#TEMPLE RUN 2 REVIEW

[lucis-dove]

𝖣𝗂𝗀𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝖾𝗋𝖺 {1}

summary; 𝖱𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌. 𝖧𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝗀𝗎𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾. 𝖨𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗅. 𝖡𝗎𝗍, 𝗎𝗇𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖾𝗑𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝖮𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗐𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖽-𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾, 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗁𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗈 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾…

pairing: Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x reader

rating: 𝖬𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾

chapter no: 1/2

wc; 8.1𝗄

tags/warnings; 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝖻𝖼 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆, 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖿𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗀𝖾-𝗀𝖺𝗉, 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗁𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗈𝗍, 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝖻𝖼 𝗐𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗋, 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍

Author; @lucis-dove

a/n: 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 @oldermenfucker 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺 𝗈𝖿 𝖩𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖲𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗋𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖱𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝖺 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝗂𝗅𝖾, 𝖨 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖽𝗎𝖼𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝖾, 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗎𝗍 𝗎𝗉

"I'm out. The mess is all yours." 

That's the single thing Jack receives as a goodbye when Robby walks past him by the nurse station. His backpack is already slung over his shoulders, AirPods just being pushed into his ears to close out the world.

Jack follows him until he walks through the door into the waiting room. He hadn't run into Robby as he arrived nor by the lockers as he put away his stuff. So, the hasty goodbye is unexpected.

His gaze shifts back when another figure joins him. 

Samira stands before him, still in her scrubs, even though the day shift officially ended half an hour ago. Her hair is frizzier at the temples, as it usually is after twelve hours.

"Did something happen?" Jack notches his chin the way Robby had headed not long ago.

She shakes her head only to end up in a shrug. "Apart from Gloria being on his ass almost every time I ran into him today, I would say no."

Jack's brows furrow, glancing at the doors leading to the waiting room.

"Has he been like that the whole shift?" His eyes track back to Samira. 

She tilts her head sideways, brows raising only to fall just as quickly. "Snappy? Yeah, with everyone. That's why I've waited to get my stuff."

An exhale rushes from Jack's lungs, the sigh harsh as his eyes drop to the iPad. "He isn't going to be any better tomorrow."

"No?"

"No," he confirms as he looks up at her. Whatever hopeful light in her eyes flickers out as she realises a night's sleep won't considerably change the older attending's mood. 

"Has anything happened?" She nods in the direction they both last saw him. 

Although Robby was her attending, Samira didn't know him personally. Yes, she had been told things about him since getting to know Jack better, but she still didn't consider herself a friend of his friend. He was still her boss, as far as she and Robby would put it.

"Nothing, and that's the problem," Jack's attention once more falls to reviewing the details from the day-shift. "He bounces back and forth between the Pitt and his apartment."

Samira understands what's not said outright but implied. She'd experienced a similar lack of any social life up until a handful of months ago. 

Friends, first and foremost, had been scarce. The ones she received during medical school were the only ones that came to mind at the time. Relationships? Dating? Yeah, that had been non-existent. She remembers the desperation, even if it flickered out quickly, that pushed her to once download the dating app one of her few friends suggested.

"I have an idea, and tell me if it's awful or not." Jack's eyes shift upwards, seeing her with her phone now in hand. After some fiddling, she shows him the screen.

His eyebrows pull together, gaze dropping only to sharply flicker to meet her's again. "He would never download that himself."

"You never answered if it's a bad idea." Her smile is tentative as she waits.

"He would think it's awful."

"It's awful when you do it yourself, talking from experience." 

Jack cocks his head, chin tipping upwards. "You've used it?"

"I deleted it after a month." She's smiling as she explains, not at the look he sends her but that her idea still hasn't been outright rejected. She pulls the attention from her back to the topic at hand with a slight shake of the phone. "So?"

Jack rolled his head, staring at the screen.

Robby would hate the idea with venom. Partly because this was the negative side of digitalisation and partly because he would never admit that he wanted, needed, anyone. A partner was the last he would mention, even if someone threatened him under gunpoint.

His eyes shift to meet Samira's brown ones, "I'm letting you be in charge of this."

"I'm happy to be if he lays off on his hounding." Her smile has widened, bringing out the dimples on her cheeks. She pockets her phone. "Send me whatever pictures you have of him or the two of you."

Jack nods, "Update me when you're done."

"Oh, you'll get the giddy messages once I start swiping."

He sends her an amused look. "Don't have too much fun." 

"Don't worry." Her look softens as she continues. "See you at shift-change?"

"'Course," the edge of Jack's mouth tugs upwards but is pulled into a line as the commotion from the ambulance bay catches his attention. He's quick to move but still manages a soft touch against Samira's arm as he passes her.

Even if Jack wasn't glued to his phone like Samira that night, she sent him the updates he'd requested.

─He's popular

─I don't know how I feel flirting with women who find my boss sexy

─Don't mind me, desperate women are entertaining

─Oh wait, I think she could be something

It was after Samira sent the pictures from your profile she received the first reply to any of her messages. The notification from Jack brought her out of the conversation with you, the only one she'd found herself jumping back to answer the messages from between swiping.

She's younger than him─

─But much better at actually holding a conversation compared to many who is his age

─And I guessed he maybe had the same taste for a younger partner, like you

Very funny─

─I know, right, I am

─Should I ask her out?

Are you ready to work with him tomorrow if you do?─

─I'll let you mention it, spare me the worst of his blowup

How generous─

Much like Jack had predicted, Robby's mood hadn't changed overnight. 

He still arrived with a polite smile sent to those he passed in the morning, but his sighs ─followed by a hand rubbing the side of his face─ began even before lunchtime. If anything, it felt like each time Samira was close to him, his attitude worsened even further, her good mood doing the opposite of cheering him up.

And it was all because you'd agreed to a date with Robby. 

Samira had asked you yesterday. Waiting with bated breath for your answer, as if she was the one who would meet up with you. Then, when the reply finally came, a short and sweet I would love to, she jumped from her couch with an excited gasp.

Jack already knew. She'd told him yesterday with a quick text. However, he didn't receive the full update until they met by the lockers this morning and were able to read the entire conversation. Throughout, his mouth had twitched until he looked up, unable to fend off his smile any longer as he handed back the phone.

Then and there, they decided to stick with the plan and inform Robby when the day shift traded with the night shift. Not only to spare Samira from Robby's ire but for Jack to also be well-rested when he broke the news. And the confrontation was getting closer.

The night shift had rolled in, the patient rounds with quick briefings were done, and while Jack didn't do the same huddle Robby did in the mornings, he stood in the same place, waiting.

He busied himself with the iPad, at least wanting it to appear that way. But those who paid close enough attention would notice his eyes flicked up at each day-shifter who emerged from the hall leading to the lockers. While it dropped back down in between, the iPad in his hand was forgotten the second the person he was waiting for appeared.

"We'll hold it down while you're off," Jack says as Robby walks up to him. 

"Good," he claps him on the shoulder. "Text if something comes up." 

Just as he turns, Jack speaks up, halting him in the middle of a step. "And don't forget your date." 

Robby freezes, turning to slowly look over his shoulder with furrowed brows.

"What did you say?" Jack meets his gaze as he presses the off button on the iPad, the screen going dark. 

"You're going on a date." 

Robby turns fully and jerks his head sideways, mouth open as he sharply dips his chin, demanding an answer through a sharply asked, "I am what?"

"You've been stressed-"

"When are we not?" He flings out his hand.

"Worse than fucking usual," Jack speaks through his teeth as he leans forwards. "So suck it up and go; we figured you needed something to take your mind off the Pitt."

"We?" Robby's eyes shift to Samira when she suddenly joins them, noticing how her lips are closer to a thin line than the smile she attempts. "Of fucking course," he laughs in disbelief, shaking his head as he looks away, hand dragging over his beard.

"I should keep you separated," he points at them individually when his eyes return to them.

Jack cocks his head. "You already do. Didn't help."

"You- it just feels like you've had a few bad days," Samira interjects, much gentler, but receives the same look of bottled-up frustration, indicated through brows pinned high and mouth open as if Robby was holding himself back.

"And this would solve it?" He asks it slowly, nodding just slightly as he does, not in agreement.

"Maybe not solve it, but take your mind off of it?" She offers hesitantly. His jaw grinds, but he doesn't manage to reply before Jack cuts in.

"It's your only hope at this point. Your workplace-approach didn't work, like for some others," Robby sends him a look, but is simply met with his unrelenting gaze. 

