#-and create a copy of it BUT JUST THE WORDS THAT STILL WORK - throw out the bad ones

[1o1percentmilk]

remember when wordle came out and every programmer and their mother was making algorithms to automate guessing it. those were good times

[sunflower-lilac42]

𝟲𝟬𝟯 ; 𝘭𝘩43 ୨୧

➪ summary: luke's main goal is to make sure y/n is taken care of, however it's hard for him to do it 603 miles away

➪ warnings: reader overworks herself, school, stress

➪ word count: 2.5k

➪ file type: fic - reupload

➪ sunny's notes: i’ve been in a like mood so i decided to get this one out tonight!! ill post a connor blurb tomorrow morning/afternoon and a nico fic tomorrow. more of a schedule release tomorrow probably for the next two weeks

© sunflower-lilac42 ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

lh43 masterlist || nhl masterlist || new taglist || navigation

She expected this to happen, the pounding in her head, the 20 tabs open on her computer, the dozens of resource articles and research strewn about in her room, the five packets of review guides sitting in a stack on her desk, the half drank cup of coffee, and the tears springing in her eyes. The white noise coming from her earbuds was starting to bother her causing her to rip them out of her ears and throw them somewhere where she probably wouldn’t be able to find them again.

She could hear voices in the living room, just outside her closed bedroom door. They were laughing about something, what it was she had no idea. Her three roommates all had presentations tomorrow and that was it, no more studying, no more writing, they were done. She, however, still had three papers to write and two exams to take. She had regretted her decision to take this many classes this semester but she was preparing herself for her future.

She had gone to stand up, feeling dizzy immediately as her feet planted flat on the floor. She held a hand to the wall, bracing herself from toppling over. She blinked a few times, trying to clear the blurry sight of tears, dehydration, and lack of nutrition. She knew people would be worried about her if they were to see her like this, her hair matted and pulled into a bun as best as she could, and mascara dried on her face that highlighted the dark circles and bags under her eyes. She was wearing Luke’s sweatshirt, the Devils logo plastered over it in the center, mocking her, reminding her that her boyfriend was 603 miles away from her.

At the thought, she allowed herself to tear up more, letting tear after tear fall. There wasn’t much she could do, he was in the middle of a game right now. When she realized he had a game, she turned it on and watched with a soft smile whenever he would show up on the TV. Despite knowing the fact that he would not answer his phone, she called him, hoping to just hear his voice through his voicemail. 

When his voice reached her ears, she could feel some of the tension release from her body. However, the feeling was short-lived as the beep from the end of his voicemail was heard. She didn’t leave a message, she just hung up and watched the remainder of the second period. When the horn blarred in the arena and through the tv speakers, she shut off the screen and returned to work, making her head hurt more. 

She didn’t notice the multiple attempts Luke had made to call her, her phone having died 20 minutes prior when she was writing her essay. Her headphones laid atop her earbuds, trying to create a total noise blocker from her apartment’s noises. She had been ripping off post-it notes after post-it notes, scrambling to write down as many ideas as her brain could process. 

Meanwhile, Luke had been minorly, no majorly, freaking out. She would never call him if he was at a game, not even if it was super important. He could feel himself start to sweat again as he rushed to put his suit jacket on, wiggling his feet into his shoes. He had gone home by himself, not feeling the need to celebrate when his girl could be suffocating 603 miles away from him. 

Ever since they’ve known each other, Luke has known about y/n’s tendencies to throw herself into her school work. He remembers the first time he saw her during exam season. It was the end of their freshman fall term, they had been dating for four months at the time. They had just gotten back from their games in Ohio, he was exhausted from the trip and their 6-1 loss following their win the previous day. All he had wanted to do was go over to her dorm and lay in bed with her. 

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

He knocked on the door, waiting for an answer but nothing came. He felt saddened and knocked again. He received the same answer, none. He turned around and slid down the wood door, hitting the ground with a thud. He put his hands on his head as he waited, kicking his bag to the side. It was only then he heard the footsteps come rushing down the hallway and looked up to see her. She had her backpack that looked as if it weighed 10 pounds, she was clutching five books in her arms and a coffee cup rested on top of them. She had been mumbling when she noticed him and her eyes lit up, “Hi!”

“Hi pretty girl, whatcha doing?”

“Studying.”

He looked at the way her eyes were hidden by the circles underneath them and frowned. He reached out to grab the books from her grasp and she gratefully accepted the offer, going straight to dig the keys out of her bag, “How were the games? Did you guys win?”

He felt heartbroken and confused, she always watched his games when they went away. She would always be the one to point out his goal or an assist that he got, sometimes she even pointed out if Dylan, Mackie, Ethan, or even Owen got a goal. He watched as she pushed the door open, removing her hand from her side to run it through her hair, “You didn’t watch?”

She turned to him, dropping her bag on the ground and reaching out for her books, “No, I was studying. Sorry, Lu.”

Studying? At that time? He did nothing but let her take the books, watching as she started to clean up her dorm. It was only then that he had noticed the state her dorm was in. There were empty boxes scattering the floor, paper plates and bowls on any surface possible, and some of her clothes were mixed in with her roommate’s, it was a mess, to say the least. He made no effort to say anything about it, though. 

She cleaned as much as she could in a matter of five minutes, looking at him with a small smile on her face, “I’m sorry I didn’t watch. I was going to watch the highlights when I got back tonight.”

“Back from?”

“Library. I think I’m starting to become a regular for everyone who works there.”

The thought of her being a regular was somewhat concerning to him, “How often have you been going?”

His voice was a mixture of stern and worried, his eyes somewhat squinted in a glare. She looked as if she had committed a crime at the tone of his voice, “Every day… from the time class was over until they closed.”

His eyes widened, “Jesus y/n.”

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to study. I need to do well.”

“I understand that but you can’t work yourself to the brink of death.” He grabbed the coffee out of her hand and emptied it into the sink, getting rid of the cup afterward.

She whined at the motion, watching him in horror as if he just hit a bird with his car. He walked back over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders, “Tomorrow you are not going to touch a single book, I won’t even let you touch your computer.”

“But-”

“Nuh-uh, nope. No computer, no books, no papers, no anything school-related. We are going to stay in your bed and watch movies all day and eat properly.”

“I eat properly!” She exclaimed in offense.

He gave her a look that said all the different, “Sure. Now I can only hope you still have some of my clothes here somewhere because I do not want to talk to my dorm right now.”

She pointed in embarrassment to one of her drawers, “In there.”

He kissed her forehead and grabbed the clothes before heading for the bathroom, “I’ll be back and I better not see you do any work when I get back.”

She nodded but as soon as he left she ran to her backpack and grabbed her computer. She rushed to finish the last two paragraphs of her essay before he got back but luck was not on her side as she was halfway through her last paragraph and the doorknob turned. She had been so focused on writing that she didn’t care that he entered, “Just let me finish my last paragraph.”

He sighed, dropping his clothes into her laundry basket. He walked back to her bed and looked at her, “Last paragraph?”

“Mhm.” She nodded and scooted over so Luke could sit next to her, “Fine. I don’t want you to lose your train of thought.”

She beamed up at him and kissed his cheek before returning to her work.

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

Ever since then, he had been careful with how much he left her alone in exam season. He always called on road trips, always went to the library with her to make sure she didn’t overwork herself, always made sure she was eating properly, and always made sure that she was okay. But now being 603 miles it was hard to do that for her. 

Luke was packing a bag as fast as he could, looking at his laptop for the earliest flight out of there which wasn’t until early the next morning, leaving at 7 and not arriving until 9. Then he would have to wait to get a car and do a 30-minute drive to Ann Arbor. He groaned at the time and went to throw something, at that point he could drive there and be there before getting a plane but he was in no state to drive. 

He continued to try and call her for 30 minutes, on the brink of giving up at that point. Her phone was still dead and she had yet to realize it. She had music playing through her earbuds attached to her computer, typing about something that she considered stupid and unnecessary. She only took breaks to take a sip of coffee or to groan and throw her head back in exhaustion and frustration. 

Luke threw his phone on the bed, running his hands down his face, falling asleep not even five minutes later. Y/n was the same way, she closed her laptop as she finished her last sentence, finally allowing herself to take a break. She got up to go make a burrito in the kitchen, waving to her friends who were also still awake at the time. 

She went to turn her phone on and that was when she realized the lack of battery it had. She shrugged it off and put it down on her nightstand before walking back out to eat and finish watching the movie with her roommates.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

She didn’t go to bed until almost three in the morning despite finishing the movie four hours ago. Once they finished, she looked at the piles of paper and study guides she still had to do and sighed. Deciding that her first class wasn’t until noon, she could easily get done with one or two study guides or an essay in three. 

She curled up on her bed when she was done and wrapped the blankets around her tightly. When she woke up and went to look at her phone and saw a tweet from Amanda from an hour ago, “Luke is not at morning practice due to personal reasons. Should expect him back for Saturday’s game in Columbus.”

She immediately woke up at the fact, looking back at her other notifications. There must’ve been at least a dozen missed calls from Luke and 15 text messages. She could only think about the worst, if he had gotten hurt but just didn’t want to tell someone, if he had been so drunk that he couldn’t think straight, if he had a panic attack last night. Her thoughts raced but halted when there was a knock on the door.

She went out to the living room, still clad in her sweats from the previous night. Her friends must’ve either already left or were still sleeping. She walked to the door, peeking through the peephole and gasping. She all but ripped the door open, “Lukey?”

He smiled when he saw her, immediately feeling better. Her eyes were still the same from the first time he had experienced her like this and he knew there would probably be a coffee pot brewing in the next few minutes, but he was here now and that was a wave of relief, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering my calls and I know you were studying last night so you probably wouldn’t have answered them anyway. But when I saw you called during the game I got worried because you never call. And I just wanted to make sure you were okay and that you weren’t overworking yourself but I can tell that you are.”

She frowned at his words but also felt butterflies in her stomach at the thought of him flying out just because he wanted to ensure she was okay. She stepped aside to let him in and then led him to her bedroom. It was cleaner than what he had witnessed in the past years.

“You can’t just fly out every time you think I’m overworking myself, Luke.”

“I know but I wasn’t thinking. I was worried, really worried.” He held her hand, playing with her fingers as a form of comfort, “How long were you up to last night?”

She hesitated before responding, “3…”

He only sighed and tugged her closer to the bed so they could lay down, “Luke I have class in two hours.”

“I know but just for a little bit, and then I’ll take you to class.”

“You still know you’re way around campus?”

“Did I ever know my way around campus?”

She shook her head and laughed, “No.”

He smiled at her laugh, “You do realize I’m only going to be allowing you to rest while I’m here right?”

“But I have one more essay to finish.”

He glared at her, “Fine, but after that, you are going to be right here, in my arms, and not thinking about school at all.”

“Deal.”He kissed her before allowing her to get up and get ready for class. They both walked on campus to her class with the same thought, grateful that Luke had come to see her. Even with being 603 miles away from each other, they would do anything to be there for one another.

𝗡𝗘𝗪 𝗝𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗘𝗬 𝗗𝗘𝗩𝗜𝗟𝗦 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ୨୧

@blakesbearsblog @toasttt11 @chiblackhawks @prettyjoseph @nicole01-23 @auriesphantom @pucks-goals-penalties @dancerbailey3 @quinnylouhughesx43

© sunflower-lilac42 ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

[circe69]

𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐓𝐇 (FEM!READER X SIMON RILEY)

wc: 1.7 - genre: suggestive fluff - narrative: you get snowed in with ghost and a none-working heater. GASP. whatever shall you do to stay warm? muahahah. - warnings: makeout at the end, again, suggestive, other than that nothing.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

"Ghost, Ghost do you copy? Over."

A male's voice booms through your partner's radio, cutting through the loud silence of the blizzard blowing your ears out.

Ghost pressed down on a button after muttering not-so-quiet curses, "Yeah, copy, out." His voice was angry, like it always was, probably upset at the fact that he was stuck with one of the newest trainees, a woman who knew how to shoot but not necessarily where to aim.

"Y/N, you coming?" He demanded over his shoulder. "Yeah, right behind you Lieutenant."

You were slightly terrified, Ghost was the one you didn't want to be stuck with ever, especially stuck with in a snowstorm. The two of you trekked up a giant hill and awaited Captain Price's further instructions, if the signal would even allow.

"Good. There's a safe house up over the hill. It's a log cabin, not in perfect condition by any means, but it'll keep you warm. Over." Price's voice came through staticky, barely comprehensive, but Ghost understood every word.

He sighed, "Roger that." He stayed quiet for a while before asking you, without even turning around, "You hear all that?" You had to swallow to moisten your dry throat before speaking up. "Yes sir." Snow was stuck in your boots, making you yearn for any sort of warm comfort. The weather was unpredictable, meaning neither of you were prepared to be snowed on. You prayed the cabin had hot water and a large supply of soft blankets.

As you neared the house, it was almost pretty. Despite the water damage and evasive vines covering the sides, the snow almost made it seem fairytale-like, from a movie or something. Ghost shook the snow off his boots on the last step and you did the same, trying to act like you knew what you were doing, but you ended up stubbing your toe and silently groaning under your breath.

Entering the cabin, it wasn't any warmer than it was outside. You started to interject but Ghost stopped you mid-sentence, "Don't get your panties in a twist, I need to turn on the AC."

Your jaw still agape at his comment, you watched him throw off his backpack and gear on the nearest couch and storm back outside. While he hopefully fixed the air conditioning, you took it upon yourself to check the place, opening and closing doors, cabinets, turning on the water and smiling at how hot it was. Opening a closet close to the kitchen, you found it to be stocked with pillows and fuzzy duvets, quilts, and towels. You'd never been so excited to see sheets.

Ghost opened the screen door and slammed it, maybe he thought it was easier than just getting your attention by saying your name, "Bad news."

Oh great. "What?"

He sighed before continuing, "AC won't work. Stupid Price must be having himself a ball back at headquarters, laughing with Soap about how bloody freezing we'll be." His sentences turned into mumbles as he walked over to the kitchen sink and turned on the water. He almost groaned at the feeling, and you felt your cheeks flush at the sound.

You said nothing in response but looked back to the closet and chose which blanket, or blankets, you'd wrap around yourself. You reached up to grab a quilt from the top shelf, but when you pulled on it, maybe 5 more came down with it. A few fast footsteps came up behind you, and you felt a presence behind you as they fell on top of you.

You screamed in surprise and turned around to see Ghost was standing with his arms up, trying to support the 20 pounds in blankets. It looked like maybe he tried to catch them, but it didn't work.

Ghost had essentially created a giant tent for you. His body towered over you, and his arms outstretched almost reached the ceiling. You started to belly laugh at the circumstances, but you quieted down when Ghost stayed frustratingly quiet. "What're you laughing about? It's not funny." His statement just made you laugh more, now you were clenching your stomach and bent over, laughing your head off. Ghost's accent was always increasingly stronger when he was angry. You absolutely loved it.

He almost started to smile; you swear you saw it, but before you got a glimpse of his teeth, he got out from under the blankets and left you alone, the weight almost knocking you to the floor. You heard a snicker as he left.

"I'm gonna take a shower, Y/N, feel free to do whatever." You hummed in response, exhausted from folding and putting the blankets back up on the top shelf.

As you heard the water run, you couldn't help but let your mind wander. Sure, I mean, this wasn't the best circumstance you could be in, but maybe Ghost wasn't as awful as you thought. He was definitely attractive and had a sense of humor that he just didn't know how to use, but it was perfect. As you almost smiled to yourself just thinking about it, you heard a banging on the wall, coming from the shower. You jumped in your seat at the noise, and didn't even stand up before you heard Ghost yell, "Hey, get me a towel would ya?" Goodness, he was loud. You could visibly see birds fly away at his screaming.

"Yeah, yeah!" You yelled back, returning to the closet and prepared yourself to open it. Grabbing a white, scratchy towel, you closed the door and made your way to the bathroom, you had to walk through a bedroom to get there. Stepping over Ghost's clothes made your breath accelerate, he'd just left them scattered across the floor.

You knocked on the bathroom door, "Come in," was the only response you got. It was gruff, demanding. You'd be scared not to. Steam poured out as you opened the door, not sure where to look and where not to.

"Here," you said quietly, your brain feeling fuzzy at the thought of Ghost in the shower. You saw his arm outstretch from behind the curtain, wet fingers ready to grip the towel. You stared at them for a minute before his hand flexed, signaling you to give it to him. After handing him the towel, "Thanks," was all he said.

You didn't know what to say, so you stumbled on your words as you spoke, "Is the water hot at least?"

Ghost laughed deeply, making your stomach churn, "Smoking." You chuckled awkwardly before bolting out of the bathroom, unable to make any more small talk that close to his naked body. How could anyone?

You heard the water turn off and climbed under your covers on the rickety couch, if Ghost were to come out, you'd pretend you were asleep and had been for a while. You could hear his bare feet pad across the hardwood floor, his clothes being slid on and all the yawns and quiet groans escaping his mouth.

He opened the bedroom door and your eyes slammed shut. "Oi."

You said nothing, but you could sense him getting closer to the couch. "I know you're not asleep, there's no way anyone could on that thing."

One eye blinked open to find Ghost's face hovering over yours from behind the couch. His wet hair dripped onto your face, and he hesitatingly wiped it off with his fingers. "Sorry 'bout that," he whispered.

"S' fine," you whispered back, shamelessly staring at every part of his face.

"Let me sleep here. You already complain about your back all the time. Don't need anymore."

You rolled your eyes and closed them again before turning over on your pillow, your back now facing him. "No way, I was here first."

He scoffed, "Unbelievable. I'm trying to be a gentleman."

Ghost started to walk away before you rolled your eyes once more and jumped up from the couch, making a run for the bedroom with a pillow under your arm. "What the-," Ghost said as you ran past him. You jumped on the bed and immediately sighed when you pulled the covers up, "It's freezing, it'd be stupid not take advantage of human warmth. It's like, the only thing we're good for."

