#Maybe not on a depressing new year's eve

[rockingtheorange]

Sequel means we'll get promotion during pride month 😃🏳️‍🌈

[mrd-gvf]

Anyone else just passing time to get to the new year? Like I’m not partying or anything. I just want it over with

[asheanon]

You know, thinking about it... 🤔 (I keep seeing New Year character posts on the dash and figured I'd throw a little one in too.~)

For my gang, I like to imagine them all celebrating the New Year as most any other gang would! 🎆🥂

But then, you have that deep, profound sadness lurking "in the corner" for Sal and she constantly tries to "not make eye contact" with it.

She's just one of those characters, man... As much as she keeps the brooding to herself, she's still long lived - classic case of long-lived character fraternizing with short-lived characters, watching them grow older another year, trying not to feel that divide between them...

Outwardly, it be like:

Inwardly, it be like:

Only once in a while, though! It's mostly good fun - like, 95% good fun! 🕺 (It's like trying not to let the existential crisis set in on the daily - always there, always looming - but the distractions and positive experiences + vibes overshadow it!)

[xoshepard]

the past 2 times i’ve gone home i was an emotional wreck and it’s looking like this time will be the same and i almost wish i could just stay put. i’m so tired and i’m so tired of being so depressed and crying and whatever when i’m home i just want to feel better

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Them saying someone elses name during sex TW: AFAB Reader, 18+ MDNI, ANGST

Adam

You knew that sleeping with Adam was a risk, yet you were so in love with the man that you didn't dare refuse the offer.

His dick was divine, and the way he worshiped your body was even better.

However, you never realized that he paid such special attention to you and your needs in bed because of how much you resembled Eve.

You weren't her carbon copy by no means, but your pussy, smell, and voice were a damn close match for Adam.

As he was balls deep in you, pounding you relentlessly, it's when it happened.

A soft whine left your throat at how good he was kissing your cervix with his angry red tip when the faint 'Yes, Eve...I know you like it...' was heard.

He hadn't caught what he had said, yet you heard it clear as day, and your world shattered.

All the nights, he slept with you, not because he loved you how you loved him, but because he was trying to have a moment with Eve that he would never have again.

The following day you tried to talk about it with him, tears stained your eyes, and you shook from the sobs as he coldly reminded you that you were only a fuck, nothing more.

Your nightly visits became less and less, the ones you did have he unashamedly would moan out for Eve while he fucked you.

Eventually, you were just another woman, a notch in his bedpost as he looked for the next replacement for Eve.

Alastor

You knew all sexual interactions with him were just for steam release and nothing more. Alastor was Asexual and only seemed to seek you out for a quick get it out of my system moment.

You wouldn't lie that you felt special; he always chose you, excitement coursing through your veins when he was a little snappier and colder to others, signaling his time of need.

However, you never expected to have your whole world flipped upside down as he fucked you one night.

He had your knees to your chest as he rammed into you, making you scream and cry in blissful pain.

He was larger than any man you had been with, and this was what you craved for months that no sex worker or toy could do for you.

Yet when the words 'Oh fuck Liz, just like that' left his lips, you froze, your whole body clamming up.

He quickly realized his mistake, the walls he let down around you, and the session ended.

For weeks, you two never talked about anything that happened, and you wallowed in limbo.

You knew sex for him was just a release, yet you wouldn't lie. You fantasized about being romantic with him. Maybe that is why another woman's name from his lips hurt so badly.

When his next need arose, he called on you again, but things were awkward; he was stiff and just working you to get his own pleasure, and you were well there.

You tried to talk about what happened after he had his fill, yet he shut you out and asked you to leave, or else this would never happen again.

Lucifer

You witnessed the day Lilith left Lucifer and Charlie. It was horrible and painful, to say the least. As the one to pick up the pieces, you also became the best friend who fell in love with him.

You kept your feelings to yourself, knowing he needed time to heal and process what Lilith had done to him and his child.

However, when Charlie invited you to the hotel, it was a grand occasion and allowed you space from Lucifer so you wouldn't breach that boundary.

Only half a year after joining the hotel, he looked like a different man. He was no longer depressed and obsessed with ducks, and he was so much more handsome.

It didn't take long for the looks and touches to escalate to you riding his cock in the luxury bed that he conjured in the new hotel.

The battle, having almost taken your life, led you to believe Lucifer realized how much he loved you for what you did for him and Charlie.

However, as you moaned out again when the tip of his white cock brushed your G spot, you heard his moan too.

He grunted deeply, his hands holding your hips. 'Fuck Lilith, ride me so good, baby'

Quickly, you hopped off of him, and like lightning struck, Lucifer realized what had happened. Apologies after the apology had left his lips, but nothing mattered to you.

You avoided Lucifer like the plague; eventually, the whole hotel noticed. Even though he was heartbroken to lose his friend, he couldn't deny his love for Lilith.

It could have been more productive when Charlie finally convinced you two to sit down and talk. It was only filled with you asking why he would sleep with you, knowing you cared for him, and him simply sitting in guilty silence.

Not too long after, you left the hotel and were never heard from again as you reclused to avoid the sting of always being the other woman.

Husk

It was hard to get in Husk's bed, and he wouldn't deny that he had some underlying feelings for you. He also knew you; you were as hopelessly in love with him as he was with someone else.

He hated using you, but he convinced himself he could be a better man and make himself love you and care for you.

He treated your body right each night he brought you to his bedroom, from sensual make-outs to hours between your thighs.

However, as the rouse continued, he almost convinced himself he finally began to love you how you loved him, yet he was dead wrong.

You were on your hands and knees before him, back arched beautifully, and your moans muffled by the soft pillows.

When it happened, you were begging so nicely for more of him to be filled to the brim with his kits.

As he came deep inside your gummy walls, he let out, "Fuck, Angel feels so good in you," and your high was quickly erased.

Husk realized immediately, even while drunk, what had happened. Sorry's, and let me explain, left his mouth as you looked at him and yourself with disgust.

You know the two had a thing for one another, but due to their contracts, they were separated. A pitiful laugh left your mouth as you gathered your clothes and did the walk of shame.

As you made it back to your room in the hotel, you saw Angel, and though you cared for the sex worker, you couldn't help the venom that left your voice when he asked what had happened to you.

You just hope when the two finally fuck, Husk remembers what he did to you and hurts as badly as he hurt you.

Vox

Vox was a man of carnal pleasure, and he was known to get around; his only consistent sex partner was Val, but when things went south between them, it was rough.

You happened to stumble into the world of the Vees around that time, and Vox took a special interest in you and what you could offer.

At first, for you, the sex was transactional, your safety and protection for the price of being dicked down by the overlord of cyber security.

However, it grew to be more over the years, and you wanted it to be more than just a quick fuck or a rough session.

When you propositioned a more sensual night, Vox relented, seeing as it had been years of using you for his pleasure, and he was sure he would be fine.

However, as the night progressed and he languidly slid in and out of your frothy tight hole, he began to lose himself.

As you came over and over from his hands and cock you couldn't help but feel something was off with Vox; he usually was aggressive, and even though you asked for something more sensual, you figured he would cave by now.

However when you looked over your shoulder and saw the blue 'Fuck I miss you Val' screen on his face you felt your whole mood shift.

He wanted Val and always had; you were just the convenient dumb fuck that appeared right when he needed you.

Vox doesn't remember most of that night or when you became so cold about having sex with him. You went from excited to barely caring.

He also had no idea what possessed you to suddenly seek out Valentino's or Velvette's beds. He was shocked that you willingly stopped being his personal toy so blatantly.

It hurt him, but he would never know how badly he had hurt you.

Prompt assistance: @literallurker

[updatingranboo]

ranboo tweet... uh

["This was such a good joke and I am appalled by the fact that it has not gone absolutely bonkers viral. I mean is comedy dead? I just dont understand how a regular human being can read the word "Greans" (A combination of green and jeans) followed by an image of, well, green jeans, and not absolutely evacuate themselves in laughter.

I believe this has something to do with the fact that comedy as we know it is dying. It has become too mainstream in todays media and that is the main problem. Gone are the days where silly little guys in their silly little hop hats are able to go "knock knock" and absolutely change the world. Nowadays you have to have so many things that go into a joke for it to remotely even be funny, setup, punchline the whole ordeal. Whatever happened to just a simple Practicality joke? Whatever happened to just being able to slap someone and be the headlining act?

The world is so full of so called "comedians" these days it makes me sick. All these people do is spend hours writing and practicing their act in order to try and sway an audience to have a good time listening to their words. For SHAME! Comedy used to be just two people on a stage just slapping eachother and going "knock knock" for twenty hours. Whatever happened to the good ol days where people just laughed at whatever someone said because their brain hadnt fully developed?

This is why I believe that I am going to start performing my comedy acts to a bunch of babies. An absolute hoard of newborns. I will make my jokes to them and they will laugh for they truly understand what humor should be. I will go to a hospital in that little room they have where it is very easy to switch said babies and cause a bit of a ruckus, but instead of doing that (very funny joke) I will simply perform for them and relish in their cheers and guffaws.

It is sad that one has to turn to performing to just babies in order for the world to understand the complexity of ones said humor, but alas if its what I must do its what I must do. Maybe one day we will revert back to absolute comedy anarchy, where the chicken has not yet crossed the road, but until then I will continue to strive and push forward in this dark age of comedy.

Maybe a complete reset of what we find funny is in order, maybe we have lost what humor once was for us. We obviously have considering my VERY FUNNY TWEET does not have a bazillion likes and has not spun off at least 30 million movie deals. (Please note that this joke is satire, and Ranboo stands in solidarity with the SAG-AFTRA strikes. Support actors and writers. -A message from Ranboo)

I spent time and effort making this tweet, I saw the green jeans in front of my eyes (which are very squishy) and my neurons fired and made this absolute gem of a joke. I was excited to share it with the world, I tweeted it nearly right after I saw it, excited to see what new adventures this tweet could bring me. I went to bed all cozy smiling like a child on christmas eve night, excited for the morning. When I woke I turned to check my phone instantly, my eyes racing to see the like total. What would it be? 500k? A million? I was surprised that my dms hadnt blown up with a personal message from every billionaire going "let me give you all of my money I can never make anything as good as your "Greans" tweet" but It must have been a glitch.

I was appalled to see that my tweet had only 30K??? 30K for the pinnacle of all of human achievement? A slap in the face of innovation is what it felt like. Like when that thomas edison guy ate a stolen lightbulb or something idk what he did really but I remember the person who made that lightbulb which he ate probably felt really sad and I felt really sad so I felt a deep connection with that person.

I quickly fell into a great depression, this is what all of my life had lead up to: one sad tweet. I didnt see the outside for years because of this tweet. I thought to myself "why would they do this?", "Isnt humanity supposed to be kind, supportive, and have a sense of humor when it comes to differently colored jean jokes?" (dcjj as I call them), and "Man I should probably have a burger" (I did) (very yummy) but as I ate my burger all I could taste were my TEARS as I chomped into it from the top down. It felt like I couldnt do anything right. Until thats when it hit me.

Im not the problem, EVERYONE ELSE IS! My humor isnt "bad" or "unfunny" or "makes me want to find a microwave and cause it to malfunction so I either become the hulk or die" (Please do not try this. -Another Ranboo message) It has to be that simply I am so far ahead in the world when it comes to comedy that my time has simply just not yet come! My jokes will be funny to a different generation, which will be frowned upon at first but I will quickly be welcomed with open arms, and told that I am an innovator, a true scholar of all that is funny.

And so I wait for that day. I wait for the day that people look back on my Greans tweet and realize, that without a doubt that it is the funniest thing that they have ever seen. The problem is not with my joke, the problem is with the world, and thats what makes humanity beautiful, is that it evolves, it changes, it doesnt stick to its mindset that a tweet that has the word "Greans" followed by a pair of green jeans doesnt get a BAZILLION LIKES! I wait for that day, and for those of you who are with me, I hope you wait patiently as well. Stay strong."]

[andreafmn]

Speak | Chapter 9

Word Count: 3.6K Story Description: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf. Chapter: 9/? A/N: one day I'll upload early, y'all. but I am truly trying to keep to the schedule I posted, as hard as it is. But thank you for bearing with me. You guys have no idea how much it means to me 🥰🤍 My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing or buy me a coffee TikTok • Instagram • Business | MASTERLIST If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!  Taglists for Twilight get filled quick and Tumblr only lets me tag up to a certain point. Notifications are your best bet.

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Chapter 9

The Swan sisters had been raised with a misconstrued idea that the new year meant a fresh start, a clean slate. That it could magically erase any and all afflictions the year before had caused. That it truly was the first page of a new chapter.

And maybe that’s all that (Y/N) was hoping for that New Year’s Eve. That the coming year would be the first page of her new chapter in Forks. That whatever was happening with Paul would die that December night. That Bella would finally turn over a new leaf and forget Edward. That she could move forward with her relationship with Jake.

Because that’s what she wanted.

That’s what she had always wanted.

The thing she most needed was to get over whatever fluke it was that had made its way into her life. Whatever breach into her timeline that had decided to make her heart flutter out the sound of someone else’s name. It had been too sudden and unexplainable to not be a mistake.

Paul Lahote had no business settling into her heart in the way he had, and she would stop at nothing to pluck him as quickly as he had attached himself. Even if she looked forward to seeing him in her dreams at night, even if her heart skipped a beat at the mere thought of him, even if all she wanted was to get as close to him as possible.

(Y/N) wanted —at least she thought she wanted— to go back to being excited that Jacob had finally set his sights on her. She wanted the same thrill she got about Paul with Jake. He had been the crush that had withstood the trials of time. It could not be trampled over by a guy she barely knew.

Yet, she could not stop thinking how his favorite color was red, how he moved to La Push after his parent’s divorced when he was eight, how he didn’t remember much of his mother even though he had been old enough to, how he had never been in love but desperately wanted to know what it felt like. (Y/N) could not stop picturing the way his eyes would shine under the warm glow of the setting sun, how his smile would grow as he listened intently to every word she spoke. Nor could she shake off the feeling of his warm skin against hers, how soft his hands had felt where she believed they’d be rough and calloused. He was everything and nothing like she had thought, but she knew that was as far as she could go to know him.

“Well, don’t you look mighty nice?” Charlie’s voice broke his daughter out of thought. “I think you’ve been to more bonfires this month than I have been to in years. People might start forgetting the sheriff’s face around there.”

“I doubt that’s even possible, dad,” she chuckled, smoothing over a piece of hair that had been unruly for the better part of the day. “Really wish you could join us, though. Since Bella won’t be making it out there, I wanted a Swan there for moral support.”

“This about that Paul fella?”

The question took (Y/N) aback. She had thought no one but Jake knew about that whole fiasco, and she was certain he had not said anything to her dad. “How do you…?” she stammered.

“Bella muttered a thing or two about him. Said he was the one you had been with the other night,” her father said. “Something happen with you and Jake?”

“Nothing happened,” she muttered. “I’m just making new friends seeing as my stay in Forks might be longer than anticipated.”

“Well, that’s a good idea. Just be careful of the people you keep in your company.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Jake might have mentioned this Paul Lahote character is not the greatest influence,” Charlie added. “He thinks he might not have the purest of intentions with you, (Y/N). I just don’t wanna see you get hurt.”  

“Well, I can tell you right now that you have nothing to worry about,” (Y/N) smiled comfortingly.  The last thing she wanted was for her father to worry about her when his other daughter was still no more than a statue in their home.  “I have only hung out with him that one time and I don’t think it’ll happen again. But thanks for checking in.”

“Just wanna make sure your transition back here is as smooth as possible, kiddo,” he responded warmly. “I know it’s gonna be hard to settle back here after being with your mom for so long. Forks might be a bit slow but it’s truly home.”