Samira cuts between them, attempting to diffuse the tension, "She's nice."

Dark brown eyes meet hers. Heavier and stormier than usual. "And how did you find her? Hopefully, she's not a patient?" 

Samira pulls up her phone and shows the account she'd set up for Robby on the dating app.

He takes the phone from her as she offers it, simultaneously reaching for his glasses. 

Inspecting the profile, he's met with candid photos of him. In most of them, he's with Jack, but there's the occasional one where he's alone in the picture. The one he's staring at now is one where he's smiling, his eyes cast down to his beer, still dressed in his scrubs in a lowly lit place.

Only when he squints does he notice the shoulder at the edge of the picture, leading him to the conclusion that it's one Samira has of him and Jack from one of the Pitt's bar nights, but where she's cropped it to exclude the latter.

A short text is visible beneath the pictures he flickers through, and once he reads it ─Doctor who likes beer. Obviously, the taller, more handsome one who can grow a beard out of the two─ he groans.

"Christ, this is so much worse." He mutters as he hands the phone back to Samira.

"But it worked," Jack reminds him.

Robby rubs a hand over his face, scratching his neck before letting it fall, sighing heavily. "And who am I meeting?"

"That's for you to find out tomorrow," Samira answers.

His brows shoot up. "Tomorrow?"

"Yes, you're off during the weekend", Jack shrugs as if it explains everything. And while Robby has a suspicion about why Saturday was chosen, he doesn't get the time to comment on it. "You're going to meet at the Italian restaurant a few blocks from yours, the new one."

"And wear something else than your scrubs; you told her the dress code is summer casual, after all." Samira pipes in with an excited smile.

"Oh, I did?"

"Yes, and she liked that you booked the restaurant and told her to meet there as well," Jack's lips are pulling hard in the corners. "She already seems to like you more than the others you've met in recent times."

Robby sends him a look, deadpan, brows set low. "I haven't seen anyone." And Jack knows that.

"Even the more reason to meet up with her." His friend shoots back.

Samira watches Jack and sighs, turning her attention to him. "She seems sweet, said she liked your smile when she swiped on you,"

"So try not to be too grumpy," Jack adds, smug voice and entertained smile not hidden.

Robby decides not to answer, only throwing up a few fingers in an attempted wave as he turns to leave. But he lets it fall halfway through, releasing another heavy exhale as he exits the Pitt.

This thing, scheme, set up, blind date, had been on Robby's mind since he went to sleep yesterday. Only to be reminded the second he woke up through Jack's text message.

Don't chicken out.

He wouldn't, Robby told himself. At least he wouldn't stand you up. You didn't deserve that just because his friends, colleagues in this instance, wanted the same for him as they shared. No, he would show up and tell you the truth to spare your and his time. You deserved that, even if he didn't know you.

That didn't explain why he never felt like he could settle throughout the day. 

He tried to watch whatever rerun shows were on TV but fiddled with the remote. Either flickering through channels or spinning it in his hand while attempting to find something worthwhile.

He caught himself checking each reflective surface he passed in the house, each time running a hand through his hair, only to drag it down his face when he realised what he was doing. After a handful of times, he decided to just take a shower to tame his unruly hair. 

And while he practised what to say when he met you, sorry for my idiot friends or something along those lines, he actually considered what shirt he should wear and which pants it could match as he rummaged through his wardrobe as it neared the time of departure.

He settled for something relaxed: jeans and a light blue jumper with a minimal pattern or weave, perhaps. He didn't really know what to call it. It wasn't too casual, but neither dressed up, fitting for the dress code he had given you.

But what he decided to wear didn't mean anything. He wouldn't stay long enough to start worrying about his appearance compared to yours.

Robby continued telling himself there was no deeper reason for his behaviour as he locked up behind him and headed towards the restaurant.

It was warm outside; no jacket was needed. Even so, he burrowed his hands in his jeans, fingers fighting for room along with his keys and phone as he tracked to the address he, rather Jack and Samira, had given you.

Not until he reached for the door to the Italian place did he actually realise, admit, he was nervous. Not for the… date but to break the news and, without a doubt, ruin your evening.

Robby exhaled harshly as he pulled the door open, cursing the couple that definitely would send him hopeful looks at shift change on Monday.

Only when the equally warm inside of the restaurant met him did Robby remember he had no idea who he was looking for. He hadn't been shown a picture, only received a name after Jack's message about not chickening out.

Unsure of what, who, to expect, he glanced around the room. 

He guessed you were here already since it was only a few minutes until the set time of the booked table. The one under his name.

The main seating area was further in and to the left, while a bar with seatings ran along the counter to his right. It was as his eyes strayed over those seats, his eyes connected with someone's.

He didn't know if it was an accident, not at first. But his attention remained, unconsciously flickering down and up, only to be met by a smile being sent to him. When a small wave followed the reestablished eye contact, it sealed the deal.

Shit, you're pretty. Really fucking pretty.

That was Robby's first realisation as he watched you slide from your stool and head over. You weren't overdressed, following a similar theme as him. But god, if you didn't look even more put-together. 

Dark blue jeans hugged your hips and waist before they fell straight. Hiding what he realised were white heels from the point peeking out from the lower hem and the rhythmic clicking he heard. Your jumper, closer to a cardigan with buttons lining the front, was tailored to fit snugly at the waist. The white fabric looked soft, dressing up the otherwise rougher fabric covering your legs. 

Nothing of your outfit gave away too much of your figure, but just enough his eyes followed it anyways. 

As your pace slowed when nearing, he saw a chain peek through where the two uppermost buttons of your top were popped open. It rested against your collarbones, dainty but glittering as it caught the light.

His eyes jumped to yours when he realised you'd stopped in front of him.

"Hi, Michael, right?" Your voice was soft, the slight smile still there as you looked at him.

He opened his mouth, preparing to tell you that this was all just a big mistake, a rouse to unkindly thank his friends for. But the words died on his tongue as your head tilted, and he noticed that your fingers never stayed still, wringing together, playing with the rings that matched your necklace.

"I haven't taken the wrong person, have I?" You question a bit awkwardly.

"Uhm, yeah- I mean, no, no, you haven't." The words rush from his mouth this time around. You breathe out an amused, verging relieved sound through your nose. "But Robby is just fine," he stretches forth his hand, which breaks up the nervous practice of spinning the ring on your index finger.

"Robby?" You question after you've shaken his hand, letting yours fall along your body again.

"My last name-"

"Hello, do you have a booking?" The voice cuts off his reply, Robby's attention falling to the man who steps up to you two.

"Ugh…" Robby notices how you look towards him, sees it in the edge of his peripheral. He swallows. Fuck, he could just say it later, not make a scene here. "Yeah, yeah, Michael Robinavitch."

"7 P.M.?" He nods even if the waiter doesn't look up from the iPad. "Perfect, follow me," he says, looking up to offer a polite smile to both of you before turning on his heel.

Robby looks towards you, brows rising when he finds you already, still, watching him. He plays it off by nodding forwards, hands leaving his pockets to motion with one of them into the restaurant, telling you to lead the way. 

Your smile reaches your eyes as it widens, turning around to follow the waiter. Robby follows two steps behind. 

"I get the nickname now." You speak to him over your shoulder, glancing backwards. Your voice wasn't hushed but slightly lower to signal you were speaking to only him.

"What?" 

"Your last name. I think I would have a hard time spelling it if you didn't sound it out." He actually finds himself releasing an amused scoff, head dipping before his gaze returns to you.

"Got tired of people calling me everything but it."

Your laugh is preceded by a smile that flashes teeth. And Robby finds himself just looking at you, eyes flickering over your features scrunched into amusement. Even as it falls slightly, just enough to offer a polite thank you to the waiter once he stops by your table ─another one as you sit down and accept the menu─ his eyes never leave you, unable to look anywhere else.

It's not until your gaze flickers to Robby that he realises he's still standing and finds himself pulling out his chair the moment he does. 

He offers an appreciative nod to the man who hands him the same two-sided menu as you received, as well as a wine list, once he's seated.

As the waiter leaves, you nod in momentary goodbye. Nothing familiar, just polite. Robby finds it charming, in some weird or deeply hidden definition of the word in a glossary. Perhaps it's due to his own work in the service sector.

When your eyes trail back, returning from the quick sweep of the restaurant ─which you took the opportunity to do after already looking up at the waiter─ they move over the drinks list in his hands on the way to the menu in yours.