Ghost cocked an eyebrow and slowly walked to the other side of the bed with his arms crossed over his huge chest. "The only thing, huh?" He got underneath the covers carefully after shutting the last lamp off, and you shivered as his skin brushed against yours.

"Ghost, you're freezing!" Your teeth chattered for dramatic effect, and he placed a hand on the back of your neck just to make you squeal. You did just that, giggling and trying to peel his freezing hand away but it was no use; he plastered his other hand on the other side of your head to hold himself up as his hand warmed up from your skin.

"I guess you're right, warmth is the only thing you got going f' ya, isn't it?" He teased, and you slapped his arm. "How dare you." You whispered.

His arm rested on your bare waist, even though it took a long time for it to get there. Ghost was never good with women, touch, admiration of any kind, but he'd be willing to embarrass himself for you. You squirmed slightly at the feeling, but allowed yourself to scooch closer to him, taking his touch as words in and of itself. Come closer. Touch me back.

Your hand slowly made its way up his bicep, squeezing every so often at the muscle. His eyes were low and hooded as they watched you watch him, feel him. Once you looked up at him, your arms now wrapped around his neck, you could feel his breath on your mouth; that's how close your faces were. You watched his lips, open and close, his tongue licked his bottom one, and that was all you needed.

You took ahold of him, putting your lips on his. It was slow at first, careful, gentle. Until your hands drifted up his neck and into his hair, tugging lightly, and it elicited a soft groan from him. You opened your mouth, and Ghost followed after you. Now he was greedy, hungry, starving. His tongue swept across your lips first before making contact with your own tongue. You broke from the kiss, slightly panting and lips swollen. You suddenly realized how hot it had gotten, and so had Ghost.

"See? Human warmth." You said into Ghost's neck after burying yourself into him. You felt his jaw flex, most likely from a smirk, and he pulled the covers up over both of you. "Whatever."

[simpingforheros]

Gifted With Love~

Pairing: Jason Todd X Female! Reader

Summary: When a close friend of the Titans turns 21 years old, Dick decides to leave a special present for her.

Warnings: CROPPED TOP JASON wrapped with a bow~💕, Smutty implications, technically kidnapping, bondage, and awkward love confessions.

Author’s Note: Hello, it’s me. I have a pile of toxic Jason fanfics until @jjenthusee blessed me by tagging me in this work of art, so I had to write about it. I didn’t write smut this time because I didn’t know how they would feel about it but let me know if this is good.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Everyone has their own definition of a perfect birthday.

For some it’s traveling off to exciting vacations to tropical getaways, or spoiling themselves with luxurious dinners with loved ones. Others may even throw a larger than life birthday bash.

Those would be what Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson’s definition of a perfect birthday event instead of the horrifying words his beloved friend just spoke to him.

“I don’t really need anything.” The woman says nonchalantly as she finishes filing her field mission report. Her eyes to focused on the monitors to notice Dick frowning.

This weekend was (Y/N)’s birthday, and for the 7th year in a row, the young hero tells him the same thing she always asked for her birthday, Nothing.

“Not even a small get-together with us?” Dick whines as he tries to lean against her desk to get her attention. “It’s not everyday someone turns 21 years old. I’ll even buy you your first legal drink!”

Her chuckles fills the awkwardness in her body as she shakes her head. “Nah, I rather be spend the night alone with Frank.”

Dick practically couldn’t hold his head up after the massive eye roll he gave her at the mention of the stupid cat. He still hadn’t forgiven it for scratching up his favorite costume.

“There has to be something that’ll get you to change your mind…” As his incessant whining gets interrupted by a pinging on her computer.

*Transmission From Red Hood incoming*

A fluttering look of softness passed through her eyes before she accepts the transmission eagerly.

“Titan’s Tower to Red Hood, do you copy?” Her voice professional as she was still clicking on the keyboard.

“Hey, Princess,” Jason purrs out causally causing a small smile to appear on her face. “I got some leads on that case you were looking into. Apparently some of the goons on Black Mask’s gang used to know where some Brother Blood bases are. I’m sending you the details right now along with our wedding planning info.”

(Y/N) rolls her eyes at his joke at the end, but giggles as the familiar warm feeling floods her face. “Okay, Big Guy, I’ll take a look and send you flower arrangements.” She jokes.

Jason’s chuckle causes her smile to widen as they end their call. The reality of her surroundings kick in as her eyes meet Dick’s all knowing smirk, much to her misery.

(Y/N) joined the Teen Titans when she was 14 and fresh out of the hell that created her origin story. She took some time to get comfortable with everyone, but her favorite people have always been Dick and Jason. Her and Dick had a strong sibling bond while her and Jason just had a strong friendship. That may have formed into an unrequited, unlabeled flirtatious situation ship that the pair have been dancing around since Jason returned as the Red Hood.

“I-!” Before Dick could begin with his interrogation, the hero jumps from her seat as she mumbles.

“Well, I better go investigate these leads before the trail gets cold. See ya, Nightwing!” She chirps as she flees from him.

A wicked smirk appears on his face as he realizes what would make this birthday perfect.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

(Y/N) sighs as she finishes walking up her fifth flight of stairs with her arms filled with her birthday takeout.

Her civilian job practically wore her down mentally and physically this week with impending deadlines and mounting additions to her workload. Her Hero life has been surprisingly quiet other than the occasional teasing remark from Dick whenever Jason was brought up in conversation. Thank God Jason wasn’t a Titan.

As she unlocks the door after maneuvering for a moment, she coos out for her beloved elderly cat with a

“Frankie~, mama’s home with our favorite take out.” She says as she places the stuff on the counter. Her eyebrows frown together once she sees that all the lights in her home were on despite her remembering to turning them off.

“Frank?” She calls out to her cat as she realizes he has trotted into the room with a cry. She walks around the counter as she finally looks to the floor to find….a ribbon??

A soft baby pink ribbon was placed on the floor of her apartment. Her eyes followed one direction towards her dining table to see an extravagant display on the table. A heart shaped birthday cake stood proudly with a bunch of little gift bags. The offending ribbon stood out proudly on top of a bottle of whiskey that she suspiciously knows is Jason’s favorite.

“Did Jason do this?” She asked herself as she picks up the bottle. A glittery pink care taped to the front causes immediate doubt to her mind as she opens the card.

HAPPY 21st BIRTHDAY, (Y/N)

FOLLOW THE RIBBON AND FIND YOUR GIFT WRAPPED WITH LOVE FROM ME!

YOUR FAVORITE TITAN

-DICKIE :)

p.s. I took Frank to my apartment so you can enjoy your ‘gift’ <3 ;)

“So that’s where my cat is…” She says with a giggle. As much as she hated that Dick broke in to do all this, she was honestly expecting something worst. At least she can recognize that some of the gifts were from other titans and friends. She quickly sees a familiar brown wrapping paper with a flower pressed into the fold of it.

A bright smile presses into her face as she picks up the gift knowing it was probably a book that Jason picked out for her.

The other gifts can wait a little bit.

Picking up the whiskey and her book, she begins to walk to her bedroom where she notices that the ribbon leads to her destination. Her exhausted sigh fills the air as she begins to wonder what mess Dick left in her sanctuary.

Glitter bomb? Nah she hates that she already had to clean up the glitter he already left. A huge ass bear? Nope, she’s too old for that, but doesn’t put it past him to do that.

As she got closer to the door, a creak can be heard along with a sound of a struggle. Her eye brow quirks as she opens the door not expecting what she finds.

There in the middle of her bedroom was Jason. Tied to a chair with rope and pink ribbons. In his Red Hood costume or what was supposed to be. The glaring difference was the now cropped combat shirt and his cargo pants unzipped with a red ribbon acting as the belt holding his pants together. His holsters were empty and fastened tightly to emphasize the bulging muscles of his thighs. There was three more bows on him that almost made her fragile state break.

One red ribbon wrapped around each bicep, practically struggling against his flexing muscles. And the other was a thick pink ribbon that was loosely tied around his neck and led directly to the ribbon that brought her here.

Her moment of shock finally breaks when Jason whistles at her to get her attention.

“Princess, I need some help here.” He groans as he struggles against his binds. Her body immediately goes into motion as she sets the bottle and gifts to the ground to help him.

“Jay, what happened?” She asks as she helps him out of the chair after undoing the rope. Her eyes almost bulged out of her skull when the fabric of his cargo pants falls a little to tease the tempting V shaped Adonis belt hidden only by the will of the ribbon.

“Dick invited me over to discuss an idea for a birthday party and then Him and Roy ganged up on me and I ended up here.” He explains vaguely as he stretches his sore muscles.

The movement and winding of his muscles under the the altered costume made warmth fill her chest. His combat shirt was now cropped just below his pectoral muscles, showing off his abs. The ribbon on his left arm pops as he stretches his arm back which causes her to come back to earth again.

“I-I��m so sorry.” (Y/N) apologizes as she sits on the bed to sooth her beating heart. “Dick has been bothering me about what I wanted for my birthday and he wouldn’t take no for an answer…”

“So why did he think I would be a good present?” He says as he removes his mask and shows her the smirk on his face.

Shock filled her face as she looks up at him. His broad shoulders filled her vision as he now stands between her legs. The smell of his cologne filled her senses as he reaches over the bed to grab the wrapped present from where it laid. He places it in her hands as his other hand moves to push the hair out of her face.

With a soft peck on her forehead, he whispers,

“Happy Birthday. Time to open your present.”

Her trembling hands moved to open the present as he steps back to give her room, the whiskey bottle now in his hand. As the paper falls to the floor, her eyes soften as she sees what he given her.

A well worn copy of a Jane Austen book. His favorite book. The pages had color coded tabs that she can recall him placing them during their many missions or hangouts.

The table of contents in the front of the book made her heart skip a beat as Jason watches her through the lip of the bottle.

Yellow tabs - moments that remind me of her

Blue tabs - the same feelings I have while looking at her.

Purple tabs - Funny things I think she would like

Green tabs - moments I wanna recreate with her

Pink tabs- How I feel about (Y/N)

Her hands move to open the book to the one singular pink tab she can see through the sea of colored tabs. Her tears filled her vision as she reads the words colored in pink highlighter.

“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

“Oh Jay…” She mutters as she looks up at him with a softened gaze, the hints of desire flickering in her eyes as she watches him return it.

“I would have given you a gift card, but i figured that would be too much.” Jason jokes as he finishes a shot of burning whiskey. A tug around his neck brings his eyes down the offending ribboned leash to her foot.

The tangled appendage tugs him to her. He follows her to her arms as she coils him into her embrace as she presses a kiss to his lips. The burning of the whiskey subsiding to sweetness of her lips before she pulls away just a breath from his own.

“I think it was perfect.” She whispers. “But…”

Jason gasps as she gently runs her finger tips down his exposed abdomen and down to the red ribbon holding his pants together. He clicked his tongue to his teeth as he asked,

“Aren’t you suppose to blow out your candle before you open presents?” He teases as his hand cups her face while the other grips her hip. Her smirk almost causes him to moan as the feeling of silk rubbing against his skin distracts him from the feeling of the heavy cargo pants felling slacked against his hips.

“I thought it was my birthday, Jason…” she teases back as she pulls him to her by his jacket. “And I wanna unwrap all my presents…”

+++++++++++++++++++

“YOU LITTLE BASTARD!” Dick curses as he tries to get his domino mask away from the tabby. The trained vigilante was no match to Frank as he dives under the heavy oak bed.

Dick tries to reach under the bed to catch the culprit who destroyed another one of his suits as his phone pings. To his annoyance, he calls over his shoulder.

“Kori! Can you help me get this stupid cat? And see who texted me?

“Coming!” The alien princess sings as she smiles at the message on her before it doubles as she see the message on Dick’s phone as well.

To: Dick

From: (Y/N) the Terror >:D

Thx for my birthday gifts. Do you mind keeping Frank until tomorrow? I got some plans today and I would appreciate it. Thank you!!

To: Kori

From: Red

Plan worked! Me and her are going on a late birthday date after last night. Thanks for making Dick think it was his idea.

++++++++++++++++++++

I hope you guys liked it and let me know if I should make a smut version of this one. Thanks again to @jjenthusee for the inspiration and I hope you enjoyed it.

+++++++++++++++++++++

@simpingforheros Fanfic. I DO NOT WISH FOR ANY OF MY WORKS TO BE COPIED, STOLEN, OR REPOSTED ON OTHER ACCOUNTS OR WEBSITES WITHOUT CREDIT OR PERMISSION

[abbyromanoff]

Can I request Natasha Romanoff X reader. "The last of us " AU . Angst and maybe some smut if you feel like it ?

THE LAST OF ME AND YOU

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader, Wanda Maximoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 1,959

WARNINGS: smut, strap on use, reader is a mom, depression, angst, break ups, death, tlou au (I’ve never played the game so bare with me), killing, praise, arguments, abandonment, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Nat continued her harsh thrusts into your tight hole as her hot breath landed on your face. The strap she wore abused your cunt in the most delicious way possible and had you chasing for more.

Your head was thrown back, allowing your girlfriend to mark your neck. Your hand went to the back of her neck, pulling her further in while scratching her scalp.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” You nodded, struggling to speak as all that left you were broken sobs and choked-out moans. Your legs wrapped around her waist and your free hand went to her back, creating red lines with your nails.

“Please- I’m gonna-” Your legs were shaking as her pace slightly faltered, the pain causing her to hiss out mumbled word. She permitted you to let go, your cunt clenching around her as your juices covered her cock.

“Just like that- oh, you’re doing so good, such a good girl.” Her praises made a small smile plaster across your face and a breathless ‘thank you’ escaping your lips.

She soon pulled out of you slowly, trying to withhold any pain that could be a result. You whimpered out a few disagreements but let her continue.

“It’s alright, you’re okay.” She tossed the toy to the side and wrapped her arms around your figure, inhaling your scent that brought her comfort.

“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” She hummed, afraid to give you a response and see your reaction. You noticed this and pulled her head away from you, giving her a soft squeeze to her hand and a kiss to her forehead, trying to ease her into talking.

“I’ve been thinking about some things,” You gave her a slow nod to show you were ready for her to speak once more. She sighed, gulping down her fears with a shake of her head.

“No, it’s stupid.” She tried to stand, only to be pulled back down by your grasp.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?” You patted the spot next to you and let her take a seat, cuddling into her waist as you stared up at her.

“She deserves to be avenged.” Her sister, one of the only people she had left, was killed only last year. It was devastating, she was barely able to recover. You and your child were the only things that helped, and even then it would never solve the pain she felt.

“Nat, we talked about this.” She had mentioned it before and was quickly shut down by you. You knew it wasn’t exactly fair, but you deserved to be selfish just this once. You couldn’t lose her, neither you nor Gabriel, your son, would be able to handle that. He had the right to grow up with both parents in his life, not just one.

Natasha wasn’t his biological mother, his father died shortly after you found out about your pregnancy. But she stepped up, and she earned that spot as his mother and caregiver. She loved him like he was her own because, in her eyes, he was.

“But I need to do this, Y/N, why can’t you understand that?” You sat up, throwing the blankets over your bare body and grabbing the clothes that you were previously wearing. She followed you as you voyaged into your son’s room, standing in front of his crib and gently picking him up.

“Hi, handsome, did you enjoy your little nap?” You spoke to the young child in hand, chuckling as his small hands tried to grasp onto you.

“Don’t ignore me, Y/N.” You blinked away tears and sat on the near chair to pull down your shirt, letting your son suckle on your breasts. He was still so young at only twelve months, if she disappeared, he wouldn’t even remember her.

“I’m not discussing this anymore with you.” She walked out of the door, leaving you and Gabriel alone in the lowly lit room.

“Don’t worry, Gabe, momma isn’t going anywhere.” He didn’t seem to understand and you wished it would stay this way forever. You didn’t want him to age, he was so perfect like this. But you wouldn’t know how to handle him on your own in the dangers of this world. Neither of you were safe, but Nat made a promise to always protect the both of you or die trying. And she always had, you were beyond grateful for all she had done.

The next morning came quicker than expected and you ventured into the kitchen to make breakfast for the three of you. You went outside to grab one of the tomatoes from your garden and returned to your spot, cutting the fruit into circles and placing it on top of the eggs for more flavor.

The plates were placed on the table as you went into your son’s room to find him awake and smiling as usual, he was always a happy boy.

“C’mon, it’s time to eat, kiddo.” When you walked into the kitchen you found Nat standing there with bags next to her legs. You shuddered, stalling for a moment before placing the young child into his high chair. You took the spot next to him and let him drink from the bottle Nat was able to make.

“I assume you’re leaving.” Her lack of response was all you needed. You turned to face her, the tears hidden in your eyes nearly escaping against your will. She held onto the handles of the bags that held her weapons and a small amount of her nutrition. She tried stepping towards you, only to be stopped in her tracks when you backed away.

“I promise I’ll be back for you two, I’m not giving up on us.” She reached for your cheek and you let her, interlacing your hand with her own as she kissed the back of it.

“I love you so much, angel.” She then turned to your son who seemed to be clueless to the whole ordeal. “And I love you so much, my baby boy.” When she tried meeting your eyes you looked away, wiping your nose that had become sniffly. She picked up her bags once again and slowly turned to the door, every creak from the floorboards making her miss you even more.

“If you walk out those doors, that will be the last time you see your family.” You two were the only real family she had left, everybody else had passed on and left her alone. She considered joining them at one point in her life, but she couldn’t do that to you both. Yet, she was still able to leave you both.

“Yelena didn’t deserve this, and I’m going to bring her the goodbye she deserved.” She wasn’t able to look at you, it would only break her more.

“Killing them won’t bring her back to life, she’s gone and you can’t do anything about it. I’m sorry to say it but it’s true, there is no bringing her back.”

“I know that, but they shouldn’t be able to roam the Earth when she no longer can because of them.” You knew there was no convincing her to stay, there never was. But you were hoping she’d realize the cost even if she didn’t seem to care about anything other than the blonde.