“I’m actually excited about staying. Even if it wasn’t the plan originally, there’s something about this town that’s just begging for me to stay,” she confessed. “Even if I came to help with Bella, I’m glad I decided to stay. It will also keep mom from taking us both back to Florida —at least for a while.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” The older Swan said before she nodded in response. “I’m just glad you two wanted to spend time with your old man. Even if I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“You’re doing good, dad,” (Y/N) chuckled. “I will say you got the shortest end of the stick having to be the one dealing with this breakup but I know you’re doing the absolute best you can. Hopefully, this new year brings us all the fresh start we so desperately need.”

“I hope so too, kiddo,” he sighed in defeat. “But have fun tonight, (Y/N), and make good choices.”

“Have I ever done anything else?”

“Very funny, kid,” Charlie chuckled. “Well, I’m off to work. I’ll probably not be here yet when you get back, so happy new year, (Y/N). And have fun.”

“Happy New Year, dad.”

Everything in Forks seemed to move at a punishingly fast pace, even if at times it felt like the town was stuck in time. But (Y/N) had been there almost four weeks which had already felt like a lifetime.

In comparison to living with Phil and her mother, in the midst of travel and adventures that she had loved for a time, (Y/N) had forgotten the calmness of remaining stagnant, of going to sleep and waking in the same home. She had forgotten what walking the halls of a school felt like, of having a group of friends that lasted more than a year.

Forks would give her that opportunity, or at least she hoped it would. The town had already started to change her and given her more than she could’ve hoped for. And that night she truly believed would set everything in the correct motion. Everything she had wished for with no more flukes.

An hour later and from the street she heard the honk of a horn. She gave herself a once over, not feeling completely comfortable with the way she looked that night. In part, she felt it was merely the nerves of seeing Jacob after the altercation with Paul.

But there was another part, the bigger part, that knew it was because of Paul. There was a calming thrill to him that she couldn’t explain. Even the juxtaposition of the thought made no sense to her. As much as she wanted to stay away from him, she wanted to get closer. It scared and excited her all at once.

Yet, the person that was waiting for her was not him. It was Jake, waiting impatiently behind the wheel of his truck.

“What took you so long?” Jacob grumbled as (Y/N) got into the car. “We’re already late as it is.”

“Sorry, Jake. I couldn’t find my jacket.”

“It’s fine, (Y/N). It’s just that Quil came back from his trip, and I wanted to catch up with him before school starts,” he said. “I also haven’t seen Embry since last weekend since he was with his mom visiting some family.”  

“Yeah, I get that,” (Y/N) responded meekly, sinking into her seat. “At least we have the rest of the night to hang out with them.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he smiled forcefully. “What about Bella? Is she not coming?”

“No,” she said through gritted teeth. “She wasn’t up to coming. Still bummed about this Edward guy.”

“What a shame,” Jake sighed. “Being around people would be good for her.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she mumbled. “But I can’t really force her. This guy did a number on her and nothing dad and I are doing is working. I’ve even decided to…”

“Maybe you guys don’t know her as well as you thought,” he blurted. “I mean, no offense but she’s not the same girl that left Arizona. She’s not even the same girl that came to Forks.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t help her, Jake. And that’s what we have been doing this whole time. Still, we can’t help someone that doesn’t want to help themselves.”

“I’m not trying to start a fight, (Y/N),” he grumbled. “I’m just saying that  maybe your efforts have not worked because she’s not the same Bella you knew.”

The girl remained quiet, anger filling her body instantly. Bella remained a sore subject in the new relationship, always being brought up by Jacob, reminding (Y/N) that he had liked her sister first –and, deep down, she knew he probably still did. Still, wanted to remain in the delusion that he had chosen her for as long as she could.

“It’s fine. Let’s just drop this, okay?” (Y/N) pleaded. “I just want to enjoy tonight. Please.”

“Alright, yeah. Whatever.”

The rest of the ride went by in silence, a heavy tension filling the air and suffocating her. At that moment, more than ever before in her life, she needed to believe that the new year was truly a fresh start. A new beginning for her sister, a new beginning for her relationship, and a new beginning for her life in Forks.

As soon as the truck rolled to a stop, Jake was out of the car and heading to the beach, mumbling something to (Y/N) that he was gonna see his friends and that he’d catch up to her soon enough. Then, he left her in between the small sea of cars that lined the border of the beach.

The younger Swan was left dumbfounded, completely perplexed at Jake’s reaction. His outburst had made her feel small and unwanted. And as she stood frozen at her spot, watching the community celebrate before her, she wondered if there was any reason for her to be there. Because maybe the best thing she could do, for everyone, was leave.

“I’m glad you came, (Y/N),” a voice startled her. “You look beautiful tonight.”

“Paul, hi,” she blushed, looking down at the black jumpsuit she wore under a white coat. “Thank you. You look great too. Especially with my sweater.”

“Oh, it was cold tonight and it was the first thing I grabbed,” he chuckled. “I promise I was gonna bring it back to you, not use it like it was mine.”

“Honestly, it looks better on you than it does me. Sometimes I feel like I drown in it.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. Your look great in a paper bag,” he grinned. “But I really am glad you came tonight.”

“And why is that, Paul Lahote?”

“Because I wanted to apologize for the other day. I never wanted things to end the way they did,” he said. His eyes searched hers in the darkness, wanting nothing more than for his hands to reach her, to feel her skin against his once more. “I’m sorry if I caused any trouble between you and Jacob. The last thing I would have ever wanted was for you to be blamed for my actions. You don’t deserve that.”

“Thank you, Paul,” she smiled, her hand unconsciously reaching for his, giving it a comforting squeeze. “But it’s not your fault. I was the one that agreed to spend time with you knowing that Jake would blow off the handle. If anyone is to blame for what happened that night, it’s me.”

Paul couldn’t help himself as his free hand flew to rest on her cheek, cradling her face in a soothing manner. “Nothing that happened was your fault, (Y/N),” he said. “Jake simply showed you who he is. You never did anything wrong. We didn’t do anything wrong.”

In that split second, (Y/N) remembered Jake’s words. She broke away from his contact, as though his touch had burned her skin, turning away from the enchanting trance his eyes held over her.

“What’s wrong?”

“It's just that Jake said something about you and… your past,” she sighed. “He said I was just an attempt to make your body count higher.”

“I hope you know how untrue that is,” he said, seething on the inside but not daring to show it to her. “You are special, (Y/N), and I would never do anything that would make you feel otherwise.”

“But why, Paul? What is so special about me? To everyone, I’m just Bella’s little sister.”

“You have to know that that is the least interesting thing about you,” he said. He reached out to her, needing to look her in the eye again. “You’re funny, you’re kind, you’re smart and witty. And that’s merely the tip of the iceberg. I may not have known you for long but I know there’s so much more to you than you let on. And all I’ve wanted was to learn about those parts that you hide from everyone else.”

“I still don’t know why!” (Y/N) responded, frustration pooling beads of tears in the corners of her eyes. “How can I trust someone that somehow says everything I want to hear but won’t give me a straightforward answer? Why me, Paul? Out of all the people in the world, why do you want to know me?”

At that moment, he felt he would spill everything. He wanted her to know just why it was her, why the universe had decided that it had to be her. Paul wanted to confess what bonded them and would keep them for the rest of their lives.

And he would have, but the fear of putting her in any danger could not let him say the words. He could not bring himself to utter any of the words that would throw her life up in shambles. “Why not you, (Y/N)?” he asked her, biting his tongue to keep what he wanted to say from spilling. “Is it so hard to believe that I could have seen you and be intrigued by you?”

“You saw me for a split second, Paul. Someone you’ve never known of cannot be worth all this trouble.”

“You are worth it, (Y/N).”

“And you are frustratingly vague,” she finally cracked a smile. “Why can’t you just answer me? What is it that you’re hiding?”

“You’d never believe me if I told you,” he copied her smile. “And isn’t a little mystery fun?”

“It could be if it didn’t get me in trouble with my boyfriend.”

“That could be fixed by breaking up with him, you know,” Paul teased. “A lot of things could be fixed if Jake was gone.”

“Are you threatening my boyfriend, Paul Lahote?”

“I would never,” he laughed. “But I still believe that he doesn’t deserve you, (Y/N).”

“Will you ever let that go?”

“Don’t think I can.”

And maybe she knew he was right but it was too hard to admit it, to him or to herself. She had wanted Jake for the better part of her life and one night could not change that. She wouldn’t let it. “Then you’re gonna have to if there’s ever gonna be some sort of friendship between us,” she said. “Might be hard to spend time with someone that’s always trashing their boyfriend.”

“I mean, you’ve only got a couple more weeks before you have to go back to Florida, right? I think I can control myself in that time.”

“Actually, I decided to move to Forks with my dad,” she smiled. “Bella isn’t getting better and I’ve honestly gotten attached to this town. It might be that some people have made this place so enchanting.”

“Then I guess I’m gonna have to work harder on pretending that I like Jake,” he grinned. “But I am glad you’re staying. The town wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“I’ve only been here for three weeks, Paul,” she laughed.

“And nothing has been the same since.”

“You’re something else.”

“I could say the same about you,” Paul added before noticing Jared calling him over. “And on that note, I will have to leave you. I’ve got a couple of things I have to do. But not before you give me your phone number.”

“My number?”

“That way I’d we ever wanna see each other it doesn’t have to be by me showing up at your house or running into each other at a bonfire.”

“Right,” she chuckled, handing him her phone. “That’s smart.”

 “I’ll see you around, (Y/N),” he smiled before kissing her on the cheek and disappearing down the beach.

As soon as he was out of sight, (Y/N) looked around, hoping that no one had witnessed what had just happened. As innocent as everything could have been, in such a small town, everything was known.

Once she had calmed down, she finally walked toward the commotion of the beach. Feeling as confused as she had been since meeting Paul, but at peace. Being around him made her feel serene, tranquility spreading through her veins. Though he made her heart race, he didn’t make her chest feel tight. It was a feeling that made her feel equal parts uneasy and calm.

“Where were you?” Jake asked as she joined him and his friends, a hint of annoyance dancing between his words.

“Just around,” she smiled. “I was actually planning to get something to drink. Do you guys want anything?”

“We’re good,” Embry smiled kindly. “But thank you.”

“Just hurry,” Jake added before becoming more interested in the conversations he was having before she had gotten close. “And bring me back a water, thanks.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

(Y/N) left him quickly, needing to compose herself before heading back toward him. She could feel how annoyed he was at her. Ever since that afternoon with Paul, Jake had become distant and rather cold toward her but she could understand why. As much as it pained her, she knew why and that she had to do something to make it up to him while keeping what angered him a secret.

“It’s good to see you around, (Y/N),” Billy said as he joined the girl’s side at the refreshment table. “I was wondering when I would see you again.”

“Hi, uncle Billy,” she smiled. “I’ve been meaning to go by the house but I’ve been busy these couple of days.”

“And things have been heated between you and my son.”

“How did you…?”

“Small town,” he smiled softly. “But I’ve already had some words with my son about his behavior toward you. It was completely unacceptable.”

“It might have been an overreaction but it was warranted,” she said looking down. “I knew what I did would anger him but I still did it.”

“That doesn’t mean he can chastise you in the middle of town. My son is young and can be quick-tempered,” Billy sighed, taking one of (Y/N)’s hands in his. “He says and does things that he doesn’t know he will regret one day, and you don’t deserve to be in the receiving end of that.”

“Thank you, Billy,” (Y/N) smiled, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “But I’m sure he’s sorry for that night and we’ll work through it together.”

“You know, I love my son, but he can be quite stubborn when he wants to. Even at his own detriment. Still, I hope this new year brings you both clarity and growth. Both personally, and if the gods want it, in your relationship as well.”

“I hope so too, uncle Billy.”

“My son is lucky to have you by his side. Even if he doesn’t know it.”

(Y/N) felt a new surge of confidence as he joined Jake and his friends once more. Knowing Billy was watching her back made her feel stronger about her relationship with Jacob and that it was worth investing her heart and time into. She knew her heart yearned for Jake and all she felt toward Paul was a strong sense of friendship.

As the hours passed and the tension between her and Jake seemed to dissipate, her resolve simply solidified itself. She would do anything possible to fix her relationship with her boyfriend and keep her friendship with Paul separate from Jacob.

But there was the smallest part in her that replayed Paul’s voice. He kept telling her how she deserved better and that Jake was not the right person for her, even if that was who she had wanted for so long.

Still, when the clock struck twelve, Jake was the one she kissed, and wished things would work out between them. She wished for him to only see Bella as a friend and finally give his whole heart to her. Wrapped in his arms as they cheered the new year, she begged the universe to give her the chance to have everything she had wished for.

Yet as her eyes found Paul’s in the crowd, she doubted if it was what she truly wanted or if she was holding onto a silly childhood dream.

Next ->

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[rattlebear25]

A video made some weeks ago about Hazbin Hotel Swap AU. I won't make a comic because i hate making AUs long term projects since i never finished one but those AI Covers are so good to make silly animatic like this and maybe i will show some colored artwork of the swapped characters.

Little CONTEXT:

Adam and Eve got corrupted by Lucifer and Lilith with the apple and Lilith divorced from Adam and he got banished from Eden and went to Hell. Here he realized that the humanity damnation is all his fault and tried to help sinners to redeem themselves with the Hazbin Hotel blah blah blah...

The main ships here are StaticMoth, HuskerDust, Chaggie and Guitarspear (also Lucilith but it's slighty present in the story for the moment)

Husker became lover/work partner with Antonio (Swapped Angel Dust), while Antonio managed strip and s€x clubs, Husk inserted casinos and gambling in Antonio's locals, while Cherri Bomb sells super explosive alcholic drinks to help each other profits and share the percentages of the earnings. (Their trio is called H. A. C.)

About Morningstar Family: Lucifer, because of what he did, went depressed and disappeared for 7 years trying to find The Duck Island (yes, depression made him very dissociated). Lilith, since she is the First Sinner went to Hell and tried to rule it but she was so worried about her husband's sanity and disappearing that she isolated herself to find a way to bring Lucifer back. Charlie since she was more a victim of the events and didn't nothing wrong was assumed in Paradise with Vaggie to bring order in Hell, killing the Sinners' population each year. Since Lilith loved her people so much, did a deal with her daughter Charlie about not killing Hellborns and half of the Sinners' population each year.

Rosie took the place of Alastor because in this AU Al is a radio host like the original but also ruler of Cannibal Town. He disappeared for 7 years like Lucifer for unknown reasons so his best friend Rosie took his place. Rosie decided to help Adam in his naive try to save Sinners just because she wants news to spread for her radio broadcast activity and a lot of hulks for her and her folks at Cannibal Town from a possible war bewteen Heaven and Hell.

[eleni-cherie]

a thief's origin✨ || bts • kth - epilogue

"you're afraid I won't wait."

"I'm afraid you will."

a criminal and a doctor should be as different as the sun and the moon - but unexpected things happened every day. like him finding his safe haven in her.

© 2024 | eleni_cherie

»»»

masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

»»»

age 30 // attending physician

6th June

Havana, Cuba

The day Taehyung walked away, Cassandra didn't only lose the only man she'd ever loved but also her best friend.

A lifetime without him seemed empty and pointless and she was still mad at him for putting her through this misery.

However, she couldn't hate him, even if she wanted to. He hadn't done anything wrong after all, neither one of them had. What he'd done, he'd done out of love, to keep her far away from the danger lurking around every corner he took.

No. She'd never be able hating him because in the end, he'd never broken her heart. He had just stolen and run away with it.

And it still hurt.

The first first days, weeks, months after the break-up were characterised by denial. She was used to extended periods between seeing him again after all. Even the fact texts and calls had stopped, couldn't change that. Only when postcards had stopped coming as well, it'd finally downed to her.

Of course, in reality she'd already known it long before that, from the very first moment he'd left. She could see it in his eyes. He'd meant it back then, every single word. He wouldn't come back.