Although Robby planned to explain the absurdity of the situation and let you down gently once the two of you were left alone. Perhaps offer to buy you a glass of wine to nurse while he goes home, intending to deliver a few chosen words to Jack. That's not what happens.

"Want to take a look?" Robby is quick to offer the drink list to you. 

When your eyes flicker up to him, it halts his thought that, in seconds, managed to jump from 'that was not what you were supposed to say'  to 'out of all the things you could say, you chose that.'

"Thank you, but I'm okay. Don't fancy getting tipsy," you explain, one hand gesturing aimlessly as the other keeps holding your menu.

He clears his throat as he sets the booklet down. "Lightweight?"

"Winedrunk is a real thing," you huff, but it's light and airy. Adding in your smile, Robby knows it's all said in jest.

"So, what did you have at the bar?" He remembers the empty glass you'd left behind when coming to greet him.

"A mocktail, just to occupy myself with something", you shrug. "And I'll continue down my boring path."

Robby motions to where he'd put the drink list between you. "Heard they have pretty good non-alcoholic options."

"Actually, I'm leaning towards just a soda." He nods, rapping his finger against the table, focus entirely lost on the menu he holds open in his other hand.

"What's your go-to?" 

He really didn't know what urged him to ask, but the question had already left him when Robby realised he was the one who continued the conversation.

"I'm not fussy," you settle one elbow on the table, propping your chin on it. "So surprise me." 

His brows arch, not anticipating your answer. But you don't shy away from his surprised look. Simply continue watching him with a quirk on your lips, making no move to say anything, nothing to justify or explain yourself. You hold his gaze for long enough Robby understands you are attempting to drive your point home.

He feels the edge of his lip tick upwards. Something about your subtle playfulness elicits the reaction. 

Upon his non-verbal cue, your lips pull to one side, looking like you are biting the inside of your cheek to stop your smile from growing. Although your attention returns to the menu once more, your face remains angled toward him as it's your eyes that move. 

Robby finds his eyes flickering between his menu and you repeatedly. Somewhere along the way, he gets stuck studying you. How your eyes flicker across the paper, or the way your teeth play with your lower lip as it seems you consider which dish is the most appealing.

He doesn't realise how long he's watched you, not until the waiter arrives at the side of the table once again.

Eyes directed to the same man as previously, he notices you do the same from the corner of his eye. Upon the question of whether you're ready to order, Robby answers for you both.

He feels your gaze move to him as he orders your and his drinks, asking for a bit more time concerning the food. He realised ─whilst ordering his usual bear and choosing a soda for you─ that he barely knew what was on the menu after his attention got sidetracked by you.

After the waiter leaves, Robby's eyes automatically move to you. 

When his gaze connects with yours, witnessing the smile you send his way, he certainly doesn't feel the same displeasure rise in his body as when he mentally prepared for this evening. In fact, he reciprocates it. Genuine, no faking it, like he very much thought he would've needed if he forced himself to sit through this blind date.

After that, Robby has his second realisation; he's slowly warming to the idea of being here with you. 

Yeah, one dinner can't hurt. 

While you'd been the one to swipe on Michael, Robby, you'd been pleasantly surprised when he'd walked into the restaurant. 

He looked the same as his pictures, which certainly wasn't always the case. You dared to say he looked even better when you got closer to him. 

Maybe it was due to how he carried himself. You knew how tall he was from the app, but he felt taller in person. Even with your heels, you needed to angle your chin to properly look into his eyes. 

Or perhaps it was those brown eyes. Yeah, they were just as pretty in person as they'd been through the screen. If anything, you had a hard time looking anywhere but them as you fell into a conversation after receiving your drinks and ordering your food. 

They looked perpetually dark, bottomless ─but not emotionless─ in the restaurant's dimmed light. It was easy to get lost in them, far too easy.

"So, how did you hear of this place?" You ask him. He's gotten more comfortable in his seat, leaning against the back. 

"Heard it from my… son?" 

Even if he grows unsure towards the end of the sentence, making it sound like a question, your brows arch. You hadn't seen that on his profile, nor was it anything he'd mentioned during your short back and forth. 

And Robby notices your reaction, it seems, as he is quick to clarify, "Not my son. Jake, he's the kid of my ex." 

Robby winces after it's said. He may not have dated in years, but he knows the etiquette about bringing up exes on first dates.

"Yeah, sorry, you probably didn't need that detail." He sheepishly drags one hand over the side of his face, ruffling that side of his hair, only to slide down along his bearded jaw and down his chin.

"It added to the explanation, so I'm not offended." You say it with a wink at the end, letting him know no real harm has been done. "So, you two are close, you and Jake, I mean?"

"We're building back up to that point after some rough patches." You nod, deciding not to push upon catching the tension behind his words.

"And you and your ex, I suppose you're on good terms if you still hang out with him occasionally?" His head cocks as you ask, and you simply raise your hands. "Hey, you mentioned it, I'm just gauging."

And Robby believes you. He doesn't know why, but you make it feel easy to talk about these things. It's the first time he does it with someone who knows nothing of his background in... how many years, he doesn't know. 

"I guess. We don't really talk, only if it concerns Jake, but it's not like I'm always present at every big step he takes." You nod with a bit of hum

"If you don't mind, why did it end? From the outside, it looks like you've stepped into some kind of father role for Jake. It feels like you don't abandon the relationship it stemmed from readily."

"Me and the kid got on better than me and his mom." You chuckle at the joke. He smiles but continues with a half-hearted shrug. "Work, I guess, always the joykiller."

"Doctor, was it?" He nods twice, guessing you'd worked it out from the pictures he wore scrubs in or during the texting Samira had done with you. "I guess that does take up a lot of time."

He chuckles, hearing how it brushes on sardonic in his own ears. "You could say that."

"So, long-term then? Do you feel like that's correct if your work takes up so much time?" 

That question makes him stall, hesitate. Not because he didn't know where it came from. He'd seen what type of relationship preference was visible on his profile. It was the only option he would've considered as well if he, over his dead body, would've created it himself. But he didn't think you would ask about it, no less without averting your eyes as you waited for his answer.

"I… good question, honestly," he couldn't help but exhale, rubbing his neck. 

Robby had, of course, thought about it and knew it was the reason most of his previous relationships gave away in the end. He wasn't the sole fault for it. Janey and Collins both had careers they'd also wanted to focus on advancing or just maintaining amidst everything else. 

"It's not that it takes up too much time, just that it never technically leaves you, me, even if I'm not at work." He looks at you, eyes locking with yours from unconsciously having fallen to the table. "It's not something everyone wants to sign up for and…"

"Not something you want to put them through?" You lean on the table, resting your temple on your fist, eyes on him.

Robby doesn't know if smart would be the word to describe you for working it out. Perceptive, maybe, as you'd suggested the reason he'd left out with enough confidence to showcase that you knew that's what we wanted to say. 

And you weren't wrong.

"It's just easier to sometimes not bother when you know the outcome." He confirms. Not defeated, just the simple truth.

"Being alone can be awfully comfortable." 

It's his turn to tilt his head in intrigue. "Speaking from experience?" 

"Yeah, you can say that." You smile, but it's not as light as your previous ones. "I've met enough people who want fleeting things and never even want to try and settle." 

Without having seen your dating profile, Robby gathered what your questions tried to determine, as well as what your preferences were. "In for a penny, in for a pound?"

You break into a smile as you sit up again, leaning back with your arm loosely folded across your chest. "If you want to choose the lightest saying."

"So, any exes I should know about?" 

Concerning how you two already have broken the standard protocol for a first date, he isn't shy to steer the conversation to focus on you this time around rather than a topic of favourite colours or foods.

"None recent and none who's left much baggage." You share with him. But it seems like you're reminded of something, your lips pulling at the edges as you grimace. "People I've dated on a short-term basis are a different story. But I feel like you're not the kind of man who's got the patience to listen to how miserable guys are with dating in this day and age."

"You're probably right." He scoffs, able to imagine it more than well. "Men can be impossible."

You chuckle at that, and Robby finds himself smiling.

The silence you settle into as your sound of amusement fades is short-lived, your food arriving to break it and the eye contact you shared.

Although the conversation evens out while you eat, occasional comments are shared. 

Some touch on superficial topics. Robby likes sports, you don't mind them. You both enjoy reading, but he prefers journals, while you gravitate towards fiction of most kinds. 