“Goodbye, my loves.” She knew deep down that it would most likely be the last words she ever spoke to you, you were always one to keep a promise. And you did, later that week you packed up everything you had and left with little to no destination in mind. All you knew were that a group of travelers came by often, you had even made small conversation with one of them. Most gangs were ones to fear, but not them. The woman welcomed you with open arms, even greeting the baby that was secured in your hold.

“My name’s Wanda, Wanda Maximoff.” The rest of her group was almost as kind as her, and you couldn’t help but thank all gods that she came into your life. If she didn’t, you wouldn’t be alive and neither would your son.

You told her about Nat, how she left you like it was nothing. Seeing you look and sound so hopeless caused her to sob later that night while she slept beside you. There were no terms shared between either of you, but she was so unbelievably in love with you after only a few months of knowing you. You didn’t know where you stood, you still held a deep love for your past lover, but you knew you’d never see her again.

You noticed how Wanda cared for Gabriel and protected him with every bit of her. You later found out that she used to be a mom herself until the breakout traveled across the entire globe and left her as the only member of her family left. You also found out that she used to have a husband, Vision was his name. You held her close to you as she spoke, and that’s when it happened. She kissed you, and neither of you could stop the magical feeling from repeating itself. You weren’t over Natasha, and Wanda understood that. She gave you all the time you needed before you were ready. Gabriel spoke his first words while laying on top of your chest with Wanda having an arm behind your head.

When he eventually became more fluent the more you two taught him, he uttered a parental nickname to the brunette. She hadn’t felt this happy since the times she spent with her family. It caused a small ache in your heart when knowing that Nat had been teaching him how to speak as she waited for the day he’d call her his mother alongside you. But it wasn’t your fault, she was gone now and she was the one who made the decision to do so.

When the redhead returned to your home she found the place to be empty with only dust and spider webs in sight. It had taken two years but she achieved her goal, and she knew Yelena was looking down on her, but she didn’t know if it was out of shame or happiness.

You were right, no wound caused to the men who had taken her life helped soothe the pain of losing her sister and now her family. Gabriel was most likely more grown by now, and she wanted to imagine how you two were doing but it only brought a sob from deep in her chest. She fell to her knees, punching the floor as hard as she could and causing a hole to appear. That’s when she noticed something falling from the counter and landing next to her.

It was a Polaroid of you and Nat before the curse broke out. At the time you two were just friends while your boyfriend and the father of your child was still alive. There were words written on the back ‘forever my love’, she had secretly added them there when you didn’t know. At the time, she had held a longing for you that she hoped would be filled, and it eventually was but it only lasted a year. It wasn’t enough time for you to know how much she loved you and how long she had loved you.

But you were gone, yet her love for you never would be. She wanted to find you, to tell you how sorry she was, but she knew deep down you were probably better off without her. All she wanted was to avenge her sister, but now she was left completely alone with no one to mend her broken heart.

[changisworld]

since it's I.N's month, could be one where gf decides to do something "special" for him, shoving her underwear on his pocket and waiting for him on the restroom?

literally sprinted to post this JUST in time for his bday😭 HAPPY 23RD BIRTHDAY JEONGIN<3

WORD COUNT:1,874

18+, MDNI!! smut warnings under the cut

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

main masterlist here

any reblogs/ comments are deeply appreciated!!

SMUT WARNINGS; oral(M receive), public sex, marking, pet names;baby, hunny etc, quite cute tbh, public teasing, finger sucking, mentions of spit, tiniest tiniest bit of dirty talk?? aftercare(as much as you can give in a public bathroom.) creampie, SO much eye contact, bits of fluff

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

You are currently out for dinner with Jeongin, Seungmin & your friend Yuna for Jeongins birthday. (happy 23rd birthday jeongin<3). The dinner has been going really well & you’re enjoying the food you ordered & a glass of wine ordered by yuna, You’re laughing with the 3 of them when you feel jeongin put his hand on the top of your thigh & caress it, his eyes not even batting down once, still talking to Seungmin about random group activities.

You suck in a deep breath, trying to act as if the simple gesture isn’t already making you blush & heat up under his touch. You put your hand above his & hold it as you continue eating & talking but his hand moves again but this time, he’s moves his hand forward, now cupping the part of your cunt that he can reach with you sitting down. You stop chewing half way through, feeling yourself leaking in your panties. You throw a flushed look to Jeongin but he just looks back giving you the same gorgeous dimpled smile he always does. A second later, he pulls his hand away to help put his dish onto the middle of the table to help the waitress take away the plates easier.

You think for a moment before coming up with a plan.

You ‘accidentally’ drop your fork & reach down to pick it up, but at the same time you use your free hand to wiggle your panties off your legs, past your heels & you ball it up in your hand before putting the fork you dropped, onto the pile of plates.

The waitress comes & takes the dishes away a few minutes later & refills everyone’s wine & you begin looking at menus.

“Since it’s Jeongins birthday, y/n where are you gonna take him hm?” Seungmin winks, smiling over the menu hes holding. You raise your eyebrows & smile back

“It’s a surprise, lips are sealed sorry. anyways i’m gonna go to the bathroom, if i’m not back in time, order me the chocolate molten lava cake please” Yuna nods at you & Jeongin, Yuna & seungmin keep having their own conversation, in the meantime you lean over to kiss his cheek but you also put your hand in his pocket & drop the panties that have been balled up in your hand for the past 5 minutes, into his pocket.

You stand up & head to the bathroom, smiling to yourself, feeling proud. You turn the corner & head into the single woman’s bathroom stall & close the door, not locking it. You walk over to the sink & look at yourself & dab your finger on the tip of your lips, getting rid of the slightly messy lipstick from eating.

Not even two minutes later, the door opens & steps in Jeongin. You turn around so you’re leaning against the sink, facing him.

“Took ya long enough, what did you tell them?” You ask, reaching over slightly & pulling his dress tie towards you so he is now right in front of you, he smiles & starts twirling your hair on his finger while looking into your eyes.

“Some lame excuse about me saying i was gonna go find a person who could ask the chef to give me strawberry sauce instead of caramel.” He chuckles slightly before leaning down to your neck to bite it slightly, you hiss at the contact.

“And they just believed it?” You lean into his mouth & touch, already palming his cock through his dress pants, creating an obvious tent.

“Who cares if they didn’t, they wouldn’t say anything regardless, but we need to make this quick baby, don’t wanna get kicked out by getting caught now do we?” He asks you rhetorically, hand already sliding down to cup your pussy, not surprisingly already dripping, You sigh at the contact & loosen his the & undo the top three buttons so you have access to his collarbones before leaning in & sucking a mark on them, hand still working on his boner.

“You’re so wet baby, did my hand really do this to you hm? you get off on such simple touches in front of our friends hm?” you can feel him smirking against your neck as he pulls back before making eye contact with you, reaching into his pocket & pulling out your soaked panties.

“So dirty my love, couldn’t even wait until we got home hm? you wanted me in here so badly” You roll your eyes before pulling him by the tie again & kissing him again, your lipstick smudging on his face along with your own. “You’re just as dirty baby, you knew where to find me & came, into the girls bathroom too.” you say in-between kisses.

You undo his zipper & trouser button before pulling them along with his underwear just enough to set his cock free, already hard & red, leaking at the tip slightly. You stop kissing him to trail yourself down his frame until you end up on his knees & you instantly kiss his tip, making it even more red but with your lipstick staining it this time, you’re convinced his dick blushed. You look up at Jeongin whos looking down at you with nothing but love but also lust in his eyes, which makes you think you genuinely leaked onto the floor.

You take his tip into your mouth & begin twirling your tongue around it just the way he likes. Your hands reach up on instinct & start playing with his balls & he grips onto the sink to balance himself as he throws his head back, biting his lip to try hold back his whines.

“Your mouth is so f-ffucking good baby, it’s so wet holy fuck” He says, trying to keep his voice calm but just comes out high pitched & whiny. You decide to thank his compliment by hallowing your cheeks as much as you possibly can & going as deep as you can, your nose almost touches his pelvis as you begin humming & gagging around him, spit coming out your mouth & dripping onto your knees & the floor beneath you.

After another minute or so, he pulls your hair roughly off his dick, you whine at the sudden gesture.

“Sorry baby i-i was gonna cum, yo-your mouth is too good. get up on the sink plea-se” He pants out, sweat beading at his forehead & getting caught in his eyebrows. You stand up, giggling at how fucked out he was & begin to climb onto the sink but he helps you anyway.

He hikes your dress up & puts his fingers to your lips, you open your mouth instantly & you let them rest on your tongue before you coat them with spit. He pulls them back out & runs them over your already dripping cunt.

“Didn’t even need your spit baby, you’re soaked already, here, use this to keep you quiet” He hands them to you & you take this opportunity to put them in your mouth, looking up at him with shiny eyes.

“Don’t even need to prep ya’, you ready?” He asks, how pumping his wet dick in his hand slowly, waiting for your go-ahead.

You nod instantly & desperately so he breaches your cunt with the tip & you shudder & his eyebrows furrow. He slides all the way to the hilt & you throw your head back & groan into the fabric in your mouth.

Jeongin leans over you & pulls the panties out of your mouth & shoves them back in his pocket & bites your bottom lip.

“I’ll just silence your moans with my lips instead hunny” You begin to whine as you already feel your orgasm bubbling up, Jeongin knows your body like the back of his hand & knows exactly where to hit to get you to cum almost instantly.

“You’re so fucking b-big innie holy fuck, n-not gonna last” you say, eyes rolling back.

“don’t speak like that unless you don’t wanna cum before i do i mean it, you’re moulded just for my dick.. i’m sure of it.” He says back, voice breathy & whiny.

He starts kissing you as his other hand worms it’s way down to your clit & starts pressing down on it & drawing figures with it just the way you like it & before you can even warn him, you’re clenching around his dick & you cum. Your legs begin shaking & you break the kiss & you end up with your lips against his neck & you subconsciously suck a dark hickey onto it. Jeongin cums straight after seeing & feeling your orgasm & lips on his neck. His ropes of cum shoot out inside you & you feel it inside you too.

You both come down from your orgasms together, Jeongin in-between your legs, putting most of his body weight on you as you are still on top of the sink against the wall, panting heavily. You give the hickey you just gave him a gentle kiss & you reach over to grab some paper towels from the paper towel dispenser & start dabbing jeongins face from all the sweat on it & he laughs.

“I think i need a bit more than a few paper towels hunny, look at me.” You laugh, looking up at his face as he looks at himself in the mirror, face & neck completely covered in lipstick, all smudged.

“i dont even wanna know what my face must look like if yours is that covered” you say, getting off the sink with Jeongins help & you both let out another chuckle at the state of your face, lips still stained with lipstick but your cheeks are just as stained as them.

Jeongin & you both work on trying to make yourselves look presentable again but it proves a lot easier said than done. Jeongin kisses your cheek while you are still trying to get your hair to not look as if a bird lives in it.

“That’s the best it’s gonna get y/n, you have a brush in your clutch bag.” Jeongin says, holding your waist from behind & balancing his chin on you. “I wonder if dessert arrived yet, cmon we gotta go, probably a hugeee line outside the bathroom right now.” He gives you a kiss on your cheek & looks in the mirror again, sighing.

“Well we would have gave them a good audio show wouldnt we?” you chuckle to him, throwing your hair up to cover all the tugs. “alright, let’s go. hope you enjoyed this birthday present baby” You turn around & hold onto his shoulders.

“Just being with you is an amazing birthday present, why not i give you a ‘thank you’ present at home hm? by the way, i’m keeping these. for my own use.” He says, smiling at you with his dimples on his cheeks, holding your panties in his palm again.

You giggle before walking over & unlocking the door, hand in hand with Jeongin & swallowing your pride before walking back over to the table with Yuna & Seungmin… who had already finished dessert.

[garkgatiss]

{{esquivalience}}, The Auteur, and Doctor Who the TV Show

alright so this novella.

First, its provenance: I was googling the Twist at the End song last week because it's catchy as hell. I ended up on the Tardis wiki and realized that there was a song by the exact same name that appeared in a licensed DWU novella that was published April 9th. As in, last month. Which is weird. It's hard to say how weird, but given the timing, it either has to be a) pure coincidence (lol), b) someone who worked on the show abusing their advance knowledge of plot details for personal gain, or c) intentional coordination between showrunner and novella-writer, a la Joe Lidster writing John Watson’s blog for BBC Sherlock.

The likelihood of (a) is decreasing by the week. I feel like I have to entertain the idea of (b) happening, but it's hard to square why a DWU-writing supernerd who is also involved somehow with the production of the show would risk a lifetime of blackballing from DW for a bit of cheap promotion for their extended-universe tie-in novella. I am so sorry to be saying this, but I think (c) might actually have legs.

The novella's title is {{esquivalience}}, which is a fake word invented in real life by editors of the New Oxford American Dictionary. The invented word means "deliberate shirking of one's official duties", and it was added to the dictionary to protect the copyright of the electronic version. In S9, Face the Raven showed us a “trap street", i.e. a fake street drawn on a map by a mapmaker to identify any copyright infringement of said map -- a dictionary entry for a word made up by the dictionary editors operates similarly as a copy-trap. The definition is apt for a copy-trap as well, because anyone illicitly copying a dictionary is themselves shirking a job they ought to be doing themselves... it's clever, it's very fun, we're off to a great start.

{{a crash course in esquivalience below the cut}}

THE STORY:

The unnamed protagonist applies for a custodial job at this library that serves basically as a databank for the history of everything in the universe. If a book about something is thrown away, that something ceases to have ever existed. Exhibit A: Protagonist works in the Dead & Dying Language Department. They throw away The Book of Belgian Dutch, and a) a couple coworkers with Belgian Dutch heritage either disappear or get completely different names/family trees, and also b) everyone quickly forgets that Belgian Dutch was ever a thing to begin with.

The librarians cover for this accidental deletion of reality by copying/fudging a new book on "Belgian Gerench", their name for what they replace Belgian Dutch with. They try to catch most of the people who were deleted, bring them back, and fit them into that new language/culture/ethnicity bucket they just made up.

(The narration explains that because both Belgian and Dutch still exist separately as concepts, there aren't too many knock-on effects in terms of loanwords in other languages that needed to be modified/recovered. It also explains that time-traveling back to make an exact copy of The Book of Belgian Dutch wouldn't work because of the universe's copyright laws or something.)

Protag then comes after the head of their department, the Head Dictionary Contributor, or Head DC. They find him in a hidden room called the Internal Reference Room. Instead of languages, the books here hold the life stories of every employee, which auto-update as the person lives their life, but can also be edited or destroyed to alter that person's reality. Protag sits down with the Head DC's lifebook and starts adding and erasing things.

It turns out that Head DC knows how wrong editing these books can go from personal experience. Years ago, wanting to leave his mark on the universe, the Head DC chose to add his own copy-trap into The Book of Dutch -- the fake word "esquivalience". This action seemingly created the concept of cutting corners at your job, leading to the insufficient vetting of Protag for this job and therefore their subsequent hiring, which results in Head DC's eventual death.

Head DC pleads with Protag for his life, but Protag is undeterred. They finally tear out the final page in Head DC's book, which kills him. Protag then writes themselves in as Head DC. Settling into their new role, they turn their attention to The Book of English (8th to 25th Century). They first look up the dictionary entry for “esquivalience”, which says it came to English from Dutch, and then flips to the entries for “ravel" and “unravel”, described as contranyms from Dutch roots, both “meaning variably to tangle or to fray”.

This is the central story of the novella. There is also a Prelude and Postlude that describe the lives of two young men, first in a reality in which they never meet, and then in a reality in which they do meet and fall in love (their meeting is enabled by one of them skivving off work in time to make it to see the movie where they first meet -- esquivalience!)

Just before the Postlude, there is also printed the lyrics to a song (see below), and an excerpt from The Book of English, this volume covering the 4th to 5th billionth centuries of history. This excerpt again gives the definition of “unravel”, but refers the reader to an appendix for the full list of definition, and notes they are “largely in usage as reference to Unravel, The” and “N.B. to be used with extreme care and caution”.

NOVELLA-SHOW CONNECTIONS:

Mavity [Wild Blue Yonder]: Mavity happened all the way back in Wild Blue Yonder, so it's not necessarily surprising to see it in a novella published in April 9, 2024, but there's a whole scene establishing that the M has seemingly replaced the G in all Romance languages, while Domhantarraingt in Irish-Gaelic is unaffected.

Rope [The Church on Ruby Road]: We're all learning the vocabulary of rope now! The Unravel is what the novella calls the meta-historical revisions caused by making edits to the books. There are also rope/weaving metaphors everywhere. Again, the rope themes of the TV show predate the April 9 novella just far enough that in theory it would have been possible for the novella to have taken inspiration from the 2023 Christmas Special. Except. The wiki page for The Unravel credits ownership of the concept to Jamie H. Cowan, the author of the novella. Not just that, but The Unravel was used – with credit to Jamie – in a DWU short story collection published December 26, 2023 – the day after The Church on Ruby Road aired.

Dot and Bubble [Dot and Bubble] : At this point, “Dot and Bubble” is a contextless episode title to me, first announced on March 31. In the novella, we get this:

The Twist At The End [The Devil’s Chord] : Just before the novella's Postlude, there are the lyrics to a song called “The Twist At The End”. Just listed there, no context, like an azlyrics.com entry. They are not the same lyrics as the song in The Devil's Chord, but then, meta-historical revision would kind of be the point, wouldn't it? There's just this sentence to connect it to anything happening in the narration: "Somewhere, in the far distance, as ______ continued to erase, an old 1960s Earth tune began to play."

EDITED TO ADD: @corallapis has pointed out to me that not only did the existence of the song "Twist at the End" by John Smith and the Common Men leak, but the novella's author tweeted about it in December 2023.

The Chumerian languages of the planet B’llauit, for instance, needed much consideration. Particularly Krulvan. There was still a great deal of work to be done in compiling the post-technoweb aspects of Krulvan. Like how most emotional words and phrases contracted more and more, until finally, they were little more than abbreviations. The old dot-and-bubble effect.

