Charles?" asked the four-year-old, grabbing Leclerc's race suit pants.

Charles smiled, nodding enthusiastically, inwardly melting at the scene he was witnessing. He wished he could see himself like that with Olivia in a few years.

"Of course, but do it quickly so you father doesn’t get fined again," he said jokingly.

While the kids explored the car, and after you joined them shortly after, Charles and Seb began to converse animatedly yet seriously about the expectations for the Grand Prix and the sensations he had so far in the 2024 Formula 1 season.

The sudden hustle in the Ferrari garage made it clear that Free Practice 1 was about to begin. Sebastian and Charles had their conversation interrupted when Leclerc's beloved engineer insisted he get into the car as soon as possible. It was finally time for you to head to the corresponding grandstand to enjoy the practice session.

The Monegasque was forced, much to his regret, to interrupt his conversation with the your husband. Seb, however, understood, and immediately turned to you all, who were eagerly waiting to go to the best spot to watch the cars go around.

"Come with me, kids," notedhim, "it's time to go up to the VIP grandstand to get a better view of the session."

Taking Matilda in his arms, holding his daughters' hands with his free hand, and with you on his left, you all formed a little chain to avoid getting lost in the commotion on you way to the designated spot.

You were moved by the scene you were witnessing. Holding onto Seb's free arm, you tried to control your tears as your followed your husband's lead.

Minutes later, you had found your reserved seats, but numerous fans who had recognized Seb had delayed him. You were used to this, as were your kids. Moreover, none of your minded as they were aware that Seb had done great things for and in the world of motorsport.

“Look dad!”, exclaimed Emily excitedly as her father sat down next to her, “That's Charles! He's going really fast!”

"Yes, he's going fast indeed, Emily," Seb answered, still in shock at what he was witnessing after many time.

As the practice hour progressed, you captured some moments of the family with your camera, all of them fully caught up in the energy emanating from the circuit at that moment. The applause and words of encouragement, though impossible to hear for the drivers, were felt as the local hero made his appearance on the track.

When it came to an end, faster than they thought, you all made your way back to the Ferrari garage, where Charles had promised to meet his former teammate after the session.

Once there, you saw the blue-eyed with his girlfriend, Alexandra, engaged in lively conversation, likely about what had happened on the track during the previous hour. Charles, upon seeing Sebastian with you at the garage door, hurried over as fast as he could.

"Seb, I thought you'd be gone!" he exclaimed excitedly. "I didn't get to see you: you know, speed problems," he laughed at his own bad joke, "but I'm sure you had a good time, and your amazing wife and kids did too, right?"

Matilda and Charlotte shouted in unison. You and Emily nodded quickly.

"I'm really impressed, Charles," Vettel said enthusiastically. "Apart from the track being in wonderful condition, the weather cooperating, and not having too many idiots running around today, your performance has been incredible."

Alex joined the conversation, greeting your and the kids first, and then Seb.

"It's been wonderful seeing you in the stands. I wish I didn't have to stay locked up in the garage all day, but there are these crazy Charles fangirls out there..." she joked.

You laughed at the comment. If she only knew all that you had to go through in the early years of your relationship with Seb…

"Anyways…" Leclerc began, placing his arm around his girlfriend's waist. "Alex and I have been talking these past few days and we'd like to ask you if you'd like to join us for dinner tonight. It would be nice for us to spend some time together, just relaxing, and celebrate that you've finally come back around here," he explained, looking directly at your husband.

"But really, if it's any inconvenience for you," she hurried to add, "or if you need to head back home or..."

Sebastian looked at you, who nodded excitedly at the proposal.

"It would be an honor, Charles."

After exchanging details for the dinner, they bid farewell momentarily due to Leclerc's press commitments. During that time, you returned to the hotel where you would stay for a couple of days to freshen up and prepare for dinner, as managing three children wasn't an easy or simple task.

When you met again, this time at the restaurant, you were warmly welcomed by its members. Dinner unfolded amid laughter and lively conversations, mostly revolving around Formula 1 anecdotes and your private lives.

As the night progressed, Seb and Charles delved into deeper topics about the world that absorbed so much of their lives. Alex and you, on the other hand, got to know each other more and realized they had more in common than you initially thought.

The children, meanwhile, were having the time of their lives: Charlie, Emily, and Matilda, who fell asleep early, spent the night playing games with the young couple, who still seemed like kids in your eyes.

"I hope you've enjoyed the day, guys," Charles said, raising his glass of wine. "I hope we can enjoy many more moments together, especially when the little one comes because, Y/N, I know there’s a reason why you’re not drinking alcohol when you like wine so much."

"Cheers!" you all exclaimed while you tried not to get nervous and more shy than you actually were, laughing at the revealed secret. 

As you continued to enjoy the delicious food, along with the laughter and entertaining stories, you knew that trip to Monaco would become a cherished memory in the years to come. There was no doubt you should definitely do this more often and, above all, around the world if given the chance, something you had been waiting for years.

[babymetaldoll]

Are you mine? - Chapter 1: I'm a puppet on a string

A/N: Ok guys, here we go! Thank you all for your love and support, and most of all, for waiting for this last book.  Summary: We are starting on season 15 for a little sneak peak of our lovebirds getting ready for their last day at the BAU. Spencer and his cherie have been married for some time now, and things are going great, until they don't, as they usually do. Let's join for a big flashback and understand all that happened from season 9 to season 15 that lead them to their last day at the BAU. Word count: 7.680 words.  Warnings: Alcohol consumption, fluff, angst, confusion and babies.  

Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist

Next chapter

Spencer's point of view

Thomas Merton once wrote, "Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone. We find it with another."

Life has never been this good, not like this. I know I haven't slept well in over seven years, due to the constant demands of parenthood, but I don't mind. In fact, I think I love it. I was not a good sleeper before becoming a dad if we are sincere. But waking up ten times every night to change diapers, check for monsters under the bed, or scoot over and allow my kids to sleep next to me, kicking my ribs for the entire night has never been a problem. Because they are my babies, and I would do anything for my kids.

I no longer have every night during the week to bury my head in hundreds of books. I haven't read more than a few every week since Raven was born, seven years ago. Now, my evenings are filled with baby rambles and kids' voices as we play games and read bedtime stories.

My kids. I never thought I could ever say those words. And now look at me, father of three healthy, bright, and beautiful kids. Not even in my wildest dreams I ever imagined being alive could be so fulfilling. Now I have an honest reason to be a better person every day. My babies. My wife. My family. They are my whole life.

I have everything I ever dreamt of: me and (Y/N) have been married for almost nine years. Nine years of waking up next to her, good morning kisses, and cuddles. I still find it hard to believe that she is my wife. The love of my life. The woman I would die for. Just ask me and I will give up everything for her safety and happiness. Yes, as cheesy as it sounds. And with our career choice, a decision that we've had to make more times than we imagined.

Our eldest daughter, Raven Marie, turned seven this year. She is bright and cheerful. She is just like her mother: a natural leader and the light of my day. Vincent is four years old, and he was born an artist. He loves painting and drawing, especially on the walls when no one is watching. We enjoy our trips to the museum together, even more if we get ice cream afterward. And baby Matilda is just three months old. I love holding her in my arms as she sleeps safe and sound. It makes the whole world stop. And the way her big brown eyes stare at me, I swear she can understand every word I say. The three of them make me feel loved in a way I never even imagined.

We live in a beautiful house just outside town, which is perfect for raising our family. It has a large backyard where our kids can play. It even has a tree, so I plan to build a treehouse next summer, probably with Mikey's and Frank's help.

This is everything I always dreamed of and never thought I could have. That is why (Y/N) and I decided we would never let anything jeopardize what we have accomplished. There is nothing more important to us than our babies.

That is why it's time to leave the BAU for good.

Today is our last day as Supervisory Special Agents with the FBI. And though I always thought if this day ever came, I would be devastated, I'm looking forward to this new stage in our lives. As long as we have each other, everything is going to be ok.

I roll in bed and stare at my darling wife asleep beside me. I take in all her features, nose, and closed eyes fluttering occasionally. There are a few gray hairs already showing, stressing her out. I find them sexy if you ask me. We are already 39 years old, I have a few gray hairs myself. My wife's skin looks so soft, so tempting. I wanna mark her mine again, leaving sweet bruises from her neck to her breasts, which are almost exposed underneath her pajamas. The hickies I did last week are barely visible anymore.

But before I get into action to wake (Y/N) with hot kisses all over her body, sweet blabbing sounds coming from the small crib next to our bed catch my attention. Our baby girl is already awake. It's still too early for Matilda to open her eyes, so I roll in bed and hold my baby daughter, rocking her in my arms as we walk around the room.

- "Good morning, Jelly Bean."- I whisper and kiss her forehead- "Thank you for almost letting us sleep through the night last night. Your mom and I have a decisive day today."- Tilly stares at me with her big chocolate eyes and smiles as her tiny finger holds mine tight.

- "Yes baby. Today is your parent's last day working at the BAU, after over fifteen years of service for your mom and seventeen for me."

The words should shock me, or maybe even cause angst or pain. But nothing could be farther from the truth. I'm excited to become a full-time professor at Georgetown, come home every night, and spend time with my kids. No more travels unless they are on vacation, no more chasing psychopaths. I'm ready to leave that life behind me and take care of my loved ones daily.

I walk around the house, enjoying how it's still silent. Holding Tilly close against my chest, I open Vincent's door and watch him sleeping on his little bed. I walk over and cover him with his blanket, knowing in about forty minutes he will be running downstairs, demanding breakfast. Today is hotcakes Friday, I could start the batter and get the coffee ready after I put an eye on the kids.

I head to Raven's room and find her awake. She is sitting on her bed, holding her teddy bear hidden behind Moby Dick.

- "Birdie, what are you doing awake? it's six in the morning"- I whisper as I walk over to her and she widens her eyes, clearly busted.

- "Sorry dadda. I just woke up. I swear."