Others don't, but neither of you shy from them.

You don't use the exact words, but when thoughts are shared on partners and relationships, your answers are nonetheless similar. Not uncomplicated, unchallenging. But right, worth attempting.

Robby finds himself wanting to know more, curious about you. With how your conversation never waters down into prolonged and strained silences ─of course, the occasional lull, but it's filled with shared glances─ you seem equally as invested. Asking about him, gazing at him while he speaks, sometimes with a small smile. 

Without realising, those hours he never intended to spend with you in the first place pass. 

Your bubble breaks when the waiter appears and plucks the dishes from the table, voicing an open question regarding dessert.

Robby glances at you, and you notice his attention. With a little jerk of his head, he silently tells you to decide. Your eyes move back to the waiter, only answering when the clatter of cutlery and plates has silenced and he balances the dishes in his arms.

"We're good, thank you." You smile up at the man, who offers a nod before he walks off. Your attention lands on him again, "I'm just going to the ladies. I'll be back soon," you excuse as you stand up.

"You'll find me here." Your eyes remain on him even as you begin walking away, and Robby catches the flicker in them, relieved, happy. It's mirrored in your smile, hidden only when you face forward. 

Without realising, he feels how he reciprocates your smile even if you can't see it. 

As you wash your hands, looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror, you have to forcefully purse your lips to beat down your smile. 

This evening was going above and beyond whatever you'd imagined. It was hard not to consider what was possible down the road if it continued like this. But Robby... he just made it too easy to accidentally trip and fall right down that rabbit hole. That's precisely why you needed to run your hands through the coldest water possible from the tap. 

As you placed them on the back of your neck to ground yourself, you exhaled slowly, putting a lid on the ecstatic quiver in your chest. Your eyes fluttered close for a brief moment; annoyingly, your mind simply conjured a picture of Robby behind your eyelids.

You shake your head, opening your eyes, only to see a smile has worked itself onto your lips again.  

"Jesus," you huff, the excitement in your own voice not lost on you as you dry your hands. 

This was only a first date. You really needed to approach it as if it meant nothing. Disappointment was too close otherwise.

Yet, it's proved impossibly hard to keep yourself to that, your smile already returning once your eyes find Robby as you get closer to the table.

When you're a few feet away, he turns to you, probably catching you nearing through his periphery.

"Are you ready to go?" He asks, standing up before you have time to sit down again.

Your brows pull together. "But the check?"

"I took care of it." Robby waves towards the way you just came, insinuating he paid while you were gone.

"Thank you, that's really kind." Your head dips as he takes the lead to the exit. "I appreciate it." 

He doesn't respond, not verbally, but he throws a look over his shoulder, lips tugging upwards. 

It took every part of your non-lizard brain to continue walking and not just dumbly stop in the middle of your step. Robby had looked so incredibly good in that short instance that it took you off guard in that off-hand realisation way. 

You'd stared at him countless times tonight, never denying you sat across from a handsome man. But that, and how he now holds the door open ─close to the hinges as he'd already stepped on the pavement outside and looked back at you─ would ingrain itself in your memory forever.

"Which way are you going?" He asks once you join him on the sidewalk. 

You nod towards the left.

It grants you a smile that makes Robby's eyes gentle and incorporates his whole face. His smile lines appeared. The wrinkles deepened on his forehead. The creases grew beside his eyes. 

"We're heading the same way," he says, and just like that, you set off in the same direction. 

A conversation flows easily. You laugh slightly louder at his sarcastic comments, able to when you weren't indoors. His chuckles also ring deeper as he watches the way you look up at him after softly swatting his arm. The kind of minor physical contact that wasn't possible when sitting opposite each other. 

Yet the air of finality was hard to ignore. The daunting feeling the night was closing in on its end grew. 

As Robby slows his pace, which you catch onto a few seconds later, as if you didn't anticipate it, he knows for sure it is. 

"This is me," he nods down the right turn of the intersection as he says it.

You offer him a smile, motioning forward. "My bus stop is a few blocks away." 

"You took the bus?" You hum with a nod.

The wind has picked up during your walk together. It's not cold by any means, but being this close to the water increased the power of the gusts. Robby notices your shiver, probably just due to the sudden shift in temperature by a few degrees more than actually freezing. Even so, he finds himself stepping in front of you.

You follow Robby as he moves, cutting off the gust of winds that previously blew into your face. Your eyes widen slightly as you realise what he did, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them. 

"Thank you," you quickly follow them up with something to cover your shocked appreciation. "I enjoyed tonight."

"Yeah, me too."

"I really didn't have any expectations." You admit with a chuckle. "I honestly headed into this with the mindset to get it over with and be disappointed if, and no offence, I thought you would, proved to be a completely different person than over text."

Robby chuckles and shakes his head. Apparently, you'd had the same attitude toward this as he had.

"Maybe I'm shooting myself in the foot by telling this, but-" This time he looks sideways, hand finding the back of his head, scratching it as he continues. "-some friends set me up for this date. Without me knowing."

"No, you're joking?" His gaze shifts back to you. Your lips are slightly parted, brows knitted together.

"Didn't know I had a dating profile until yesterday." He gives you an apologetic smile, arm dropping to find shelter in his back pocket.

Even though he didn't reveal how adamant he'd been to call quits on this, Robby still thought the information he shared would be enough for your surprised expression to turn sour. Maybe even take a step back, excuse yourself and be on your way now when you know. 

He didn't anticipate seeing amusement, maybe even curiosity, bleed into your surprise as a laugh bubbled slowly in your throat until it filled the air.

"Oh, god, I-I'm sorry," you excuse through your chuckling, biting your lip and dampening it into a smile before you decide to continue. "I really thought someone like you-," you abandon the rest of your sentence with a small shake of your head. 

That made his head cock, intrigue rising suddenly. "No, tell me." 

Your brows rise, tongue wetting your lips, chest stuttering a little on your inhale. To Robby, it was clear you hadn't thought he would ask you to continue, explain what you'd left out.

"I, well… figured you didn't need any apps with your looks. If we base it on how I malfunctioned when seeing your photos." Your chin drops, watching your toes as you shift the weight on your feet. 

You remember the noise you let out as his profile grazed your screen, very undignified. Enough so that you'd looked around your empty room to see if someone accidentally heard you.

"You're exaggerating."

"No." Your head snaps up, Robby looking as surprised as you feel upon the conviction behind the statement. You fumble to continue with an explanation. "I mean, you look good, really good; most women would think so."

"I'm on the wrong side of fifty."

Your head does a minuscule shake as your brows furrow as if you can't comprehend his words. "And?"

"I have greys in my beard." 

You hum, bewildered expression dropping just like your eyes do as they narrow lightly, focusing on his beard. God, that beard. You hesitate, only to take a step closer. 

Robby inhales at the proximity, only getting a lungful of your perfume rather than the fresh air needed for his brain to function. But he doesn't mind your closeness, not at all. 

When you slowly raise your hand, he watches as bewitched. 

You do it slowly enough so he knows you leave time for him to object, step back, say no. But he doesn't move an inch. Simply follows your hand that reaches for his chin, waiting to feel your touch.

The gentle sensation of your nails scratching his skin beneath the coarse hair as your fingers card through his beard sent one long shiver down his spine.

"Congrats, you're one step closer to becoming a silver fox." He actually chuckles at that, shaking his head. Your hand automatically falls again as he does, but you don't step away.

"And you don't mind?" He looks at you again, searching your eyes even if a smile greets him.

There's a gap between you. He'd noticed it as soon as he saw you in the restaurant. Compared to him, there were yearsuntil you even started greying. The lines on your forehead and around your eyes still tilted more towards smooth skin than not, unlike himself.

"Do you think I would've swiped, let alone met up with you if it did?"

"Maybe you just wanted a free meal," he shrugs. He doesn't really believe it himself, not after getting to know you. So the rise of your brows doesn't surprise him.

"I'll let you know, Robby." The slow, accentuated way you say his name while you notch your chin higher makes his heart speed up. "I may have decided to meet up after that short conversation with your friends. But I stayed throughout the dinner because of you." 

"So my dad-jokes worked?" He doesn't even realise he bends his neck slightly as he asks you. But he does notice the hitch in your breath as he does.

Robby's smile is slightly toothy as he looks down at you. A grin almost. It looks remarkably boyish for someone of his age, a juxtaposition to the rest of his aged features. But you found it simply spread fondness through your chest like so many other things he'd done tonight.