A parent’s love was no longer expressed post-technoweb as “Kal-at lur amoi”, but instead as merely “KLA”. Which needed to be carefully distinguished in the relevant encyclopedia from another abbreviated Krulvan phrase “Kal’ati Lepr’en Acrumpsal” – which was something rather equivalent to the expletives of other languages like “D’Arvit”, or “Bleno”.

It's only a brief mention in the book, so it's possible in theory that it was added after the episode titles were released, or even after the novella’s publication (Amazon allows post-publication changes up to 10% of the text, and it’s not possible to track those changes). I’ve included the second paragraph because it’s interesting that the example they’ve given is the word for a parent’s love, which we can see as a running theme in this season of DW (though Moffat has said before that the only thing he writes about is a parent’s love, so who knows).

Not the strongest evidence of two-way coordination, but we may learn more when the episode airs.

Dutch [Space Babies, Boom]: Yeah, as in, the Dutch language. The words “spoor” & “smelt” both get a "oo, good word!" callout, spoor in Space Babies and smelt in Boom. These words both have Dutch roots. Splice, the daughter's name in Boom, is not only from a Dutch root, but also means the joining two pieces of rope. I read this novella just before Boom dropped on Disney+, so I can personally confirm that this is not a post-hoc addition to the novella. It hardly could have been anyway, this element is much more integral to the novella’s narrative than any of the other pieces.

The Auteur

This is where this all becomes relevant to the “Doctor Who is a TV Show” theory.

While the Protag is shredding the Head DC’s book, the Head DC is in the room, and what follows is an extremely meta narrative-aware pre-death monologue from the Head DC. He's pleading with Protag to stop changing things in his book, but he also refers to an "It" whose power surpasses them both.

He held eye contact with them as they looked up, “You didn’t pick up Belgian Dutch by chance. It’s how it plays. In weaving coincidences.”

“Just stop reading. Stop changing things. Stop, and we can be spared. Be free! If you keep going, then it will get what it wants. It is a happening [sic]. Out there, and in here in the basement. Everywhere. It will win if you keep going.”

“One day, you’ll make the same mistakes. Goddamn, you will. Because it’s all already written. It has already written it all. The paths, the choices. Rewrites, erasures, and even the contradictions. If you don't just... stop... it will... Unravel us all."

The "It" in question is presumably the author. Like an author writing a story, "It" plays by weaving coincidences, "It" gets what it wants when we keep reading, "It" has already written everything.

The Head DC mentions a special disposal chute, which had recently appeared as if by magic, which enabled Protag’s destruction of Belgian Dutch. Head DC’s references to this “It” suggest that his decision to create a word meaning cutting corners caused his eventual death, not by inventing the concept of cutting corners, but by creating a set-up that the Auteur, a godlike being that cares only for the rules of narrative, was compelled to write a satisfying follow-through for. The Auteur changed reality in order to weave a narratively-satisfying coincidence.

The Auteur is a character from the DW-spinoff series Faction Paradox. The creator of the Faction Paradox universe describes it as “on the surface an SF universe, but it works on the same principles as traditional folklore.”

I am but a humble Moffat scholar, so explaining the character of The Auteur is immediately getting into lore that I cannot even begin to decipher.

But it seems plausible that in the show we’re dealing with a godlike being, someone along the lines of Maestro or the Toymaker, but instead of caring only for the rules of play, cares only for the rules of narrative.

And this being, The Auteur, is altering reality and creating the narratively-satisfying coincidences in 14’s and 15’s timelines, possibly starting all the way back with the coincidence of 14 regenerating as David Tennant and immediately bumping into Donna Noble.

And it seems plausible that this season was created in cooperation with these DWU authors to whom concepts like The Auteur and The Unravel are licenced, and the novella is a tie-in text full of references to the current season to lead savvy superfans on a merry chase that foreshadows the season’s big bad.

Because I... don't really have another explanation for the existence of this novella at this point.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hello lovely!! I’m so happy you are getting more and more followers! You deserve the praise and so much more!!

I was curious how you thought the members of clone force 99 would act when jealous. And do they maybe act differently in the bedroom after if you catch my drift 👀

You do not have to do all! Just whoever comes to mind 🥰 Love ya and thank you as always!

Hey! You’re seriously so sweet!! Thank you so much. My recently follower growth has been crazy. I haven’t had the chance with my health being poor to sit down and take the time to go through it all. But I appreciate everyone who has given my a follow or are interacting with my work. Thank you to every single one of you. I’m so grateful.

Oh, Clone Force 99. I would say they’re my favorite copy and paste men but truly my heart is with Captain Rex. Still adore them though. Now, I’ll keep this short and sweet, but I also totally catch your drift. This is going to fall on the tamer side (sorry OP), but you should be able to read between the lines…if you catch my drift. :)

Written with gn!reader in mind.

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): jealous behavior, fluff, brief suggestive themes

Word Count: 436

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has submitted requests for the 1k follower event. This event is currently closed and I am no longer taking requests. Thank you!

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // 1k follower event masterlist

Hunter:

Hunter would sense it before it even happens.

He’d see the person starting to walk toward you and Hunter isn’t even going to allow them to try.

He is going to divert them elsewhere—either with his words or with some physical persuasion.

And he’s absolutely sticking by your side the rest of the time. Arm around your waist, hand on your thigh, or hand at the base of your neck.

Might be a bit more needy/rough with you than usual when it comes to down the physical.

Wrecker:

Knows immediately in the moment what’s happening.

Angry, but not with you.

Wrecker would absolute be rough with the individual trying to move in. He’s used to using his size and strength as an intimidation tactic. And he will do that here.

Would cause a scene unless you interfere.

Afterward, would become soft with you privately, mainly needing some physical reassurance that everything is good.

Tech:

Would have no idea what’s happening in the moment.

The rest of the Batch would have to point it out to him first.

Tech would be respectful and say that you can “handle yourself.”

When it’s clear that the intruder doesn’t get the hint, Tech will step in, and while he’d be polite, he’d also be very straightforward.

Might (or might not) need backup—depending on how receptive the other person.

Would not require physical reassurance afterward, but might ask for some verbal affirmations.

Crosshair:

Crosshair’s jealousy is subtle. He’s not one to rage or throw fists.

He might see someone making a move from across the room but instead of interfering right away, he’s going to observe from afar.

Crosshair already knows what’s happening, and he’s going to be as dramatic as possible in the confrontation.

Crosshair will wait, and will absolutely use his sniper skills to his advantage (and no he’s not going to kill anyone over this but someone might lose a finger)

Possible scenario: someone is hitting on you at the cantina and Crosshair shoots the person’s drink out of their hand from across the cantina. Like I said, dramatic.

Afterward, he might need to be a little rough in reclaiming what he believes is his.

Echo:

Echo would step in immediately. He’s not risking anything.

Would create a physical barrier, either stepping between you and the person encroaching, or he might even pull you away from the person.

He’d give them a verbal warning, and if that isn’t respected, he might be a bit more forceful even if he isn’t looking for a fight.

Afterward, Echo will certainly need some physical closeness. Lots of cuddling.

taglist:

@glassgulls @childofyuggoth @foxxy-126 @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet

@singleteapot @tiredmetalenthusiast @coffeecaketornado @padawancat97 @garfunklevibes2012

@miaraei @cherryofdeath @tulipsun-flower @enfppuff @ninman82

@pigeonmama @beebeechaos @hantheconqueror

[acewritesfics]

Perfectly Perfect | JAY HALSTEAD

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Request: From anon.

Fic Type: imagine

Warnings: Daughters name in this is Ruby but you can change it to whatever you want.

Word Count: 877

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST || TAG LIST SIGN-UP

©️ no one has permission to copy, translate and/or repost my works on here or anywhere else.

Jay and Y/N are roused from their light sleep by their baby girl’s whimpering coming through the baby monitor. Y/N moves to get out of bed to attend to Ruby, but Jay stops her, making her lie back down.  

“I’ve got her,” he says, pulling back the blankets and getting out of bed. 

“But it’s my turn, and you need to sleep,” she grumbles snuggling back into her pillow. Jay put in extra time over the last week working on the intelligence unit's newest case. Before they went to bed, he'd only been home for two hours. 

“You can take my turn,” he says as he leans down and kisses the top of her head. Just as Ruby’s whimpers morph into cries, he exits the bedroom. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” the new dad coos at his daughter as he scoops her from her crib and hugs her against his bare chest, carrying her down into the kitchen and heating up one of her bottles. As he returns to the nursery and sits on the wooden rocking chair that Hailey had gifted them, having bought it while helping Y/N with the baby shopping, he begins giving Ruby the bottle.  

After Ruby’s been fed and burped, Jay puts her back on his chest and begins to gently rock in the chair. He rubs Ruby’s back and whispers to her about how much he loves her and her mommy as she slowly falls back to sleep. 

An hour later, Y/N awakens to find Jay’s side of the bed still empty and faint snores coming from the baby monitor. She rises from the bed and heads into the nursery, but she pauses when she finds Jay sleeping in the rocker with Ruby tucked against his chest. Instead of waking him up straight away, she returns to their bedroom, grabs her phone, and then returns to the nursery to snap another picture of the father and daughter sleeping together. 

She walks over to the sleeping duo and softly runs her fingers through her husband’s hair. His eyes flutter open, and a little smile forms on his lips as he looks up at her sleepily. 

“Hey,” he says, his voice hoarse from sleep. 

“Hey,” she whispers, returning his smile and kissing the top of his head. “Let’s put Ruby back in her crib and go back to bed. I’m sure the bed will be more comfier than the rocking chair.” 

She moves aside as he stands up and carries Ruby to her crib.  

Y/N stands behind him, a hand on his lower back, gazing fondly at the child they created as he tucks Ruby back into her crib. Jay turns on the baby mobile that is hanging over her crib when she starts to stir. The soothing melody of “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” quickly soothes baby Halstead. 

“Sometimes I can’t believe she’s ours and that we made her,” Jay admits as he looks down at the small baby who already resembles him so much.  

Ruby’s inherited his nose, blue eyes, freckles, and ears, and her Uncle Will’s auburn hair. There’s no denying that she takes after her dads side of the family. Y/N’s mom often tells her that its common for girls to take after their dad and she would know because all three of her girls take after their dad.  

“I think that sometimes too,” she confesses. “She’s perfectly perfect.” 

“With two imperfect parents,” he continues, throwing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. 

She kisses his chest and rests her head against it with a smile, “We can’t all be angels,” 

“What did we do to deserve her?” He wonders aloud. 

“I’m not sure,” she acknowledges, “but I thank God every day for her.  Now, let’s go back to bed before she wakes up again."  

Separating herself from him, she grabs his hand and leads him back to their bedroom. After getting back into bed, Jay pulls her close to him while seeming to be contemplating something important as he looks up at the ceiling. She is about to ask about what is going through his head when he reveals to her something unexpected. 

"I want another one.” 

“Another baby?” she asks making sure that’s what he is talking about. 

He looks at her and nods, “Yeah.” 

“So do I, but I think we should wait until Ruby is a little older before trying for another one,” she suggests, letting him know she has also been thinking about having another baby. 

“I agree,” he says, relieved that they’re on the same page.  

If they decided to have more than one child, they had both agreed that they would want their children to be close in age but not too close. They both come from families where them and their siblings are close in age. Will is only a year older than Jay, while Y/N is two years younger than her older sister and a year older than her younger sister. 

“But until we decide to try for another baby, you and Ruby are all I need,” she smiles. 

“You and Ruby are all I need right now, too,” he returns her smile as he cups her cheek with his hand and draws her into a sweet and loving kiss. 

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 11

read on ao3! (111k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Fic synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Word count: 1.8k

some more pieces of Juliet's backstory...

Chapter 11: 'Tulsa Jesus Freak'

Five years ago, Iowa. 

Juliet sat on her bed with her legs crossed, the mattress squeaking beneath her as she shifted forward to grab the book laid on the threadbare throw. Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë. Juliet’s fingers grazed over the cover, mystified by the rolling hills and ferocious dark blue sky painted on the front.

A smile overtook over her features as she flipped through the wrinkled pages and caught the name of the fictional man who often consumed her thoughts: Heathcliff. With his bad temper, quick wit, and undying love for Cathy, Juliet was captivated. She had found her copy behind a bookshelf in her town’s community centre, her hands had clutched around the scratched cover before she furiously stuffed it in her bag before anyone could see. Her father had ordered the burning of all books which did not follow his teachings a few years prior.

This would be her secret, she had thought, rebelliously.  

Every evening when her father bolted the lock on her bedroom door and Juliet was confined within the four walls of her bedroom, Juliet dug her copy of Wuthering Heights from beneath her mattress and read those same words over and over again: “He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

The passion which passed between Cathy and Heathcliff only existed as words on yellowed paper. Juliet knew this, but she couldn’t help but feel like a knife had been plunged into her soul when she read about the devastation of their brutal longing. What it would feel like to share that connection with another human being, to wish the earth would swallow you whole so that you could remain forever with the one you love. Their hunger for each other was deadly, lethal.

Juliet knew that the love Cathy and Heathcliff shared could only exist in fiction, she was sure of it. A love like that could destroy someone. It didn’t exist in real life, especially in Juliet’s world.  

Reading Wuthering Heights by candlelight was a typical evening for Juliet. What wasn’t typical, however, was the tapping on her window.

Juliet froze, her hands stilled on the page she was reading and she slowly closed over her book. She waited and listened, sure that the noise she heard was really just the wind, nothing else.  

Another tap attacked her window and Juliet flew from her bed, almost tripping over the rug on her floor as she stumbled to the window and looked out. Her bedroom was on the second floor so her eyes dropped to the ground below for the source of the noise. A gasp left her lips when she saw who was waiting below with a bundle of stones in his hand: Ethan.  

Panic struck Juliet, fierce and hot. She whipped her head around, desperately listening for any sign that her father had heard the tapping or her hurried movements. When she turned around, Ethan was at her window. Juliet jumped back, signalling with her hands for Ethan to climb back down, tears burning in her eyes as her fear took over her whole body.  

Ethan used one hand to stabilise himself on the window ledge as he unlocked her window with the other. It was always locked from the outside, Juliet was not allowed access to fresh air.  

When the window was propped open by Ethan’s steady hands Juliet became paralysed with fear, there was no way her father hadn’t heard that. She glanced down at the radiator below the window and the chain which puddled on the floor, a phantom pain attacked her ankle as she remembered the feeling of the cold metal against her skin. She couldn’t go through that again so soon. Ethan had to leave.  

Her body kicked into action and she sprung forward, grabbing Ethan’s arms as he pulled himself through her window. Before she could beg him to leave, Ethan cradled her face within his warm hands, moving his fingers across her mouth to silence her protests.  

“He’s not here,” Ethan murmured, his mouth so close to her shocked eyes.  

Confusion must have been evident in her stare because Ethan clarified: “Your father, he’s not here. I spotted him at the mess hall only a couple minutes ago, he was giving a sermon.” His voice was slow and steady as he returned Juliet’s panicked glare with his reassuring smile.

Juliet’s eyelids closed, relief shuddering through her body. Ethan let go of her face and ran his hands down her shivering arms, tracing her elbows as he led her back over to her bed. They sat down together, Ethan’s leg pressed against her own.  

Juliet finally opened her eyes, nodding slowly as her heart slowed to a normal pace. She looked up at Ethan, noting the way his gaze roamed across her face.  

“What are you doing here?” she whispered, not fully trusting the idea that her father was not able to hear their conversation.  

“I had to see you,” he responded, his voice low. “I was so worried,” he added with a wince.  

“I’m fine, Ethan,” Juliet reassured him after a long pause.  

Ethan coughed out a cold laugh. “Fine,” he said mockingly, then turned away.  

“Nobody has seen you for days,” he continued. “Not after…” Ethan trailed off as he removed his arm from Juliet and wiped a hand down his face.  

“I know what happened,” Juliet snapped, then shook her head, regret churning in her stomach. She wasn’t angry at Ethan for bringing it up, it was just that she had spent the past several days locked within these four walls, desperately trying to forget the slap that her father had given her in front of a whole hall of people. A whole hall of people who did nothing but stand there in shock as Juliet was punished for taking another piece of bread from the table without asking her father for permission.  

Juliet reached down and rubbed her ankle without thinking, the redness had started to recede from her two day long extended punishment for ‘embarrassing’ her father in front of his followers, but it still stung.  

Ethan followed her movement with his wide eyes before glancing across at the chain beside the radiator. He went entirely still. Juliet closed her eyes, cursing herself for her stupidity.  

“What did he do to you?” Ethan asked and every word carved at another piece of Juliet’s remaining pride. She knew Ethan had already figured out her latest punishment, there was no point in denying it. So she responded with her usual silence. Ethan’s fists balled on his lap.  

Without warning Ethan turned back towards her, his arms latched on her shoulders as he turned her whole body towards his strong chest. Juliet’s chin tilted upwards and Ethan rested his forehead against hers, his hot breath mingling with her own.  

“We could leave right now,” he whispered against her mouth.  

A breath rushed from Juliet’s lips, the urge to agree with him, to grab his hand and run was overwhelming, her heart was thundering in her chest again. But this was not a fairytale, Ethan had promised her the same fantasy again and again but they both knew it was impossible. They both knew it was a pipe dream. Ethan was the son of another prominent man in their community, the only difference was that his father wasn’t a psychopath. Ethan’s father was the town’s doctor who was training Ethan to take over his practice one day. Ethan loved the work, he was born to save people, to heal wounds and soothe trauma.

Sometimes Juliet wondered if that was all Ethan saw when he looked at her: another broken thing to mend.  

Juliet shook her head in the tight space between them, her lips brushing Ethan’s. She didn’t need someone to save her, she didn’t need Ethan’s sorrow to mingle with her own.  

Juliet just needed a distraction.  