- "What happens when we don't get enough REM sleep?"- I ask her as I sit by her side, and take her book from her tiny hands.

- "It interferes with memory formation, altering my learning process."

- "Very good. So if you know why you must have nine hours of sleep, why are you awake so early?"- my older daughter giggles and hides underneath her blanket for a moment. I wait for her to show me her face one more time as she whispers.

- "I wanted to know what happened to the giant whale."

- "But this is our bedtime story, Raven. We have to read it together every night."- I try to look serious, but frankly, I feel so proud. I love being able to share my passion for reading with my daughter. Raven fixes her pillow underneath her head and covers herself with her purple blanket.

- "But I'm no longer sleepy, dadda."

- "Just close your eyes for a bit, Birdie. Try to rest and I'll make breakfast. I'll call you when the food is ready, ok?"

- "Can we read two chapters tonight, dadda? Please?"- she looks at me with pleading eyes as I place the book back on her bedside table.

- "Only if you get some more sleep now, ok?"

- "Fine... good night dadda... or is it good morning already?"- I chuckle and kiss her forehead.

- "If you are going to sleep, we still say good night, birdy."

Sometimes I'm sure I'll wake up alone at my old apartment, all this would have been a dream. I never imagined I would love something or someone more than I loved my work. The FBI was my life for so long. But this, my babies, my wife sleeping safe and sound in our house, that means more than anything I could ever achieve at the bureau.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I wake up in bed and immediately feel the cold, empty space beside me, and I don't like it. I'm used to waking up with the warmth of Spencer's arms around me or any of my kids hovering over the covers or sleeping on me. But not today. Today, I am alone on this gigantic bed, and neither my children nor my husband are in sight.

The sweet sound of my kids' laughter somewhere in the house and the smell of hotcakes catches my attention in a second. I could get used to waking up like this. No text warning me that we have to catch a serial killer. No one is trying to hurt my family. No psycho plotting to ruin our lives. Just us in our house, living our sweet dreams.

The last couple of years have been rough, to call it somewhat. Everything we ever tried to avoid from working at the BAU hit us. For a moment it felt like everything that could go wrong, did. And when I say "everything", I mean it. But I don't wanna think of those dark times, I don't wanna start this last day with sorrow. I wanna start it with coffee, hotcakes, and sweet kisses from my babies.

- "Something smells extra good in here!"- I walk into the kitchen and find Spencer flipping hotcakes in a pan, as Raven and Vincent are sitting at the table, eating already and chatting nonstop. My husband smiles as I walk to him and kiss his lips sweetly.

- "How are you today Tilly?"- I whisper as I stare at her, she is asleep against Spencer's chest, in a baby wrap we got when Raven was born, and that my husband loves beyond life itself. Try to take it from him, it's impossible. He loves carrying our kids around in that thing. And when they are too old to fit in, he just carries them on his shoulders or arms all over.

- "One day they will be too big or too embarrassed to be seen like that with me"- he explained to someone, probably some of my aunts or cousins, who argued he was spoiling them rotten. - "And I wanna enjoy every chance I get before we reach that point in life."

Now, if you ask me, I don't think our kids will ever get tired of their dad. They love him too much.

- "Mama! dadda made chocolate chip hotcakes!"- Vinny is clearly running on sugar right now- "They are tasty!"

- "I'm sure they are! They smell delicious!"- I grab a cup and fill it with freshly made coffee- "Can I get you more coffee, hon?"

- "Yes, please ma cheriè."- I pour two cups and add sugar to my husband's as he prepares a dish with hotcakes and scrambled eggs for me and one for him as well.

- "Someone went an extra mile with this breakfast today. Thank you hon"- I kiss him again and take both dishes.

- "It's a special day. You deserve the best breakfast."

- "Well, I'm gonna cook you the best dinner then" - I wink at him and look at our kids- "Are you ready for school, Birdie?"

- "Yeah. I'm excited because in math we are starting to do multiplications! Finally!"- our daughter is honestly happy about math, which I know she didn't get from me.

- "Multiplications? Why were you looking forward to that?"- Spencer asks her, as I help Vinny cut his hotcakes.

- "Because Uncle Frank said we are good at multiplication in this family, so I wanna learn all about it."

I keep my poker face and nod at my oldest daughter, trying to pinpoint any kind of scenario where Frank might have said that to her. Spencer stares at me with wide-open eyes as he clears his throat and sips his coffee.

- "Yeah, math is really fun!"- that's all I can say- "Which is your favorite subject, Vinny?"

- "Art"- I am not shocked.

- "Are you planning on making a new drawing for my desk?"- Spencer asks our son, who takes a few seconds to reply and gives him an honest answer.

- "No, Aunty Lu asked me to do one for her fridge, because her baby can't draw anything yet."- I smile and nod.

- "We should work on that drawing this weekend then."- I say to my boy and kiss the top of his head. I love that my kids know Lu, Frank, and Mikey are also family.

Lu got married a few years ago and last month she had her first baby. I haven't seen her in a few weeks because things have been crazy for both of us, but we text daily. A lot has changed, but our friendship remains the same. Mikey got married as well, to a girl he met at work. They have been together for five years and have a baby girl. I have never seen him this happy before, and it fills my heart with joy to know he is living the life he always dreamed of.

Meanwhile, Frank is still single. Not shocking news, I know. He has a steady girlfriend though, and they are very happy. He and Tarah have been together since Spencer and I got married, and they have the cutest dogs and cats I've ever seen.

- "Ok kids, let's get ready for school."- I put the dishes in the sink and watch our kids run upstairs. Spencer smiles as he finishes his last sip of coffee and I walk to him to take Tilly in my arms.

- "I'm gonna get this little lady ready to spend the day with Nana Sofia so you can take a quick shower, ok?"

- "Thank you, ma cherie."

- "No, thank you for breakfast, Daddy."- I whisper and kiss his coffee-tasting lips as he stares at me, raising an eyebrow subtly. I am teasing him, and I know it. But I can't help it. I love it when he stares at me with those hungry eyes.

- "We have some extra time, in case you wanna join me in the shower."- Spencer whispers and stands in front of me, wrapping his arms around mine, and moving his hands up and down my back, underneath my pajamas.

- "Mom!!"- Raven yells from upstairs- "Vinny got back into his bed and said he won't go to school today!"

- "Hold that thought until tonight."- I sigh and peck his lips- "Take that shower while I get the kids ready."

- "Fine, but you owe me, Mrs. Reid."- I chuckle at his words and shake my head, walking out of the kitchen with our baby secure in my arms.

- "Dr. Reid, I'm keeping count, and as far as I remember, you owe me, big time."

Spencer's point of view

As I drive to our last day at work after dropping the kids at school and Tilly with (Y/N)'s mom, I start to do the math of how many times I've driven us to work in the last few years. Plus all the times I took the subway to get there, before we got married. I know during all those times I never imagined how the last time would feel like. I never even imagined this day would ever come until Raven was born. Ever since I knew she was coming, I seriously considered dropping the life I knew to do anything else. Something that didn't include putting my and my wife's life in danger daily.

After we got married, (Y/N) and I spent a few years trying to catch up with all the time we wasted not confessing our feelings. There wasn't much left to know about each other that we didn't deal with being friends, but being a couple was a completely different thing. Our job came with certain unconventional situations, to call it somewhat. Like the day I realized how badly I wanted to be a dad, after delivering a baby in front of an unsub.

It happened almost eight years ago, not long before we discovered we were going to become parents for the first time. I remember I was out for a drink with Rossi, who had taken very seriously his job to help me transition from a single man with no clue about dates, to a man married to the woman of his dreams.

That night he took me to one of his favorite bars, which apparently had seen better days. It was old, dirty, and mostly empty, except for a very old guy singing karaoke at the back of the room, and some regulars.

- "That's where I saw Carolyn for the first time."- Dave pointed at a table in a corner, where a guy seemed to have passed out. I widened my eyes and looked at him, not impressed.

- "No offense, Rossi, but this place is kind of a dump."- of course, he was offended.

- "Oh, back then it wasn't."- he argued and tried to sell me the place - "Back then, the biggest names would come here: Creedence, The Eagles, Chicago. It was a Marine bar. They played for us jarheads."

- "What was Carolyn doing here?"- I asked, trying to focus on the story and not on the number of bacteria in every glass in that bar.

- "Waiting for Ringo."- Rossie replied as I stared at him surprised. - "Beatlemania was no joke. I mean, it would make the women crazy. She'd write them a letter once a week, begging the band to come visit."

I smiled thinking that sounded like something (Y/N) might have done as well, though instead of writing letters, she would tweet her favorite band and spam them with messages begging for a show in town.

- "Did they ever come?"- I asked and Rossi nodded, with a smile.

- "Ringo did, after his divorce. But luckily, Carolyn met me first. But that's how we all became friends."- I was about to add something when the waitress arrived with our second round.

- "Devil honey for Dave and a light beer for the kid."- I smiled at her and whispered a shy thank you as she left the bottle in front of me. I was about to sip it when the sound of a text message coming from David's phone reminded me duty ruined most of our fun times.

- "Oh, on second thought, Helen... it's Garcia."- Rossi announced and looked at me.

- "So much for a night off."- I sighed and left the bottle back on the table, untouched.

- "You better bring us the bill."

- "Ok. That'll be 10 bucks."- the waitress replied quickly, and I moved to grab my wallet, but David stopped me.

- "No, you can charge us for the drinks we didn't have. Drinks are on me, kid."

- "Everything's marked down until it's all gone."- the waitress announced and showed us a banner announcing Rossi's favorite place was closing in a few days.

- "Oh, you can't close! This place is history!"- he argued immediately, shocked by the news.

- "Unfortunately, Dave, history doesn't pay the bills."- Helen, the waitress, replied and shook her head as Rossi sighed, defeated.

- "Marines used to be big business!"- he said and looked at me, I don't know if waiting for words of support or just trying to convince me.