"Yeah, yeah, they did." 

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Hopeful for a second date?"

"Am I wrong to think I have a good chance?"

"No."

You hadn't noticed how you both inched closer, gravitating towards each other. Your chests almost touching. The point of your shoes nearly meeting his. But it does feel like you realise it at the same time. Both your eyes fall, only to meet again seconds later. 

He takes a tentative step closer, a shuffle more like, angling his head down as one hand slips from his jeans pocket. You have a feeling where it will land but are surprised when it settles on your waist. 

"I really had a good night," his voice has dropped, rough and low. 

"You've already said that." Robby's hands slide to your ribs, leaving behind goosebumps he can't see, but you can feel.

"Needed to say it again." It's more of a mumble beneath his breath as he watches you closely, following your reaction to his hand jumping to the curve of your shoulder, moving until his hand cups behind your neck, thumb along the hinge of your jaw. "Since I didn't think it would be."

"Robby-" his name is a whisper, breathed into the space that still separates you. Far less than before, but still not enough to touch. Not until he dips closer, tongue rolling to briefly be trapped between his lips before they part.

"This okay?" His nose nudges yours, the tip rather than the side, as he remains far enough away that his brown gaze can meet yours.

"Yeah." Even if his eyes fall to your lips as you reply, he remains a few inches away. 

You swallow, inhaling, eyes flickering from his eyes to his mouth. Robby's jaw clenches, then it slackens, his grip on your face shifting.

It's you who tilt your head and lean closer, but it's Robby who closes the gap and initiates the kiss.

Your eyes flutter shut as his warm, rough lips press against yours. 

You hadn't had enough time to dream- consider this. A second date, more down the road. But not this, not tonight. And yet, everything about kissing Robby feels right.

It feels natural when your hands fall against his stomach as he parts and tilts his head, only to seek you out again. The shivers working overtime through your nervous system ─prickling the skin across all parts of your body, enough for your hair to stand at the edge─ feel good and not uncomfortable. And when his other hand lands and curves over your hip, his warmth radiating through the fabric of your clothes as he pulls you into him, you welcome it.

When you part properly and with more space than a breath that fans hotly against each other's lips, you finally look at each other again. 

Robby is the first to speak as you inhale a lungful of air, attempting to steady your hammering heart after witnessing the look in his eyes.

"Do you want to stay at mine?"

Yeah, all that air? Gone.

The air you just pulled in whooshed out in an exhale that sounded like a rushed huh?. Apparently, his own comment caught him off-guard, his brows shooting up high enough to accentuate the lines on his forehead.

"I-just…," he swallows, cutting himself short. 

You feel how he wants to release your face and smoothen the hand down his face. In the end, he settles for a quick sideways-jerk of his head, accompanied by a smile that is void of humour in contrast to troubled.

"I'm just offering for you to stay at mine so you don't have to take the bus this late." You blink, watching him for a few seconds. Then you suddenly break into a smile, brows cocking.

"And you don't offer to pay for a cab to take me home but invite me to sleep over?" His mouth falls open, face elongating, a pink hue spreading across his cheeks as he averts his eyes.

"Christ, I know how it sounded, but I'm not expecting anything, just…if you want to- feel like-" he cuts himself off with an exasperated noise and a shake of his head. "I should just have offered you that cab ride." 

His brown eyes look from the ground to you, apologetic as bashfulness shines in them. 

You can't help but chuckle at the state he's in. The troubled furrow between his eyebrows. The slight pink still tinging his cheeks. 

What spurs you to respond is when you feel his hand slide from the side of your neck and your hip.

You halt his movement by moving your respective hands to the outer part of his arms, then elbows. With a slight push, you redirect his hands, that's just about to fall alongside his body, to land at your waist.

"I'm taking you up on that offer." Robby visibly relaxes, his hands on your waist settling fully rather than hovering. "Lead the way, if you're not having second thoughts on that cab?"

"Are you?" You shake your head. In return, he nods once, only to motion sideways with his head. "Let's go."

Although Robby's hands fall from your waist after the slight tug to direct you along with him, you walk closer than before, arms brushing, fingers touching every now and then. 

Your pulse is already thrumming, and even though you want to, you don't intertwine your fingers with his. Instead, you settle on slipping your hand around his bicep. Which is still quite daring if you go off how your heart jumps as you take the plunge. 

Whatever hesitation you had is quelled when Robby accommodates instantly, arm bending slightly. You bite your lip, gaze still set forward as your other hand also settles on him at the green light, draping across the crook of his arm, near where his forearm starts. 

You softly squeeze his bicep. He reciprocates with a lightly flexing and bringing it closer to his body, trapping your hand in a gentle press against his ribs. It's nothing and so much at the same time.

[winxanity-ii]

FIRST, TASTE [1/2]

ship: incubus!gojo x fem!virgin!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (oral sex/f. receiving; handjob/m. recieving; coercion/dub-con?) word count: 9.9k (long one babes, y'all know i gosta worldbuild/have a lil plot, lololol) a/n: Y'all, I can't believe I actually wrote this, i just wanted to try my hand at KINKtober😭; anywho, the idea of summoning an incubus just to get experience hit different and I HAD to do it. Anyways, enjoy this sinful lil one-shot. 'Know No Evil' update coming soon, probably on my birthday (Oct. 9) if I stay on schedule 👀…Prt. 2: 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃, 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid," you muttered, pacing frantically around your small dorm room. "How can you be this stupid?"

For the last half-hour, you'd been running back and forth like you were stuck in a sitcom montage, trying to prepare your space for your tutor session with Fushiguro Megumi.

And now, of course, he was almost here.

Usually, you weren't this disorganized.

The plan had been to clean and review notes way ahead of time, but somewhere between finishing the latest season of Sex Education on Netflix and getting lost in TikTok, the hours had slipped away.

Now, here you were shoving clothes under the bed and tossing old takeout containers into random drawers, hoping to make your room at least look like you had it together.

"Perfect, he'll show up and think I'm living in a trash heap," you grumbled, snatching up a pair of socks from under a pile of textbooks.

But there wasn't time to wallow; you needed to—

A knock echoed from the front door.

"Shit," you whispered, shoving random items under your bed as fast as you could. "I got it!" you called out, bolting towards the door, hoping to beat your roommate.

The last thing you needed was her making things awkward with whatever bizarre commentary she'd throw at the poor guy—

"Who's this?" Kugisaki Nobara's voice rang out from the hallway, her tone curious yet condescending.

You cursed under your breath, knowing what was coming. Great.

You made it down just in time to see Nobara standing by the door, hands on her hips as she sized up the person on the other side. The moment her eyes landed on Megumi, her lips twisted down in obvious distaste.

Megumi was standing on the other end of the door, wearing his usual bored expression, a dark hoodie thrown over his usual lazy attire of jeans and boots. His hair was messier than usual, sticking up in all directions like he hadn't even bothered with it.

"Ew... it's you," she said flatly, shooting him a withering look. "____, your teacher for dummies is here!" she called out, turning on her heel and walking away with an exaggerated flick of her hair.

You groaned under your breath, rubbing your temples in frustration. Why is she like this?

"Megumi! Hi," you said, trying not to sound too flustered as you opened the door wider for him. "Come on in."

"Hi," he muttered, stepping inside as if he were doing you a favor.

You flashed an awkward smile. "Sorry, about Nobara," you muttered, sending Megumi an apologetic look as you opened the door wider for him. "She's, uh... she's like that with everyone."

Megumi didn't seem fazed in the slightest. "I believe you," he replied dryly, stepping inside as if nothing had happened. He slipped off his shoes and tossed his backpack on the floor without so much as a second glance toward Nobara's retreating figure.

You sighed, closing the door behind him. "I swear, she's really not that bad once you get to know her."

He raised an eyebrow, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Sure."

You couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or if he just genuinely didn't care, but either way, you quickly changed the subject. "Let's get started," you said, leading him into your room, still feeling embarrassed by Nobara's less-than-friendly greeting.

Megumi didn't say much as he followed you, but he didn't have to. You'd known him long enough by now to recognize the tiny shifts in his expression. The raised eyebrow when he took in the state of the living room, the slight tilt of his head as he glanced at the bookshelves.

He was the type to quietly observe everything, and that somehow made you even more nervous.