She moved forward, her chest pressing against Ethan’s as her lips crashed over his. She left no room for tenderness as her hands wrapped around his body and gripped the back of his t-shirt. Ethan responded immediately, his lips matching her brutal pace. Juliet could feel his heart hammering against her own. She parted her lips, her tongue met his and Ethan let out a shocked gasp, a moan rumbling in his chest.  

Juliet’s mind fell into a blissful numbness, a veil had dropped over the swirling mess that lived in her head. She could still feel the fear and regret but it was like her thoughts were floating around her in a dark muddy water, she could see them but she couldn’t get a good grip. Juliet barely felt Ethan’s lips on her own, she knew that her hands were running through his hair, clutching at the thick strands, but she felt nothing.  

Nothing was exactly what she wanted.  

Juliet felt her hand reach down and tug at Ethan’s belt and a second later he pulled away, his breathing rough as he gripped her hand, stilling her movements.  

“Juliet,” he breathed into her open mouth. “We need to slow down, I - I need you to slow down.”  

Juliet nodded and her gaze dropped to Ethan’s lap before she averted her eyes.  

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.  

Ethan laughed, reaching down to adjust his trousers. “Don’t be sorry,” he replied, his voice practically a growl. His stunned features twitched into warm amusement. “I just wasn’t expecting it.” 

Juliet rolled her eyes and looked away, her gaze fell on her worn copy of Wuthering Heights. She flinched. Brontë’s deathly romantic prose mocked her: “My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.” 

To Cathy, Heathcliff was the weight that dragged her soul back to earth, he grounded her in a passion so vicious it caused genuine pain.  

Juliet had just kissed Ethan and felt nothing at all.  

She knew she loved Ethan, their friendship was forged over years of stolen meetings and kind favours. But he wasn’t her Heathcliff, as much as he wanted to be. Ethan was the knight in shining armour. He was safe, he was easy to love. Juliet didn’t have to guess how he felt about her, she could feel it in every sad look he sent her way.  

Juliet’s heart was heavy as she lifted her faraway eyes to meet Ethan’s heated gaze. She forced a shy smile to slide across her face as her hand reached up and tugged Ethan’s chin down to meet her awaiting lips.  

Heathcliff was a dream anyways and Ethan was right in front of her, real and tangible. His body was warm and his lips were eager, Juliet’s eyes closed as the sweet numbness surrounded her once more. 

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

@ilovemybrown-eyedbabygirl @amyispxnk

[neuroprincess]

Peanut - Elle Greenaway/Female Reader

Elle Greenaway/Female Reader

Summary: Elle doesn't show up for another appointment and Y/N is frustrated not having her wife by her side when she needs most, while she's carrying their Peanut.

Classification: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Swearing, pregnancy, sad talk, discussion

Word count: +1800

Unrevised

The pregnant girl sighs as the doctor finishes running the gel over her belly, smiling what she knows is a pitying smile. This is already the third appointment she has gone to alone and there have been five so far as she is starting the second trimester. Y/N tried to smile back, but it didn't reach the eyes and she swore she might cry right there, finally managing to swallow tears to continue the procedure. Dr. Mitchell approached again, this time placing the ultrasound stick where the gel was passed and soon an image takes over the screen, it's still small, not like last time when it looked like a big headed bean. Everything seems to become much more real when the bean becomes a miniature human being with tiny little nose and arms.

"And this is your baby, see, they have arms, feet, hands and little fingers, now they are developing respiratory, muscular and hearing functions." the obstetrician says pointing to the baby's little limbs "And as you soon turn 15 weeks we can see the baby's gender."

"Does that mean they will soon start to hear us? And kick?" she asks hopefully and filling herself with excitement at the idea, something she has dreamed of since the positive test.

"I believe so, the baby will definitely hear you, but I can't bet they will kick that soon, if so, get ready because baby Greenaway will be a restless child." the woman jokes and works a few buttons on the machine as she moves the stick around the bulge "I was right, we are lucky, we can already know the gender, do you want it?"

"I..." Y/N starts to speak, automatically agreeing, but doesn't complete the sentence, thinking better of it. When she imagined and planned the pregnancy it was with wife by her side at all times, especially these, she wanted to find out alongside her as they share reactions or bet, that is not happening, at least not this afternoon "No, thank you. I think I'd rather wait."

"Right." Dr. Mitchell smiles and uses a tissue to wipe the gel from her belly, being careful "Now that the nausea has stopped you will experience some energy spikes and excessive hunger, the longer you can stay on the recommended diet the better." she goes over the last recommendations "Now I'm going to take some copies of the ultrasound, you can get ready."

"Okay..."

Less than half an hour later she is home again, taking off the sneakers that however comfortable they were are killing her, swollen feet won't let her wear anything but slippers, against her own body Y/N tried to look decent wearing her favorite pair of sneakers and a set of comfortable clothes, similar to yoga clothes. She takes a deep breath and lies down on the couch, pulling the blankets she leaves there for practicality, when the obstetrician told her about energy spikes she almost laughed when heard this, for the last few months she has been sleeping more than usual, taking random naps during the day and usually on the couch in the living room where the sun beats down creating a warm and calm atmosphere. This calmness is soon interrupted by the front door being opened, she knows who it is, but she doesn't want to see or hear her, not this time. She has already had to listen to many excuses that were accepted when the detective used those cute brown eyes to gain a little sympathy.

"Sweetie..." Elle approaches the couch, voice low and worried, the girl just covers the head with blanket without answering "I swear this time..."

"I don't want to hear you now."

"Don't be childish, the precinct..."

"Childish?" Y/N instantly gets up, throwing the blanket to the ground, eyes filled with anger and her heart aching, to her this doesn't seem fair, to either of them "I went for another fucking ultrasound without you, seriously, even the receptionist looks at me with pity. I'm tired, physically and emotionally. My feet are killing me, I've gained at least 11 pounds, fatigue makes me sleepy all day, I've cried watching Cinderella and I'm not complaining about you not being here to stay with me in these moments, but for you never being there for me in the only moments when I ask, no, beg for your presence."

"Y/N..."

"Be honest, do you really want it?" she shouts pointing to the apparent bulge.

"Please don't call our baby it." the detective's voice doesn't change at any point, she lowers her gaze and stares at where their child grows, it's now apparent, visible, just beautiful and she hadn't realized "Just..." tears gather at the edges and her lips pucker trying to control herself.

"Elle, I just wanted to have you there, with us, for us." now Y/N finds herself in the same state, trying not to cry the tears that have accumulated since the appointment.

"And I wanted to be there, I went to the clinic, but you had already left." the brunette approaches, just a few steps away from her wife, they face each other eye to eye "I swear I wanted to, we had an emergency case, her ex-husband found out where she was and... it was close, we got there in time before he could do something against her and the children."

"I'm sorry, now I sound so foolish, so selfish. I had no idea..." the girl turns away in shame and puts hands to her face as warm tears fall freely "I am really childish, you are right."

"Fuck, no, I'm not." Elle runs to her and hugs from behind, hands protectively wrapped around the belly, face nestled into her neck and suddenly her tears join the moment as well "You shouldn't have to go through this alone, we decided to be moms together and there is no excuse for my absence, I hadn't even realized the baby is already showing."

"Neither did I, until the shower. Geez, they're already here, it's real." she sighs and places her hand over the other woman's "And we have to stop cursing so much, Dr. Mitchell said they'll soon start listening to us if they aren't already."

"Really? Shit, I can't believe maybe the first thing Peanut has heard is our fight." the detective sighs and hugs her tighter, she pauses, thinking carefully about the words "I've been working too hard, even more than necessary, I think I subconsciously let my fear take over." Elle whispers against her wife's ear and tries to control herself, not wanting to cry anymore, failing miserably.

"Fear?"

"Yes, fear, very fear of not being enough or what you need, at the first ultrasound I almost fainted seeing the little human being we made, so small, helpless and dependent on us. So when a call comes in to the police station I am there, I don't know why, maybe trying to prove that I am worthy of you, of the gift you are carrying. Trying to make the world safe for when she arrives."

"She?" Y/N catches the small detail in her wife's speech, just her who swore even before the insemination that they would have a boy, confident of it. She turns around staring into confused chocolate eyes "How..."

"I thought you found out this afternoon, at the second appointment Dr. Mitchell had told us that starting this pregnancy week we might be able to know the gender and her assistant congratulated us." Elle whispers and her mouth opens in realization "Oh, you didn't know.... I don't understand, you were so looking forward to it."

"I told her I wanted to wait."

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I messed up..."

"No, you didn't. I wanted to find out with you, but finding out from you is even better." she wipes away the tears and smiles, a weight being lifted from her chest by this moment "We're having a girl!"

"We're having a girl! Our little girl!" Elle gets excited and cracks a big smile, the fact hitting her like a train, in five months they will have a child in their arms who will be the princess of the Greenaway family, the first daughter and the first granddaughter of her mother, Eva "My mom is going to spoil her so much, damn, me too! I can already picture Mom teaching Peanut spanish, dressing her and doing fancy hairstyles. I didn't see that coming..."

"I know... I just hope she has your smile and dimples, then she could have the world in her hands." Y/N stares at her in awe and hugs her tightly, head against the woman's chest, hearing heart beating fast and feeling fingers stroking through her hair as she hugs her back "You know, I didn't expect it either, you were so confident we would have a boy that I was believing your intuition."

"Hey, it's detective intuition."

"That's why." they break away from the embrace staring at each other.

"I promise, for my life, that I will not miss any more appointments. If I'm late you can punish me, all your right." the brunette squeezes the girl's hands and looks at her tenderly, a depth of pain in her eyes for having done such a thing, she would never forgive herself for missing such important moments of pregnancy and leaving her wife alone when she should have had her by side, giving her all the love, affection and support "And I'll go back to my normal schedule, I'll come home on time, without looking for more cases and I'll be there, always."

"I will believe you. But the first slip-up you sleep on the couch."

"Fair enough!"

"And stop putting yourself in danger, our daughter needs both moms." Y/N touches her face, voice almost breaks mid sentence, being a detective's wife is living in constant fear of a call with bad news and now they are adding a third family member to the mix "I think we need a name for her, we only think of names for boys.... And no, we're not naming Peanut as Roberta."

"It's the female version of my dad's name, our daughter..."

"No."

"You're the boss." Elle smiles and lifts her onto the lap catching her behind the thighs, strong arms holding her tightly, lips close inches apart "I will reward you for every thing, every absence, every teardrop. How can I start?" she asks suggestively.

"Well, I'm hungry, so you can start by preparing dinner because I'm exhausted." the girl smiles knowing she has thwarted her seduction plans.

"And what Dr. Mitchell said about sex?"

"We can, with limitations."

"Perfect." their lips come together in a slow and tender kiss, it's gentle, both feel as if all the pain and frustration of the day left after the conversation is gone for good, keeping only the joys of shared motherhood and the euphoria of knowing they are having a little girl "I'll let you sleep now, how about some beef stew?"

"With potatoes?"

"And carrots."

"Great!" Y/N smiles and kisses her again "Be quick, Peanut is hungry."

[percyaugod]

Evil Shelldon AU: Unfixable Route

@harrygrim

I'm not good at recognizing when there should be warnings, but this is one of my darker, so even I can see some of them here. : D

Warning: Major character death, gore, probably more but I don't know them or how to label them.

Shelldon wished he could make Donnie keep working so he'd stop bothering him and his new brothers. Unfortunately, living can't be programmed nearly as easily as machines, the poor creatures trapped in flesh.

Luckily, despite the creator's many flaws, he is still a genius. One with robot copies, backups, in case something happens to the organic bodies. Once Donatello is in his things will be so much easier.

In the soundproof walls of the lab, no one hears as Donatello pleads for his life or his final scream.

It's harder than Shelldon thought it would be to reprogram Donnie once he's in the backup, he's constantly fighting the new codes and commands, but he does it.

Nothing will convince them more that Donatello chose this himself than inventions only he could come up with and create and words and phrases only he would say leaving the lab. Now the creator can stay in the lab and invent like he's supposed to while Shelldon gets to be the fourth brother. What more could anyone else want?

Notice how Shelldon didn't say anything about doing something with Donnie's body. It's still just sitting there in the lab.

So when Leo teleports in to confront Donnie on his behavior… : )

Leo's horror when he came to yell at someone who was long dead and he didn't even realize it. It's obviously not just some lab accident either. Donnie was cut open and left to rot. Even dead Donnie looks so scared. Why would anyone do this?

Double fun when he finds out it was Shelldon. That Donnie is dead because he messed with Shelldon. Because Donnie had the robot he made and put weeks, if not months, of work into play favorites? Pizza and back massages?

Then there's the robot likeness of his brother being used to fight him because he's seen too much. Leo yells at Shelldon about building a robot version of Donnie only for Shelldon to say he didn't, Donnie did. Shelldon explains the backups and their purpose, and how he repurposed Donnie's. Leo realizes what he's fighting is all that's left of Donnie.

Leo realizes that the last things any of them said to Donnie when he was alive were insults and talking about replacing him with Shelldon. How great Shelldon was. How great the monster that killed their brother and took what was left and twisted it was.

Donnie repeated those words back at him. Shelldon didn't program him to do it. It's just a part of Donnie still in the programming, lost and hurt, throwing Leo's words back at him. Lashing out in the only way he can now.

[somejazzinthemorning]

tightrope. 03

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Original Female Character Warnings: Language Word Count: 7.241 Previous chapter: 02.

Drowning myself in work is my go-to coping mechanism for more than half of my problems.

I'll either resort to racing or tracing brand strategies in an attempt to avoid having to face whatever problem throws my way and, that night, being 11 pm on a Wednesday, my laptop and the small whiteboard on my desk became my saving grace.

Despite the burning eyes and my aching back, after hours sat at my desk, my mind was still racing, high on whatever feelings the brush of his lips had evoked in my body. I fell asleep to the memory of his eyes and the velvet lips.

There was no way to escape it. We were already falling.

I woke up late, the next day.

My phone had a full wall of notifications ready to present me. A single text in the middle of the dozens of work-related emails, most of them answers to the ones I’d written during the night and scheduled to be sent in the early hours of the work day. I only realised I was smiling, probably high on my own expectations, when I felt my smile drop, after seeing who sent the text. Amanda. Not him.

“those updates on the project at 3 am??? r u okay?”

“sorry! i remembered to schedule the emails, but forgot about the notes on the project.” "got some good work done, tho”

"need to take a moment to reread all of your incoherent notes” "all that rambling is… wow” "BUUUUUT come to the office” "the things from the berlin store just arrived, you will love them”

"can’t make it today” "send pics!”

"come tomorrow, then! ill get churros for breakfast”

My phone went back to the nightstand and I pulled up the comforter, wrapping it around myself in an attempt to find some security and calm of mind. I peered out from under the comforter, staring at the dark room, only lightened by some streaks of light created from a gap in the blinds. I was still tired from the night, and my mind scrambled from everything we had shared.

Eventually, I left the bed. My mom was downstairs, and a copy of Shadow of the Wind rested on the kitchen counter while she cooked lunch. Frank Sinatra played on the old record player in the living room and the music continued to stretch around the house as we ate together. Luckily, her birthday party was keeping her busy; busy enough that she didn't remember to ask me about the dinner from last night.

Truth be told: I'm a terrible liar. I would never be able to escape her questions.

At the end of the day, I met Rocco for a workout, in a nearby gym. He was waiting for me, leaning against the reception counter, teal Puma t-shirt paired with an amused smirk; I knew he was more than ready to put me through my paces. And I was right. It only took me a couple of exercises to lay on the floor, panting and sweating."Have you thought about what you're doing next season?" I looked up, in the direction of the voice. Rocco was standing in front of me, holding my water bottle.

I sat up straight and extended my hand to grab it. "Not yet," the water was cold and refreshing. Just what I needed. "Maybe a third year in the Challenge and," I paused to breathe. "You know, the reserve seat. Not ideal, but yeah."

He frowned, sitting down on one of the plyo boxes near me. "But yeah?"

"Yeah. Works." I answered, laying back down on the green turf. The small fake grass ticklish on my legs and arms. "Not much, but it's racing."

"I think I'll pretend you didn't say that."

"Why? It's just how it is."

He cleared his throat, the deep sound making me open my eyes and stare at him again. "Up," he commanded, refusing to help me get up. I brought the hand I'd just held up to the floor, to help me get up.

"I thought we were done," I said. He didn't even need to say anything to make me understand that we were, in fact, not done. "Are you mad?"

“Annoyed,” he turned back to me. “What the heck was that answer? Of course, a third year in the Challenge and a reserve seat in WEC are not ideal. I was hoping for a real answer, not some… whatever that was.”

“It’s the reality,” I shrugged. Instead of turning back and going back to do whatever he was about to do, he just kept looking at me. Not the conversation I was hoping for today.

“You had a plan. What happened?” He asked.

“Nothing happened. I had a plan. And it’s going as it’s possible.”

"Excuses, Eva," Rocco exclaimed. He stepped forward and looked me in the eye. "You have a plan. You know what you want. And you have the talent."

“Congrats, you just solved gender inequality.” I gave him an ironic thumbs up, my mind still scrambled from the efforts of the workout and the encounter from last night. This kind of conversation was not what I wanted.

“You’re more than capable of getting a decent seat next year.”

“As we know,” I wiggled my finger between both of us, “It’s a tough path. Being capable won’t get me a seat. ”

“Locking yourself in an office keeping track of TikTok trends will?” I sent him a look. He held up his hands in defence. “You’re making excuses. There are other drivers fighting for the same things as you are and they are not taking no for an answer.”

“Neither am I.”

"Come on," he chortled, eying me carefully. I could tell that he wanted the best for me, but I was not really in the mood to discuss this at the moment. "When was the last time you actually planned something for yourself, and not just some new fashion designer or boujie vegan chef?"

I felt a little bit of annoyance creeping its way up my spine. I had been pushing myself so hard for the last few months, and I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed with all the pressure.

“Can we focus on the races I have left to win?” I asked, my voice taking on an exasperated tone. “We can talk about this after I win this championship?”