- "Still are. That's why three new bars opened up across the street."- Helen explained and then asked- "What's that thing they say about competition?"

- "It breeds success?"- I told her, but she cut me off.

- "It sucks."

- "Well..."- Rossi stood up and I followed, grabbing my jacket- "Keep the change."

- "Thank you, Dave."- Helen smiled and looked at him for a few seconds, giving him a knowing look, and then walked away.

- "I hate to see this place go."- Rossi said to me as he stood there, staring around him at all the memories he had in that place. I tapped on his shoulder and walked out of the bar.

- "We could come back again after we solve this case."- I suggested, trying to cheer him up. - "Bring the rest of the team, enjoy one last drink here. I'm sure (Y/N) and García would love to hear all the stories this place has."

When we reached the BAU that night, (Y/N) was already there with Blake, García, and Hotch. I walked toward my wife and held her hand.

- "Ma cherié, did you get to enjoy your evening at home?"- I whispered and she sighed.

- "I prepared the perfect bathtub, got myself a glass of wine, and I had a brand new book to enjoy. And it all went to waste."- she pouted and I ran my thumb down her cheek a few times, caressing her soft skin.

- "I'm sorry, chipmunk."- the rest of the team joined us in the briefing room, which forced us to be professional and move from each other a little bit- "We could take a bath together after we solve this case."

- "That sounds so nice." - (Y/N) sighed and smiled at me. - "How was your night out with Rossi?"- she asked as we sat around the table in the briefing room.

- "We had fun, we have to go to the bar he took me"

- "Was it good?"

- "No, actually it was old and dirty, but it's his favorite and it's closing."- she chuckled as Rossi turned to me, from the other side of the table, looking absolutely offended.

- "It's a very respectable place! You are lucky you visited it!"

- "That's why I'm telling my wife we should go!"- I replied, doing my best not to laugh. I knew he was affected by the closing news.

- "And we will, you don't have to tell me twice."- (Y/N) said quickly- "If there is booze and Rossi approves, I'm dying to go."

That case was in Boston, a psychotic was on the loose and had already killed three men and stolen their wallets. Though nothing tied the victims together, our guy was on a mission, and it was more likely to strike again before we got there.

We were already in the jet, going through the briefs and trying to find anything that could lead us to find this guy quickly.

- "We need to determine where he's finding his victims."- Hotch said, and I locked eyes with my wife, who was sitting next to me.

- "Geographically speaking, none of the victims live near one another, but they were all killed downtown, which is where the unsub likes to operate."- I said as she nodded, but before (Y/N) could say something, Blake commented.

- "That fits with where Maxford works, but not with the other two victims."

- "His area of control, while relatively small, includes a number of residential and commercial buildings."- I started rambling out loud.

- "Can you do the math that might help us?"- my wife suggested.

- "Well, factoring in a 3-mile radius in a city with a population of 636, 479 over 48.28 miles, we're looking at approximately 39,549.23 people living in his comfort zone."- I blurted out and (Y/N) kept staring at me with a sweet smile, as the rest of the team looked at each other like I was a freak.

- "How many of them are male?"- Morgan asked me and I replied in a blink.

- "18.944,08."

- "Garcia, start with the victim's known associates."- Hotch commanded as I felt (Y/N)'s hand on mine, intertwining our fingers.

- "Your brain is so fucking hot"- my wife whispered and I chuckled, embarrassed- "I love hearing you do math on anything."

- "Never let her go, kid"- Rossi overheard her words and smiled at us. I guess so did JJ, 'cos she looked at us with a funny stare in her eyes before standing up and walking to the kitchen to get herself a cup of tea.

Our guy was Tanner Johnson, and he was in fact, on a mission. He wanted to gain his ex-wife's trust back again to prove to her that he could take care of her and her new baby after their 10-year-old Jeremy had died. He wanted to be a good father, and in a way to protect everybody who lived under his roof, he started killing people who he thought were a bad influence for them and even kept a scrapbook, filled with proof of his murders.

I remember being in a van with Morgan, on our way to Mrs. Johnson's house, where she was being kept against her will by our unsub. (Y/N) was with JJ and Blake in another van, as Rossi and Hotch stayed back at the station, watching the surveillance cameras Tanner kept, still streaming everything that was happening in his old family home.

We just made it in time before Mrs. Johnson had the baby, and I was glad for once I had memorized all of the delivery manuals I had come across when JJ was pregnant, just in case she went into labor on the field.

- "Hannah, how far apart are your contractions?"- I put my gun down as I stood in front of Mrs. Johnson and Tanner, who had a knife against her throat. Morgan kept pointing at him, but I knew he didn't have a clean shot.

- "They're constant!"- the poor woman in labor screamed in pain. I looked at Derek and shook my head. I knew I had to do something quickly.

- "The baby's coming now!"- I announced the obvious, knowing the entire team was listening, and hoped for the best.

- "Look, man, your baby is about to be born. Now, we want to help you, but you need to put that weapon down."- Morgan tried to dialogue with Tanner, but it was impossible. He wasn't going to cooperate.

- "No! This is my child! I'm not leaving it!"- the unsub shouted, so I slowly moved closer, put on a pair of gloves, and took a deep breath staring at Mrs. Johnson, trying to get her to mimic my breathing.

- "Hannah, I need you to breathe deeply. Breathe deeply."-

I kneeled in front of her and did my best to look as confident as possible, though deep down I was so freaked out I was hoping I wasn't going to keep any memories of that moment.

- "Hannah, I need you to start pushing..."- I whispered, but she refused.

- "I can't."

- "Yes, you can, baby, just like with Jeremy."- the unsub tried to help, but she didn't want anything from him.

- "This is not helping!"- Hanna mumbled under her breath, she was in so much pain that I knew I had to find a way to get him away from her as soon as possible.

- "Tanner, you need to let her go. The stress isn't good for the baby. If Hannah doesn't start pushing now we could lose the child."- I commanded him, but he kept the knife against her neck and refused to move.

- "I have to watch him. I have to keep him safe."- he argued and stared at me as if I was a threat to the baby's security.

- "Like you did with Ashley?"- Derek caught his attention, which left me focused on the baby.

- "That was an accident. I didn't mean to."- Tanner mumbled

- "I know you didn't. Accidents happen. What happened with Jeremy was an accident, right?"- Derek continued talking, and I knew he had hit a very sensitive string in the unsub. It could only help us or put the baby's safety in jeopardy.

- "If I'd have been there I could have helped him."- Tanner was taken by those words and his whole shift. That was the key to helping Hanna. So I took advantage of his concern.

- "Guys, something's wrong."- I tried my best to look convincing. - "The umbilical cord is wrapped around the baby's throat."- I didn't want to trouble Hanna, but I had to do something.

- "No!"- Tanner yelled right away, as well as his poor wife.

- "Well, Reid, do something."- Morgan got it right away, and kept his eyes glued on Tanner as I continued lying.

- "I need something to cut the cord with, quickly!"

My words came as urgent as it was needed, and Tanner didn't hesitate to give me the knife to cut the cord. In two seconds, Morgan grabbed him and started taking him out of the room, as the unsub yelled and tried to fight back. Just then, (Y/N) walked in with JJ and Blake, and she quickly kneeled next to me.

- "Don't worry, Hannah, your baby's doing fine, but you need to keep pushing. Ready?"

- "Medics are on their way."- my wife announced, but I shook my head and continued doing my work.

- "We can't risk moving her now. We'll have to deliver the baby here."

- "Oh, God!"- Hanna yelled and (Y/N) quickly held her hand after putting a pillow underneath her back.

- "It's gonna be ok, Hanna, trust him, he is a doctor."- I looked at my wife for a second and though I knew she meant it as words of reassurance for the victim, they worked for me as well.

- "Come on! squeeze her hand as hard as you can and push"- I said and watched her struggle to do it.

- "Oh, I can't. I can't."

- "Yes, you can! You're doing great!"- (Y/N) said and rubbed Hanna's hand on her- "You are amazing!"

- "Yes! you're doing great. I can see the head! Keep pushing! Keep pushing!"

It didn't take much for the baby to come out. I held him in my hands, (Y/N) helped me cut the umbilical cord, and we wrapped him in a blanket that was lying around on a couch. Medics arrived and took care of Hanna while my wife held the newborn with tears in her eyes.

- "You are amazing Spencer."- she whispered as the two of us kept our eyes on the baby- "I can't believe you just did that."

- "I wouldn't have done it without you, ma cherie."- I replied and kissed her temple.

- "You are not delivering our babies, by the way."- she said after a few seconds and chuckled- "I'm gonna need all the epidural they can give me."

And just like that, the thought was inside my brain like a disease that wouldn't stop spreading. It wasn't like I hadn't thought about having babies with (Y/N). I had imagined a future with her in many ways possible. And that was exactly the point: at that moment in our lives, it was possible. And the overwhelming amount of things that could go wrong was impossible to overlook. They were there each time I looked at her.

Ever since we got married, the possibility of having kids has been present in our lives. We weren't officially trying, but I knew it was something we were both thinking about. And for a moment, it was perfect. Until I remembered there was a chance our kids could inherit my mother's schizophrenia. I know that disease tends to run in families, and though studies show there is no single gene to be responsible, the possibility of having kids with that disease was real. And I knew I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I ever put (Y/N) through any painful situation.

So I tried not to bring the subject up after we came back home, and for a few days, it worked. Until, well, it didn't.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I knew there was something wrong with Spencer as soon as we hopped back into the jet from Boston. He delivered that baby and something triggered him. I didn't want to pressure him, so I acted like a good wife and let him process the events at his own pace. I assumed it had something to do with the whole experience of delivering that kid and the fact we had talked a few times about having our own little family, but probably that whole moment had been eye-opening for him.

What if he didn't want to have kids anymore? What if he wasn't as ready as I felt? I was ready to quit taking the pill. I wanted to start trying to get pregnant. I wanted a little Spencer to love and take care of. Teach them all the things I knew. Watch them grow... I was fully ready to be a mom, and somehow I was scared to bring it up to Spencer. I was afraid he didn't want to anymore.