And yet, denial kept her from accepting it earlier. Kept her from even admitting or acknowledging it. Denial had her bargaining, believing that, even if he'd meant it, he'd surely change his mind eventually. That he'd certainly regret it. Denial gave her false hope.

When months passed without any new postcard, however, that was when she'd finally let herself admit defeat. When the denial couldn't hold up anymore. When the bargaining ended up in vain.

And instead, a phase of upsetness and depression, in constant pendulation, entered. A permanent restlessness accompanying her from that day on, knowing she'd never be able finding what they'd shared with someone else.

Until she'd finally accepted it and got accustomed to never seeing him again.

The tiny hope she'd once held, long stored back in a box and buried by then. Only the necklaces remained as a remnant of the past, not ready to give them away. One day maybe, but not yet.

However, just because she had managed accepting it, it didn't mean everything was back to normal for her.

Passing by their old places, she couldn't help but always see the ghost of them together there, everything turning dull. Unable to pass by Casa Batlló anymore without aching at the memory of their sunsets, the beach without remembering New Year's Eve, without seeing the 'magic fountain' and remembering his birthday present or the art museum above it where he'd clumsily confessed to her later.

Not even being able staying too long in her own apartment, constantly getting reminded of their first kiss or the countless nights they had spent there laughing, crying, fooling around and loving each other.

Her once dream city had turned blue and gray.

She simply couldn't bear staying in Barcelona anymore after completing her medical training last year, deciding to realise her once silly idea of revisiting the place of her childhood memories for her specialisation training instead.

A place with no attachment to him. Far away from everything and everyone.

She was essentially running away - or at least tried to. Although she knew she'd never be able to fully run away from it all, carrying him with her anywhere she went.

Perhaps there was also an underlying irony in the fact she'd chosen emergency medicine as her specialisation out of all medical fields. Perhaps it was evidence for the residual hold the artful marksman with the cheeky grin and the warm eyes still had on her and probably always would.

Over a year had already passed by now ever since Taehyung had left and interpol showing up hours later, questioning her about the boatyard. Over a year and she still caught herself falling into her memories every once in a while. Still couldn't stop becoming sorrowful whenever she did and plunging into work or her films for distraction.

She felt like a fool, considering a year should've been enough time to get over someone, something she'd used to do in a day or two.

At least she had stopped looking for him in other men a long time ago. Unintentionally comparing anyone she'd crossed paths with him at first, a fatuous and unhealthy habit which thankfully had subdued by now. Not that she even wanted or tried to find anyone to replace him. It'd be impossible, but also the mere thought of any men made her shudder.

No, she didn't even feel like glancing at anyone, much less date anyone. Her busy work schedules and introverted personality were a true blessing after all, making avoiding them easier.

So there she was now in Havana, the capital of Cuba and place of one of her earliest childhood memories.

It was the beginning of summer, although high temperatures had been constant for weeks. But it was nothing she couldn't handle and otherwise she enjoyed her life there so far. She wouldn't have the right to complain anyway, Havana being her chosen getaway after all.

Cassandra opened the door to her apartment in the first floor, the coolness inside a much needed contrast to the warm afternoon outside. Her aparatment was a bit bigger than her old one, but still decorated in a similar fashion. She couldn't get rid of her beloved posters, plants or plushies after all.

Her backpack sliding from her arms to the floor with a thud as soon as she pressed the door shut behind her.

A five-hour-long seminar sounded more painful than it really was, but perhaps she'd simply got used to this, who knew. Numbness to certain things was one of the requirements for this kind of profession, which she had almost mastered by now - finally.

With a dragged sigh, she slipped out of her disgustingly warm sneakers, although she was accustomed to such temperatures, they still took a tall on her. First she poured herself a much needed glass of water. Gulping it down in one go before changing into more comfortable clothes and preparing something to eat.

When the food was ready, she settled in front of her tv to continue watching a crime comedy she'd started awhile ago.

Old habits died hard after all.

The second half of the episode was reached when Cassandra noticed her eyes growing heavy, the tiredness of the day and the food making her drowsy. Eventually fluttering shut, causing her to almost miss the anxious knocking on her front door.

First she dismissed it as a neighbour's hammering, but when she paused the episode to figure out which one it was, she realised the noise was coming from her door. And she tensed up, staring at it with wide eyes.

Wonder mixed with an odd feeling of déjà-vu crept up on her as she slowly went to answer it. Assuming it was just irritation causing her trembling hands as she grabbed the door handle, her knuckles turning white when pressing it down and opening the door.

It felt like a sick joke of the universe first. Then she feared her mind was only playing tricks on her, projecting a memory of him. But it couldn't be a memory. He looked different.

Not because of the beaten up posture and the torn clothes - she had seen him way worse. It wasn't even the shorter mop of waves, tousled and sticking out at some ends, or his broader frame.

No. It was the distress written all over his gentle features, a mild sunburn tainting them in a pinkish shade, that told her something had to be severely wrong for him to stand again in front of her door, more than one year later.

And her initial excitement sunk.

"Cas -" Taehyung tried catching his breath and propped a toned arm against the doorframe. It was evident that he had been running. "I know I have no right, but Jimin - he - he needs you."

At the mention of his friend's name and the way he choked it out, she sensed her initial fear being correct. Something was terribly wrong.

Any lingering feelings and unsolved regrets got swept aside in that moment. Her ego and tiredness long forgotten, instead instincts from years of medical training kicked in. And she immediatelly rushed to the bathroom.

Perplexed at her sudden move, he wanted to call after her when she returned seconds later with a familiar object in her hands. The blue medical kit. She held it firmly in one hand while slipping back into her sneakers with the help of the other.

"Take me to him."

Taehyung smiled softly, not even surprised by the determination in her voice. She hadn't changed at all, she was still the same.

He nodded then, wordlessly grasping her free hand in his and Cassandra let him pull her downstairs to his waiting car.

THE END

»»»

if you wanna know how Tae x Cas's story continues, make sure to read the main story "among thieves" and the sequel "a thief's end" ;)

hope you enjoyed this prequel! it got longer than expected haha

i plan to edit "among thieves" and add more details to make it equally as long as the other stories + i plan to write one-shots for jungkook and jin, perhaps namjoon and hobi, too, if i come up w smth good for them. so stay tuned!

Don't forget to like, comment & leave feedback!♡ It motivates me to keep writing :)

taglist: @lilanyxta @naoolammao345 @memna234 @tetehion @myblacklilame

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: my @wyattjohnston winter fic exchange fic for @senditcolton (whose writing i am OBSSESSED with - praise you like i should made me see the light on matty t) 🥰 i’ve never written for tyler seguin and my only familiarity with him was him showing his own headshot to get into the arena which immediately made me love him lol. i had fun writing this one and i hope you enjoy!!!

word count: 12.1k

tw: drinking , fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), dirty talk, hangovers, mild cursing

summary: new year’s eve in las vegas gets out of hand when you meet tyler, a gorgeous stranger in the club

After your divorce papers are signed, sealed, and delivered - on Christmas day no less, leave it to your jackass ex to find the only lawyer in the entire Fort Worth area willing to work on a national fucking holiday - your best friends appear at your front door with suitcases, bottles of champagne, and round trip tickets to Las Vegas, leaving on the 27th.

“No,” you tell them flatly, arms crossed over your flannel shirt, hair in a three-day old knot on top of your head. “I’m not in the mood to go anywhere, much less Vegas.”

You hadn’t even taken your parents up on the offer to pay for a plane ticket back home to New York for the holidays. It was too much to face them after your marriage had imploded and getting the third degree from your relatives wasn’t exactly something you wanted to do. Spending the holidays alone had seemed like a better option, even if the day had been a little lonely. But a spiked hot chocolate and a string of Christmas movie classics had kept you from getting too depressed.

“Honey,” Nora says, in her Christmas sweat set, the cartoon Grinch blazoned across the front giving you a nasty smirk, a patient smile on her face, “now is exactly the time to get away. You just shed a hundred seventy five pounds of jackass, you need a distraction.”

She muscles past you and nearly drags her rolling suitcase’s wheels over your bare toes. You pull your foot back and lean against the wall as Katie and Nic follow her inside, a makeshift parade to celebrate your divorce. Nic at least has the decency to shoot you an apologetic look as she passes, whispering, “I tried to get her to settle for a little trip to a spa, you know, manis, pedis, massage. But you know Nora…”

“Never Takes No for an Answer Nora,” you finish when Nic trails off, smiling a little despite yourself. Nic gives you a little smile and bumps your hip with hers.

“Seriously though,” she says as you close the door behind her, “if you really don’t want to go, Nor will understand.”

You sigh and shake your head. “No, I…it’s probably good for me to get out of town,” you admit reluctantly. It’s been a depressing few months, full of anger and tears and tense phone calls and curt emails. You’re tired of being sad, of being angry, but mostly you’re tired of being in the same city as your asshole ex-husband. Even though you moved out of the house you shared and into an apartment, the entire city holds reminders of your relationship. Now that the divorce is official, you’re starting to wonder if staying in Fort Worth is the right move. Your friends and your job are here, but the risk of running into Jason is astronomically high and maybe a change of scenery would be good. You rub at your forehead - that’s a problem for the new year.

The girls leave their suitcases in a pile in your front hall. Two pairs of Nikes and a pair of Ugg platforms join the suitcases and you’re pulled into a pile on your couch - the college tradition for a broken relationship. Back then it had been cheap wine coolers and binge watching The Bachelor. Now, Nora hands you a bottle of champagne, cheers when you pop the cork, and drops her head to your shoulder after you take a huge gulp. You drape your legs over Katie’s lap and rest your cheek on the top of Nora’s head. It’s not the way you thought you’d be spending the holidays, but you’re so grateful for your friends.

“In about an hour, we’re going to start helping you pack,” Nora says, taking the second bottle of champagne from Nic and swigging from it. “But right now, it’s time to tell us every single negative thought you’ve had about Jackass Jason and didn’t want to say before.“

“Have to cleanse the energy,” Nic says, “by putting all his negative traits into the air and I’ll light some sage.”

“Sage?” You lift an eyebrow, warm and cozy in the cocoon of your friends.

Nic digs into her giant purse and pulls out a wad of sage, tied up with white string. She beams. “Sage! It’s very cleansing.”

Katie cackles a laugh. She kicks Nic’s thigh lightly and grins, “never change those hippie ways, Nicky.”

“Pass me a lighter,” Nic holds out her free hand and wiggles her fingers. Nora drops a well used plastic Bic onto her palm and you lean in to cup your hands under the sage bundle. The last thing you want is ashy smudges on your couch.

It takes two tries, but eventually Nic manages to get the lighter to catch and she holds the flame to the top of the bundle. It immediately starts to smell of the burning herb and smoke rises to the ceiling when she blows out the small fire. You cough a little, the scent of sage stinging your nose. Nic rolls off the couch and begins to wave the stick around, explaining what she’s doing as she goes.

“So, we’re getting rid of all of Jason’s negative energy and karma,” she waves the stick and you wince when a little clump of ashes falls to the carpet and then sigh when Nic’s bare foot grinds them further into the fibers.

“Jason never lived here,” you point out reasonably, the bottle of champagne lighter in your hand as you take another drink. Your chest already feels lighter and less knotted with grief and anxiety.

Nic looks at you like you’re an idiot and you feel strangely chastened, taking another swig from the bottle. “Honey, his negative energy and toxicity was absorbed by you and all the stuff you took from the house. We have to just, like, get his energy out of here.” She cocks her head at you, squints, asks, “would you consider cutting your hair? Hair holds onto a lot of trauma.”

“No!” You yelp, hand flying up to clutch at the knotted mess on top of your head. “I thought you were the ones to talk me out of breakup bangs when he first left? Now I’m supposed to cut my hair?”

“Just a suggestion,” she says, even as the other two chime in from the couch to encourage a change in your hairstyle. Nora mentions a bob and you resist the urge to kick her.

With a roll of your eyes, you say firmly, “I’m not cutting my hair. Let’s move on from this.”

Nic nods and finishes sageing the apartment, leaving a faint haze of smoke in the air and you’re honestly very grateful when she puts the bundle in a ziploc bag and stashes it back in her purse. “Okay,” she beams, dusting off her hands, “bad energy officially cleansed. We can move onto the fun part!” She drinks from the bottle that you’ve mostly emptied on your own and before you can ask what the fun part is, you’re being pushed into your bedroom and the girls are rummaging in your closet for your suitcase.

They work in coordination, while you’re sitting stupid in the middle of your bed, to throw your skimpiest clothes into the opened suitcase. You watch as a colourful array of fabric is tossed from your drawers and wonder what, exactly, they have planned for the trip.

“This one, for sure,” Katie’s voice is muffled from deep in your closet. Her hand appears, the mirrored minidress you bought and wore for the Eras Tour swinging from its hanger. The mirrors sparkle under the hi-hats in your room and throw discs of light onto your bedroom walls.

“What are we doing in Vegas?” You ask finally, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. “I mean, I love that dress, but can’t this just be a chill trip? Like what if we just got tickets to see Adele? And I can cry to her music?”

“Absolutely not,” Nora shakes her head and Katie shakes the dress at you again. “We’re going to get you to forget about the jackass and the divorce one way or another. Whether it’s drinks or dick, that’s your choice, but you deserve to let loose after taking care of him all these years.”

“Besides,” Katie pipes up, “how good do you think we are that we could get last minute Adele tickets? That shit was sold out months ago!”

Tears prickle at your eyes, your nose burning a little. Divorced at 27 isn’t exactly how you pictured your life going after meeting Jason in college, getting married at 22, and supporting him all throughout his time in law school, but you’re beyond grateful for your girls.

“No dick,” you murmur, a shaky smile on your face. “I’m not ready for that, but drinks I can do.”

The trio cheers and starts tossing more clothes into your suitcase.

——

The next day is spent nursing your mild hangover and repacking the drunken mess you’d all made of your suitcase the night before. Once you’re packed to your satisfaction - mirrored mini dress and platform heels included - you run out for a quick wax before meeting the girls for a manicure.

“I meant to say it last night,” you say watching your crusty old gel polish disappear into dust, “but let me know what I owe you, for the flight and hotel and everything. I’ll Venmo you.”

Nora waves you off, apologising quickly to the manicurist when she complains as Nora’s hand is ripped away. “Don’t even worry about that. I used miles for the flights and -“

“The guy I’ve been seeing?” Nic cuts in. “The hedge fund guy, Mark, he’s treating for the hotel suite.”

Katie’s eyebrows shoot up along with yours. Clearly she didn’t know about the hotel connect. “Whoa,” she grins, “Nicky with the high roller! Hold onto him with two hands.”

Nic blushes. “He’s really sweet too.” She continues talking about him for a few minutes until she stops herself and looks at you with wide eyes and an apologetic expression. “Oh god, I’m so sorry! Here I am rambling on and you’re going through -“

“Oh my god, don’t do that!” You cut her off. “I’m okay! I want to hear about the guys you’re dating. Just because I’m single again doesn’t mean I want death to love for everyone.” You snort a laugh that sounds a little forced even to your own ears. The girls share a look that you hate, but continue talking about the dates they’ve been on and the mediocre sex they’ve been having. Truthfully, you tune them out a little bit, cranky about the divorce, about the trip that was sprung on you, and embarrassingly enough, jealous that they’re having sex at all.

Even before Jason started the divorce proceedings six months ago, it had been nearly eight months before that the last time you had sex. You should’ve realized he was seeing someone else on the side because there was no way he had gone that long without sex. And yet. You’d been caught off guard by the cliched texts found in his phone, the lacy thong found in his car, and the divorce petition delivered to you while he was “working late.” Thinking back on it, you feel supremely stupid.

Now that the paperwork is signed and you’re officially, legally single again, you’re just glad you didn’t have kids or anything really significant to fight over. It’s almost a blessing that the process wasn’t as drawn out as it could’ve been.