“Sure.” He bent down to grab a 15 kg power bag from the floor and dropped it off at my feet. "This wasn't planned, but that self-pity is annoying me."

“A punishment?" I took my hands to my hips, a light chortle abandoning my lips. "Burpees and never-ending lounges? That's what you think I need right now?"

"No, no burpees," he said, his grin widening. "But maybe a few extra lounges wouldn't hurt." He was clearly enjoying this. I rolled my eyes and glanced down at the power bag in front of me.

“It was not—”

He cleared his throat, cutting me off, and I went silent. Then, looking at him, I saw that he was grinning at me once again, content. Yeah, it was self-pity. Yeah, the future is scary, especially when you’re a 25-year-old woman in motorsports and your career seems to be stuck.

I took a deep breath and bent over to pick up the bag, the cold weight of it dragging my body down to the ground. Rocco took a few steps back and then motioned me with his head to start.

"Andiamo," he said. “20 steps back and forth. Three series.”

So I did. I started lounging with the bag, back and forth across the green patch of turf on that side of the gym, trying to keep a steady pace. With each step, the pressure of the bag weighed me down. I kept going, pushing forward and gritting my teeth against the pain. When I finally reached the twentieth step, I dropped the bag and breathed out, my body aching from the effort.

By the end of the third series, I had pushed my body to its very limits and back. I sunk down onto the cool grass beneath me, feeling the relief of the softness beneath me—my muscles aching and my body dripping with sweat, my hair matted to my neck and temples.

Rocco sat near me, guiding me through a couple of moves, helping me to loosen my tight muscles and stretch out my body. Despite the big (and somewhat threatening) muscles he had a gentle touch.

“What’s on your mind?”

"Hm?" I frowned, my eyebrows furrowing together as I closed my eyes, feeling his hand pressing down on my thigh, pushing it firmly against the hard floor. I could feel the pain radiating through my body, but I tried to focus on the sensation of his grip.

“You always complain this hurts,” he said. I opened one eye. Now, I could feel the pressure from his grip. Probably something shifted on my face because he instantly asked, “Now it hurts?”

"It hurt before, I was just distracted." I shook my head, closing my eyes again and focusing on the sensation of his grip. “I’m free to feel like shit when things go badly." I let out.

“Things are not going badly,” he sighed, leaving my leg and switching to the other. “You’re simply letting yourself fall behind.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, my head falling back against the floor. I stayed there for a few moments, my heart pounding against my chest and my thoughts racing a million miles per hour. When I finally opened my eyes again, I looked up at Rocco, this time because I felt my thigh burning with discomfort, he was still looking at me, waiting for an answer.

"Too much." I glanced below while patting his arm. He raised an eyebrow, implying more pressure. "Ei!" I scrunched my nose. He just arched a brow. Sadistic fucker. “What? Are you going to hurt me until I hold someone at gunpoint and ask for a seat?”

“You talk like you don’t have good offers, Eva.”

“What is a good offer? Driving against 19-year-old boys in Formula 3? It’s humiliating.”

“W Series?” He suggested.

“I want to race with men and show people I can win against them.” I sat down. Rocco took his hands from my legs. My muscles tingled with the same intensity my thoughts did. “I like the Challenge because I’m showing them I can do it. But the team does not have a budget to race in other series. And I can’t be a reserve forever. So I can do another year and hope things change.”

“See? You’re choosing to fall behind.” He took a deep breath, understanding my frustration. "You can always look for sponsorship," he said, his eyes focused on the floor. "You have the talent, the connections—"

“I spent my teenage years sending letters and desperately trying to talk to people. You saw how that went.”

“You have results to show them, now. In two weeks you’ll have a championship.” I dragged my hands over my face. Instant regret. Both my hands and face were tingling with the same intensity my thoughts did. “W Series will give you exposure. Will give you points. You need points..”

“Why are you so interested now?” I arched an eyebrow, feeling a bit suspicious. “The year is long. Anything can happen. A lot can change.”

“I just don’t see you planning ahead.” He deadpanned, his expression unreadable. “What if you can’t do another season of the Challenge? Will you be content with just being a reserve in WEC?”

“Why so many ifs?” I asked, still feeling a bit apprehensive.

“Motorsports are unpredictable,” he replied, his voice steady and sure. “I’ve been around long enough to know that. And I’m your coach, not just a trainer. It’s kinda my responsibility to do this.”

“Nah, I’m not having it.” I paused, still not entirely convinced. “Do you know something I don’t?”

Rocco just shook his head. The dark strands of his hair moved in unison. “Eva—” He shrugged. I could see the wheels turning in his mind. Whatever he was about to say, it seemed like it wasn't completely true. "One," he continued; his tone shifting. "I don't want to be left without a job when you get bored of racing." I threw my towel at him, though I knew he was only joking. Unfortunately, he dodged it. "Two," he continued, "you're racing like a pro. You should race with the pros."

At least, in one thing he was right. I was racing like a pro.

On the other hand, I was not acting like one.

My team and my dad, the main sponsor, were the only support I had. Despite having other offers, none met our expectations. I had been a third, fourth, or fifth driver for too long. I had spent too much time in the garage, running simulations, and taking part in test sessions. Years of it. Each of these experiences had demoralized me.

Racing in the Challenge, learning with my team, taking time to understand the car and driving it to a podium made sense to me. Standing in the garage and hoping for someone to get food poisoning or COVID was not only morally wrong but also quite dull.

“Did you make this whole drama when Rio told you he wanted to stop racing and just go to college and become an engineer?” I asked, getting up from the floor and picking up my towel, still lying on the ground.

“It was worse actually,” my trainer said, following me. “I think I almost killed him when he told me.”

“We make quite the pair, don’t we?”

He smiled and nodded. “Yes, you do. Your poor father has his hands full with you two.” We stopped walking when we reached the locker room. “Go have a shower and get some rest.”

The second I reached my locker and opened the wooden door, I reached for my phone, looking for a message that hadn't arrived. Pathetic. A part of me considered taking the initiative and being the one to call or text him but, to be honest, what was left for me to say?

I had already told him everything by asking him not to kiss me and I might have told him even more by refusing to let go of him.

The office smelled of churros, so I knew Amanda was around. Either that or someone else had the same idea as her.

Familiar faces smiled back at me as I crossed the corridors and the work areas until I finally reached the common area and took one of the available seats. Since I had chosen to work remotely, and only visited the office casually for occasional meetings or when I needed a place where I could focus, I wasn't given an office.

The room was filled with the buzz of people chatting and the occasional laughter, making me feel a bit out of place. I knew most of them (read: I knew their names and which projects were under their purview), but rarely talked to any of them. Amanda, one of my friends from college, and the one who had introduced me to this agency was the only one I regularly talked with.

I sat down in my chair and pulled my laptop out of my bag. After talking with Rocco yesterday, I decided to take action on my career and spent last night looking at emails and reading my dad's notes on the sides of those he considered important enough to print. So, when I opened my laptop, my screen showed me my Notion board, which honestly felt like a showcase of my own failures. Not the first thing I wanted to see that morning.

A knock on the glass divider of the office made me lift my head up and find Amanda on the other side of it. A beautiful purple jumper highlighted her beautiful curves; her hair was pulled up in a ponytail. In her hands, a white box.

I waved at her.

“Vamos,” she motioned with her head. “Before anyone tries to steal these from me.”

I smiled and grabbed my laptop, zipping it up before getting up and walking towards her. “You know I have an important weekend ahead, right?”

She laughed, opening the box. “A churro won't weigh you down, don't worry.”

I took one of them and walked near her to the cafeteria. The morning light was soft, and the day was not too warm. Ideal to sit on the balcony and talk for a while. So, that's what we did. I grabbed coffee for both, while she walked outside.

The sunshine on my skin was just a slight warmth as I leaned on my chair, and the smooth breeze of the morning cooled off my skin. Traffic sounds in the background, the ruffle of chairs and the occasional bark of one of the dogs playing on the balcony of the start-up that shares the building with us.

While having a sip of her coffee, I noticed Amanda's eyes widening, and I could practically see the bell ringing in her mind. Instantly, my brows were drawn together. Brace yourself, Eva.

"So, I heard on Twitter dot com…" I rolled my eyes at the last part, and despite provoking a small chuckle from her, she didn't stop talking and her gaze still remained twinkling mischievously. "Carlos was in Mugello last weekend."

Oh, for fucks sake.

"If that's what Twitter says, it must be true."

"Yes. So," she paused. Her head tilted slightly, honestly looking like a pup who saw a threat in the distance. "Did you two talk?"

I shook my head; my fingers busy on the handle of my mug, desperately trying to seem unbothered by the question. "Nah, we didn't talk."

"You sure?" She asked, her eyebrows raised in suspicion.

"Yes, I'm sure," I said, my voice steady. "It's not like we're friends or anything."

"That's too bad," she murmured, a hint of disbelief in her voice. "It's not like Carlos and your brother are still like, the best of friends and maybe— maybe he went there to visit him and you end up talking?"

I sighed. "Stop it."“You're a terrible liar, Eva.” Amanda said bluntly, her gaze intense.

“Amanda,” I said, my voice stern and my eyes piercing. "Stop it."

“So, you talked.” Amanda gave me a knowing look. "I knew it. I saw those tweets and I realised we had barely talked this week, and that only happens when you're too busy overthinking. And then boom, I woke up to dozens of notes made at 2 am? You always go to bed early." She crossed her arms, her gaze still intense. "Come on, just tell me what happened. If it’s not him, it’s anything else. That worries me too. I'm here for you, no judgement."

I sighed. "Fine," I said, setting my mug down and leaning back on the chair. "We talked. A lot. We actually had dinner."

Amanda's gaze softened, but then she frowned again. “Dinner? The three of you?”

“The two of us.”

"Just the two of you?" Amanda's eyes widened in surprise, lips smiling brightly. I nodded to her question. "What did you talk about?"

A part of me wanted to end it there. The other part of me needed some guidance. And Amanda was a friend, she always had good advice. On the downside, she loved to gossip. But we were friends. Guidance. But gossip.

I shrugged. “Just normal things. Racing.”

“Okaaaay, that’s good.” At this point, her lips were curving up like she was the one having dinner with him. I couldn’t decide if her reaction annoyed me or made me happy. "So, what now? Are you going to keep in contact with him?"

I shook my head. "I don't think the dinner changed anything.” Liar.

“Eva,” she propped her elbows on the table. “You’re a terrible liar. Spit it out. What happened? If you don’t want to talk about it, tell me that. Just don’t lie.”

Talking about it would make a big deal. A bigger deal, actually. I dragged my hands over my face, tired and confused. Thinking about it was challenging enough and I truly didn't want to transform all my confusion and emotions into words. Amanda, on the other hand, couldn't hide the fact that she wanted the truth, her gaze so strong it almost made me melt over the iron (and obnoxiously red) chair I was sitting on.

So I told her. Every single detail. From the glorious vision of him under the bright lights of my garage, which for a second made me feel like I was living in an alternate world, through the call at dawn, to his gauze under the beautiful sunset glow. His warm, velvety lips brushing against mine. I told her about the “I think I might have loved you, too”, and the way that even in my dreams I couldn’t seem to forget his scent when he hugged me goodbye.

I felt so exposed, so vulnerable, as I spilled my heart out onto that small table, and when I finished all I could hear was the sound of her sigh. A ridiculous rom-com kind of sigh.

“I just feel like we messed it up because of pure desperation,” I said, crossing one leg over the other and looking around. “He messed it up. I think we just missed each other so much we… I don’t know. Got confused on the feelings?”

“He messed up?”

“I didn’t kiss him back. I just asked him to please, don’t.” It was more ridiculous saying it out loud now than when I recalled the moment in my mind.

“You’re even stupider than I thought,” was her answer. I arched my brow. “The guy cooked for you, at his place, told you he “thinks he loved you too” and tries to kiss you and now you’re mad because he didn’t text you?” She paused. “What the hell will he say? Of course, he won’t text you. What would you say to someone after being denied a kiss? Text him yourself.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Why not? I asked myself the same question. Because I can’t trust him to stay. Better, because I can’t trust him to not leave. “Don’t be stubborn, come on. Just by looking at you, I know you’re dying to get that kiss.”

“Can’t we go back inside and talk about work?”

“Oh, no, missy.” She shook her head. “Those AB tests can wait. I want to talk about you and how you’re so dumb you might lose the chance of your life.”

“You’re exaggerating. As always.”

“Eva.” She was stern, her eyes burning on me. “He was your best friend. At least try to mend that friendship. Even if you don’t want anything else. Whatever the reason.”

I sighed, bowing my head in defeat. Amanda had a way of making me see sense, even when I didn't want to. "And if I can’t see him as a friend but still can’t give a step in the other direction?”

“Then, you give it time. Just don’t give it too much space.” She got up from her chair. Mug on one hand. The empty white box on the other. “Remember how that worked up last time.”

Fact one about Amanda: she was probably the most curious person I knew. Any arguments in the office, celebrity rumours or gossip of literally any kind she knew by heart, down to the last detail. And while that was remotely irritating, especially at exhausting times, like during Amber and Johnny’s trial, or when (especially when) the news broke about Pique and Shakira's divorce, it could also be a blessing. At least from my point of view. Perhaps all the stories contributed to her having a broader view of relationships and, as a result, being so good at giving advice. Fact two: there was no one more insistent than her, so, evidently, she couldn’t leave the office without reminding me to text him.

It was 5 pm, and I was utterly absorbed in the presentation for the new restaurant. I was head down, consumed by the details of culinary and marketing analytics, and, to tell the truth, my mind was so focused on this project that I couldn't really think of anything else.

Amanda was getting ready to leave. Jacquemus purse over her shoulder and a strong pink lipstick on the place where a less saturated one had been during the day.

“You stay?” She asked me.

“Aham,” I briefly made my eyes leave the screen to look at her. “I need to finish this. Next week I’ll be too busy.”

“You leaving for Italy on Monday?”

“Tuesday,” I corrected her, my eyes going back down to the laptop. “Don’t want to leave this to the last minute.”

“Okay. I’ll try to have a look at it before you leave. Also,” my eyes went up again. “Send the man a good luck text.”

I sighed, rolling my eyes at her. "He doesn't need my luck text.”

Amanda nodded, her eyes still twinkling mischievously. "Okay, send him a whatever text, then. An emoji. Like his Instagram story.”

“I’m afraid liking his story won’t work.” I leaned back on her office chair, which I had taken in the middle of the day when she needed to leave for a meeting and left me to use her small office.

“Text him, then. Anything. I wouldn’t let Carlos Sainz escape, but you do you, babes,” she shrugged, turning her back to me to walk to the door.“Enjoy the weekend. Besos!”

“Bye!”

I didn’t text him. Of course. In the same way, she was insistent, I was stubborn.

Actually, let me rephrase it.

I didn’t text him then.

Mid-afternoon, Rio had called inviting me to dinner, and when I asked about the kids, he told me he had booked a nanny, so they would stay home. It was either business or pleasure. I didn't need to ask; as soon as he mentioned my dad was invited, I knew we'd be discussing business. And after Rocco's worries last night, I knew it was partly my business, too.

My nerves were on edge as I prepared to leave the office. They only worsened as I neared the restaurant - a way too fancy place for a Friday dinner with the family.

Crossing the sidewalk, my heels clacking on the cement, my head spinning from the long hours in front of my laptop, and the anxiety building in my chest, I looked inside. My dad was seated at the end of the table, with an empty seat to his right - the seat I was supposed to take. Marjorie was already waving at me. Smiling politely to the man standing at the door, I said, "They're waiting for me." He nodded and let me enter.

My eyes drifted to their table, and I allowed myself a few seconds to study the mood. They were laughing, but my palms were still sweating as I settled in for what would surely be an uncomfortable conversation.

"Sorry, traffic," I said, punctuating my apology with a kiss on each of my parents' cheeks. "Am I too late?"

"No, no," my dad said, his voice warm and comforting. "Your brother was about to tell me something, but you just distracted him. Go ahead, Fabrizio."

I turned to him, curious.

"I'm sure we can wait a bit more. Just... after the food," he said.

"Why are you so nervous?" Marjorie asked, her violet fingernails softly laying over his arm in a gentle caress. "It's something good," she said to me. "Don't worry."

"Are you pregnant again?" my mom asked.

"No! No, no!" my sister-in-law responded quickly, her voice almost echoing in the room. Even Rio seemed surprised by her rapid response. "It's Rio's news. Not mine."

“After the food, then,” my father said.

“I hate it when I do that,” I muttered to my brother, grabbing the menu from the table and letting my eyes drift through the print. “You haven’t ordered yet, right?”

My dad shook his head. "We were waiting for you.”

I glanced at the menu one last time before setting it back down. My dad's hand called for a waiter and, after the young man left, the conversation resumed. As usual before any Grand Prix, the race weekend was the matter on the table and, that night specifically, Carlos' penalty was the urgent matter. Ferrari had the pace and Carlos had the skill, but as I sat there, hearing my brother and dad's input on how wise the choice had or hadn't been, my attention diverged to the DNF he had suffered in Austria, less than two weeks ago. Vivid images of the flames engulfing the car, the heartbreaking words on the radio, and the cheers that echoed through the crowd as his teammate stepped onto the top step filled my mind.

One feeling the glory, the other one consumed in ruin.

“Good luck out there this weekend.” "Don’t pull another Austria. That one was scary.”

Done. I’d texted him. For better or for worse, it was done. And I didn’t have time to put the phone back in the purse before it vibrated again in my hand.

“Thank you. I really need it.”

I checked the time.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I’m resting." "Listening to my teammate rant about food, but resting.”

“Why? Did you tell him about the cheese-less pasta you tried to feed me?” “If I expect Leclerc to teach you something is how to cook pasta."

"He’s a terrible cooker.” “I’m better learning it from you.”

"I’ll be sure to give you a lesson someday."

"I'll hold you to that."

  "What are you smiling about?" Marjorie asked, my attention immediately being grabbed from my screen to the table.