And then, the team made sure to force us into the conversation the Friday night we were all out together. We were at Rossi's favorite marine bar, the one he had brought my husband earlier in the week. Penelope and I gathered a bunch of people from the FBI and invited them over to say farewell to a piece of Washington's history. We also told them Rossi was buying the drinks, which explains why it was packed.

- "So, let's toast"- I said and raised my glass. The entire team and my husband were there with me, to enjoy our free night- "To spend more evenings together with family."

- "And to Dr. Spencer Reid, who may be adding M. D. to an already impressive list of credentials."- Hotch added, looking at my husband, who blushed, embarrassed.

- "And to Spencer Johnson, may he prove to be the child prodigy like his namesake."- Derek added- "I'm shocked there is a kid named after you out there before you two even have your first baby."

I know I smiled because little Spencer was a very cute and healthy baby, and I was (and still am) proud my husband helped deliver him. But the guys didn't stop teasing us after that.

- "And when are we going to have baby geniuses running around the BAU?"- Garcia asked- "I am ready to start knitting and spoiling your kids!"

- "Yeah, I'm surprised you haven't knocked your wife up already!"- and Morgan was on board with the joke- "I mean, are you doing things properly?"

- "Stop!!"- I nearly covered my ears with my hands

- "Emily said she'd happily fly from London just to assist with the baby shower I'm throwing you."

- "Penelope, I am not even pregnant yet."- I tried to reason with her, but it was useless.

- "You just said so, yet. But you will. Please! you'd make the cutest little munchkins!"- Garcia stared at me pouting.

- "Come on, don't pressure them."- Hotch tried to be the voice of reason, but it was impossible.

- "I'm sure Henry would love having a little cousin"- JJ smiled at us and sipped her drink.

- "Come on! This night is not about us."- Spencer chuckled, clearly awkward with the conversation, and raised his glass of whisky- "To Dave Rossi!"- and luckily, everybody else followed.

- "I still can't believe you guys did this."- Dave was surprised the place was packed

- "We wanted to make sure you had one last proper goodbye."- I assured him and felt his arm around me.

- "Grazzie, carissima!"

- "And I may or may not have posted on the Quantico message boards that all the drinks are on you tonight."- Garcia confessed, making us all laugh, busted.

- "And they are, indeed. Thank you very much!"- Dave added and we all raised our glasses again. The guys continued talking, but Spencer's eyes captured my whole attention. He was staring at his hands, holding his glass. He seemed concerned about something he clearly was overthinking. So I let David's arm go and walked closer to my husband.

- "Are you ok?"- I whispered, resting my hand on top of his. He slightly jumped and looked at me, surprised.

- "Yeah, sorry. I zoned out a little. I'm exhausted."

- "Do you wanna go home?"

- "No, it's Rossi's night..."- Spencer smiled with his teeth, but not with his eyes.

- "The guys..."- but before I could continue talking, I felt JJ's hand grabbing me and my husband and crawling us to the stage.

- "Come on guys!! Karaoke time!"- she commanded, as she gave us a mic, and Rossi started singing Billy Joey's "Piano Man". I looked around me, chuckling, 'cos the whole scene was surreal. The entire FBI quarters was in that bar, drinking and singing along as my friends and I sang karaoke. And Hotch even made a video.

Spencer held my hand as he tried to read the lyrics of The Piano Man, and I stared at him remembering the day he proposed. That was one of the most romantic things he had ever done. And watching him sing karaoke in that bar brought me back a million memories. We had grown so much already, that I felt we were ready to take our relationship to the next level: parenting. But somehow, I was scared to ask my husband if he wanted to have a baby with me.

As the night progressed, and Penelope got drunker and drunker, she continued to ask us about kids. She was very excited and eager to become an aunt. Apparently, our baby geniuses were what her life was lacking. Rossi was pretty drunk too, he sang a lot of Sinatra and even dragged Hotch on stage with him for a duet. I had a few whiskeys myself trying to find the courage to face my husband, who had a few drinks as well but kept doing his best to mask the fact something was bothering him.

Until I couldn't stand it anymore.

- "Ok, come here."- I grabbed Spencer's hand and dragged him through the crowd. I heard Morgan teasing us but I paid little attention to what he said. I just looked for a quiet spot in that packed bar, which ended up being the alley outside and asked my husband.

- "What is hunting that pretty brain of yours?"- and he stared at me with wide-opened eyes, trying to come up with something to deny what was obvious to me.

- "How much did you drink, chipmunk? I'm ok."

- "No you are not, you haven't been ok since we came back from the last case. So come on, spit it. I don't wanna dance around this for days until we both do something stupid or say something hurtful. Just say it, what is eating you alive?"

Spencer stared at me and finished his drink- a light beer- his eyes were so sweet and yet filled with fear. What was so scary that he couldn't share with me?

- "I hate that you know me so well sometimes"- he whispered and looked down at his shoes

- "No you don't. You love it."- I teased him and smiled as I walked closer and rested my hands on his waist- "Come on honey bunny. You know you can tell me anything."

- "I know."

- "So? Are you gonna tell your wife what's wrong?"- I whispered and Spencer finally looked at me. His puppy eyes could melt the coldest heart, and make my knees shake.

- "Let me ask you this"- he whispered after a few seconds of a very deep silence- "When you married me, did you ever think that my family's illness history might affect our kids?"

I stared at him confused. Which was that illness' history he was talking about? As far as I knew, it was just his mother's schizophrenia. Was there something else he never told me about?

- "What?"- I simply asked and Spencer stared at me like the answer was obvious- "You mean Diana?"- he nodded and looked back at his feet again, embarrassed he brought it up.

- "I just... can't stop thinking I could never forgive myself if our kids inherit any of..."- he stopped talking and shook his head, unable to even finish that sentence.

- "Where is this coming from? Why are you thinking about these kinds of things?"

I held his hand and kissed it, his eyes were still glued to his feet, not moving. A few curls of hair fell down his forehead, giving him an angelic look.

- "I never even considered it, Spencer. Not even once. Every time I think about our kids, I dream of them running around, catching bugs, and eating cookies"- I tell him my truth. I never considered Diana's schizophrenia as something we could even think about when it came to our kids. Why should we? You can't predict any disease and fear was not going to stop me from having my own family.

Spencer held my left hand and kissed my ring finger, a sweet gesture he did quite often, especially when something was troubling him.

- "I would never forgive myself if any of them inherited a disease from me."- the way Spencer whispered those words, so slowly, so scared. It moved me.

- "Honey, you won't..."

- "I just don't want to ruin their life"- his eyes filled with tears and his voice broke. My husband was honestly concerned about something that we couldn't even control. And I knew that meant that idea was eating him alive.

I remember walking with him from the back alley of a bar to our car parked on the other side of the street. It was late and everyone at the party was already drunk, so I didn't bother saying goodbye or telling anyone we were leaving.

Spencer and I sat in the back seat of our car and I held both of his hands as he kept trying not to cry. His jaw was tightened and his eyes glassy. It made me feel so guilty. My husband had been chewing those torturous thoughts the entire week, and I had been blind enough to think he was merely second-guessing having kids with me.

- "Spencer, I need you to look at me."- I whispered and held a finger underneath his chin, forcing his eyes to focus on mine. He bit his lip as I did my best to remain calm.

- "This is important, so please give your entire attention and eidetic memory."- I tried to joke, but he didn't smile or even move his face as I spoke.

- "Ever since I realized I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, there hasn't been a day where I haven't thought of how amazing it would be having kids with you."- I said, and tears started falling from his eyes as I spoke. I had to pause and rearrange my thoughts, because watching him so affected made me think I was doing something wrong.

- "And you know that was way before we even started dating. Which means I've dreamed about having kids with you for a long time. And never, and I mean never, the thought of them inheriting any kind of trait from either of us has made me second guess or reconsider my dreams. I want a family with you, Spencer Walter Reid. I want to have your babies. I want to carry your children, a lot of them, as many as we can."

My husband cried and sobbed as I wrapped my arms around him and held him close to me. I didn't know what to do or what to say next. I just wanted to take all the pain away from him.

- "I just... I just want to make you happy."- he mumbled against my neck as I kept running my fingers through his hair and trying my best to be the support he needed at that minute.

- "You already make me happy, Spencer."- I kissed his cheek, not moving an inch away from him- "And I know our kids will make me even happier."

- "I just wish I knew they are going to be healthy."

- "They will be."- I assured him, not giving it much thought.

- "But how do you know?"

- "You are gonna be their dad. You will never let anything bad happen to them."- I affirmed, though it sounded more like an order to fate. - "And I'm gonna be their mom, I will always take care of our babies."

- "You are not scared?"- he asked softly and looked at me with teary eyes.

- "The only thing that scares me to death is the idea of you not wanting to have babies with me."- I confessed, and though he was the one crying, I felt embarrassed sharing my deepest fear.

- "I want so many babies with you. I've thought about it since we met."- my husband answered, and for a second, he smiled at me- "I was scared to bring it up, but... I'm so ready to be a dad."

- "Then please, let me make you a dad."- I was so eager to change his mood and lift his spirits, that I was almost ready to do it right there, in the back seat of our car. His lips found mine, and we sealed our pack, as his arms wrapped me tight and held me close to him.

We were finally ready to start our little family.  