You make a conscious effort to push all thoughts of Jason from your mind and try to be in the moment, a task made easier once you’re in the air en route to Vegas and then actually in the city itself. It’s both like the movies and not, colorful and loud and a little sketchy. But you immediately make twenty bucks on a slot machine in the airport, so you figure that’s a good omen for the trip.

The first four days of the trip pass in a blur - all you can eat buffets, drinking, dancing, spas, too little sleep, and too much gambling. You’re up nearly three hundred dollars after being down almost a thousand the day before, so that’s cause to celebrate with drinks. Not that you really need an excuse - you’ve had more alcohol in the last four days than in the last four months. You’re exhausted, but you’ve also laughed more than you have in a year and your face hurts from smiling. The entire city has a numbing effect on your lingering emotions and you feel yourself starting to rediscover who you were before the Jason of it all.

“Time for the mirrorball dress!” Nora singsongs, dancing around the suite in her plush robe. It’s New Year’s Eve and the city feels even sparklier than usual. The streets have been packed with people and the casinos are at capacity - apparently there’s a hockey game tonight too, so the sports bettors are having a field day. You’ve been going to different hotel bars and clubs the past few nights, but tonight is the big night out before you fly back to Texas tomorrow night.

The entire Strip is shut down to traffic for the night and you’re planning on going to TAO for dinner and dancing since it’s inside the Venitian, where you’re staying. It’s a major splurge, but fuck it, you’re about to get alimony from your corporate lawyer ex-husband. You still have Jason’s credit card, so you’re fully planning on putting dinner on his tab, before he realizes that the card is in your possession. For all the little details Jason remembers, he’s surprisingly bad about his finances.

For now though, you dig your hand into the pillowcase that had been full of the little shot sized bottles of alcohol four days ago and is now mostly empty. You groan when you pull out a little bottle of Pink Whitney, the pink lemonade vodka is your least favorite drink. You knock back the shot while the girls cheer you on, all three of them already in various states of tipsy. It honestly feels like you haven’t been completely sober since you left Texas.

Nic blasts a classic 2000s playlist while you’re getting ready and you dance around the huge suite, feeling light and floaty.

It’s complete chaos out on the Strip, even though it’s barely after 7. You could’ve gotten to the restaurant directly through the hotel, but you decide to walk outside for a bit to see what’s happening. It’s chillier than you expected, so by the time you get to the restaurant, you’re more than ready for a drink and dinner. You fill up on sushi and expensive drinks, gossiping about people you knew in college, spilling some more of the more extreme details of Jason’s cheating when you’re finished with your third TAO-tini.

“FUCK HIM!” Katie shouts in the middle of the restaurant, drawing attention to your table. You giggle and shush her drunkenly, waving a hand to get her to lower her voice. “No,” she shakes her head, only marginally quieter, “you really are so much better than that douche. When we get downstairs, we’re finding a man and you’re fucking him!”

Nic giggles and leans a little sideways in her seat, “new dick to cleanse Jackass Jason from your vagina!”

You flush with embarrassment as more people look over, but thank god the waiter comes by with the check. You toss Jason’s platinum AmEx onto the little dish and grin wickedly as you tell the girls, “dinner was on Jason.” They cheer and Nora laughs, “I should’ve ordered another drink!”

Once the bill is paid, with a generous 30% tip added, you traipse downstairs into the club part of the restaurant. The lights are low and the music is loud, plenty of people already drunkenly dancing just three hours before midnight. Nic and Nora join the fray immediately while you and Katie detour off to the bathroom quickly where you fix up your makeup and fluff up your hair, inspecting your face in the mirror. You look tired, but there’s a spark in your eyes that you hadn’t noticed was missing in the last year of your relationship with Jason.

“I’m serious,” Katie says, her solemn tone betrayed by the slight slur to her ‘s’. “Pick a guy in here and I will make sure you fuck him. You deserve a little fun.”

“I have been having fun,” you assure her, your reflection grinning at hers. The alcohol is making your brain pleasantly fuzzy, thoughts drifting away as easily as they come. “I don’t need a man right now,” you continue. “Even for the night. I just want to dance.”

“Okay!” Katie chirps, grabbing your hand and pulling you back out into the club. “Let’s dance!”

And you do. You find Nic and Nora and for a handful of songs, the four of you are jumping and screaming and having a blast.

Sweaty and thirsty, you break off from the girls and wobble towards the bar, weaving in between the throngs of people. The line for the bar is two or three people deep, so you settle in for a wait, looking around the room and people watching. The crowd seems pretty typical for New Year’s Eve in Las Vegas, but your gaze lands on a group of men and your heart skips a beat.

There’s at least four of them huddled together, maybe five, and you know you’re drunk, but you didn’t think you were drunk enough to be seeing double. You blink and they come into sharper focus - not seeing double, just two incredibly handsome, dark haired and bearded men. Another dark haired man with no beard and a curly haired blond man. They’re all in slacks and white button downs in various states of unbuttoned, like they came from the office or something. They don’t look out of place in the club though, with drinks in their hands and the way they’re grouped together.

They’re laughing and shoving at each other, like overgrown frat boys, and you can’t look away. You’re captivated by the way they hold themselves, clearly confident in their bodies. Even in the dark of the club, you can see the faint outlines of ink through the white fabric of one of the guys’ shirts.

You’re still staring like a creep when the tattooed guy turns and looks directly at you, making and holding eye contact. A little gasp slips from your lips and your stomach flips, the familiar and nearly forgotten feeling of arousal sparking to life in your stomach. His friends shove at his arms, laughing. You blink and look away, feeling shaky and not from the alcohol. A faint flutter between your legs has you pressing your thighs together. “This is stupid,” you mutter to yourself. Ten seconds of eye contact shouldn’t have had you reacting like this. Yes, it had been a while since you last had sex, but jeez.

You rub your fingers over the bridge of your nose and nearly jump out of your skin when a deep, unfamiliar voice says, “what are you drinking?” right in your ear.

“Oh!” You turn, stumbling just enough that a hand shoots out and grips your elbow to steady you. A warm, broad hand. Attached to a tanned, tattooed forearm. Attached to a broad chest barely covered by an obscenely unbuttoned white shirt - tattoos and chest hair exposed and making your body react. Attached to the dark haired man you had made eye contact with. You blink up into warm brown eyes and ignore the way your stomach clenches up. His thumb brushes against the inside of your elbow and your skin feels like it’s on fire.

His mouth, full lower lip and thinner upper lip surrounded by a neatly trimmed beard and moustache, quirks up at the corner. “In case I wasn’t clear,” he says and you can hear the laughter in his tone, “can I buy you a drink?”

A faint smile touches your own lips and you nod. “Double vodka cranberry,” you say, voice a little raspy from screaming along to the music.

Mystery Man nods, smiling, “good choice. Come with me?” Without waiting for an answer, he slides his hand down your forearm and laces his fingers with yours to pull you behind him while he uses his broad shoulders to muscle past the crowd around the bar. When you reach the bar, he does a quick maneuver, dragging you in front of him so you’re sandwiched between the bar and his chest, heat pouring off his body. He leans forward a bit, pressing against you, and catches the bartender’s attention. Your entire body feels too warm, the thin fabric of your thong growing damp from the solid mass of his chest against your back.

“Double vodka cranberry for the lady,” he orders. “And double scotch on the rocks for me.”

His forearms come to rest on the bar top, trapping you in the circle of his arms. The alcohol is lowering your inhibitions and your intrusive thoughts win out and you arch your back a little, pressing your ass into his crotch, turning your head to look back at him. He wears a shit eating grin on his face.

“I don’t usually let strangers buy me drinks,” you say, heart pounding in your chest. He doesn’t feel like a threat, doesn’t feel like someone you should be afraid of. You lean a little closer to him, something crackling in the air between your bodies.

Something flitters across his expression, but you’re just this side of drunk and can’t manage to identify it before it’s gone. “Tyler,” he introduces himself, trailing a finger over your arm and up to your shoulder where he plays with the thin silver strap holding your dress in place. “Not a stranger now.” Goosebumps lift on your arms as his fingertip twists in the skimpy strap. His gaze is searing, flickering from your eyes to your lips to the hint of cleavage exposed by the draping of your dress. Your nipples tighten under the fabric, pinching almost painfully.

You offer up your own name in return, taking the drink directly from the bartender when he returns. You sip at it and it tastes stronger than a double or maybe that’s just Tyler’s proximity that’s clouding your senses.

He takes a sip of his own drink and leads you away from the bar, giving you another opportunity to watch his back muscles move under his shirt as he works his way through the crowd. A gym rat, you think, with the way he’s all lean muscle and quiet strength. He’s muscled, but not disgustingly so.

“What are you doing in Vegas?” He asks, when you’re alone again, just off to the side of the bar. You can see the girls out of the corner of your eye, staring at you with matching ‘you go, girl!’ expressions on their faces. You giggle a little.

“Celebrating,” you reply vaguely, taking a sip of your drink and fluttering your lashes. You’re flirting, you realize. You haven’t flirted with anyone since Jason. The bubbly feeling in your chest expands and you smile up at him.

“Huh,” he laughs warmly, “what do you know, me too. And the only thing my night was missing is a pretty girl.”

Alcohol fuels your confidence, along with the hungry way Tyler’s gaze takes in your body, and you reply, “good thing you found me then.”

Your gaze lingers on the notch of his collarbone, the dusting of hair over his chest, the dark lines of his tattoos. Your cunt gives an enthusiastic throb and you swallow heavily.

Tyler leans in a little and you catch a whiff of spicy cologne mixed with the scotch on his breath. This isn’t his first drink of the night either. “Would your friends mind if I monopolized your time tonight?”

Biting your lip, you look over at the girls. Katie is moving her hand near her mouth in the universal sign for blowjob and Nic is giving you the biggest, most encouraging puppy dog eyes. Nora flashes you a double thumbs up, spilling some of her drink in the process. A laugh huffs through your nose and you look back up at Tyler, “no, I don’t think they’ll mind.”

“Good,” his smile is adorable, his hand lands on your waist, and you completely forget why you told Katie you weren’t interested in a hook up tonight. “Want to dance?”

You’re not quite sure how it happened - one minute you were dancing with Tyler, one of his arms wrapped securely around your waist while your hips gyrated against his pelvis, the hard bulge of his cock obvious every time you moved and the next minute you found yourself pressed up against a wall in the VIP section of TAO, with Tyler’s tongue deep down your throat and his hand sliding up the side of your thigh, fingertips playing at the hem of your dress. Your hands are fisted around the collar of his shirt, pulling him as close as you can while you moan into his mouth and cant your hips towards his, spreading your legs a little to encourage his hand’s exploration.

His fingertips make contact with the soaked fabric of your thong and you whimper, knees going weak. Tyler’s lips turn up in a smile against yours and he uses more pressure, finding your clit easily through the fabric until you have to pull back and gasp for air, your head thrown back while you pant.

“Jesus, baby,” he mutters, kissing a trail down your jaw and over your throat. “You’re fucking soaked.” He sucks gently at your pulse point, your heart hammering in your chest.

He slips his fingers under the fabric, rough pads of his fingers catching against your slick folds. “Oh my god,” you mutter, grinding against his fingers. “More, please, Tyler.”

He obeys, thumb catching on your clit and middle finger teasing at your entrance before sliding inside easily. A whine catches in your throat and it feels so good, too good. Between the alcohol and the lust and the months long celibacy, you’re at the edge of an orgasm in less than a minute, dripping around Tyler’s fingers before you can even process that you’ve come. White spots dance in your vision and it could be the strobe lights or the searing pleasure from having your clit rolled between Tyler’s thick fingers.

“Good girl,” he grins against your neck, beard and teeth scraping against your skin. Your face already feels rubbed raw with beard burn, but you don’t want him to stop. “Think you can do it again?”

Truthfully you think that you’re so worked up and horny you could come just from Tyler looking at you, but you nod and squeak out a yes.

Tyler bites a mark against your collarbone and drops to his knees, wedging his shoulders between your thighs and forcing them apart. He looks up at you from between your legs, dark eyes even darker with lust and a wicked grin on his face, “hold on, baby, gonna make you see fireworks for the New Year.”

You laugh at the corny line, choking off into a prolonged moan when he buries his face between your legs and presses his tongue flat against your cunt, the wet heat of his tongue pressing your damp thong into your sensitive clit.

You’re beyond thankful for the darkness of the VIP area and the loud music because you can’t contain the noises that Tyler’s drawing from your mouth. You tangle one hand in his hair - fuck, it’s so soft - and hold his face up against your cunt. The other hand reaches blindly for the magnum bottle of champagne you’d been sharing. Technically it’s the second bottle and it’s more than half gone when you tip it up to your mouth for a drink.

“I - ah! I don’t usually doooooh my god, right there - this,” you gasp, writhing over Tyler’s face. His nose is pressed against your clit and his tongue is flat against you, licking with purpose. You grind against his face, making sure the tip of his nose rubs against your clit.

“What,” he pulls back with a wicked grin that only grows when you whine and try to push him back in place with your grip on his hair, “get your pussy licked?”

The bottom half of his face is glistening in the strobe lights and you feel the blush rise on your chest knowing that your body did that to him.

“Um, yes,” you admit quietly, “and the whole, uh, stranger in a club thing too.”

His smile turns a little soft, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Happy to be your first then,” he kisses the inside of your thigh and lifts your leg so it’s draped over his shoulder and you’re spread even wider for him. You’re impossibly exposed to him and all it does is make you wetter. Tyler tilts his head back a little and opens his mouth, you instinctively pour some champagne into his mouth, the both of you laughing when it splatters onto his face and shirt, making the white fabric nearly see-through. He wipes a little at his face, fingers scraping at his beard, and he shrugs. “Was gonna get all wet and messy anyway.”

He holds his champagne covered fingers up to your face and you lick at his skin, sucking his fingertips into your mouth and letting them rest on your tongue for a moment before he pushes them a little further past your lips, until saliva is dripping down his palm.

Tyler’s head is back between your legs, a strong hang gripping at your thigh, his lips wrapped around your clit. He sucks at the swollen bud and your leg kicks out, the heel of your platform smacking against his back with an audible thunking noise. He grunts into you and you moan an apology, his fingers falling out of your mouth so you can take another gulp of champagne. The bubbles fizz on your tongue and burn going down.

He buries his wet fingers into your cunt, curling and pumping, and you bite down hard on your lower lip to keep from screaming. Not that anyone would hear you with how loud the music is in the club. You grind your hips against Tyler’s face and feel him smile, the coarse hair on his face scratching against your inner thighs when you subconsciously try to close your legs around his ears.

“Gonna kill me,” he pulls back and mutters, nipping at the junction of your thigh. You jolt when his hands squeeze at your asscheeks, the scrape of the sequins on your dress adding more overwhelming sensation. He adjusts your thigh over his shoulder, his other hand trailing down your leg and wrapping around your ankle. He pulls back a little and you whine at the loss of sensation. “I like these,” he says, his fingers tapping against the sparkle of your platforms. “When I fuck you later, I want you to keep these on.”

You laugh, about to deny that this is going any further than the club, when his mouth is back on your cunt, tongue stiff and warm as he licks at your clit. All thoughts are gone from your head, aware only of the pleasure Tyler’s giving you. His hands are all over your body, fidgeting from your thighs to your ass and back again, calloused fingertips ghosting over your skin and making you shiver.

You close your eyes against the pleasure building in your body, tears pooling at your waterline. How the fuck did you go this long in life without realizing that you’ve never had a satisfying orgasm? And some random, gorgeous man in a club in Vegas is the one to satisfy you over and over? It’s a shame this is a one night thing.

—-

Sunlight streams in through the windows and you screw your eyes shut tighter, nausea rolling your stomach even though you haven’t moved. It’s like an ice pick is stabbed into your temple, the throbbing somewhere deep in your brain a harsh reminder that you’re not 21 and immune to hangovers anymore.