You'd met Megumi in your first semester—by accident, really. He'd been the quiet guy who sat in the back of your chemistry class, always scribbling in his notebook but never talking to anyone.

When you got paired with him for a group project, you'd been terrified. The guy barely looked up when you introduced yourself, just grunted in response.

But over time, you found out he wasn't actually that bad. He had a sharp mind for chemistry and a dry, blunt sense of humor that caught you off guard.

And in exchange, you helped him navigate through the old math stuff that somehow came up again in your courses.

Now here you both were again—sophomore year, different majors, but stuck in the same required math class.

"Here we are," you said, gesturing to your bedroom door. You pushed it open and stepped aside to let him in first, already regretting the chaos you'd left in the room.

"Sorry about the mess," you muttered, nudging a stray bra under the bed with your foot as you walked in after him.

The faint scent of strawberries hung in the air, thanks to a candle you'd lit earlier in a desperate attempt to make the place feel less like a disaster zone.

Megumi barely glanced at the mess. "It's fine," he said, dropping his backpack onto your bed without a second thought.

You grabbed your notebook and the textbook, settling down at the small desk near the window. "Alright, let's get started."

"—and that's how you factor a quadratic expression," you finished, circling the final answer on the page with a satisfied hum.

Megumi leaned over, his eyes scanning the paper in that same quiet, intense way he always did. He was so focused it was almost intimidating.

You'd never quite gotten used to how he could make silence feel so heavy.

He nodded slightly, jotting down some notes in his notebook, but his eyes flicked back to you. You couldn't tell if he was impressed or just silently judging you.

"You're good at this stuff," he muttered, leaning back slightly.

You laughed a little, shrugging. "Heh. I guess. It's easier to explain than to actually do it myself sometimes."

"You're a better teacher than some of our professors," he added, which you weren't sure if that was praise or another dig at the fact that your school's faculty left a lot to be desired.

You glanced at the clock on your bedside table, noticing there were still about fifteen minutes left in your session. "We've still got a little time left. If you want, we can go over anything you didn't quite get—"

"Can I ask you something?" Megumi cut you off, his tone casual, but there was something behind it that made you pause.

"Uh, sure," you said, expecting a question about math or maybe something random about chemistry.

Instead, he asked, "Are you a virgin?"

The room fell silent. You stared at him, completely thrown off, and nearly choked on your own breath. "I—what?"

He tilted his head, like you hadn't heard him. "Are you a virgin?" he repeated, slower this time, as if asking for clarification.

Your face immediately went hot, and you sputtered, "W-Why the hell would you ask something like that?"

He leaned back slightly, his lips curling into the faintest smirk. "Just curious."

You crossed your arms defensively, feeling your heart race. "That's none of your business."

Megumi's gaze stayed on you, unbothered by your reaction. "Okay."

"Okay?" you repeated, narrowing your eyes. "What the hell does that even mean?"

His smirk widened a bit, and his voice dropped a little lower. "You mentioned Suguru earlier, right?"

Your stomach flipped at the mention of Geto Suguru, the subject of your daydreams; also known as the senior you shared an etymology class with your second semester last year.

He was... a lot.

Tall, handsome, intimidating, and way too charismatic for his own good; he had this effortless air about him that made you wonder why someone like him would even notice someone like you.

He was the kind of guy who made you nervous just by being in the room. But he was always hanging around Megumi, too, which only made things more confusing.

"Yeah, so?" you replied, trying not to sound as flustered as you felt. "What about him?"

Megumi leaned back on his hands, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "He'd probably be interested in your answer."

Your face went red. "What? Why would Suguru care if I'm—wait, did he... ask about me?"

Megumi's smirk turned into a full grin now, and he shrugged. "Maybe."

Your mind was racing. Why the hell would Suguru, of all people, ask anything about you? You were barely on his radar as far as you knew.

He was always surrounded by people—other seniors, girls who were way more confident and put together than you.

You fidgeted with your hands, trying to keep your voice steady. "Why... why would he care? Did he actually say something?"

Megumi chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You'd have to ask him yourself."

You stared at him, completely at a loss for words, but before you could fire back, he was already packing up his stuff, slipping his notes into his backpack with a lazy sort of ease.

"Thanks for the session," he said, standing up and throwing his bag over his shoulder. "Let me know if you need help with chemistry."

And with that, he was gone, leaving you sitting on your bed, still trying to wrap your head around what the hell had just happened. What the hell did Geto want with you? And why did Megumi look so smug about it?

You flopped back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"What the hell..."

"Fuck my life..." you mumbled under your breath, dragging your feet as you made your way across campus, your body feeling heavier than usual.

It had been a long day—scratch that, a long week—and you were running on fumes after pulling an all-nighter.

You knew better, but The Sims 4 had you in a chokehold last night, and before you knew it, it was 4AM., and your empire of perfectly crafted Sims families was more put together than your real life, and now you were paying the price.

Your last class of the day had been a blur, and you almost skipped it entirely. But the guilt of missing two classes earlier in the week pushed you out of bed at the last possible minute.

Now, with your bag full of heavy textbooks and your brain fried from back-to-back lectures, all you wanted to do was collapse.

You squinted against the afternoon sun as you approached the large fountain in the middle of campus. The sound of rushing water was soothing, but it did little to ease the pounding headache forming behind your eyes.

You weren't even halfway there when you spotted your roommate, Nobara, lounging on the fountain's edge, tapping away at her phone.

Her bright orange hair was styled in its usual sharp bob, and even from a distance, you could see the unmistakable confidence in the way she carried herself.

Nobara was nothing if not bold—always dressed to the nines, even for something as casual as sitting by the fountain; her outfit—ripped skinny jeans, a cropped leather jacket, and combat boots—screamed effortless cool.

By the time you reached her, you were practically dragging your feet.

Nobara glanced up from her phone and raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk. "You look like shit," she said bluntly, without skipping a beat, holding out her coffee cup.

You didn't even hesitate, reaching for the cup with a grateful nod. "Thanks, I spent all morning on it..." you mumbled, taking a long sip of the lukewarm coffee. The caffeine was probably your only hope of making it through the rest of the evening.

Nobara's eyes flicked over your disheveled appearance—your baggy hoodie with matching swats, the dark circles under your eyes, and the way your hair was barely stuffed inside a silk bonnet. She chuckled, shaking her head. "Late night?"

You nodded, swallowing another sip of coffee. "Pulled an all-nighter... Sims 4."

"Gods," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "You really need to get a life outside of video games."

You shot her a half-hearted glare. "You try building a perfect six-story mansion with an indoor pool and jacuzzi, okay? It's not as easy as it looks."

She snorted. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Anyway, I'm heading out to a party later," she said, flipping her phone in her hand with a casual air. "Frat thing. You coming?"

You groaned at the thought of a loud, crowded frat party. "I don't know; I've got a ton of studying to do," you said, even though you knew that was only half-true. You mostly just wanted to crawl into bed and zone out for a few hours.

Nobara didn't let you off that easy. She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Suguru going to be there."

You paused, trying not to let your face show too much interest, but the mention of Suguru was enough to make your pulse quicken.

"I—" You waved her off, trying to keep your cool. "I really should study. Plus, it's not like he even knows I exist."

Nobara scoffed. "Please. He totally knows. You've tutored Megumi, right? I'm sure they talk."

You felt a blush creep up your neck. "That's not the same thing," you said, finishing the last sip of her coffee and handing the empty cup back.

"Suit yourself," Nobara said with a shrug brushing invisible dust off her shirt. "But you're missing out. I heard he's single again, you know."

Just as you were about to reply, something—or rather, someone—caught your eye. Like a prairie dog sensing danger, you shot up straight, heart skipping a beat as you spotted a familiar figure in the distance.

It was Suguru.

Your breath hitched as you took in the sight of him. His long dark hair was tied back into a neat man bun, showcasing his sharp jawline and the broad expanse of his shoulders under a fitted black shirt.

He had this effortless cool about him that made you want to stare—but then again, everyone did. He was the kind of guy who turned heads without trying, and right now, he looked annoyingly handsome as usual.

Panicking, you ducked behind a nearby group of walking students, trying to hide your figure as if Suguru could sense you from all the way across campus.

Nobara sucked her teeth, clearly unimpressed with your theatrics. "Seriously?" she muttered, shaking her head. "You are so childish."

Before you could stop her, Nobara stood up, waving her arm in the air like a flag to catch his attention.