Next chapter

[writtenbyjos]

Starlight and Shadows: Gravity Falls Prologue #1

Prologue 1: Vagabond

((ALL FAN-FICTION RELATED CONTENT AND OC'S BELONG TO ME))

Gravity Falls, oh it is good to be back! I am BEYOND excited to share this with you guys, I've put my absolute heart and soul into writing this story, but I'm going to post chapters 1-5 whenever I can finally get them polished, edited and formatted the way I want. But this is the first prologue out of two that's going to set up the story before the story even begins. It'll introduce Eliza and Matilda, (Matilda's Prologue COMING SOON) and gives some context for where we'll pick up later in the story. It's going to be a full fledged story with all the angst, romance, mystery and adventure your heart can handle. To let you know what you'll be getting yourself into, we have a very charming and mysterious male antagonis with unknown intentions named Trick, changlings, vampires, the darker, more sinister side of Gravity Falls, inter-dimensional travel, heartbreak, a character who can see and communicate with ghosts, flashbacks and delving deep into some angsty Pines Twins content. What the people (AND ME) love to see. I've posted some artwork of my OC's, Eliza and Matilda if you wanna go check it out! I am so hyper-fixated on this fanfiction, its actually insane. Like, Gravity Falls has literally taken my mind and heart hostage and I am a WILLING participant. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this little story as much as I have enjoyed writing it! :) <3 Attaching the Spotify playlist I created to read along with the stories. Enjoy!!

(ALL GRAVITY FALLS CONTENT BELONGS TO ALEX HIRSCH AND THAT KING ON EARTH ONLY WE ARE HUMBLE SERVANTS)

Summary:

PROLOGUE PLOT:

The first prologue (Vagabond) revolves around the happenstance meet cute and completely chaotic situation that Stanley and Eliza find themselves in. Eliza is an ex-pageant queen hailing from a wealthy family business, but escaping to big cities to live out her dreams of being on stage while haboring a complex darkness she can't seem to break free of. But right now, performing nightly at a seedy variety club downtown with her two best friends will suffice. After a heist gone very, VERY wrong, Stanley Pines, hunky drifter, takes cover from a cop chase and drug bust into an alley where he stumbles through a back door-- and onto Eliza, in a robe, smoking a cigarette out the door before she goes on for her first set. Their meeting would set off a butterfly effect, and set many events into motion. And the rest, my friends, is history.

MAIN PLOT (IN PROGRESS): After a year of sailing the seven seas and repairing their strained relationship and re-discovering their love and zest for life, Stan and Ford Pines return to Gravity Falls to spend a highly anticipated second summer with Dipper and Mabel, fresh off the track of their first successful year of high school. Dipper and Mabel have been trying to figure out how to be teenagers under the strain of their parent's failing relationship while Ford and Stan have made a fortune from their research. But while still trying to re-adjust to normal life after the traumatic events of defeating Bill and surviving Weirdmageddon, everyone still feels weary of calm waters and still haven't found their footing. But they know as long as they'll have each other, they can make it through anything. After the reunite, it was as if they had never left. The whole gang is back and better than ever. But in Gravity Falls, all is not always as it seems... and when Stan's long time old flame Eliza resurfaces and her estranged, mysteriously charming lover Trick comes looking for her, he brings with him a looming threat that no one could have ever imagined. This would be the summer where everyone's lives changed forever.

It was a hot, soggy-aired late afternoon where the days of august seemed to drag on like a bad movie. In Las Vegas, you needed three things, a tough hide, a sharp mind and a little dumb luck. In 1978, 'Grease' had just been released, and dancing was the capture of everyone's attention, but anew kind. Big cities like these offered the opportunity for young people with big dreams to think they could take the world, where it was almost still possible for people to have hope for the future, everything was so unknown, so mysterious. Stanley Pines was no exception. After a disastrous attempt to pull off a heist that involved certain "illegal" and "counterfeit" goods, exotic animal smuggling and a fake ID ended in being busted by two undercover cops. Stanley was once again evading the arrest and capture as he hurtled himself through the busy streets of one of his favorite cities in the world. He'd become well acquainted with the unpredictability and excitement of las Vegas. In other words, Stan had successfully learned how to be a full time criminal, evading the grasp of the LVPD many times in the past year. But this time… this time he may have taken things just a little too far.

As his heart pounded in his ears, he made sharp turns on street corners, jumped over chain link fences and ducked into a few port-o-poties eventually pushing some sad sack off their tourist bike and making a mad dash for the south side of town, where he knew he could find enough chaos to blend in with or a seedy bar to hide in. He cycled through the sidewalks and lights like a race car on a fast track.

He had become addicted to the feeling of escaping the authorities, it was the same rush he would get when he'd do something to get him sent to detention in high school. There was still no feeling like it. But he was so caught up in the adrenaline of outrunning the police, he nearly crashed into a construction site surrounding a large pot hole gaping in the middle of the sidewalk. He swerved around and barely missed it, laughing as he looked back, pounding a fist proudly into the air.

"Suckers!" He cackled. But what happened next was no laughing matter. He felt a small bump underneath the tires and his heart sank as the wheels began to pedal slower and slower.

"Goddammit, not now, not now! Fuck! Shit!" He cursed to himself, pulling over by a brightly lit club and hopping off into its hidden alleyway. He examined the front wheel: busted. There was a giant nail stuck in the tire, presumably from the construction site he almost fell face first into moments ago. He grabbed his hair in his clutched fists frantically and paced back and forth, in a disheveled suit he had sticky fingered from an old thrift store for this exact occasion. He put his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath.

"He went that way! We got him now!" He heard voices yelling from the street not too far away and knew he had to think of a plan and fast, if he didn't want to be locked up and sent off to the big house. He looked around frantically for an escape, and spotted a back door that was slightly open, cracked. He didn't think twice, just forward and lunged for the door, opening it and hurting himself inside. He managed to get himself through the door and flattened himself against the wall just as the cop car zoomed past the alleyway in the opposite direction, away from the club. It was one of his more graceful exits. But what wasn't so graceful, was his crash landing. He'd gotten his boot stuck in part of the ply wood that stuck up from the ground and fallen face first onto the dusty floor. Luckily, his giant nose broke his fall. He lay there for a minute, unsure if he could move his anything. He sighed and turned over to lay on his back, grimacing from the pain of falling flat on his forehead.

"Hey, this is a closed smoke session, buddy." A gravely voice startled him almost half to death, and it was coming from a short-torso-ed, long legged, blonde leaning against a door frame with a lit cigarette in her left hand, taking a long drag. Before he could say anything, she stepped over to him where he was sprawled out on the floor like a complete idiot about to make a snow angel with no snow. She was wearing nothing but a pink robe with fluffy cuffs and red platform heels—a specific detail that Stan would remember fondly for years and years to come. With every step closer she got, her heels echoed in the hallway full of metal shafts and a boiler sitting in the corner huffing like a train engine, presumably about to burst open. She seemed to walk in sync with the bursts of hot air, like the world was her stage and it beckoned to her every move.

"I—uh…sorry…" He scrambled to his feet as she towered over him, a look of annoyance plastered on her face as she took another drag and puffed it into the already clouded air. When he got to his feet and brushed his jacket off, he winced at the still open door that spilled into the street that he'd just been chased down. He closed it with two hands and huffed, turning back towards this mysterious stranger. And from this angle, he was almost stricken with how beautiful she was.

"Hey I'm smokin' here! Why'd you close the door?" She whined.

"I think you'll live." Stan muttered, catching his breath, searching around the room for something to barricade the door closed.

"Who the hell are you, anyways?" She asked, more inconvenienced than upset, watching him scramble about.

"No time to explain! Just help me keep this door shut, toots!" She eyed him suspiciously and crossed her arms. He looked at her with a pleading look and sighed, rubbing his eyes together with one fist. "Please?" He asked. The woman groaned and dropped her shoulders.

"Fine, fine." She said huffing. She threw him an old pipe from a pile of metal scraps and broken show signs in the hallway and Stan made a makeshift lock so that no one could barge in without exerting a good amount of effort. She came up right behind him and fastened a small chair and placed it underneath the door handle, making sure it was secure. She took her arm in his and put out her cigarette on a small ash tray by the door and lead him hastily to a small door down the hall. Upon entering, it looked like makeshift dressing room. He ran in and caught his breath, the lady shutting the door abruptly behind her.

"Y'know, most times I don't let strange men into my room until at least the third date." She said putting her hands on her curvy hips. Stan propped his forearm on a beam and wiped the sweat off his forehead panting a little from all the excitement. When his head cleared enough for him to realize she had just back handedly insulted him, he felt his face turn red.

"Hey! I'm not strange! Besides, y-you're the one who pulled me in here!" He said smoothing out his beige leisure suit and shook his head. "Strange men my ass…geez, women are so paranoid." He muttered under his breath, irritably. He'd had just about enough of today.

"How about I throw you back onto the street? Hello? I'm also the one who saved your ass back there!" She said, strutting over to him and poking an accusatory finger into his chest with force. "Where's my thank you?" She said crossing her arms definitely. Stan sighed and decided he needed turn on his charm to smooth his way out of this one, that is, if he wanted to stay hidden from Sergeant Amos and Deputy Jones. He grabbed her chin between his pointer finer and thumb, giving her a warm smile.

"Thank you, princess." He noticed her face flushed with a rose tint.

"I…y-you're welcome." She was trying to act big and tough, but Stan could see a quiver of weakness in her eyes, and he thanked his lucky stars for his natural wit and charm, and that he wasn't his twin nerdy twin brother.

"You got a name, sweetheart?" He asked. She gave him a look and smiled.

"Eliza. Like in 'My Fair Lady'." She held out her hand and Stan took it gently in his, grazing her knuckles with his stubbled lips. "But you can call me Liz." She said, walking her fingers up Stan's torso.

"My fair lady indeed….Liz, I like it. Pretty name for a pretty gal like you. I'm Staley Pines. But…you can call me Stan. Nice to meet ya." He said with an award winning smile.

"So, you man of mystery, I know I'm probably gonna regret asking this and regret letting you into my dressing room but, who or what exactly, did I just save you from?" She took a few steps closer with each word til she was inches away from his face, fiddling with the hem of his coat. He didn't know if she was pickpocketing him or just feeling him up. Either way, he didn't care.

Stan gulped and tugged on his jacket collar.

"See, if I told you, where's the fun in that?" He chuckled nervously.