You press your lips together and lift your hand to rub at your temple, trying to keep your movements as slow as possible so you don’t vomit. Something hard and sharp knocks against your brow bone and you crack one eye open to see what the hell it could possibly be since you don’t remember putting any jewelry on last night. A huge twinkly diamond ring stares back at you from your finger.

The ring finger.

The left ring finger.

…fuck

Your eyes fly open and you ignore the wave of nausea and shooting headache to look around the hotel room. The unfamiliar hotel room. The sheets slide down your chest, exposing you to cold air and making you shiver. Your nipples pebble from the cold and you look down, eyes widening at the little bruises and bite marks scattered over your chest and stomach. You’re naked under the sheets save for a pair of black boxer-briefs looped around one thigh, like you tried to put them on last night and got tired halfway. The fabric is soft and worn and they’re absolutely not your underwear.

“Fuck!” You yelp, gaze landing on Tyler’s prone form in the bed next to you. He’s flat on his back, one arm thrown over his face, the other out to his side with his fingers curled in your direction. “Oh my god!”

His chest is bare, tattoos a stark contrast against the white sheets and his tan skin. He’s got purpling bruises on his chest and stomach too, marks that you must’ve left on him. Marks that make a trail from his collarbone over his pecs, down his stomach, barely hidden by the sheet that rides low over his lap.

If you’re half wearing his briefs, he’s definitely completely naked from the waist down too. Before you can comprehend the thought, you wonder if you left marks lower on his body too.

Your head is moving around like it’s on a swivel, taking in all the details of the room that you’re pretty sure is Tyler’s. There’s a black suitcase in the corner and your dress is a shiny pile on the floor. Your thong tossed over the lampshade on the bedside table. You can’t find your shoes, until you notice them at the foot of the giant bed, left in a haphazard pile and you remember, faintly, Tyler’s words from last night - “When I fuck you later, I want you to keep these on.” They look like they were discarded in a rush, one ankle strap not even fully pulled from its buckle. His clothes are everywhere, tossed in a trail from the door that speaks to how fast you were trying to get him naked.

The hangover is clouding your brain, making it feel like your head is stuffed with cotton, and you haven’t even begun to consider what the ring on your finger means. Maybe it was just a joke? It had to have been a joke.

Tyler shifts, grunting a little in his sleep, and reaches his hand out in your direction like he’s trying to find your body. His movement startles you.

“Ah, fuck!” You yelp, scrambling out of the bed, legs all tangled in the sheets. The briefs slip down your leg and tangle around your ankle. You kick your leg wildly, the black fabric going sailing across the room with the force of your kick. Frantically, you yank at one of the blankets crumpled at the foot of the bed and wrap it around yourself like a toga. Your hands shake a little.

Tyler stirs and blinks sleepily, stretching his arms over his head, giving you a show with how the black ink of his tattoos move. His gaze is unfocused when his eyes finally open, landing on your blanket-wrapped form. A slow smile graces his lips and he rasps, “hey, morning.” There’s a smudge of your dark lipstick on his cheek, partially hidden by his beard. A bruise is sucked into the underside of his bearded jaw and you notice, for the first time, the ragged red nail marks on his shoulders and biceps. He looks like he was attacked by a feral animal - and it’s a jolt to the system when you realize that feral animal had to have been you.

You can’t even find words, mouth gaping open and shut at him like a fish. Now that you’re standing, you finally stop for a second to take stock of your own body. Sticky between the thighs, sore like you’ve never been sore before - in a pleasant, well taken care of way. Your inner thighs feel raw and you know that when you look later, you’re going to find beard burn on the sensitive skin. You can already feel it on your chin and cheeks.

“What is this?” You hold your left hand out to him, the gaudy ring - because now that you’ve gotten a better look at it, it’s not a real diamond, thank god. It’s cubic zirconia or something cloudier than a real diamond and it’s a huge oval, spanning the entirety of your knuckle - glinting in the early morning sunlight.

Tyler squints at you, rolling onto his side before sitting up, either unaware or unconcerned that he’s completely naked and the sheet pools low enough in his lap that you can see the trail of dark hair leading down to his dick and the hair at the very base of him. You try to keep your eyes from looking, but he reaches a hand up and rubs at the back of his neck, making his bicep pop and the sheet move around and you’re only a woman, you can’t help yourself from looking. Your clit throbs between your legs, clearly remembering what happened last night even if most of it after getting eaten out in TAO is a little fuzzy to your brain.

“It’s a ring,” he replies simply, looking like his brain is trying to come back on-line too. He shifts his hand and his eyebrows lift. “Oh, shit. I’ve got one too.”

Your gaze lands on the band on his left ring finger. It’s yellow gold, or something cheap that looks like yellow gold, and you hate that your immediate thought is that it looks good on him. The band contrasts nicely with his skin and he spins it with his thumb, your eyes tracking the rotation.

A little chuckle slips past his lips and you blink at him. He takes in your expression and laughs outright. “Come on, you can’t possibly think we what? Got married last night?” His laugh is warm and too familiar for someone you’ve known less than twelve hours. “That’s a Vegas cliché if I’ve ever heard one.”

You shake your head. “Right, no. Yeah, I’m just being stupid. It’s just—“ you hesitate, glancing around the room again, avoiding looking at him, noticing the - oh god - four condom wrappers discarded on the floor. No wonder you’re so sore. The tenting of the sheet in his lap isn’t doing much to hide his morning wood, the shape of him obvious even with the quick little glances you’ve been sneaking. Four times. It’s a minor miracle that you’re not walking bowlegged.

Tyler stretches again and looks around for something - his clothes, his phone, who knows - while clearly not caring that the sheet is covering next to nothing. “Hey, do you see my phone?” He asks, drawing your attention back to his face. “Just wanna check the time.”

He’s remarkably chill and you’re starting to feel a little crazy for overreacting so much to silly rings bought in a drunken haze. There’s a phone on one of the little decorative tables in the corner of the room and you’re not sure if it’s yours or his, but when you pad across the room to get it, you step on a piece of paper, crumpling it under your heel. Leaning down to pick it up, you fall back on your ass in shock when your eyes land on the words at the top.

Clark County Marriage License

“You okay?” Tyler asks, sounding concerned.

“No,” you manage to squeak out the word around the block in your throat. There in black and white - your name and Tyler’s. Tyler Paul Seguin, apparently, if the document is to be believed. You feel your stomach lurch when you see the date on the license. Last night, New Year’s Eve.

How drunk had you been?

Who the hell had let you get married?

You’re so caught up in the implications of the piece of paper you’re holding that you don’t realize Tyler’s out of bed and squatting next to you, wearing his briefs, thank god.

“Whatcha got - oh,” he cuts himself off, reading the words over your shoulder. “Oh. Shit. Wow.”

He sits down on the floor next to you and you look over at him, eyes wide. “We actually got fucking married in Las Vegas,” you breathe, chest tightening in panic.

“I mean, maybe we didn’t?” He says hopefully. “That’s just a license, doesn’t mean we actually did it.” He taps his fingers absently over one well-muscled thigh, an irregular beat that you somehow sync your breathing to. With a huge effort, you drag your gaze away from his fingers - long and thick and the last you remember, stuffed up your cunt and dragging an orgasm out of your body - and steady your breathing. One hand presses against your chest, fingers digging into your skin like you could reach in and squeeze your heart back into a normal rhythm.

The phone on the tabletop starts buzzing and Tyler reaches up to grab it - “mine,” he says, glancing at the screen and jabs his finger to silence the alarm. He reaches his hand back up on the table and comes back with a handful of Polaroids. He splays them out like a deck of cards and you look at them. “Huh.”

Each picture is blurry as hell, but they’re unmistakably wedding photos. You’ve got a little fluffy veil on. Tyler’s shirt is unbuttoned past is sternum, but tucked neatly into his pants. He’s got you dipped back at the waist, kissing you dramatically. You’re on his back, holding a bouquet of flowers in the air as you kiss his cheek. He’s holding you, chest to chest, one large hand splayed over your bare back, your hand slid underneath his shirt. The Little White Wedding Chapel sign behind you and Tyler in one photo makes what happened last night unavoidable.

“I think we got married,” Tyler states the obvious and you burst into hysterical, gasping laughter. He looks at you, concerned for a beat before starting to laugh himself. It’s not funny at all, but if you don’t laugh, you think you’ll cry.

Once you catch your breath, you hiccup a little noise that sounds like a sob and carefully put the license up on the table. Tyler watches you and then glances back down at his phone, wincing at the time. “So, uh, hate to get married and run, but I have to go,” he taps his phone screen. “I’m on a flight to San Jose in an hour and I really can’t afford to miss that.”

You catch a glimpse of his lock screen and it’s a picture of him cuddling three dogs, which makes you feel marginally better because at least it’s not a woman that he’s cheating on and any man that has his dogs as his phone screen can’t be a total sociopath. A little bit of the knot in your chest unravels.

“San Jose,” you repeat, finally catching onto what he said. “Is that where you live?” You ask the question realizing you know nothing about this man that you’ve married. You didn’t even know his last name until five minutes ago. Oh god. You’re going to have to manage a time difference while filing for divorce. Your thoughts spiral out. Can you even get divorced in a state that’s not Nevada? You should know this, you’re probably the divorce expert in the room. He isn’t giving off divorced man energy, but do you give off divorced woman energy? You hadn’t thought about that and now it’s all you can focus on.

Tyler laughs a little, drawing your attention and stopping your panic attack. “No, thank god. I’m, uh, not to sound conceited,” he says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck, “but you really didn’t recognize me?”

“Should I?” You frown, studying his face. Maybe he looks familiar? But in that way that most dark haired white men look alike. You’re almost positive that you’ve never seen him before.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “This is awkward. But I play for the Dallas Stars, the hockey team? We played Vegas last night, San Jose tomorrow.”

You cock your head at him, this new information sinking in. Dallas. Just thirty minutes from your place in Fort Worth. You’ve obviously heard of the Stars, you don’t live under a rock, but you’ve never been to a game, never cared about sports enough to learn any of the players’ names. It would be a weird thing to lie about, but - “prove it.”

“Prove it?” Tyler repeats incredulously. You nod. He frowns and looks like he’s trying to make a decision. After a second, he huffs a little laugh to himself and mutters, “well, it already worked once,” before unlocking his phone and typing away on the screen. A second later he holds it up next to his face, a Google search open on the screen. A headshot - Tyler’s headshot in a green jersey - looks back at you. He grins wryly, “proof enough?” The search bar at the bottom of the screen shows that he typed in ‘tyler seguin dallas stars headshot’ and misspelled his own name as ‘tylor’ - you don’t know why, but it makes you bite your lip to smother a laugh. The little typo is endearing.

You look back and forth between the screen and Tyler, long enough that he starts to genuinely laugh. “C’mon,” he teases, putting his phone down on his thigh, “you’re a tougher sell than security at the arena.”

“Okay,” you offer him a tiny smile, “I believe you. I’m just, um, a little overwhelmed. I don’t do this kind of thing.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever done it before either,” he replies, shoving a hand through his hair. “I’m going to be on the road for a bit, west coast swing, but if you put your number in my phone, I’ll have my lawyer start working on the paperwork.”

“Paperwork?”

He coughs a little awkwardly. “The divorce? Or annulment? Divorce though right? ‘Cause we obviously slept together,” he gestures at the condom wrappers, “so we can’t just sweep it under the rug. Like Ross and Rachel in Friends.”

“No!” The word slips out before you can stop it and Tyler frowns.

“We can annul it? My knowledge of ending Vegas weddings is pretty minimal.” He pauses and then as if to reassure you, says, “my knowledge of ending marriages in general is pretty limited too.”

“No,” you chew at your lip, “it’s still a divorce. But, fuck, this is mortifying. A second fucking divorce before I’m even 28. Good fucking job with your life.” You mutter the last bit more to yourself than to Tyler, tears welling up in your eyes. That would be the last thing you need, to tell your family and friends about this whole debacle. Literally a week after your first divorce is finalized, you go out and get married again. Drunkenly. In Las Vegas!

Tyler’s eyebrow lifts and he doesn’t ask the question he so clearly wants to ask. You scrub a hand over your face, nausea returning but you’re not sure if it’s the hangover this time or the way he’s looking at you.

“What if,” he says slowly, studying you carefully for a reaction, “what if, we just…didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” You shift, the floor uncomfortable under your sore ass. The blanket wrapped around your body isn’t the softest and you’re starting to sweat a little despite the cold air pumping into the room. Tyler’s presence next to you is becoming distracting, the movement of his chest muscles, the rasp of his voice. Your body wants more of him.

“Didn’t get divorced…” he tilts his head at you, keeps looking you in the eye, even after your jaw drops and the blanket slips a little. “We could, I don’t know, just -“

“Stay married?” You finish for him, eyebrows up in your hairline. He nods, shrugs - why not? “Oh my god.”

Tyler’s phone vibrates on his thigh and he glances down at the alarm. It reminds you that you have no idea where your own phone is and you really, really need to talk to the girls. He jabs at the alarm again and looks apologetic. “I really do have to go,” he gets to his feet and holds out a hand to pull you up. A spark shoots up your arm when his fingers clasp around yours. He doesn’t let go right away, his thumb rubbing against the backs of your fingers. “Think about it,” he looks at you more softly than you think he really should be in this moment. “You said you don’t do this kind of thing,” he continues, “but new year, new you?” The tiny smile he gives you sends your heartbeat into overdrive and this cannot be good for your health.

“Drunk married in Vegas would be a really new me,” you reply faintly. His hand finally falls away from yours and you’re mildly concerned to realize that you miss his touch. Your fingers flex at your side.

His smile doesn’t waver and he reaches out to brush a piece of hair off your cheek, fingertips lingering on your skin. “I’ll be back in Dallas in two weeks. Think about it, I’ll take you to dinner and we can just…go from there.”

He says it so simply, like it’s nothing. Strangely enough, you do feel calmer than you had a few moments ago, Tyler’s steady calm rubbing off on you.

“Okay,” you nod, repeating yourself. “Okay. I’ll…two weeks.”

Tyler grins a little wickedly. “At least we know we’re good together in bed,” he teases, kicking at a condom wrapper with his bare foot.

A laugh startles out of your chest and you find yourself nodding in agreement. “I, ah, definitely agree with that,” you murmur, your entire face flaming with heat.

——

One Year Later - New Year’s Eve. Dallas. TX

Tyler greets you at the door, suited up and bouquet of flowers in hand. “Hi, Mrs. Seguin,” he grins at you.

“Mr. Seguin,” you laugh back, leaning in to loop your arms around his neck and kiss him soundly, nipping at his lower lip. When you pull back, you’re breathless. “Don’t you know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?”

His hands roam up and down your back, catching in the fabric of your sparkly white minidress, sliding up under the hem to knead at the flesh of your ass. He grins wickedly when his hands don’t find any fabric covering your ass. You smirk at him and wink, giggling when he pinches a cheek.

You lean into his touch with a contented purr. If it wouldn’t make you late for your own party, you’d pull him inside the house for a quickie. You’d already had sex this morning - a wedding present, according to Tyler when he’d given you back to back, mind numbing orgasms with his tongue and dick before you’d returned the favor with a blowjob that had rendered him speechless for twenty minutes - but you would never get enough of being in Tyler’s arms.

“Does it count as bad luck if none of the guests know they’re coming to a wedding?” He asks, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Or a vow renewal, technically.”

The last twelve months have been a little insane and honestly, looking back, you don’t think you’d have it any other way.