"No!" you whispered harshly, nearly choking on the last bit of coffee as you grabbed her arm and tried to drag her back down. "Stop drawing attention!"

Too late.

A shadow fell over you, blocking the sun, and you looked up, heart hammering in your chest. Standing above you was none other than Suguru, his lips curled into a faint smile as he took in the scene.

"Hey, Nobara," he said smoothly, his voice deep and almost teasing. His dark eyes flickered to you, and your entire body went rigid. "____, right?"

Your heart skipped several beats, your breath catching in your throat as you scrambled to respond. "Y-Yes!" you squeaked out, your voice way too high for your liking. Your face felt like it was on fire, and you were sure your face was hot enough to cook an egg on.

Nobara snorted beside you, shaking her head as she muttered under her breath. "Simp," she said, barely loud enough for you to hear, though Suguru didn't seem to catch it.

You glared at her, silently willing her to shut up and stop making things more awkward, but of course, she wasn't about to let you off the hook that easily.

Instead of making small talk or letting the moment pass, Nobara turned to Suguru, crossing her arms with a mischievous grin. "Hey, Suguru. My friend here thinks you're hot and wants to fuck."

Your jaw dropped, and for a second, you were sure your soul left your body. "What?!"

Nobara flashed you a wicked grin before air-kissing you goodbye and casually tossing over her shoulder, "See you at the party later, Suguru!"

And just like that, she strutted off, leaving you sitting there wide-eyed and horrified.

A smooth chuckle broke through your panic, pulling you back to reality. You turned slowly, only to find Suguru standing there, hands tucked into his pockets, looking down at you with an amused tilt of his head.

"So... fuck, huh?" he teased, his voice warm and smooth like honey.

You stammered, trying to form any coherent response, but all that came out were mumbled syllables. Your brain was short-circuiting, your face burning hotter with every passing second.

Finally, you gave up and buried your face in your hands, turning your back to him in pure embarrassment.

Suguru let out another chuckle, taking a few steps closer until his tall frame was towering over you. "You're cute," he said softly, reaching down and gently patting your head. The simple action made your entire brain spiral into chaos, and before you knew it, you were already mentally planning your wedding, picking out baby names, and deciding where you'd honeymoon.

But then Suguru's voice cut through your delusions.

"I'm flattered, really," he said, his tone a little more serious now. "But I've got this rule about not dating freshmen."

You blinked, looking up at him in confusion, the fantasy bubble bursting in an instant. "W-What?"

Suguru shifted awkwardly, running a hand through his hair as he glanced to the side. "I mean, it's not that I'm some international playboy or anything," he said, hesitantly but sure of himself. "I'm just... not really looking to settle down. So I try to keeps things simple by steering clear of freshmen. Because... ya know, it's thier first timers for a lot of things."

You pouted, a bit confused by what he meant. But than, realization dawned and you felt your heart shatter. He thought you were a freshman... and that was why he wouldn't be interested in you.

Even then, your heart leaped for a split second before reality set in again. Though you weren't a freshman, you were still a virgin. So technically his rule applied to you as well.

A soft "Why?" slipped from your lips before you could stop yourself. You were so focused on the fact that you were losing your chance that you didn't even think to correct him.

Suguru sighed, his expression softening. "It's just... I don't want to be the guy who takes that kind of experience from someone, you know? I prefer if the people I'm with have already been through that, so there's no pressure." His voice was calm, almost gentle, as if he was trying to explain something important without hurting your feelings. "It's not fair to put that on someone who's still figuring things out."

Damn, even his explanation was surprisingly sweet.

You couldn't help but appreciate how thoughtful it was. But that didn't stop the disappointment from settling in your chest like a heavy weight. You didn't know what to say—what could you say?

Taking your silence as sadness, Suguru bent down slightly, his face closer to yours, and gave you another light pat on the head, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You know... you're cute enough that I might just break that rule." He winked, and with one last chuckle, he turned on his heel and walked off, leaving you sitting there, completely dazed.

You sat frozen, unable to do anything but replay his words in your head, even as the mortification continued to burn at your core. "What the fuck..."

A few hours later, you found yourself on your phone, mindlessly scrolling through his Instagram profile, looking at his pictures. "He's so handsome," you sighed. You stared at the 'follow' button, your finger hovering over it.

Hyping yourself up, you quickly pressed the follow button before throwing your phone down. "Okay, there, first step down," you muttered to yourself.

Your thoughts kept circling back to Suguru's words. He thought you were a freshman, but even if he knew you weren't, it wouldn't change anything.

You were still inexperienced.

You let out a groan, rubbing your temples as frustration began to mount. Gods, what would Nobara do? you thought to yourself before shaking your head with a scoff.

Nobara wouldn't even be in this mess... still.

Without much thought, you opened laptop, typing into the search bar: 'How can I gain sexual experience without having sex?' Hundreds of articles popped up at once. Your eyes skimmed through the list.

[Self-love] ~ Tips on how masturbating can get you ready for sex

No.

[PornHub] ~ Virgin girl indulges in sex for the first time

No.

[First-Timers] ~ Website for virgins who are looking for companions

No.

[Phone-Sex] ~ Let your wildest fantasies come to life

No. No. NO.

You dropped your head into your hands, groaning, "This is useless."

Just as you went to click off the tab, something caught your eye.

'Want to gain sexual experience without actually having sex? Click here to join a forum that shows exactly how it can be accomplished!'

You leaned forward, interested. "Hello..." you hummed out loud, about to click the link. You narrowed your eyes at the link, not fully sure if you should trust it or not. With pursed lips, you weighed the pros and cons of the situation.

On one hand, if you clicked on it, it could take you somewhere that might actually help with your current predicament.

But on the other hand, if you didn't, you'd be right back to square one, knowing nothing.

Though, if you did click it, there was a chance you'd end up with a virus—something that would be a real pain to get fixed. "Eh, the school's got multiple computer labs," you shrugged.

With your mind made up, you clicked on the link. You crossed your fingers and prayed to whatever gods above that the website wouldn't give you a virus.

As you scrolled through the page, you came across dozens of supernatural-esque things like shifting, astral projection, spells, etc.

One would think you'd scroll past these because they sounded ridiculous, but the truth was...

"Ugghhh, why does all this shit take weeks to accomplish!?"

...you were very impatient.

Now, you could be patient for a lot of things, but this!? You couldn't risk it. Not when the only factor in your way of being with Suguru was your lack of experience—the full kind.

Not shy kisses in the corner, the short relationships that never lasted once they realized you didn't put out so soon, the disastrous first time performing third base—a memory you would shackle to the depths of your soul if you could.

A bright flash of a blue fire gif caught your eye breaking you out of your growing frenzy.

'Welcome to Infernium,' the post read, with a subtitle that said, "Harness the Power of Lust, Control Your Desires." The page description underneath it was almost like an introduction. It began with: "When I first wanted to experience sex, I just summoned a succubus..."

You skimmed down the post, reading about how Infernium was a different plane of the Abyssum—a shadowy, otherworldly realm that resembled Hell. It was a place where demons thrived by feeding on the raw, intangible energy that fueled human desires and emotions. They didn't outright steal your soul or kill you, but every encounter took a piece of your essence—leaving you feeling just a bit emptier each time.

It was subtle, like losing fragments of yourself—small enough to be overlooked but accumulating with every visit, a price that was insidious and ever-present.

Buuuut...

Instead of reading all of that thoroughly, you scrolled down to the comments section.

As expected, there was a mixture of disbelief, trolls, and snarky remarks. But the further you went, the more positive reviews you found. Some were so detailed that they seemed like fanfics or book excerpts, but something in your gut told you this could be real.

You got lost reading those comments, short anecdotes of people describing their experiences with different succubi and incubi.

Honestly, thought this was BS, but turns out it was one of the wildest nights of my life—didn't even need a safe word, 'cause this dude knew exactly what he was doing. - DarkDreamer99

Mine had pink eyes! Super freaky at first but, not gonna lie, 10/10. - PinkObsession

Listen, if you've never experienced this, you're missing out. Seriously. Just follow the steps, and don't skip anything. - LustfulWanderer

And then you found it—the gold mine. A comment by someone named Sinner_69. They detailed a step-by-step guide on how to do everything, from setting up the ritual to what materials were needed.

Now, common sense said not to go blindly trusting internet comments, but even the author of the post had replied, thanking Sinner_69 and reviewing their method with raging approval.