"Oh look—my dressing room telephone…" She pulled away and grazed her hand over a pink rotary next to her lit up mirror and a few make-up brushes. "Hello? Hello operator? There's a strange man in my dressing room that won't leave me alone…" She pretend to be on the phone and twisted the wire between her little fingers, feigning fright.

"Alright, alright! I'll tell you, just—just put the phone down, shortcake." He held out his hands cautiously, as if he were talking her down from the ledge. "But… how do I know you're not just gonna call the cops for real?" She put her weight on one foot and played with the belt of her robe.

"I guess you'll just have to trust me." She said bopping him on the nose.

"Meh, cut it out!" He chuckled, gently swiping her hand away. "Fine…I was uh, I was sorta being…chased or something." He said sheepishly.

"Or something?" She asked, holding back a chuckle. "Who was chasing you?" She crossed her arms.

"Charley and Hudson Combs, L.V.P.D. Precinct nine." Stan waited for her to make the usual judge-y, freaked out or doped out reaction he'd usually gotten from everyone else, but she never did. She just nodded and raised an eyebrow, pulling a box of cigarettes from the breast pocket on her robe. She lit another cigarette and motioned for him to continue.

"I was… s-supposed to meet a few fellas about getting a few tigers and an alligator down across the boarder. Know what? I shouldn't be telling you this. You need plausible deniability." He winced, but there was still no reaction out of Liz except a slow, exhale of smoke from her drag and a nonchalant shrug of reassurance. Stan sighed. "…But when I met up with the buyers to seal the deal, they turn out to be undercover cops! They tried to arrest me but uh…" He chuckled proudly. "Let's just say these hands can get away from anything, out of any situation. I managed to outsmart 'em and get them off my trail…maybe just long enough to buy me some time to figure out my next move. But twiddle-dee and twiddle dumber put a slash in every one of my tires! Gonna cost an arm and a leg, too.

"So how'd you end up on the floor of my Long story short, I've been trying to outrun these asswipes for half an hour now!" He exclaimed.

"Well, why the hell didn't you just say so?" She asked casually, still holding out her cigarette with a bent wrist.

"What?" He asked, surprised at her accepting nature…or was he skeptical?

"Why didn't you say that earlier? It would've made things a lot easier! There's a secret stairway that goes up to the attic, dummy." She said matter of factly.

"Well, in a city like this, who knows who you can really trust? Or if…if you're a guy like me…" He said shifting uncomfortably. Eliza half smiled, knowingly.

"A hunky drifter with a thrill problem?" She asked giving him a look down. Stan ran his fingers through his hair and shot her a hand gun, winking.

"Haha, yeah!"

"Wait here." She said, turning around briskly and meandering towards the back of her boudoir.

"Look, Eliza… I appreciate you and all of this but I don't exactly have time to wait. I need to figure out what the fuck I'm gonna do! What if they come looking for me here? I left the bike outside, I mean…I'm toast! Christ on a saltine cracker…" He took a flask from his pocket and guzzled down a large swig of whiskey.

"Calm down, mon cher," she had disappeared behind a drape and he heard her fiddling through what sounded like a dresser or drawer of some kind. "You're bumming my good mood. Besides, all you need, is a little wardrobe change!" She sang.

"What the fuck?" Stan muttered to himself. "What the hell does a wardrobe change have to do with getting me off the hook? So I can take a prettier mugshot?"

"God. Men are so lucky to have women. You're all hopeless. Without us, you'd be chasing your tails, itching your fleas and off starting wars." She called. "Oh wait, too late."

"That's debatable." Stan muttered, taking another swig of his drink.

"Hey pal, I have a strict alcohol policy here." She said coming around the corner with a new suit, some make up and a bag of mystery supplies. Stan put his flask away quickly and blushed trying to play it off cool. She set down her haul on her make up table and put her hands on her hips.

"No alcohol allowed." She frowned.

"Damn, you really know how to have fun, don't you?" He asked, putting it away.

"I said, no alcohol…Unless you're willing to share." Eliza extended her hand expectedly and Stan felt a sly grin grip at the corner of his lips. He shook his head and sighed.

"Guess I misjudged you, kid." He said handing her the flask. She twisted one the top.

"Guess you did." She said taking a giant swig, both alarming and impressing Stan at the same time.

"You nervous or something? What's got you so thirsty?" He chuckled, amused as she wiped her mouth with her arm and handed him his flask back.

"Pre-show nerves. And there's a very devilishly handsome stranger in my boudoir." She hummed.

"Devilishly handsome, eh?" Stan tried to appear more confident and put together than he really was and leaned on the side of her mirror, like he'd seen James Dean do many a time in the movies."Hey, what's the plan with those? This devilishly handsome stranger needs to make like a bird and fly out of here, y'know…unseen." He stroked his chin, looking at the pile of stuff on her table.

"Cops can't arrest you if they don't recognize you." She said smiling, holding out the suit for him. It was flashy alright, it was black with electric blue lighting strikes and a silky pant to match. She had picked out a wig with long brown hair, and a fake mustache to tie it all together. It was a stretch, but better than anything he had on hand.

"Huh. You really think this disguise can hide me from the cops? Don't you think it's a little too…sparkly? What if I just draw attention to myself?"

"Thats the point! If you were trying to outrun the law, the last thing you'd be doing is going to a sketchy variety show at a dingy night club. You'll be hidden in plain sight! Besides, I've never met anyone who can grow a mustache in under half an hour, Stanley." She raised her eyebrows and Stan felt his stomach settle for the first time all day. This might actually work.

"I like your style, kid. That's impressive. Crazy, but we might be able to pull this off." He said taking the costume and draping it over one arm.

"Are you crazy? Of course we will. I didn't grow up learning how to make myself eight years older with my pageant make up for the fun of it…" She paused and winked. "I did it to help disguise shady figures and get them into the witness protection program."

"Pageants, huh?" Stan asked, masking a snort. Eliza was amused that he didn't even question her comment about the witness protect program.

"Yes." She gritted her teeth and pushed her hair behind her ears.

"Isn't Miss America supposed to be a role model or something? Like a goody two shoes in an expensive dress?" Eliza rolled her eyes.

"You have no idea." She shivered slightly and rubbed her arms quickly.

"You know doll, I did have this under control. But I appreciate the help anyways."

Eliza smirked.

"Right. Until you came stumbling in here with a broken bike and into the arms of a half naked stranger in a leotard? Yeah. Sounds like you have everything under control." She looked amused and Stan blushed. "It's a good thing you're cute." Stan puffed out his chest and cracked his knuckles.

"What can I say? I'm adorable! People can't get enough of me, even the cops keep ridin' my ass from here to New Jersey." Eliza giggled into her hand and adjusted her robe. Stan couldn't help his wandering eyes as they surveyed this lovely stranger he'd stumbled upon, literally, and the slip in her robe near her chest that was opening up just enough to get a better look. She was a good foot and a half shorter than he, with high cheekbones, long blonde hair and big, blue eyes. She had a small trail of freckles lining her nose, and they way her small waist and big hips swayed with every word she said, beckoned Stan to come closer.

"That's debatable." She smirked, turning around, hair hitting Stan square in the face. But he didn't care—it smelled like vanilla ice cream and babies' laughter.

He watched as she made her way behind a curtain and motioned him to look away. "Do you mind? I have to get ready… And you need to get into that suit, pronto."

"R-right, sorry…" Eliza slipped behind a pink curtain by the velvet couch and disappeared. He instinctively turned around and crossed his arms, hearing a zip and a tug here and there. Stan's face flushed and began to shed his layers and put on the blue suit while Eliza was still getting her dress on.

"Where did you say you were from?" She called.

"Uh…that depends. I've been banned in seven states including my hometown…"

"Seven states? No way." She said impressed "And you're hometown…Which is…?" She asked.

"Glass Shard, New Jersey. Born and raised. But like I said, I'm not exactly…allowed back. Got a lot of angry people with fake pitch forks waiting for me if I ever do." He chuckled.

Eliza peered around the satin drape and looked pleasantly surprised when she got a good look at Stan. And vice versa. Her robe had disappeared and she was now wearing a sparkly a two piece set, with a white, bedazzled, form fitting tank top and matching pants with bell bottoms and platform heels that almost brought her up to Stan's chest. She had on big, circle, blue tinted glasses and her hair was teased.

"Very nice. Very Bowie." She said signing Stan to do a turn around with her twirling finger.

"Not so bad yourself, toots. Damn. You're a sight for sore eyes. What I wouldn't give to be walking around the streets of Vegas with a gal like you on my arm." He took her hand and twirled her around slowly, ending her in a dip, locked in his arms. They stayed like this, locked in time for a minute and Stan's eyes wandered to her pink lips, so soft and so thick.

"I mean…if you play your cards right…" She said, the breath taken away from her by their embrace. There was a moment—just a fleeting moment—where he thought she might want to kiss him back, but before she could there was a knock at the door and Stan nearly dropped her on her head before catching her mid fall. She hit his arm and dusted herself off, scoffing. She put a finger to her lips and motioned for him to be quiet.

"Eliza? Your little girl group is on in fifteen. Sage Green is finishing up her last set." A male voice called from the other side of her door.

"Thanks Julio." She called, turning back to Stan, she sighed and went to get the fake mustache and matching wig. "Now then, after you put this on, you're on your own. I have a show to do." She took the mustache and applied a thin line of glue on its sticky side, and stood of her tip toes to reach Stan's upper lip. She stuck it under his nose and smoothed the edges, her fingertips brushing against his lips every now and then. Next, she fitted the wig over his head. Her hands pulling and tugging at his hair was doing more than he'd care to admit. But the look was pretty convincing…and Stan couldn't deny her obvious expertise.

"One more thing…" She reached for her makeup palette and grabbed a brush readying herself to work on Stan's face.

"Woah, woah, woah…that is not touching my face, doll face." He said defensively. "Guy's don't wear makeup! I'm not some kind of sissy." Eliza raised an eyebrow and snickered to herself, dipping the brush in a red color, then a blue, then a black.