After getting dressed quickly, Tyler had found your phone wedged in the cushions of the hotel room’s armchair. The battery was nearly drained but your screen was lit up with more than a hundred texts in the group chat with the girls and nearly as many missed calls. When you had finally called back, all three had shrieked that they were twenty minutes away from reporting you missing. You’d kept the little surprise of legally binding matrimony to yourself, but had admitted to the girls that you’d spent the night with Tyler and that he lived in Dallas and that you were going to see where it went. The flight home was full of whispered shrieking and more questions than you had honestly had answers for at the time. The gaudy engagement ring was buried in the bottom of your toiletry case, acting like the tell-tale heart, blood rushing in your head every time you thought about it.

When you got home, you’d shoved the ring in your jewelry box, determined not to think about it, but found yourself absently running the pad of your thumb over the underside of your ring finger when you let your mind wander to Tyler.

After Tyler had returned to Dallas from his two week road trip - during which you’d basically internet stalked him and spiralled out quietly about not filling for a divorce right away - you’d finally decided to give it, give Tyler a chance. He’d texted nearly every day he was gone, sending stupid jokes or a picture of something he thought would amuse you. Worst case scenario, you filed for divorce and went through the process all over again. By the time Tyler took you out for dinner at a quiet dive-y taco place in Fort Worth where you could actually hear each other, both of your memories of the wedding night had returned, although yours were coloured in a hazy film that made the whole thing seem like a fever dream.

The little ceremony had been officiated by an Elvis impersonator, another Vegas cliché, a fact that you’d learned when Tyler had found another Polaroid in his wallet when he was on the plane to San Jose. You’d cracked up when he finally showed it to you in person - Elvis in the middle, clearly past his prime, with you and Tyler on either side of him doing your best air guitar? Maybe?

“I think I’m trying to do an Elvis hip swivel,” Tyler had laughed.

“Whatever it is, it looks like we’re both mid-seizure,” you’d nearly snorted your drink out of your nose. Looking at the photographs was fun now, a little warmth building in the pit of your stomach, not the tight, nauseous coil of anxiety that you’d experienced when you had first seen them.

Other wedding details were still a little hazy, like where you had picked up the rings or what exactly the ceremony had consisted of, beyond being declared man and wife and being told to kiss and cement your “burning love.”

(What you remembered and what Tyler made sure you didn’t forget was just how good you were in bed together. The four condom wrappers on the floor were not an anomaly with Tyler.)

He’d gotten you tickets for games, right up against the glass so he could skate by you during warmups and tap his glove against the glass to capture your attention. After a few games, once you’d decided to really commit to the relationship and were official within your friendship circles, he picked up the habit of blowing you a kiss, grinning when you’d blush.

He’s really good at his job and you’re only a little surprised to find that you actually love watching him play. It’s horrific watching him get hit or tossed into the boards, but when he scores a goal and celebrates in a big hug with his teammates you’re always the first one on your feet, screaming your head off.

You’d brought the girls to a game early on in your relationship and all three of them had been surprised at how comfortable you were in the arena and how quickly you’d picked up the rules of the game. It was hard to explain that you weren’t just trying to make a regular relationship work, but a whole marriage. The stakes were just a little bit higher than usual.

The league had a break for the All-Star Weekend in early February and Tyler had surprised you with a trip to Mexico, where you’d soaked up the sun and gotten to know each other better, giving him all the sordid details about your divorce and sharing stories from your childhoods over icy margaritas and more tacos than your body knew what to do with. He’d told you about his early career, his misbehavior in Boston and how much he loved being in Dallas. The long weekend was slow and lazy, leaving so much time for the two of you to really talk and get to know each other. The experimental sex in a hammock on the beach was the icing on the cake.

After that, it was like a switch flipped and all you wanted to do was be with him. Truthfully, you sometimes forgot that you were thrown into the relationship with a marriage and settled comfortably into dating Tyler, folding each other into your lives, moving in with him, telling him you love him and hearing him say it back, cheering him on when Dallas made it all the way to the Western Conference Finals before being bounced in seven games by, of all teams, the Vegas Golden Knights.

Summer break meant a road trip to Whitby to meet Tyler’s family. A drive that should’ve been two or three days took nearly a week because you kept making random stops to see the silliest monuments advertised on the highways. You’d nearly killed him driving through Illinois, convinced this was the end of the relationship and you’d have to pull the trigger on the divorce, and then he had surprised you by stopping at a corn maze and getting lost in it with you almost immediately. Your stomach had hurt from laughing with him and making out like teenagers.

The trip to his hometown had been beyond fun, getting Tyler to show you his childhood haunts and seeing all the baby pictures of him with his mom telling you stories too.

On the drive back to Dallas, halfway through Oklahoma and in the middle of the night, while you’re pulled over on the side of the road to look at the stars, Tyler asked you to marry him. Again.

This time you had the moment committed to memory, the way Tyler’s hands had been shaking slightly with the black velvet box popped open in his fingers. The way Tyler’s speech rambled, like he hadn’t prepared anything or had forgotten his words just as he started talking, explaining how your relationship had started in an unconventional manner, but he couldn’t picture his life without you now. The way you’d started crying almost the second he had turned to you on the hood of the car with that gorgeous ring glinting at you in the moonlight and how you hadn’t stopped until he’d slid the ring home on your finger and kissed you like he’d never kissed you before.

Over the months, the wedding plan shifts and changes, from a summer wedding so you can have a real ceremony and party, the whole nine yards, to what it actually ends up becoming - a quiet inside joke with the two of you in order to keep your anniversary date, a New Year’s Eve party for your closest family and friends to be surprised at midnight when you and Tyler recite your vows.

It’s much easier to plan a party in six months than it would’ve been to plan a wedding.

Jamie Benn, Tyler’s best friend and the dark haired man in Vegas you had initially thought was just you seeing double, is tapped as the officiant, getting ordained online and getting really into his role, not knowing it’s basically all just a front. He just loves that he’s the only one in on the secret, constantly wearing a shit eating grin any time any of your other friends discuss wedding plans for a summer wedding that’s not going to happen.

“I can’t wait to see everyone’s faces,” you admit, hooking your hand in the crook of Tyler’s elbow and letting him lead you out to the car. He does a double take when he notices your hand.

“What’s that?” He taps on the ring nestled on your ring finger. Your original wedding ring from a year ago had been replaced with a real diamond, still an oval, but smaller and more tasteful. But that’s not what you’re wearing right now.

Your lips twist up in a sly smile. The huge, gaudy cubic zirconia is back on your finger, your second engagement ring tucked safely in its box in your drawer. “It didn’t feel right to get married without it,” you admit, flexing your fingers against his arm so the fake gem will sparkle.

Tyler’s laugh is contagious. “Everyone’s going to ask about it,” he warns you.

“Let them,” you shrug. “I want to wear my original ring on my anniversary.”

Hours later, when the surprise has been pulled off and Jamie announces that Tyler may kiss his bride, you fall into your husband’s arms, kissing him with all that you’ve got.

Fireworks go off outside the venue, the countdown to midnight at less than a minute.

“Happy anniversary, wife,” Tyler grins against your lips, quiet enough that only you can hear him.

Around you, the countdown continues, seconds ticking away until it’s January first.

“Happy New Year, husband,” you whisper back, laughing when he dips you back dramatically.

The party continues well into the early hours of January first, you and Tyler having had the foresight to rent out the venue for twice as long as a normal party. You spend the night flitting between dancing with your friends and cuddling up against Tyler’s side, tucking yourself under his arm and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your cheek is pressed against Tyler’s side, the wrinkled fabric of his button down soft under your skin. Your fingers play with the buttons, slipping them from their holes one by one until his shirt is more unbuttoned than not.

Tyler smirks down at you, his hand rubbing an arc over your hip, rucking up the fabric with each upward stroke of his hand, exposing your thigh inch my inch. “Undressing me already, wife? Can’t wait for the wedding night?” He winks at you and you laugh into his chest.

“I think that ship has sailed,” you murmur, sliding your hand under the unbuttoned shirt and over the smooth skin of his stomach, ridged muscles dancing under your touch. You yawn a little, the weird combination of overtired and wide awake making your brain buzz.

Tyler holds you close and leans down a little to whisper in your ear, “want your anniversary gift?”

“Mmm,” you hum, “I thought I already got my gift this morning?”

“That was a wedding gift,” Tyler teases. “This is an anniversary gift, and no, it’s not in my pants.”

You giggle and look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. “Shame, I like what’s in your pants.”

“I’ll give you that later,” he promises, dropping a kiss to your forehead. “Come on, I stashed it in the coat closet.”

He tangles his fingers with yours and leads you off, getting stopped every few feet by someone else who wants to gush about what a great surprise the party was. “Just couldn’t wait another minute to marry her,” Tyler grins in response every time, making you laugh at his side, the inside secret of your Vegas marriage a warm fizz in your chest.

When you finally escape off to the coat closet, you try to loop your arms around Tyler’s neck and lift up on your toes to kiss him. He obliges you happily, cupping the back of your head and giving you a searing kiss before pulling away. You whine, “I thought we were sneaking off for a wedding night quickie?”

“I literally told you that your gift wasn’t in my pants,” Tyler laughs, kissing your cheek. “Why would you think I wasn’t being serious?”

Your hands find their way underneath his shirt again, fingertips digging into the muscles of his back, and drawing yourself closer to him. “Because I wanted you to be kidding,” you reply. “A little coat closet quickie would be a fun way to start the year.”

“And normally, I’d agree, baby. But I think you’re gonna like this gift,” he leans forward and reaches behind you, giving you the opportunity to press your nose against his collarbone. When he pulls back, he has a fairly large, flat wrapped package in his hand.

“What’s that?” You ask, taking the gift from Tyler as he leans back a little, shoulders resting against the wall, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. The package is lighter than you thought it would be.

He nudges your foot with his, “open it.”

“I didn’t get you anything,” you chew at your lower lip. Neither of you had really discussed the fact that it’s your anniversary or gift giving and now you’re a little embarrassed that you hadn’t thought about it. You sway a little on your feet, fingers ripping a little at the corners of the paper until it crumples under your touch and the corner of the gift pokes through.

Tyler shakes his head. “Don’t care. It’s kind of something for both of us anyway,” he says and you wait for the little joke, the tease that you can let him unwrap you later, but it never comes and that’s how you know your husband is about to make you cry with whatever this gift is.

You can feel Tyler watching you as you pull back the paper - leftover Christmas wrapping that’s so clearly been wrapped by a man, too much tape and messy folds. God, you love him - and expose a frame. It takes you a second to process what’s behind the glass, but when you do, you hiccup a little gasp and tears well at your lash line.

Behind the glass is your marriage license with last year’s date and your pair of wobbly signatures. The Polaroids you’d taken that night surround the license and you trace trembling fingertips over the image of you kissing Tyler on the cheek.

“Tyler…” your voice cracks on his name and he gives you a soft little smile.

“This year his been batshit insane, baby,” he leans into your personal space and cups your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone. “But I’m really glad you’re the one I drunk Vegas married.”

Tears are sliding down your cheeks and you nod, “I’m really glad you’re the one I drunk Vegas married, too.”

His laugh is muffled by all the coats surrounding you, but it’s warm and it feels like home. He pulls you into a hug, the frame smushed between your bodies and digging into your stomach, but you don’t care. Tyler’s hand curls around the back of your neck and you wipe at your eyes with the back of your wrist, black mascara smudges streaking across your skin. You giggle a little wetly, “I’m such a mess, oh my god.”

“Everyone will just think you dragged me off so you could have your wicked way with me,” Tyler teases, smirking at you.

“Coat closet quickie for the newlyweds,” you reply, grinning. You settle the frame on the floor, the back of it leaning against your leg, and really wrap your arms around Tyler’s neck, pressing a kiss against the hollow of his throat. The spice of his cologne invades your nostrils and you press your nose harder against his throat, enveloped in his warmth.

Tyler rests his chin on the top of your head and hums, rolling his hips against yours lazily so you can feel the bulge behind his fly. “I could give you a real quick one, just to make sure you don’t have to lie,” he ducks his head to whisper in your ear, kissing at the hinge of your jaw. His hand slides down to graze your ass and you’re nearly ready to say yes, suddenly desperate for him, when a loud bang on the door has you jumping back, heart pounding from the shock, nearly cracking Tyler’s chin with your head. The frame bounces off your leg with your movement, falling to the floor with a little clatter that you hope isn’t broken glass.

“Fuck!” He yelps and you clap your hands over your heart, gasping. “Jesus, who is it?”

Jamie’s voice is choked with laughter as it comes through the door. There’s a slight slur to his words too, as he shouts, “stop fucking on everyone’s coats, we’re doing body shots.”

Your jaw drops open and Tyler rolls his eyes at the interruption. He bangs on the door with a hand and shouts back, “fuck off! I’m trying to spend some time with my wife.”

“Actually,” you say slowly, a little smirk forming on your face, “body shots could be fun…”

“Yeah?” Tyler lifts an eyebrow at you, palm flat on the door.

“Yeah,” you confirm with a wicked grin, “you know I like the way champagne tastes on your skin.”

Tyler’s eyes shut like he’s in pain and your gaze slides down to see the bulge in his pants grow. “You’re a fucking menace and I’m so fucking glad you’re my wife,” he mutters, grabbing you around the waist and hauling you out of the coat closet, nearly knocking Jamie over in his hurry, your shrieked giggles drowned out by the music from the party.

The next morning, afternoon really by the time you finally open your eyes, you wake up with half of your body draped over Tyler’s completely naked one. His hip and thigh is securely wedged between your legs, his morning wood hot against the outside of your thigh. One of your arms is in the sleeve of Tyler’s button down, the rest of the fabric draped over your back like a blanket. The hangover pounds at your temples and the sunlight blinds you and it’s such a deja vu moment you almost think you’re back in Vegas, right until the moment Tyler’s hand twitches against your lower back and he rubs his bearded chin against the top of your head. You melt against him, sighing happily.

“Anniversary party slash vow renewal every New Year’s Eve?” Tyler rasps against your hair, sliding his hand up your spine.

You hum into his skin, “as long as you get me electrolytes and a greasy breakfast on January first, I’m in.”

“How about a headache relieving orgasm first?” Tyler rolls you gently onto your back, already kissing a path down your body. You shiver with each brush of his lips and your legs fall open for him to slot himself between them. He rests his chin on your hip bone and looks up at you with a soft look in his eyes that doesn’t match the hungry smirk that curves his lips.

“What?” You ask, angling your neck to look at him, raking a hand through his hair, making it messier than it already was. There’s a little streak of glitter against his temple and you brush your thumb over it, wiping the smudge away.

He shakes his head a little. “Just thinking about this past year,” he lifts one shoulder in an awkward shrug. “How fun it’s been, how glad I am that we did the surprise last night.”

“Getting soft on me, Seguin?” you tease, poking at his side with your foot. He wiggles away a little from your touch, ticklish even though he won’t admit it.

“You know I’m anything but soft for you,” he laughs, nipping at your skin. “Let me prove it.” He presses a kiss against your hip bone and then lower and then there’s no more thoughts, just you and Tyler and the rest of forever stretching out in front of you.

[goodolddumbbanana]

(Molten/Sun) - Honeytrap duo- A mix between dream and reality

TW: toture, depressed, self hated... It is Sun angsty, what are you expect? But for real, this chap maybe a littler uncomfortable, please be aware before you read it.

The overly cold and harsh white light of Moon’s lab no longer made him feel nervous like before.

The space was clean and silent as if it had been covered with a layer of powder, only the slow movement of the worn gears, too soft to become white noise buzzing in Sun’s ears.

The yellow animatronic sat down on the sofa, staring at the floating fire created by his magic. The color seemed unreal, too beautiful for nature, pure in liquid gold, like amber and honey mixed together into a dripping mess in a pot of lava, crumbling and crashing into each other like shooting stars falling down.

***

'Huff! Huff!' 

Sun ran in panic, trying to avoid the fiery arrows that were flying repeatedly at him. Darkness maliciously covered Sun's vision, only the lava lakes that were boiling and waiting for him to fall, has become a tool to guide Sun ironically, the high temperature was so harsh that he coughed.