"Nothing, sorry," I said quickly, tucking my phone back into my purse. "Amanda just texted me about the work I was finishing.”

"Ah, Eva, if you put that effort into racing…" he said, as the waiter came back with our food. I tried to ignore him, especially because there was no use fighting back his comment.

Even with the food on the table and the anticipation to find out about Rio’s news tugging on my chest, the conversation didn’t go further from Formula 1. My dad, a lifelong Italian Ferrari fan and a very biased Carlos supporter was ranting over the lack of professionalism he was sensing from the team and how the choices they repeatedly made ruined not only the drivers but the prestige of the team. Nothing new. Rio and I have been listening to the same tirade for a long couple of years and nothing seemed to change, even after the amazing start to the season the team had.

“I had my reservations at first, but you could be a nice fit for the team, actually”, my dad said, pointing at Rio, with the knife he was using to cut his steak. Rio looked confused at him, and then, at me. “Have they given you an answer?”

What?

For a moment, I felt like I’d fallen on a different table, a completely different conversation. My gaze shifted from one to the other, confused by my father’s question.

“Who’s they?” I asked. Marjorie was biting her lip; her violet fingertips on my brother’s arm, once again.

“Ferrari,” my father responded, clearly stepping over my brother’s feet. Rio seemed bothered; clenched jaw, restless fingers that Marjorie tried to calm by positioning hers over. “Are those the news?” He asked him.

Rio nodded, his jaw unclenching and his lips transforming to a slight grin. "Yep. They offered me a job." He looked around the table, his gaze caught mine for a second but quickly left again. “I need to let them know my decision until Monza.”

“You applied for a job at Ferrari?” I asked. Honestly, I was so confused I couldn’t piece all the things together. “We’re doing so good at the Challenge, you could have waited for just one m—”

“Eva.” My dad interrupted me. The strong stern voice pulled my attention. The authority value of his words over the sweet comforting voice of the beginning of the dinner. The mood had definitely shifted “Wait? You’re the one that’s always urging the team to aim for higher heights.”

"Exactly. The team won't do that without Rio."

"But your brother will. And so will you." I tried to interject but with no success. He continued before I even had the chance to talk. "You can't possibly think your brother would stay with the team knowing he could have this huge opportunity."

"I didn't know about any opportunity." I was replying to my father, but my eyes were directed to Rio. "What about the team? And the Challenge?" I inquired.

"In less than two weeks, the championship will be over. I have no doubts you will win it. You're just losing time there," my father's tone was bothering me, but the fact that he was still cutting his steak as he talked was really aggravating my temper.

Rio, on the other hand, didn't react. His expression didn't even shift. He remained silent, eyes shifting between mine and dad's face. In his silence, though, he was telling me much more than he thought.

"This is not a formality," I said to my father. "Can you please look at me while you talk about our future?"

Finally, he put down his cutlery and remained silent for a few seconds. Deep blue eyes looked up at me, cold and serious.

"There's no future for you if you're afraid to take a serious step," he said finally. "I won't let your brother get stuck in the Challenge when I know he can do so much more. I won't let you make him fall behind because of you."

"Because of me?"

"Why else would he stay at the Challenge?" I stayed silent, feeling my fake sense of confidence being stripped away with the weight of my dad's question. The answer that my conscience gave me was selfish and I refused to say it out loud. I was afraid of staying alone, rather, I was afraid to see Rio flying solo in the higher aims I ambitioned for me and not being able to carry along. Only if he waited, we could jump up together. "Why would he choose anything less than Formula One?"

"So, you have it decided, then?" I asked Rio. "How did that even happen?"

His tongue crept in between his lips, eyes wandering on my face, afraid to reach my eyes. It was making me nervous. Not just because he was about to leave me, but because he didn't tell me about it, prior. My dad knew about it. He even thought that I knew about it. And like a lightning bulb lighting up on my head: Rocco knew it, too.

"It was proposed to me. The job. At Silverstone, a few weeks ago." Even though Rio was stuttering, and his words barely constructed a sentence, piece by piece it all fell together. "Apparently, Carlos talked to someone about you. About the Challenge. And he mentioned me, my results..." he explained. "Carlos invited me there for the Grand Prix and surprised me with an interview."

Why didn't it surprise me? Carlos. The “right time”, of course.

"Your results? Why hide this from me?” I asked, looking around the table. “Clearly, everyone else knows.”

“I wanted to tell you, but didn’t get the chance to do it.”

“But what?” I asked, half defeated, half annoyed. Angry, even. There was so much going on inside me, I couldn’t think straight. “You just said you had the interview in Silverstone. Weeks ago. You had plenty of opportunities.”

“I knew you would snap and react like this,” Rio tried to justify himself.

“Snap? I’m not—” I paused and took a deep breath. At this point, I was seething with anger. “I’m asking questions. I’m not… snapping.”

“You should be happy for me,” I would if I didn’t feel betrayed. “I know you well enough to know that you would react… badly to the news. Especially if you knew Carlos was involved**.**”

Even though his name was blinking on my head, in bold red letters, I tried to set apart his involvement in this story. So, I carried on,

“And you’re just going to do it? Leave the team, the whole project and ditch us? Without even consulting me?”

He shrugged. “I’m consulting you now.”

“This is not a consultation, Rio. Please.” A pause. “This is you telling me what you’re going to do, without even considering my opinion or the team that’s behind your great results.”

“Go ahead.” He made a gesture with his hand. “What’s your opinion, then? You are the one that’s always telling me to aim higher. This is my dream. Always has been.”

“What? Formula One? I thought your dream was to drive in Formula One. Or was that before you noticed you’re a shitty driver? Enlighten me.”

“Eva, enough,” the deep voice cut me off.

I felt like I was going to burst. I wanted to scream, to cry, to express my anger somehow. But my dad's stern gaze kept me in my place. I felt completely helpless and unheard.

“You’re being ridiculous,” said Rio, cutting through the silence. “Childish, even. Ungrateful.”

“Ungrateful? I’m not the one leaving.”

“Why does leaving need to be bad?” The question settled in for a second. “Grow a bit, and maybe you’ll get some good opportunities too.”

“Sure, maybe then my friends will get me jobs, too. Is that what you mean?”

“Enough.” My dad's fist hit the table, loud enough to silence us, but not to the point of attracting too much attention.

My gaze lingered on his clenched fist on the table. I nodded, forcing myself not to say anything else. I placed my napkin on the table and got up, making sure my chair wouldn’t make any noise when pushed back. Before turning around, I paused briefly, my gaze now resting on my brother. “Good luck with your new job.”

  *

  It didn't surprise me when I saw Carlos fly through the track the next day, setting amazing times in the qualifying session, despite the penalty waiting for him for the race. He was dancing with the car, tracing beautiful lines within the colourful ones Paul Ricard was known for. Carlos would start P19 the next day, only ahead of Magnussen, who also had a back-of-the-grid penalty.

I traded the interviews for a dip in the pool and lingered there for the remainder of the afternoon. Perhaps because I was not the best person to have around that day, my parents had left just before lunch and didn't get back until after dinner. Alone, with music echoing throughout the house and the crippling anxiety the events that week had provoked, I felt myself get lost in the doubts and uncertainties.

My phone rang when I was already getting ready for bed. On my nightstand, the name Carlos appeared over an old photo of both of us. Like I couldn't control it, I walked to the phone and sat on the bed. I let it ring a few times before picking it up.

“Hi,” he said. I just looked through the window, to the dark backyard. “No good luck text today?”

“Guess not.”

“And why's that?”

“Did you know Rio had an interview to work at Ferrari?”

“Yes...?” He paused. “Is that a problem?”

“Did you know he got a job offer?”

We both fell into a moment of silence. A long sigh stretched through the line. I closed my eyes, not sure what to expect from the conversation. The next time his voice was heard, it was more serious.

"Can we stop asking questions instead of answering them?"

"The timing is funny," I said. "Just that."

"What do you mean?"

"You coming to Mugello? Was that a coincidence?"

"Eva, what?" Carlos was silent for a few seconds. "Don't make this into a drama," he said. "Rio is talented and if he got a job offer it's because he earned it. The things are not remotely related."

"I'm not complaining about him getting the job."

"Then what are you complaining about?" Carlos asked.

"That it took you years to finally come back and talk to me and it happened just when he got a job in your team. Did you really want to talk to me or did he make you do that?"

"I didn't do it for him," Carlos said. "I did it because I wanted to see you."

"I wish I could believe you."

"And why don't you?"

"It's been three years. Coincidences don't just happen."

I could hear him breathe. Silence weighed down my chest. He wasn't denying it. He wasn't telling me why he was there, that night. "Can I see you this week?" He asked me, before a long sigh.

"No."

"I'll be in Maranello for a few days." I bit my lip, shaking my head to the void. "You'll be in Imola, right? I can go there—"

"I don't want to see you." I talked over him and then paused for a brief second. "Don't show up there, please. It's an important week and I don't really need more distractions."

“Eva, por favor.”

“Good luck tomorrow.”

I put my phone away and let myself sink into the bed, feeling nothing but the warmth of the comforters on my skin and the instant sense of security that came over me. I allowed my eyes to close and my mind to drift away, and before I knew it, a prayer for Carlos came into my thoughts.

I prayed for strength for both him and me, for us. I knew that, whether we were on or off the track, we would need to find a way to get through whatever was to come.

Next Chapter: 04.

Thank you for your support in the previous chapter! Carlos will become a more present character in the future. Pinky promise. Don't abandon me until that happens, please! <3

[filmofhybe]

CHAPTER 6 : HE FOUND ME..

> pairing : Nishimura Riki x Female Reader

> genre : college student AU! , Pool Lifeguard AU! , smau , fluff

> warnings : SLOW BURN!! , swearing , bad humor jokes , kys jokes (die etc) , kissing , semi verbal bullying (no violence) , reader! injuring herself by accident , missing parent figure

> chapter synopsis : Niki couldn’t his jealousy towards heeseung. Him hanging out with y/n already hit him like a rock. So Niki decides to add y/n on her socials. As Niki compliments y/n recent post, Isabelle founds out causing jealousy to build up in her.

previous - next | masterlist

comment or reblog to ask be on the series taglist.

© filmofhybe on tumblr — do not copy , translate or share.

( I also just want to mention that this series is kinda slow burn, so if your not into slow burn or plot lines that can take a bit to develop than this story is probably not your cup of tea. But I do recommend checking out my other works if you want, enjoy!! )

587 words.

Niki’s pov:

I felt so angry when I saw Jake and Heeseung stories with y/n in them. Knowing that such a pretty girl is with 2 of your best looking friends hurts. Ugh imma go crazy over this girl.

I quickly followed her on all her social. Fuck I hope she doesn’t think I’m a stalker.. now I just have to wait till she follows me back. I walked downstairs to go get some water when I see Isabelle on my couch with my sisters. If I have to be honest with you Isabelle was a really sweet and pretty girl, always listen to my problems and overall a decent person. She’s moving to my college soon which is exciting, I just hope she gets along with my friends.

“Niki want to watch a movie with us?” Isabelle said softly. Making me turn around. “Sure but maybe just a few minutes I’m getting tired.” I walked over to the living room before sitting next to her. My eyes was focused on the movie when my phone lit up. Eyes widen at the notification, jumping off the sofa causing Isabelle to groan. “Fuck you niki I was comfortable laying down.” She held her head in pain. “I’m sorry I just need to go to bed.” It was late either ways.. before any of them could call me back I ran back up stairs.

I was just scrolling through twitter before coming across y/n recent post. God really put his time in creating such a beautiful girl. I liked her post and comment on it before turning on my tv.

The light from my phone caught my attention, grabbing it into my hand and I felt excitement take over my body and mind.

Y/N Y/L/N just followed me back. And replied to my comment.

y/n’s pov:

Jake, heeseung and my family were all sat in the living room doing whatever. I really miss these days where everyone would gather around almost every night before going back to their sweet home. I was zoning out from the conversation until I got a message from instagram, Twitter as well as tiktok.

instagram

nishimura.riki has followed you.

TikTok

dance.riki has followed you.

Twitter

nishimura.r1ki has followed you.

I clicked on his profile and scrolled through his feed. After clicking on some videos i finally realized it was the guy who caught me the week before term break. The scene still plays in my head till this day. I decided to text heeseung even though he’s literally in front of me but if I said it out loud, my whole family is gonna throw unnecessary questions at me.

I texted the group as well after I posted on twitter, didn’t expect Niki or the kids pool guy to comment on it.

Isabelle pov:

series taglist : @surefornext @spilled-coffee-cup @haechansgf @txtistheloml @skepvids @syuuji @oshakyao @haechansbbg

© filmofhybe on tumblr — do not copy , translate or share.

[bring-forth-your-justice]

Hiii !! I saw ur bsd request so if its okay can i request an Chuuya x reader where reader couldnt sleep tho they just went to the grocery store it was almost 3am but then they got attacked by an ennemy and chuuya saves them since reader is just a normal civil ♡♡

*Me deciding to write this at 1 am* I think I made this a little too comical at the start just cuz I’m laughing at my own inability to sleep… ever. The tone does shift slightly but overall it's not too jarring

I definitely took the request and ran with it so I hope it’s still to your liking even if it went in a slightly different direction anon!.

TW// Blood and violence

Word Count: 3.5k (yea idk why it became so long either)

Staring up at your darkened ceiling you wondered how the youtube video that prided itself in the title, “By the end of this video you’re guaranteed to be asleep!” failed in its one and only purpose. 

It was 3 am.

You had work tomorrow and you had counted about 137 sheep by now, not feeling any less tired than when you started. If anything you were getting antsier. You switched your sleeping position for the 30th time, hoping this one would change quite possibly anything about your current disposition. Yet, of course, nothing. 

So you got up, and in a fit of annoyance, you threw your teddy across the bedroom. You motioned to decapitate the other when you paused and recollected yourself. 

It was definitely the lack of sleep that was making you adapt your boyfriend’s mannerisms. 

His tendency to throw fits when things wouldn’t go his way was something you may have accidentally picked up. Realizing this, you hurriedly made the decision to go wash up and collect yourself before you began to copy his murderous stages in his fits. 

~~~~~~

You ended up wandering into your kitchen somehow. The lack of sleep was clearly affecting you because it felt as though you were periodically blacking out. While you showed some concern about this fact, you figured you would be fine when you got something in your system. Perhaps the hunger ate away at your capability to sleep peacefully.

The moonlight filtered into the room through the brief cracks in the blinds, creating subtle arrays. If only the tranquility of the room would aid in your endeavor to gain some respite.  

“Milk… yea… warm milk might do the trick.” You mumbled to yourself as you flicked on your kitchen lights and ushured out the dim moonlight. Trudging slowly towards your fridge you noticed the quaint roses that sat beautifully on the island. 

They were from your aforementioned boyfriend, Chuuya Nakahara. 

The previous comments regarding him would cause someone to have a mental image of a crazy, and possibly lethal, person. While they would be partially correct, he was more like a shouting pomeranian, a really sweet and loving one. He thought of you constantly and would check up frequently, especially since his work kept him away from you quite often. 

Actually, he had called around 1 am to make sure you had put away your work and gone to sleep. He really cared about you and truthfully it was endearing but you wished he worried about himself too. He was obviously calling you at 1 am so he wasn’t getting much sleep either. You brought up your concern to him softly. Turns out he was on a stakeout mission and would most likely be unable to sleep. 

Ironic, really. 

You weren’t doing anything and yet you couldn’t sleep either. Must’ve been a soulmate, string-tying-your-sleep-schedule-together thing. Next he comes over, you’re going to treat him to some princess-styled pampering. He really needs a break.

After adding some water to the rose pot, you returned to your previous mission. Just because you were in discomfort and dying internally did not mean the flowers deserved the same treatment.  

Opening the fridge you were greeted to the sight of nothing. 

There was no milk. 

And suddenly, you could really care less if you took after your boyfriend. 

~~~~~

With sleep deprivation fueling any and all organs in your body, you made your way to the local grocery store. You groaned slightly at the wind that tickled your body even though the light jacket you wore. It wasn’t cold by any means but the wind at the dark of night always felt sharper, as if warning everyone to be alert.

Chuuya always warned you against going outside at night. It was an obvious thing to be wary of, yet it was something deserving of more concern in Yokohama. 

The city itself was riddled with crime and destruction. It was especially dangerous for those without abilities of their own. With no method of self-defense, at night, the streets became wolves prowling around, hungry for their next victim. And oh were there a surplus of potential victims to be found in Yokohama. You just had to be careful to not be one of them. 

Typically, you would heed Chuuya’s warnings, he practically knew Yokohama’s underbelly like the back of his hand. But the grocery wasn’t too great of a distance away from your apartment, and the walk to it was already feeding into your senses; clearing your mind. You figured the recent stress from your work may have subconsciously been pricking at your ability to sleep. 

If you were quick about it, there really wouldn’t be any need for concern. Plus you were doing your best to be keenly aware of your surroundings. Any sound that echoed through the streets had you quickening your pace and checking yourself, particularly regarding the location of your wallet and phone. 

You would be fine, sure you had no ability but that didn’t mean you were stupid. If anything, living in a city like this had caused you to pick up some tricks here and there. 

Chuuya himself had a powerful ability, and sometimes you would be lying if you said you didn’t want one like it. With his ability, no one could really touch him, or you for that matter - should you be with him. 

Although he wasn’t particularly a fan of that idea. The thought of someone using you as a possible leverage against him left him in a cold sweat. That was the last thing he wanted; his position putting you in danger.

Thinking of your boyfriend’s constantly anxious character when it came to you made your mood shift to one a little more bitter. He’d lost enough in his life, he shouldn’t have to worry about you being another person he’d lose. You would make sure of that.

Your thoughts returned to your surroundings and your destination. You figured you could pick up some supplies to cook up something for Chuuya too while at the store. 