"There is so little you understand about the world, Stan. Get your head out of your ass. Do you want to look convincing for the cops or not?" She asked. Stan looked at her, then the make up brush with powder on the end and sighed.

"Fine. But you better not make me look bad." He said. After a few moments of breathing in Eliza's perfume which was a heavenly blend of amber and childhood wonder, he began to grow tired of the poking and prodding of the prickly brush and wondered how the hell women could sit still and do this for hours when he could barely sit still for five minutes. He had a newfound respect. He liked having Eliza stand so close to him, he could hear all the small catches in her breath as she honed in her focus, their lips barely inches away from each other. "I still don't understand how this is gonna help."

"Of course you don't," she sang. "C'mon, admit it, you secretly love this. I know you do." She found his discomfort quite hilarious but Stan just groaned in annoyance.

"Oh yeah, I love getting stabbed in the eye. Feels like I'm kissin' a porcupine. Hey!" He flinched. "Be careful with that thing—you're—you're getting powder in my cornea!" He blinked, scrunched his face up and tried to rub the make up out. Before he could start messing up all her hard work, Eliza scolded him and slapped his hand away. "Great, just great!"

"You big baby. Hold still…" She hissed. "Aaaaand…all done." She stood back and tilted her head. She looked pleased with herself. "Take a look." She stood behind him as he checked himself out in the mirror. And he had to admit it, she make him look like an entirely different person. The wig and mustache combo made him look like a young and hip club goer, and the suit didn't look half bad. What really threw him was the fake black eye she had given him, he assumed with the red and blue make up.

Somehow, she had managed to re-sculpt his face with what little make up she used and he was amazed. He put his hands on his hips and beamed. "And thus, Stanwick Pinestone was born." She winked at him through her reflection.

"You can really do all this with make up?" He looked intrigued, admiring his newly sculpted jaw line.

"Duh! I told you! Make up is the most magical tool in the world. It can turn you into anyone you want to be; on stage and off. Now that's my kind of thrill. It probably doesn't beat illegally smuggling exotic across the Mexican border or being on the FBI's most wanted list, though." She eyed Stan who was rubbing the back of his neck."One thing I do know, is that those guys aren't looking for someone with a black eye and a mustache." She crossed her arms and cocked her hip to one side with pride.

"Lizzy, you're a genius! But the good kind!" He picked her up by her waist without thinking and spun her around in the air. She laughed and gripped tightly onto his forearms, throwing her head back with pride. The thin, blue veiled skirt attached to her was it billowed around and twirled as she did. When he put her down they both took a beat and chuckled uncomfortably.

"I just meant—you—well…thanks. For this." Stan rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "You really are somethin' else." This time, he found it in himself to give her a real, genuine smile.

"Just don't get arrested, I will need that disguise back." She laughed. "And you know what? The mustache combo isn't a bad look for you, in fact, I think it's kind of sexy."

"Yeah, not bad, huh? Let's just hope its enough to keep me out of trouble…for now." He checked himself out in the mirror a few more times, smoothing his fake hair back and stroking his brand new stache.

"Not that I'm not enjoying our little pow-wow, but I do have to get to stage before they cut our act altogether. Are you good from here?" She asked, grabbing a little tiara from a shelf by the door and placing it on her head.

"I'm good from here…" Stan paused when he turned around and noticed the glimmering crown placed carefully on her head. "…Princess." He flashed her a smile.

"You can stay and watch y'know…if you want…" She said.

"Hey, I gotta act the part anyways, right? Can't give it away too soon." Stan said cooly. "Might as well stick around and pretend like I'm having fun. Y'know, sell the look."

"I swear to god, if my girls don't show up soon, I'm going to throw up." She said adjusting her hair and costume.

"Your girls?" Stan air quoted, squinting.

"Ellie and Betty…they're my partners. We sing together? In the variety show."

"What's your act?" Stan asked.

"We're all named Elizabeth…does that count?" She shrugged making Stan chuckle. "The Three El's…it's—it's a work in progress." He could see her blush in the mirror as she powdered her face.

"Oh joy. There's three of you?"

"Hey, I'll have you know we're very popular! Any day now and we'll have a real residency here in the city. Just you wait." She squinted and pointed, getting right up in his face.

"I have no doubt about that. Who wouldn't love you?" He said, coming off as way more confident than he felt, and it was secretly making Eliza's knees weak. She blinked and shrunk off her tip toes.

"If they show up…I hope they're okay. They know how important this show is for us! It's exposure!"

"Hey doll, cheer up! Even if they don't…who need's em? You've got that crowd in the palm of your hands. Knock 'em dead! Break an ankle! Isn't—isn't that what they say in theatre or whatever?" He asked, rolling his wrist.

"Something like that…You're not totally wrong." She said, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"Course I'm not! I'm always right!" He gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze.

"And hey…" He lifted her chin. "If you need someone to play off of, I'm already dressed for the part, huh?" He stretched out his arms and did a turn around.

"You know, you're pretty alright. For a criminal." She winked.

"You're not so bad yourself, y'know… for a pageant queen." He replied. She looked side to side, taken a back slightly.

"How did you…my title?" She shook her head, scanning his face.

"I used to live in Jersey! A.k.a, pageant capital of the East. I know a first place tiara when I see one, kid." He looked up at the little, silver crown on her shelf right above them, picked it up and fitted it on the top of her head gently and she blushed furiously, stunted for words. He mustered all of the courage he didn't have and bent down to kiss her quickly on the cheek. Her face was completely red now, she absent mindedly touched the place he had kissed with her fingertips and smiled, immediately snapping out of it and the color from her face draining at the reminder that she had to go on without her two counter perfomrers.

"Well—partners or no partners! The show must go on! I've gotta get going! Shoo!" She ushered him out the door and she waved as she fled through the hall, but not before turning around, running up to Stan and giving him a quick, hesitant peck on the lips, returning the favor and leaving him stunned and frozen in place. It was…electric. It made him wonder what her lips might've really tasted like.

"Thanks for the drink, Stanwick. See you out there! At least try to act like you're having fun." She saluted him and disappeared into throw two big, double doors, leaving Stan to his own agenda. He already missed her, and wondered how could so much change in the span of half an hour, after having lived without her his entire life.

He entered the main stage area complete with a piano, a bar, a microphone and sea of weirdos clinking glasses and dancing with the disco music blaring from the speakers. He did exactly as him and Eliza had planned, he grabbed a drink, mixed and mingled and tried to stay as calm as he could. He was actually starting to feel like things were going to be okay, until he saw the two cops that were chasing him, slip through the back way and spill into the room. All sense of confidence abandoned him and he began to worry that their entire idea was a bad one that would put him directly in arms reach of the people he was running from. Stan anxiously began to shuffle through the crowd, dodging investigative eyes.

He started to panic, to fear, to imagine himself locked behind bars with no family that cared enough to come and find him. His thoughts were racing, till he felt pressure on his wrist. For a split second, he wondered if his time had finally come. But when he turned his head, he saw Eliza, practically glowing underneath the disco lights, grabbing a hold of his wrist.

"Eliza?" He pulled her in close, sure she could hear the pounding of his heart. She pulled away with a panicked look as well—had she seen something she didn't want to?

"Stanwick, I need your help!" She looked at him with pleading eyes, and Stan melted under the veil of sweet relief that he hadn't been caught yet. Her disguise was working. She pulled him to a back room behind the stage and caught her breath, fanning herself. "I'm going to kill them, I'm going to kill them!" She said frantically.

"Careful, sweet thing. You're still in ear shot of the cops, they came through the front like fifteen minutes ago!"

"Well, they haven't found you yet!" She said dismissively. "Look. You gotta help me. El and Betty—my scene partners, bailed on me! They were supposed to be in costume with their heinies on stage fifteen minutes ago, and no one has seen them! And I need someone to fill in for them and make this a duet. And that someone is gonna be you!" She took his shoulders and shook him.

"Woah, woah, woah there is no way that I'm getting up there with this—"

"You said you'd help me!" She frowned and it was adorable. "Consider it pay back for saving you life!" She put emphasis on the end expectedly.

"Doll, I can promise you, nobody, and I mean nobody—including you—wants to hear me get on that stage and sing. It ain't happenin'. Being a silent stage prop, now that's more up my alley." He said defiantly. Eliza huffed and looked around, as if to find an answer to her situation. "Besides, I thought you said you could handle it by yourself?" Stan said.

"Thinking about doing it yourself is a hell of a lot different than actually doing it by yourself, you know! I didn't think they'd really bail on me!"

"Not…happenin'." He said firmly.

"Look, if you help me with this, I—I'll get you a ride. Anywhere you need to go. I know a guy that works here at the club with a limo we can borrow." She said. Stan looked apprehensively at the stage doors, and then back to Eliza's pleading face. He must've been absolutely out of his damn mind. "Seriously, he can get you anywhere you need to go, but I can't go up there alone and sing a song meant for two or three people by myself!" She pleaded, clasping her hands together. Stan sighed and his shoulders dropped.

"Fine. Since you're practically humping my leg…I'll…I'll do it." He said begrudgingly. Eliza squealed, throwing her arms in the air and then wrapping them around Stan's neck happily.

"Thank you, Stan! I'll make it up to you, I promise!" She hung around his neck like a necktie.

"Kid, this ain't gonna be pretty. I'm warning you now." Eliza dropped down to her feet and grabbed his wrist, pulling him through the bustling dancers and to backstage.

"Just follow me, I'll lead. And…don't worry about those cop guys. They won't bother you." She said slowly.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, kid."

The next few minutes were spent getting the stage equipment ready for singing, and touching up their hair and costumes. It was a smaller club, but everyone involved seemed to be eager to put on a quality show for their patrons. The stage lights shifted and Eliza and Stan stood with hand held microphones with anticipation, his bad and her's good. She took his hand in hers and gave it a little squeeze as the club owner, a tall man with about fifty gold chains around his neck and a mouth full of silver grills announced them.