"Come on Sun, you don't want to die again, do you?" The Creator's hateful voice rang out from The Thing mockingly, enough to make Sun, if he still had the strength to scream right now, he would have thrown the most vicious curses at that motherfucker's face.

*Swoosh!*

An arrow pierced Sun's left leg, the plastic pieces were torn apart, half of his endoskeleton was exposed and stuck to Sun's upper thigh before Sun's lack of vigilance made him fall into the waiting lava mouth.

***

It didn't really hurt to the point unbearable, Sun mused, even as the metal surface in his palm turned into a sooty black.

***

The pain hit him instantly, immediately overloading his system. It was too much, too hot. His insides were contracting and twisting together, brass flowing through Sun’s lenses. His vision was the first to go, as the heavy metallic liquid melted his entire plastic shell, igniting like New Year’s Eve fireworks. The smell of oil and tar mixed with smoke and fire, and patches of flame flew everywhere as he struggled to free himself from the pulsing lake.

He didn’t even get a chance to scream, as the terrifying heat melted his entire sensory system.

***

The sharp, merciless pain was enough to make Sun’s body weak and quiver, but it still kept his mechanical mind awake and gritting its teeth to endure. The cold, vague fear of letting things go too far crawled in Sun’s too-empty chest, but the inertia of Sun’s nature made him reluctant to move. A few fire alarms sounded in his system, as black spots began to move at the edges of Sun’s eyes like annoying beetles.

He should have thrown the fireball away, or let it burn out.

But Sun didn’t, just watched indifferently as his magic tore itself apart, pouring long streaks of fire through Sun’s hands like mist and smoke drifting through his endoskeletons.

It was a pointless act, using his own magic to destroy himself. Like trying to kill a beast with its own teeth, or letting a fish choke on water.

It was impossible, because the nature of magic was his to control.

Sure, it could get out of control. Sure, it could exhaust Sun.

Sure, it could get his hands bloody and cause Sun a year of trauma.

Kill one brother. Destroy another one…

But it could never hurt Sun himself. Not physically.

And if the pain he felt was fake, the product of what his bastard father left, who thought it was funny to simulate the human nervous system’s response, then why did Sun keep trying to trigger it?

***

“The two of you,always being so dramatic. Your body’s sensor system is burned out, and honestly, I didn’t even increase your pain sensitivity this time, but you still act like you’re about to die.” He clicked his tongue.

“So pathetic, Sun. What a waste of my sweat and effort in creating you. What a disappointment.”

It was strange that Sun was still conscious, forced to listen to even that bastard’s whining and scolding.

“I should have scrapped you when your rebellious phase appeared, but no, you had to be this useful.”

“It is sad that you can’t even obey or be obedient to your papa.”

“Oh well, guess whatever happens next, you only have yourself to blame, Sun…”

“Oh, what has your brother used to say? Oh right, I would make your life a living hell, Sun. Try to enjoy it this time, okay~~~” 

***

Sun didn’t know, honestly, he has become so tired and aching instinctively every time he continues to think too deeply about the nature of why his life was so terrible. It just went from one depression to another, never ending the cliche emptiness like a stone pressing down on Sun’s chest preventing him from breathing freely whenever he opened that can of worms.

So Sun closed it again. Put it away, packed away the horrible pathetic, unsolvable, unhelpful thought and sunk it deep into the deepest corners of Sun's mind and took a deep breath.

"Shut up."

He told that to himself. A rather bad but effective coping mechanism, something Sun had picked over time for whenever he had an 'episode'.

He would automatically empty his mind. Think of it like deleting the hard drive, or throwing everything that made him feel uncomfortable into the ocean.

The information, the data, the bad memories… would still be there, in Sun's little head, just out of reach, blurred at the edges enough that Sun felt he could look deeply into it and still feel comfortable.

Even though he knew that the empty writhing feeling wouldn't stop even if there was nothing left in Sun's brain, as if his mechanical body was trying to warn him that there was some serious wrong affect him mentally, Sun keeps continued to do this in stupid stubbornness as if to scream to the whole world to leave him alone.

***

“One finger, two fingers…” Sun gritted his teeth, refusing to scream as The Thing patiently broke each of his fingers. “I’ve been watching your channel, Sun. The game Ruin created is honestly pretty fun. Tell me Sun, how many more joints do I have to break before you’ll behave like a good son?”

“You son of a bitch, what the hell do you need answers for!” Sun screamed, wishing he could bite off the tendrils holding him to that chair and march over to The Thing. “You’re not even real!! You’re not even him!!!”

***

Earth would say it would hurt him in the long run, but his sister wasn’t here. And as much as he hated that it felt like he was betraying Earth by agreeing to the Nexus, Sun didn’t think his sister could heal him on this.

***

The red mist made the Thing's face look like a jumbled mess. But one of Sun's eyes, –Sun ignored the fact that the other had been pulled out, the wires still stuck in his sockets– could still see the virus's vaguely satisfied smile…

That motherfucker… Sun thought they were just viruses, but they actually enjoyed doing this…

“Does it matter if I'm not the Creator?” The Thing tilted his head, his slow, even voice speaking to Sun for the first time, his real voice.

***

Because Sun was fine. He wasn't lying. His problems were in fact too small compared to their lives that were always on the brink of danger. And honestly, if Sun ignored the feeling that sometimes made him want to rip out his internal wires or scratch away the metal webs that turned the gold to the original aluminum gray on his body long enough, it would feel like nothing was there.

A rattling noise from the attic made Sun blink.

The fire in Sun's hand disappeared, the embers hovering over Sun's shoulder like fireflies. The anxiety made his stomach churn.

Oh… He forgot he wasn't alone.

There were Moon and Solar in the basement leading to another lab, but that didn't count. The two of them were too busy with their research, especially when the biggest weight named Goliath was illegally residing down there, threatening to find a way to escape.

And don't mention Ruin… Sun groaned. The nakedness of handing the codes to Ruin still made Sun tremble. The nauseating fear, along with the anger and bitterness of not knowing what the killer had killed Solar has planned and a series of tons of danger around him keep coming up made Sun feel dirty and anxious.

He knew he should think positively, but his poor mind kept making assumptions about what would happen if Sun’s agreement would bite him in the ass in the future someday or if Goliath would break free.

Because Sun had been around long enough to realize there was a pattern going on around here. Whenever he felt the slightest bit of joy or peace, life would appear and crush that remnant of hope right before his eyes with a patient delight that was all too similar to his creator’s.

It was almost comical, like they were stuck in a never-ending show if it weren’t so sad.

***

“Can you stop whining, Sun. You keep blaming the world for the things that were your fault.” ‘Creator’ asked kindly, a pair of glasses perched on his oversized brain as a mockery of Earth’s therapy profession. “I wonder why Nexus has stuck that long with you before he realized the truth.” 

“That you are the problem.”

***

“Do you need help, Molten?”

The bear heaved another sheet of plastic up the stairs, his deep concentration reminding him of Funtime Freddy’s obsession with anime girls.

Perhaps this spectrum was part of Funtime Freddy’s code, just like how all Suns were obsessed with cleaning?

And how every Moons had a crazy phase?

‘Shut up, brain, not now.’ Sun muttered, feeling overly exposed as his brain had nothing to do other than occasionally think about some stupid things.

“No, I can do it myself, Sun.” Molten answered him seriously, but right after that, an awkward tearing sound rang out. The cardboard inside Molten’s hand had a piece of hair on the tip ripped out, and the bear’s claws had also pierced a pretty big hole in the anime cover’s shoulder.

***

“Hey Sun, if I pull you in two different directions, which part of you do you think will be left bigger? The left or the right one?” - The sunflower-colored animatronic had its arms and legs spread out, tightly wrapped in midair, a parody of how Spider-Man stopped the train with his web.

“Nevermind, Let’s check it out, shall we?” Sun only had time to hear the train roar before a huge force crashed heavily on the back of his face.

***

“Oh.” Molten looked regretfully, still holding the cover in his hand, the way Sun was all too familiar with the kids inside the daycare. This is the image of a child breaking his toy and not knowing what to do next.

“Uh— There are a lot of models here, you can choose another one, Molten.” Sun stuttered, pointing at the anime figures that were huddled together, something he still couldn’t figure out how they had appeared in Moon’s lab.

“But I just like this lady…”

Sun should have felt sorry for Molten’s loss, but it was quite funny. It made Sun take a deep breath to suppress the laughter that would escape Sun’s mouth and come up with another solution that would make Molten happier.

“Um… Do you want me to fix it for you? I’m pretty good at cutting and pasting…”

Needless to say, Molten’s admiring gaze made Sun feel a little embarrassed.

They all sat down at the table, glue and scissors strewn about in Molten’s rather quick hands. The bear tried to help by handing Sun some tape, but seeing Molten struggling in the pile of tape and scrap paper, Sun stopped asking the bear while trying not to giggle.

It was great, just sitting like this, without thinking about anything else. Sun unconsciously looked at Molten fondly, who was trying to fix the cardboard for himself without paying attention to anything around him.

The faint blue light in Molten’s eyes and the rustling sound of paper and cardboard made Sun’s nervousness subside quietly. He shouldn’t worry too much about… Ruin or Creator… Not when his brothers were still here… And Molten was getting better, developing to become his own person.

“Hey Molten… May I ask…Are you okay? I heard you were almost taken by Goliath…” Sun timidly looked down at the red ribbon wrapped around his arm.

He wasn’t good at starting heavy conversations like this, when his nature was to literally create for the entertainment of others.

Which was in fact the complete opposite. Sun was good at annoying and ruining other people’s lives, not providing peace of mind and trust.

That was more Moon’s thing…

“Oh… Yeah… But Goliath can’t do anything to me… Why do you ask, Sun?”

“Just worried.” Sun muttered. “And… you don’t… I mean… I know you don’t like fighting anymore…”

The image of Molten going crazy as he pinned Ruin to the ground, the uncontrolled excitement bordering on anger, reminded Sun of the first days when he met Molten. Sun couldn’t help it, he stood still and motionless, just like always…

***

“Since you’re so good at being useless, I have a little game for you, Sun.” Creator wore an orange helmet, a small whistle hovering beside him. The gloomy darkness was only illuminated by the moonlight that illuminated the skinny body of the clown animatronic, revealing a garbage pit littered with rats as big as human biceps.

“Stand still and don’t move.” Sun stiffened, trying his best not to tremble. Thousands of red eyes stared at Sun, their fanged mouths gaping around him. The suffocating smell of sewers triggered Sun’s cleaning instincts, the water sloshing and soaking the hems of his pants with the green-brown color of filthy mud. “You don’t want to be these beasts’ chew toys, do you?”

“Oops! I screwed up.” Creator chuckled as he poured a bucket of blood over Sun, as a signal for the rats to pounce into the poor robot.

The screeching was interspersed with the sound of metal and wire ripping. Some stood craning their necks and squealing in Sun’s eye sockets, others came out of his mouth. In this almost unreal, fantastical pain, Sun wondered if this nightmare would ever end.

***

“I like helping people, Sun…” Molten tilted his head to look at Sun. “And Ruin is the one who needs to be stopped…”

“But I mean… you don’t have to do that. You can just go far away, away from here, to a place where Creator can’t find you.” Sun’s hand rose unconsciously as if to pull his rays apart. “You don’t have to help us, especially when it could put you in danger again…”

Sun tried not to be too sentimental, but his voice grew rougher and quieter as he spoke. His mouth was full of gravel, and as Molten’s hand rose, the metallic light reflected off the wire, causing Sun instinctively recoiled.

“I don’t like hurting people,‌ Sun.” Molten’s soft, rusty voice rang out. His hands slowly turned down, so subtle without saying anything. “I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“But I still owe you guys. I owe Moon, I owe Solar, and you Sun. Without you guys, I’d still be like‌ Goliath, still blindly following some rotten code.”

“You helped me become who I am, so I want to return your favor.”

The silence was like wanting to drown Sun down.

“It’s okay Sun… I want to help.”

You don’t understand. The very thing you wanted to do would be the very first door leading you to hell. I know it because I have been through it.

Sun thought bitterly.‌ How long would it be before another unfortunate soul got tangled up in his family’s mess?

Like KC?

Or Evelyn?

Sun tried to ignore Nexus’s name that came out of his head.

“You don’t have to do what you don’t want to do, you know that, Molten?” Sun said in a low voice, the sound of water flowing steadily in his ears.

“Yeah… And neither do you,‌ Sun.”

The sharp blue eyes stared at Sun, forcing Sun to look away. He would rather focus on the greenery in the room than Molten’s face right now, a confusing combination of an old, profound mind and an innocent brain.

“Haha…‌ I have absolutely no idea what you mean, Molten.”

Sun's laugh was so barren, it reminded even Sun himself of broken glass or the howl of a dying animal.

***

“It’s sad you’ll forget everything when you wake up…” The Thing looked bored as it poked at Sun’s shattered body parts. “Although, with your numbskull brain, I guess you don’t even understand what’s going on even if you are aware of it…”

“See you in the next dream, my brother…”

[hils79]

Hils Watches The Spirealm - Ep 17

I'm not sure that's how depression works...

I've watched enough Street Dance of China to know that SuperX does not make wine. That's beer.

Uh oh one of Ling Jiushi's friends has a crush on Ruan Lanzhu. Time for the jealousy shoe to be on the other foot

Dude you are literally a game developer who plays a game that can literally kill you. Maybe keep your morality about gaming to yourself.

I love him

He's very judgemental at the moment

Ling Jiushi is a good influence on him

That's what I just said

I'm not sure suriving a life endangering game has anything to do with whether you're interesting or not

Okay, he is literally saying everything I'm saying right after I say it

Wait, I thought it was always 15 minutes in the real world regardless of how long you spend inside a door

Ehehe! Is it just going to be the two of them alone in the house while everyone else visits their families for the holidays

They are totally going to bang in every room of the house while everyone else is away

Oh they're not alone! I totally forgot about this dude! So sorry!

I'd be pissed off if randos showed up at my house on New Year's Eve too

Wow you certainly know how to push your luck

Is he finally starting to get a clue?

He mentioned this during the previous case where he could see stuff in the photo where no one else could. Is that ever going to be explained or is it like Ling Jiushi's superhearing

Now kiss?

Oh no a haunted mental hospital? I'm scared already and nothing has even happened yet

Nope, I hate it already

[spotlightlowlife]

How innocent Lucifer/girl boss Lilith could work

Since it's now been decided that Lucifer has been defeated and depressed, but no less fun all these years

while Lilith thrived as soon as Lucifer's hell became a thing, and now she is being called on to step up, how could these be used to explain away

• the messy hierarchy

• the shithole that is hell

• the other six sins

• the other demons that aren't sinners

Unfortunately, blame it all on Lilith could be the solution

(it's not like there isn't form for this already).

First off, she will slot in easily to the mothers trend.

Lilith being no angel but a human, perhaps not having much power of her own outside of her prestigious marriage and no respect from the heaven borns, only really having a connection to the once human sinners and whatever few prehistoric people that are somewhere in the crowd of the abundance of new people born over millennias could be why things are such a mess?

Lucifer could easily be the equivalent of the sugar daddy (again, form on multiple occasions) who is the investor and landlord who ultimately has to be answerable for what goes on in his turf on his tab, reluctant or not.

Absolutely anything goes in this realm.

Maybe it's because the true owner doesn't want to bother and the manager can only do so much? A workplace like this tends to be chaotic and all things serious stop mattering.

Since Lilith had fame

her popularity could easily lead to some leadership since fans and maybe an entourage will look up to her and certian people in certain places may rub shoulders with her, now look into the old stories of Lilith, who was said to have left Adam to live in another part of the garden to hang out with demons and have an affair with the devil, it all cosigngs Hazbin Lilith.