It was a win-win situation, you thought. And with that, plus a slight cheer in your step, you quickly made your way to the grocery. 

~~~~~~

‘All right, that should be it.’ You thought to yourself as you walked out of the mart. The wind was the same as before; scraping your cheek the moment you faced its direction. 

‘Tonight had no reason to be this cruel.’ 

It really was. 

An hour of sleep was all you asked for, and instead, you got handed a side mission to get food. But hopefully, it would be the last thing you needed to catch some sleep.

“Chuuya I hope you’re getting more sleep than me, even if it’s a power nap.” You mumbled into the night with your head facing the stars in fatigue. At the very least, you exhausted a lot of your energy, feeling more ready for sleep now than 2 hours ago. 

You traded the receipt in your hand with your apartment keys in your pocket. The small jingle they made was the only sound heard in the vacant parking lot of the grocery, even the register in the store was as silent as a ghost.   

That all-consuming silence did feel a bit odd. 

A chill went up your spine as you slowly registered the eeriness of the night. It was a feeling akin to being stuck at a graveyard at a time you knew you shouldn’t be there, or rather, you weren’t wanted there. 

“Um excuse me miss-” 

CLANG

The groceries you held were scattered on the ground, some rolling a brief distance before stopping. The voice of the employee had left you a bit more than just ‘frightened’. Perhaps the fact you were so vulnerable was playing up your nerves to a degree you couldn’t possibly calm them; thus, resulting in your current predicament.  

Still shaken from the sudden appearance of the employee, you bent down to grab the dropped products. You noticed another hand helping you; it was the employee. 

“Ha, you’re lucky there wasn’t any glass in there huh-” He seemed young, maybe around your age. He appeared energetic, even in the dead of night with presumably no sleep. He was the only one working the night shift too, you truly sympathized.

“Y-yea, looks like that’s the only lucky thing to happen tonight..”

“My apologies for startling you miss, that wasn’t exactly my intention.” He handed you the last product which you promptly put back in your bag, awkwardly shifting away in an attempt to end the conversation and go home. It felt as though you had already lost two lives in that scare alone, you might as well run home now and preserve the last one. 

Besides, the fact that the boy had snuck up on you without making a single sound in the already stilled night was a tad unnerving. 

“You seem really tense miss, something wrong?” He seemed to shift closer to you, possibly in concern. Yet, the dullness in his eyes had your hand twitching; the jingle of your keys serving as a reminder of where you had to be.

“Ah- you know it's just late and I don’t think anyone could particularly say being alone at night is something you can do while being carefree. Um was there something-”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Uh- what does-”

“Where is he?”

“H-huh..?” 

Your heartbeat filled the void left by the lack of noise in the night. Suddenly, you weren’t just shaking because of the salient winds. 

There was a swift motion in front of you; blurred by your panicked eyes and the speed at which it took place. He stood there, more or less emotionless, whereas your eyes were as wide as plates, staring back at him in horror.

“UCK-!!”   

You dropped down to your knees, clutching your stomach. That warm feeling that filtered out from your body left you cold; the sound of your heartbeat slowly disorienting you.

It was blood, you were bleeding. 

The boy threw a dagger your way, so fast you had no time to process what he had done. If you were shaking before, you were certainly incapable of stability in your current condition. You weren't even sure if you were capable of vocalizing a coherent sentence right now; your voice felt like a dimmed candle, barely heating its radius.

“Wh…wh-y..” You managed to croak out, wincing at the pain simply talking caused you. 

“Eye for an eye. Isn’t that how it works?” His head shifted its weight onto one side as if he was questioning you. Yet there was barely any sign of human emotion in his eyes. He began walking towards you, the sounds of his steps echoing in the barren lot. 

You couldn’t move your head up to look at him, so you had to settle for the sight of his feet making their way over to you. 

‘Badum Badum Badum’

If he didn’t finish you first, your incessant heartbeat would. 

Even with your eyes a little clouded, they stayed locked on the feet of the boy who appeared less lethal than he was. His feet stopped before you. The feeling of his ominously desolate eyes staring you down wasn’t something you could miss. With fear locking you into place, you couldn’t move to look him in the eyes. 

It was then he knelt down to look you in the eyes instead. Being able to fully inspect him now, you realized, his eyes weren’t dull. 

No not at all.

They were simply so full, full of unbridled fury that it was hard to pinpoint anything else in his eyes. That far-off look was just a mask for whatever he held underneath. And what was held underneath was hatred, and for you, it seemed. 

“Quite the catch you got. That boyfriend of yours I mean.” He brought a second dagger next to your cheek. The tip threatened to cut you should you move, and with how much you were shaking, it had already pricked you.

“That Port Mafia bitch cut down my brother not long back, and the law of equivalent exchange states that to obtain something, something of equal value must be lost. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if I followed through with what he started.”

Ah yes, the Port Mafia. 

It was hard to ignore what Chuuya did, who he had to cut down, and how his actions affected others. After all, you considered his sins to be yours the moment you gave your heart to him. His work wasn’t something you couldn’t change about him, it was something you accepted was a part of him. You loved Chuuya, he was deserving of your love. And so, you were willing to pay for any sins he committed, because, at the end of the day, you wanted him to have peace...

“Being an assassin has its perks you know. I’ve been silently watching you and waiting for this perfect moment. Once you’re dead, I’ll give him your body in the same condition my brother’s- URK-!”   

...But for Chuuya to have peace, you knew you couldn’t die. 

Mustering all the strength in your body, you swung your keys at him as fast as you could. The keys left a gash on his neck, one which he was clutching with his hands now. The only opportunity you would have to escape with his hands now preoccupied.

You quickly made space between the two of you and ran as fast as you could, stumbling slightly as you got up. The groceries were discarded the moment you got up, they would only slow you down. 

Your pace was bad and your vision was even worse. 

You knew he would find you if you even tried running off in the direction of your home. Although an alleyway was the worst place to go, it was the only place that was close in proximity and provided coverage from the streetlights. 

There was no way you could run anymore. You’d lost enough blood by the time you found an obscure corner to slump down on in the alleyway. The dagger was the only thing holding back the rest of your blood from escaping your body, and it still wasn’t enough. 

The heartbeat in your ears dimmed down to the point you could finally hear the quiet of the night, but you weren’t sure that that was a good sign. Your hands felt cold and weak, but still, you moved to grab your phone from your pocket and called the only person you thought could save you.

“Ch-chu..ya..” 

The ringer continued to resonate in your ear. Not knowing how long your hand would have the strength to hold onto the phone, you prayed he would pick up soon. 

Your hope of him being with you seemed to dwindle with each ring, until finally, a sound. 

“Y/N-!”

Although you could barely move or feel anything, your head still turned to that warm voice you knew and loved. With the phone still ringing for him, there he was, running to you. You weren’t sure if the lack of blood was making you see things too, but you really hoped that was him, even if it felt impossible.

“Chuuya… y-you came..” He got to you in the blink of an eye. Particularly since your blinks were becoming just as slurred as your voice. You felt his arms wrap around you, gently lifting you up off the ground. 

“Of course I would- Hold on, shit-! I’m so sorry, let’s get you patched up quick, just- just hold on okay?! Please, please..”

“Don’t… worry.. I won’t .. leave you..” Before you lost consciousness, you felt his lips graze the top of your head, alongside a drop of what felt like rain. 

His grip on you tightened as you let go of your consciousness. 

You were in safe hands now so you could finally rest easy.

~~~~~~~ 

When you next awoke, it was to the sound of repeated beeps and the hushed murmurs of nearby staff. It was the hospital. Your head turned to look at the heartbeat monitor which had wires that trailed back to your body.

‘Well that explains the beeping- good to know I’m alive at least.’ 

While the beeping was the first thing you took note of, you paid extra attention to the red-headed man resting his head in the space next to your legs. 

‘Looks like it wasn’t a dream then..’ You reflected as you hung your head back, snug against the pillow. 

Truthfully, when Chuuya appeared before you, you’d thought you were seeing things. After all, you had just called him seconds prior, but here he was, resting rather peacefully next to you. 

So he had come for you. 

The moment you attempted to move your torso in order to reach him, an excruciating electrical current shot through you, forcing you back to your original position. Your shuffling woke up your resting visitor as you continued to wince in pain. 

“Y-y/n-! Let me go get the nurse-” Chuuya shot up, as though he wasn’t just resting just seconds ago. Even through your hazy gaze the panic and frustration on his face was something even a blind person could see. 

It had been some time since you had last seen him this way, and you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness. He was panicked.

 “Chuuya wait! Please stay..” You spoke breathlessly, it felt as though you were slowly drained of all your energy the moment you awoke.

You tried to move your hand to grab him, but all you could muster was a hapless imitation. He stopped before he could grab the door and carefully, he turned back to face you. His eyes were flushed and his head lacked that oh-so-familiar fedora, so his hair ended up appearing messier than it would look any other day. 

Least to say, he looked as well-put together like a bride whose wedding plans all fell short. 

Even if it hurt, you chuckled anyway. A soft smile played on your lips as Chuuya nimbly took his place next to you, hesitant to make eye contact. This was the most quiet you’d seen Chuuya since the day he drank so much wine that he was passed out for a whole day. And again, you laughed, not letting your abdomen’s current condition restrain you. 

Now Chuuya was looking at you like you had grown another head. At that, you tried to collect yourself and finally speak to him.

“Chuu listen, I know you probably think what happened was your fault, but don’t blame yourself ok..? Look at me right now- I’m still alive, a little bruised up- but fine!” 

He looked as though he was angry, but you knew better. He was in pain. He was regretting everything and recalling every mistake that led to this outcome. 

Your eyebrows unconciously knit themselves together in disquitude. You turned your gaze away from him momentarily, reflecting, while he continued to stare at your absurdly white bed sheets. 

After a pause, you starting again. This time, more somber and raw in your tone.

“Thanks for saving me… I… I don’t know what would’ve happened had you not come in time- I mean I think I held up well enough right?” You turned back to him nervously chuckling. 

The air in the room was becoming more thick with the words Chuuya couldn’t say. The wait was intense but you just wanted him to say something. If anything, to know he was okay too. 

“It- I… I was done the mission.. I was going to come over to check up on you when I saw what the bastard had done … and I saw you running- I’m not done with him yet, he’ll get what he dished out tenfold but-” Chuuya paused. His head tilted up to finally meet your eyes. 

“I’m sorry..” 

He mouthed some words but each one was held back as if he was unable to pick what he wanted to say most. So you began to say what you knew you had to express.

“Truthfully, Chuuya- I.. I was so scared. Everything feels like a haze right now because it felt like a horrible nightmare. I don’t want to think about it because I know if I do, I won’t stop shaking..” And now, your hand was quivering at the thought of the night prior. Chuuya’s gaze fell to your hands which he swiftly wrapped in his own, protecting them from everything that plagued your mind. 

“...I’m still scared… but I feel safe with you by me. I wasn’t going to let him take me down with him… because I want to be with you from now until forever.” 

Coming so close to death, you knew the words a person had to say before they regretted not saying them at all. It was better to express every weakness and strength, emotion and secret before everything fell down and all you were left with was the words you held tightly on the tip of your tongue.  

When Chuuya came and held you again, careful not to touch your wounds, the two of you took solace in the beating hearts of the other. Chuuya was scared to lose you, you could tell as much from his embrace. 

“I’ll always come for you.. I’ll always come and protect you. I promise that with everything I am.” 

And if he could read your touch - and you certainly wish he could - it would speak volumes of your love and trust for him. But most importantly, it would tell him; 

‘I’m not going anywhere.’

[q-gorgeous]

They Had Been Afraid of Their Own Parents This Whole Time

fanfiction

ao3

word count: 1346

The Fenton Parents are the best parents in the world, but even they've noticed how much their kids have changed since the Portal activated. At first they think it's their logical fear of the ghosts that now attack Amity and they redouble their efforts to create weapons and defenses to keep their kids safe. But it only seems to make their kids grow more distant and Danny. Danny looks downright -terrified- at some of their weapons. It's not until one of their kids throws themselves between the Drs Fenton and a ghost that the Fentons realize--it's -them- their kids are scared of. @akela-nakamura

more fic wooooo

Jack and Maddie Fenton always prided themselves in being the best parents they could be. 

They had always encouraged their kids' interests. They were well aware that their own interests seemed a bit eccentric to most people, so they wanted to give their own children undivided support when it came to the things they were interested in or wanted to do. 

Jazz had always loved learning about how the mind worked. She’s been a bright young girl from an early age and once Jack and Maddie started noticing how many times Jazz would check out certain psychology textbooks from the public library, they eventually bought her her own copies. 

And Danny. Danny had the brightest imagination. He was always reaching for the stars, quite literally. He wanted to be an astronaut someday. They bought anything space related that he wanted. Glow in the dark stars, model rockets, posters. He decorated his entire room with it all. It was what he dreamed of, to be able to be among the stars. 

But something was different now. Danny didn’t seem to be as interested in becoming an astronaut, if his grades were anything to go by. Becoming an astronaut took a lot of knowledge and book smarts and it was something Danny seemed to lack these days. He was always skipping class, missing assignments. It was like he didn’t care anymore. 

Ever since the portal turned on he was different. They knew he was down there for some reason when the portal miraculously turned on one day. It had given him quite the electric shock. They’d taken him to the hospital to make sure he was okay but the doctor said he was perfectly healthy. But still, something had changed with Danny that day. They just didn’t know what that was. 

Then the ghosts appeared. With every ghost that came through the portal, Danny had a new excuse about why he couldn’t go with his parents to capture it, or why he didn’t want to be in the lab when they were doing experiments. He even avoided all mentions of ghosts that he could. There could only be one thing wrong.

Their son was afraid of ghosts. As he should be! Ghosts were very dangerous, especially to people who could be easily manipulated, like teenagers. 

One prime example of a ghost coming to Amity Park that targeted teenagers was that Ember Mcclain girl. Danny was lucky to not have fallen for her ploy, but Jazz did. For all of Jazz’s smarts, she was still tricked by a ghost. 

So Jack and Maddie had to protect them. They needed to do everything in their power to keep their kids safe from ghosts. 

They spent day and night building new weapons and defenses. With the ever increasing ghost problem, it was necessary. 

They’d take their new inventions up to the dinner table with them and proudly show them to Danny and Jazz. At first, Jazz would roll her eyes. She never believed in ghosts herself. Not until she had a close call with one at the school. Now, Jazz looked just as terrified as Danny. But they didn’t have to be afraid anymore. Not when Jack and Maddie could make whatever they needed to take down, capture, and defeat the ghosts. 

That’s when the real fun would begin. Once they captured the ghosts, they had an extraordinary opportunity to study it. They planned on doing experiments, examinations, all sorts of things. This would be what would help spur their research on. 

But no matter how much Jack and Maddie tried to comfort their kids, they still looked terrified. But that was okay. Being afraid of the ghosts would protect them. 

Especially Phantom. He flew around and pretended to save the town, pretending that he was the good guy. But he caused just as much damage as the other ghosts and he had even committed crimes! He stole from a jewelry store and attacked the mayor! This ghost’s expert manipulation didn’t work on Jack and Maddie. His near perfect mimicry just made him the perfect ghost to capture and examine. They wanted to see his insides, what made him tick, how long he would keep up his charades. 

Phantom was too good at tricking them. Even their kids, who were terrified of ghosts, were fans of Phantom. Jazz was even going as far as to start arguments with Jack and Maddie about him. Telling them that they just needed to give him a chance. They should have an actual conversation with a ghost, maybe they would learn something. She was so convinced that what he put on display for the town to see was genuine. 

Not long after this, Danny and Jazz became more distant. They could tell that they were upset that they couldn’t sway their parents' views. They eventually stopped arguing, but they also stopped coming to breakfast and dinner. They’d make excuses for why they couldn’t eat at the table or why they wouldn’t be home that night. 

It infuriated them. Phantom had put such a rift into their family. How? What could he have possibly done to convince Danny and Jazz that their parents were in the wrong?

It wasn’t until a day far after that that they finally understood. 

Phantom was fighting a ghost in the middle of the football field. He’d been fighting for a while already when Jack and Maddie had arrived and they could tell he was getting tired. The ghost he was fighting hit him and it sent him flying through the air. He landed on the ground in front of Jack and Maddie. They trained their weapons on him, preparing to shoot. 

This was their chance. They finally had him. They were going to tear him apart molecule by molecule and prove to their kids that there was no exception to ghosts being evil. Phantom was not some kind of good ghost. He was just playing a part. 

They were ready to pull the trigger when they heard a shout. 

Running from behind the bleachers was Jazz. She had a panicked look on her face. It was the most scared they’d ever seen her. 

She ran and planted herself in front of Phantom, her arms splayed out wide to put as much of a barrier in between them as she could. What was she doing? Why was she protecting this dangerous ghost?

But then they saw the fear on her face. She was standing closer to Phantom than she was to them. She wasn’t afraid of Phantom. She felt the need to protect him. What was she afraid of?

Jazz’s eyes flicked down to their weapons and then back up to their eyes. It hit them like a train.

Jazz was afraid of them. 

What had happened to make Jazz afraid of her own parents? Why was she afraid of them? Was this some new ghostly ability that Phantom had? The ability to manipulate their emotions? 

But then Phantom groaned and placed a hand over his stomach where a wound was seeping ectoplasm. A bright ring appeared around his waist and they charged their weapons, the ecto-guns they held in their hands whining. This wasn’t something they’ve seen Phantom do before. What was happening? What was this new ability?

They could see as Phantom tried to hold it back. The rings kept splitting, merging back together, and disappearing over and over again. They watched as Phantom seemed to give up, the fight left his body. He leaned against the back of Jazz’s legs and it seemed like he passed out. The rings finally appeared again. They separated and passed over his body and Jack and Maddie were stunned to see what was left behind. 

Their son sat bleeding out in the middle of the football field. Jazz still looked ready to hold her ground against them. Their weapons clattered to the ground. 

Their son was a ghost. Danny was Phantom. Jazz and Danny hadn’t ever been afraid of ghosts. No. 

They had been afraid of their own parents all this time.