"Give our little girl a round of applause. To continue our night of nostalgia variety show, Eliza and her—friend will lure us into a night of romance with their rendition of a timeless classic." He said, turning around to face them. He whispered to both them within ear shot:

"If I see those two, it's their heads and your ass. Don't fuck this up." They both nodded.

As the curtains pulled back, the heat and harsh light from the stage lights nearly blinded him, throwing a hand over to shade his eyes out of instinct. Eliza was already posing, holding the microphone like she'd rehearsed what spot to be in. She was absolutely beautiful under the glow of the overheads. But it didn't distract Stan from the burning sensation in the pit of his stomach. The last time he'd gotten up on stage was when he was faced with the decision to be in a high school production for community service hours or face suspension because he had busted into the gym and stolen equipment and left a half smoked joint behind. He was usually prepared for anything, but this wasn't something he was ready to jump head first into.

Stan immediately recognized the song being played on the piano as 'Ain't No Mountain High Enough'. This was gonna be rich.

Stan put on his ultimate con-man facade, to pull off one of the greatest scams ever, tricking this crowd into thinking he could sing. He followed Eliza's lead clumsily but kept up pace. He noticed the uproar in the crowed when Eliza's verse came on and her smooth as silk voice echoed through the microphone. She had the audience completely captivated, and as they came together in harmony, they soon both had them eating out of the palms of their hands, cheering and moving to the rhythm blindly. Eliza's stage presence was unlike anything Stan had ever seen in his life, she was graceful, smooth, confident and…shining. Literally, she was glowing like a star in the night sky. The way her hips moved, and how to crowd moved with her, was intoxicating. It almost made Stan enter late on the second chorus.

As they sang, Stan noticed the two cops swaying in the audience too, as if they had been dismissed from duty like nothing had happened. They even made eye contact once or twice and…nothing. It was like they'd been caught into a trance of some kind…weird. It got him excited enough to really let loose on stage and get caught up in the rhythm of his singing partner and of the song. He and Eliza made a very convincing duet, their chemistry was electrifying the whole room, wether they intended for it to happen or not. Without the fear of being caught, Stan finally let his fun side run wild. He busted a move and tangled Eliza into his arms at every chance he got, conjuring a few excited screams from the ladies in the crowd. After shedding his jacket and letting his gold medallion shimmer in the disco ball's reflection, a pair of underwear was thrown at him and he smiled egregiously. He hadn't had this much fun in years.

Then just as the song ended, the crowd went wild and cheered for the new not-so-power couple. He saw the two cops high five and leave through the front entrance. He had never felt so alive. It was a rush like he had cheated death or gotten away with murder. He and Eliza joined hands and took a bow together, exiting stage left to make room for the other performers. As soon as they were back stage, they burst out into laughter and embraced passionately.

"That was so fucking awesome!" Stan let out a belly laugh, spinning Eliza around in his big arms. "Did you see those moves? I was on fire!" He cheered.

"And to think you tried to tell me that you couldn't sing! You lair! That was amazing!" She pushed a pointer finger into his chest. "I don't think I've ever seen someone throw underwear at a variety show!"

"I've never done anything like that before…I felt so alive. Being there with you—kid—that was…thanks. And…the way you saved me from jail tonight, nobody's ever stuck out their neck like that for me before."

She gave him a warm smile and looked at her feet.

"Don't mention it. You saw them leave too, right?"

"Walked right out that door after looking right at me right in the face! Idiots! Don't know how the hell that happened but who am I to argue with fate?" He ran his hand through his hair, still shaken up by that entire performance.

"Do you…still need that ride?" She looked up at him, a twinge of sadness in her big, pale, blue eyes.

"Well, I mean…if I got those guys off my back, maybe I could…stick around town a little longer. Y'know if the mood strikes me. I've got places to be and suckers to scam. Y'know how it goes." He tried to play it off as aloof, but wished he could just take her in his arms and never let her go again. Because the thought of walking away from someone like her was almost unbearable to think about. Funny how fast things can change on a dime.

"Well, you're always welcome on my dressing room couch. I could use a partner like you…maybe I'd actually be able to get out of this city, make a name for myself." She glanced over to the stage doors.

"Look, I know I con people for a living, so take what I say with a grain of salt but kid. I'm being honest when I tell you I've never heard a voice like yours before. And I've even been to Minnesota!" He barked.

"Thank you, I think?" She half smiled, unsure wether to take it as a compliment or not, considering who she was talking to. Nevertheless, she couldn't ignore the feeling in her chest, that felt like the warm glow of a sunset on an august evening like this one, where everything seemed absolutely perfect. They paused, unsure of what to say but very sure that neither of them wanted to part ways yet.

"Do you…I was supposed to get dinner with the girls but…they aren't here so…" She said twirling her hair anxiously.

"Girls shmirls…They didn't even bother to show up! I mean, you'd have to be pretty dumb to pass up an opportunity like that." He said.

"I just hope they're alright…It's not like them to miss a performance." She rubbed her arms, shivering slightly. Stan realized how cold it was back stage now that they were out from under the heat of the moment and of the crowded, musty stage room. He paused, then draped his suit jacket around her arms.

"I'm sure they just just got caught up in traffic or they're doing lines somewhere. Isn't everyone these days?" Stan smiled at her. "But hey, I gotta admit…kinda glad they didn't show up." Eliza blushed and pushed a strand of loose hair out of her face, almost completely engulfed in how big the jacket was, and how small she was.

"Yeah, who needs 'em anyway?" She said. It was then that Stan noticed a little dimple in the left corner of her mouth and a small gap between her front teeth. She was about as adorable as they come.

"So, you were inviting me to dinner?" Stan chuckled.

"It's funny…I seem to remember you offering to pay." She said sneakily.

"Hey, hey, woah…Let's not get ahead of ourselves here, what kind of man would I be if I enforced those toxic stereotypes? This ain't the nineteen-fifties anymore, baby. But if you're nice to me, maybe I'll buy you a shake."

"What a gentlemen." She said sarcastically.

"Come on, let's get out of these clothes. The sequins on this damn top are making my tits itch." She pouted.

"What happened to the 'third date' rule?" Stan put his arm around her and pinched her cheek. "Did'ya finally find your exception?" He grinned from ear to ear.

"Not a chance." She said putting her head on his shoulder as they walked to her dressing room. "I just don't wanna be worried about getting burger grease on this outfit."

They got back to her room, just as they had left it. Stan felt as though his life was now divided into two parts, before he met Eliza…and then everything that comes after. She freed herself of his grip, and disappeared again behind her changing curtain. Stan looked long and hard in the mirror before he took off his disguise. Was this some divine intervention to get him off the streets for good? Was Eliza some kind of heaven sent protector? He glanced over to a pair of arms that were held up and visible above the curtain rod. Her top was coming off and she stretched, letting out an adorable little grunt.

He changed back into his old clothes, that felt sweaty and smelled like cigarettes. His reflection turned from hunky drifter back to a lost, disheveled, low-life, con-man. Far from the world of glitz and glamour that he'd just been exposed to. He slumped his shoulders and sighed. Where had everything gone so wrong?

"Stan?" Eliza appeared in the mirror next to him, brushing his arm. She had removed her make up and her hair was now up in a messy ponytail, her small stature being devoured under the fabric of a baggy hoodie. The dark circles under her eyes were more evident now, she looked tired. Normal. Angelic.

"Nice to know you're still there under all that make up." Stan teased. She shoved him lightly in the arm and gazed at herself, standing next to him. Maybe she wouldn't let him in on it yet, but seeing them stand side by side brought her a great deal of comfort to her.

"Nice to know you're still an asshole under that wig." She reciprocated.

"Touche." He muttered. "So this is you? The girl behind the pop star?"

"I can be both…" She fixed her hair slightly and sighed.

"I don't know about you, but you better be careful, baby. I could get used to this." He chuckled and turned to face her, running a hand through her hair. She let her face rest in his giant palm and before either of them could think, they both leaned in, their lips touching at last. It was the perfect kiss, tender with purpose and meaning. Stan cupped her small face into his hand and ran his thumb along her ear. After what felt like an eternity of bliss, they pulled apart and looked at one another. Neither of them would admit it, but this was the first time in either of their lives that they felt they had been truly seen by someone else.

"Well, I could get used to that." Eliza said smiling. She was about to lean in for another kiss when she purposefully missed his mouth and whispered something in his ear instead. "Shakes first, kissing later." Stan shivered at her voice in his ear.

"You're making this so hard." He teased. Eliza looked down at his pants and then back up at him with a raised eyebrow and a smug look.

"No… just you." She bopped his nose and took his arm, leading him out the back door into the alleyway where he had entered from. He followed up with a loud, 'HA' and pointed a finger gun at her quick-witted remark.

"You're trouble alright…I like trouble….Maybe if you're sweet to me who knows where the night'll take us?" He escorted her down the street and into the bustling Vegas street.

"Who knows? If you buy me dinner, I might be nice to you." Stan stopped in his tracks and gave her a long knowing look. She was the one. He was done searching, but he'd never admit it to her, not till he was sure she felt the same way.

"What?" She asked, still holding his hand.

"Nothin'. Just thinking about how good that shake is gonna be when you pay for it." He chuckled and tickled her waist, bringing her back into a warm, tight embrace. They walked together, side by side, hand in hand to a greasy old diner underneath a train track that looked like the toilet water would give you sepsis, but as far as they were concerned, it was absolutely magical.

The rest of the night went off without a hitch, she laughed at all his jokes at the right time, and he listened when she told him about her dark and twisted past with American beauty pageants, her strained relationship with her mother and step father and how she planned to take over broadway one day. It was the best of times, and it was the worst of times. It was no secret both of them had had it hard the past few years trying to make it on their own, but they agreed that finding other people to sit in the shit-storm with you, made it considerably less horrible. It was the start to the beginning of a new chapter for both of them and they could feel it. It couldn't have been a more perfect night, and Stan even paid for the shakes.