Since she was able to hang with Lucifer, what if she too befriended the other six sins?

What if she's the one doing business with them?

What if they're hired middle management helping to create order out evil?

What if Lilith is one if the sins?

Though the Hazbin series focuses solely on the sinners where the pilot didn't, we all know that there are various races of demons in hell, now look at the three sins we have met, along with additional royalty Stolas and Paimon (who seems to have children of various kinds)

they don't look remotely alike, so what if the sins or other high ups like them touched down in hell with 'lesser' little demons like them?

The sinners could simply be Lucifer's reluctant responsibility because the fruit was his doing, maybe he and Lilith did cheat heaven accepted Adam or blamed and not worked upon Eve out or a god role over their descendants?

Are we supposed to believe that Lilith has no knowledge of good and evil (what the fruit historically contained)?

How true is Charlie's storybook?

What if Lilith hazbin Eve all along?

[justineangelrococo]

Hazbin and Helluva boss theories spoiler talk as well.

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Alrighty before the new episodes come out I have a theory I want to put out

These three right here Lucifer, Lilith, and Eve are why hell is the way it is, I'm calling it now and I want to be wild with this theory for a moment. These three were in a poly relationship or situationship, or just friends, or Eve might have been like fuck you dude after her experiences with Adam, and was just friends with Lilith.

Now as we know when Lucifer fell and was sent to hell he got majorly depressed, he is not doing well its hard to say he is functional, as someone with depression he needs help but he gave up. Which is hard and something you can't do especially when you have a child, Eve could have pointed it out, maybe in Charlie and Lilith's best interest maybe not. But we're going to say they left together and raised Charlie together maybe with Eve maybe being her nanny, her tutor who knows but she was there, she has to be because she definitely isn't in heaven from what we have seen.

They could have been twinning it up if the theory is they look identical is correct but I don't know about that, Adam's face looks a screen monitor, and his exorcists follow that trend, which makes me think she's static, the static you see on the TV when you have no signal or looking for a channel and the antenna isn't in a ok position, and you know what this fits to me at least.

Let's look at Lilith in hazbin hotel, she is audible, music song, her voice, Soundwaves carrying empowering messages and songs.

Visual and Audible, almost like two other characters we see Alastor, and Vox. Alastor being audible with radio and his waves casting his shows out, and Vox with his shows, tech, all of the media that requires being seen. Vox is always trying to get at Alastor, what if their relationship is a mirror of Lilith and Eve's. Eve jealous or wanting to be close to Lilith, who knows maybe Eve is the one Alastor made a deal with and the reason he was so mad at Lucifer is because Eve might have been at Lilith's side and this man hasn't done a thing, after years of help raise his daughter now he shows up, like boy if you don't you'r behind out of here like go! Or maybe Alastor did make a deal with Lilith and after hanging out having sometime with the girls got the tea and about Lucifer seeing how he is a parent and was like no, and now has a beef with him.

Which leads us to our other thing why haven't we seen Eve, anything about her seems just hidden or lock and key, we never see anything but her smile, never her eyes which makes you think right, another bit into this ramble of a theory I got eyes are the windows to the soul, straight to the heart right does Eve even have one, like is she a good person, what kind of a person was she because the smile she wears might not be a kind one, she is the mother of Cain and Able and all the other humans, Adam is a asshole, but what is Eve.

Is Eve angry because maybe Lucifer and Lilith didn't take her with them, now she's stuck with Adam and being the eternal scapegoat for years for eating the fruit. Being the reason people put down women because they are her daughters, this could be a big revenge plan on heaven, for letting Adam when he doesn't deserve it into heaven. Lucifer and Lilith for giving her the fruit and ruining everything about humanity, for heaven for creating humanity and letting them suffer, to go through it all and end up in hell

Or the other sad theory is Lilith is Dead, more than likely do to Lucifer and, Eve is fucking pissed but you know what they continue the relationship and someone has the idea for her to pretend to be Lilith, maybe for Charlie's best interest for hell's best interest. Because Lucifer isn't running the show, someone has too mind you the show being run is awful but it's running and why do I say it's awful. Because when you look at helluva boss and the treatment of some hellborn demons they have their problems like when Blitz when to go take Loona for her shots and it took as long as it did for them to even be seen.

Which Lucifer doesn't care about, the other leaders of the rings and the other people in charge don't care the system works for them, Imps, hellhounds. But at the sametime it's supposed to be awful its hell, but at the sametime the people it's supposed to punish can't even leave the top layer, so why is awful in some of the other layers, mainly because the others are left to their own devices, when leading their rings, Mammon is a piece of shit, but Asmodeus isn't as bad of a guy as you would think, Beelzebub as we see her isn't either. Now my other reason why Lucifer doesn't care as much, they don't have his gift, humans have his gift of knowledge and have souls, the hellborn as we know don't have a soul, not sure gonna need to get more proof on this but this is a theory ramble.

The angels and heaven created hell to keep Lucifer in so he would be punished and never see the good results of his work they would be in heaven, out of reach. That doesn't mean he doesn't care about them a little bit he made sure that the hellborn, and his daughter would be spared from being killed by heaven.

But yeah this is my theory rant until the new episodes until they come out or the brain gets going again. I was filled with all thes jumbled thoughts sorry if it wasn't as well organized but I just wanted to get them out folks, hopefully other people also see me and go ayyyyy I had those theories too and remember this is all this is all for fun and just some theory and rambles.

[thedeviltohisangel]

FOR A FORTNIGHT THERE WE WERE

A little something about Evelyn and Callum at the screening in LA last weekend xoxo

“Do you want to go to the Dodgers game tomorrow night?” Ev had been daydreaming out the window of the Escalade currently taking them to a screening and reception of Masters of the Air.

“Sure that’d be fun.” He held her hand in between them and brought it to his lips.

“You feeling ok? You’ve been quiet the whole ride.”

“Just preemptively tired. I have to fly to New York Monday morning for the premiere.” More and more recently she had just wanted to cocoon herself in blankets at their home, wherever that may be, and never leave. She hoped it wasn’t another bout of depression rearing its ugly head. “I’ve just been feeling a little different lately. Like I’m back in the same headspace I was before we started filming. I don’t know. I can’t explain it.” While he hadn’t known her well before Masters of the Air, he had only met her a few times at parties, he had known she was not herself that first day of their chemistry read.

“You’ve been super fucking busy between press for dragon and press for this and the fact that you insist you can try to be in New York and Scotland in the same day-“ that got a smile across her face “-maybe your body is just telling you it needs to rest a little bit.”

“You forgot that I’m the best girlfriend ever and have been flying to Vancouver every chance to see you,” she teased. “Please add that to your list.” Callum laughed and threw his arm around her should to pull her in close.

“I love you. Wouldn’t want you any other way but want you to take care of yourself. If you need a break, you need a break.” But breaks meant silence and Evelyn had never really been good in the silence.

“Having you back in LA this weekend is kind of like a break.” They’d spent the day lounging in bed before walking Golo to a farmers market, buying flowers and bagels and plants for the herb garden Evelyn had started tending to in their back yard. No one had stopped them for selfies and if people were taking photos, she hadn’t bothered to notice. It had felt good and normal to hold his hand and live her life if only for a few hours.

“You made me pinky promise to still spend every weekend with you while filming!” She giggled as the car pulled up to the curb to drop them off, her publicist, assistant and representatives from the Apple PR department waiting to greet them.

“I did and so far that’s meant me going to Canada and not the other way around. So technically I only encumbered myself with that one.” The longer they were together, the more horrible being apart felt. They were both committed to not letting distance get the best of them during the busiest year of their life. Every weekend one of them was on a plane to go be with the other. They were two halves of the same whole and wouldn’t survive if kept apart. “Hi Tracy,” she greeted as Callum held her hand to help her out of the car.

“Hi you two.” Evelyn wrapped her in a hug and then gripped his hand tightly as he led them in the direction of the party. She made sure to wave to fans that had collected on the sidewalk and posed for some photos from afar as they held their phones up. “Let’s make sure you get an individual shot with all the other actors here for from the other shows and then we can do all the cast group shots at once, okay?” Ev nodded as she took a welcome drink and smiled, a line of people already forming to talk to her and try and snap a selfie for their social media. She greeted all of them with a practiced ease that had them feeling like they were the only person in the world with her for those few moments. It was a skill that she had honed early in her career and had fared her very well.

“I got to go check on that handsome lad over there but I’ll find you after!” She kissed Maya Rudolph’s cheeks and did her best to not get pulled aside too many times on her way to Callum.

“Must be hard to be so popular,” Gary teased as Ev hugged him tightly.

“Can’t take you anywhere,” Cal mumbled as he leaned down to kiss her. She smiled against his lips and used her hand on his neck to keep him there for an extra peck.

“I can’t hide when I’ve got a bean stalk following me around so I might as well embrace the attention.” Gary laughed, her arms wrapping around Callum’s waist and cheek resting on his chest.

“You two are so good together. I take all the credit.” Gary had been there when they’d met at the chemistry. Had watched the infatuation only increase from that moment forward. Not so subtlety, Evelyn noticed his eyes flicker to her bare ring finger and deflate a little. “I’m going to go make sure everything’s set in the theater. I’ll see you both in there.” She kissed his cheek in farewell and Cal offered him a one handed hug.

“You good? Need another drink?” Evelyn shook her head and rested her chin on her chest so she could look up at him.

“I love you. Just happy to be here with you. Happy that we can keep celebrating this show that brought us together.” He dropped a kiss to her nose.

“I love you even more, how about that?” It earned him a giggle as she turned to remove herself from his embrace, Callum kissing the top of her head as she sighed.

“I’ve got a few more people to get photos with before Tracy yells at me. I’ll find you before the cast photos.”

“Love you, baby.” An arm around her shoulders pulled her back into his orbit so he could kiss her again.

“Love you, Cali Wali.” He blushed at the little nickname she normally saved for the privacy of one of their homes. “Handsome when you blush.”

“Good thing you think so cause I seem to do it a lot around you.” She almost let it slip that she hoped their future kids inherited his propensity for handsome blushing. But she bit her tongue just in time. Since their pregnancy scare a couple weeks ago, Evelyn hadn’t been able to stop thinking about a baby. Like the moment in time where it might have been true had opened a door inside of her. There was still no strong desire in her bones to get married again but now there was one to become a mother. To share in that honor with the man in front of her. “Where’d you go, Ev?” He furrowed his brows and brushed some hair from her cheek.

“Sorry. Just thinking for a minute. I’ll see you in a little bit.” With a final kiss to his cheek, she was off before he could reel her back in. She didn’t know how to broach the conversation. Didn’t know how he’d react to her rejection of his attempts at proposing but her desire to have a child. Would he feel confused? Betrayed? Like he couldn’t have what he wanted but was expected to give her what she wanted? Her hand shook as she made her way towards Karen and Josiah with a smile. The more distractions, the better.

-

Anthony gave her the loudest kiss on the cheek she had ever received and Evelyn giggled at the tickling sensation.

“Missed you, pretty girl,” he smiled as she hugged him and the cameras snapped endlessly.

“Anto, what the fuck is on your face?” she teased as she poked the facial hair.

“Swoon all you want.”

“Bel and I show up looking like ladies, Cal and Nate even shaved for this and you brought that.” Cal rested his arm around her shoulders and her hand reached up to twine their fingers together.

“You loved the mustache when Cal had it!”

“Not a great argument,” Bel cautioned.

“Okay let’s gather round and smile at the camera.” They all set their laughing aside to smile professionally, Evelyn not allowing Callum to move his hand, her arm around his waist where she stood on the end. Fully in his embrace exactly where she liked to be.

“Everyone make sure you come to the screening. Evelyn will be giving a speech!” Anthony announced to laughs from the crowd and a loving roll of Evelyn’s eyes.

“I’ll give one to spare you the pain, baby,” Callum offered.

“I’m claiming the Emmy speech, Anthony. And you won’t be mentioned if you keep up this behavior.” Anthony stuck his tongue out as she chased after him towards the theater. Everyone laughing at their sibling banter the entire way.

“Don’t let that one go.” Callum looked over at Gary.

“I’m trying my best,” he joked back. “Doesn’t get any better than her. Than this.”

He caught her gaze over her shoulder as she looked to make sure he was coming up behind her. Yeah. This. This was once in a lifetime.

[kendsleyauthor]

I also love your new characters! But I love your old ones too. If you’re still doing prompts, dealers choice for #11? You’re amazing ❤️

SNOW ANGEL

Print / Trinket Universe (Micah and Everly)

~700 words

G/t dialogue prompt list

Aww I'm so touched by your love 🥰 Here's a bit of Micah/Everly wintery cuteness! ❄

@marydublinauthor 🌸

Where the hell is she?

Everly typically woke up before him, but she never strayed far from their shared room on the bus. This morning, he couldn’t find her working on schematics on her tablet, or tinkering with the various tech she’d scavenged, or overriding the vehicle’s AI to cuss him out.

“Ev?” Micah called.

As he stepped out of the room and into the narrow hallway, a chill snaked around him. The exterior door panel was wide open, and Everly was still nowhere in sight. He ducked back into his room and snatched the first pair of shoes within reach. He wasn’t sure what could have possessed her to leave the bus on her own so early in the morning—if she left by choice.

Premature anger bristled at the back of his mind. Crew members had bullied her into working off the clock before, but no one ever dared to drag her out of bed.

As he stepped off the bus, though, he didn’t have to look hard to find her.

Everly stood a few yards away with her back to him. Snow fell lightly onto the asphalt and stuck to the ground. She wore only a t-shirt and jeans, shivering like crazy but rooted to her spot.

“There you are,” he said, all the breath leaving his lungs at once. “What are you doing? You’re gonna freeze out here!”

Everly turned and looked up at him. Her eyes were wide—and for a second, he thought he was scaring her. But a breathless grin lit up her face. Every smile he’d ever gotten from her was hard-fought. Her sheer, unprompted happiness made him wonder if she was tripping on something.

“Uh…” He cleared his throat. “Don’t get mad, but you’re freaking me out.”

“It’s beautiful. Look at it.” Everly’s wistful sigh puffed past her lips like a cloud. She stuck her hand out and caught a few snowflakes, bringing her palm close to her face to examine them. 

Then it hit him.

She’d lived all her life in southern California. 

“You’ve never seen snow?” Micah dropped to one knee beside her, cocking his head to continue soaking in the unbridled joy on her face.

She shook her head. “Not the real stuff, anyway. A couple years ago, they dropped synthetic snow on the slums around Christmastime to boost morale or something. It was depressing as fuck. But this…” She cupped her hands, grinning as snowflakes gathered in her palms. “It’s not as cold as I thought it’d be.”

Micah laughed, reaching down with both hands to scoop her up. “That’s just the childlike-wonder talking.” His smile wilted when his skin brushed against her. “You’re so cold, Ev.” He swiftly brought her against his chest, eliciting a squeak of surprise.

“Relax, I’m fine!” She squirmed for a moment, but sure enough, she leaned into his warmth. “Okay, maybe…” She rested her forehead against his shirt. “Maybe it’s a little cold.”

He chuckled. “Let’s get you into some warmer clothes.”

“I… I don’t have any.”

Micah made a wounded noise. “I thought you said you looked through all the clothes I got you. Liar.”

“I-I mean… Looking through all of it would’ve taken me days.” She tugged at his shirt, and he peeked down at her. While she was definitely cuddling up against him for warmth, there was a certain sweetness to the way she rubbed her cheek against his chest. “But that means you can surprise me with an outfit. Won’t that be fun?”

Hugging her closer, he could already feel the chill vacate her little body as he stepped back inside. “Babe, we’re going through all your winter clothes. By the time we’re done, there’ll be enough snow on the ground to have some real fun. Wanna bet I can nail Xan with a snowball?”

“Only if I can also bet that he’ll murder you in your sleep.”