Your eyes widened, and you blinked at the comment, not sure if you should laugh or close the window. Curiosity got the better of you, and you kept reading down the list.

"Okay, let's see... a bowl, sage, needle, candles..." you mumbled to yourself, going over the list out loud.

The door to your room opened, and you slammed your laptop shut, looking up to see Nobara.

She was still in the same outfit from earlier but had changed into a shorter crop top that showed off her midriff. "Are you sure you don't want to come to the party?" she asked, giving you one last chance.

You waved her off, "Nah, I'm good."

"Alright, suit yourself," she said with a shrug, heading out the door.

As soon as she left, you reopened the laptop and gave the post one more glance. You muttered, "What the hell?" when you saw that an blood was needed. "Goddammit ____, why do you put yourself through this?" you mumbled out loud, heaving yourself off of your bed and rushing over to put your boots on. "I'm so gonna regret this," you sighed, grabbing your jacket and keys on the way out.

"Okay, let's see here, it says first I need..." you read to yourself, pushing up your reading glasses when you felt them slipping.

Within an hour, you managed to not only gather all the supplies needed for the 'summoning' but also completed the first half of the directions.

Though it took a total of three stores, and several judgmental looks from the cashier when buying the demon wards from the Halloween store, you could say it was a success.

Now, you sat in the middle of the circle, allowing the smells of the incense to calm you down. The window in your bedroom was cracked open, letting the warm night breeze filter in. It carried with it the gentle rustle of leaves from outside, and the occasional distant hum of passing cars.

The soft movement of air made the candle flames flicker slightly, casting shifting shadows across the walls. The atmosphere was both soothing and unnerving, as if the room itself held its breath, waiting.

With your eyes closed, you began to chant the words found on the post.

"I, L/N  ____, pledge to give myself to the powers of the other side in order to fulfill my desires," you said, your voice loud and steady as you recalled the article stating that the spirits would only listen to those who were willing to give up their all, "my desire is to be presented with an entity that will ensure not only a gain in sexual knowledge as a virgin, but give me confidence to pursue an individual that has currently caught my eye."

After a few seconds of silence, you moved on to the next step. With a deep breath, you began the incantations, "Daemonium de desiderio. Dolores inferni circumdederunt me gratia tua." Your voice remained steady as you repeated this three times. You took another deep breath, trying to keep yourself calm. "It's now or never, ____," you told yourself, remembering the next step of the ritual. "You've come this far to chicken out now."

The candlelight flickered slightly, and you shivered, feeling a chill run through your body. "Just relax, ____, just make a little prick, no biggie," you muttered, gripping the needle tightly between your trembling fingers as you held your hand over the wooden bowl filled with a mixture of herbs and other ingredients. The dim glow of the candles reflected off the small needle in your hand.

Taking a deep breath, you placed the tip of the needle against your thumb, mumbling to yourself, "Just a little prick, just a little prick..." over and over. But the moment the sharp point touched your skin, panic set in.

The thought of pain—no matter how minor—made your stomach twist. You hated unnecessary pain, always had. Even the idea of a small cut was enough to make you wince.

Your hands began to tremble more, and tears of frustration welled up in your eyes. "I can't do it!" you cried, dropping the needle as your voice cracked. You shivered, your entire body tensing up in fear, unable to go through with the procedure. You sighed deeply, slouching forward, rubbing a hand down your face. "Gods, what's wrong with me," you muttered with a strained laugh, staring at the materials and the open laptop in front of you.

With a sigh, you reached over and shut the laptop, leaning back and preparing yourself for a mini-sad pity party. It felt ridiculous—summoning an incubus, just to fail because you couldn't handle a little pain. You shook your head, a self-deprecating smile tugging at your lips.

"Ow!" you suddenly yelped, yanking your hand up. You looked down to find the needle had somehow lodged itself between your thumb and index finger. Your eyes widened, a frown tugging at your lips.

You carefully pulled it out, wincing slightly at the sting before dropping it once more, not noticing as it fell directly into the wooden bowl below.

"Of course," you muttered under your breath, standing up as you sucked on the small wound. You walked towards the bathroom, looking for a band-aid, completely oblivious to what was happening behind you.

Unbeknownst to you, the mixture in the bowl began to bubble slightly, the herbs slowly dissolving as the blood mixed in with the ingredients. The candles flickered again, their flames stretching upwards as if reaching for something.

A strange energy began to fill the room, the air becoming heavy, almost electric. The curtains of your window began to flutter, almost as if someone had crept inside the confines of your room.

"Oh, come on," you groaned as you rummaged through the cabinets, coming up empty-handed. With a sigh, you gave up, shaking your head as you left the bathroom.

As soon as you returned to your room, every single candle surrounding you suddenly went out at once, as if someone had blown them out like birthday candles.

Your eyes snapped open, fear beginning to grow within you as you realized you were suspended in darkness.

This wasn't the typical darkness you were used to—it felt heavier, more inky, like it was swallowing up every ounce of light. The only light you were gifted with was from the moon outside your window, its dim rays barely illuminating the layout of your room.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. Timidly, you felt your way over to your bedside table, fingers fumbling as you reached to flick on the lamp.

You pressed the switch—once, twice—but nothing happened. Panic began to build inside you, your mind racing as you desperately tried to make sense of the situation.

Pulling out your phone, you quickly checked for any notifications. A message from the RA popped up in the group chat: "Heads up everyone, the power will be on and off tonight due to maintenance fixing the breaker. Will keep y'all updated." You sighed, your fingers trembling slightly as you lowered your phone. "Great timing," you muttered under your breath.

Determined not to let the eerie atmosphere get the best of you, you reached into your bedside drawer, searching for your lighter to relight the candles for light. Your fingers brushed against the cold metal, and you pulled it out, flicking it on with shaky hands.

The small flame flickered to life, casting a warm glow that provided you with a bit of comfort, even if it wasn't much.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves as you glanced around the darkened room. Something felt off—the air was thick, charged, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you weren't alone.

Walking back over to one of the candles, you flicked it on, ready to light the candles back up, thinking that the wind from outside might have blown them out. Leaning forward to the first candle, you flinched when you heard a thump from somewhere behind you.

You swiveled your head left and right, trying to see if you could find what caused the noise.

At once, all the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as the temperature of the room dropped. "...____..." A voice suddenly whispered out your name, the sound echoing as if someone was shouting in the distance.

You could feel your heart thrumming dangerously within your chest.

"...____..." It sounded breathless, somewhat taunting as it bounced around the room.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt a chill sweep throughout your body. It felt as if someone was sitting before you, blowing air into your face.

You squeezed your right hand, hoping that the pain would help anchor you amidst your whirling emotions, but it did nothing as your fear raged on like a fire scorching away.

With clenched eyes, you began to mumble soft hymns to yourself, "Jesus l-loves me, yes I know, f-for the Bible tells me so..." The tune was shaky as it left your trembling lips.

"Okay, breathe, ____, this is not real, it is only my imagination," you told yourself, repeating the sentence over and over again like a mantra. You felt your breathing calm down with the words, your shoulders relaxing as you began to believe in what you said. "See, it was just all in your head—"

You stopped breathing when you felt warm breath ghost over the side of your face, a pair of soft lips grazing the top of your ear.

"Aww," the voice teased, the tone dripping with mockery. "Did you really think a few little hymns would protect you? How precious..."

A blood-curdling scream exited your mouth just as the lights flickered on. You stumbled back, your heart pounding painfully against your ribcage. The lighter dropped from your hand, clattering to the floor as your wide eyes darted around the room.

Nothing. There was no one there.

The candles remained unlit, the curtains still, and the air seemed to have returned to its normal temperature.

But you knew—you knew—that you hadn't imagined it. Your skin still tingled from the feeling of those lips against your ear, and the echo of that mocking voice still reverberated in your mind.

Your eyes flicked to the bowl on the floor, the once-glowing mixture now dark and still. You backed up, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps as you tried to process what had just happened. "This can't be real," you whispered, your voice shaking. "This isn't happening."

Instead of hitting the wall, your back collided with something else—something firm and warm. Panic surged through you, and before you could react, a familiar voice drawled behind you, "You humans are so weird..."

You felt hands trail down your back, their touch sending a shiver through you as they moved down your arms before wrapping around your waist in a firm grip. The sensation wasn't just hands; it was claws, sharp yet careful, grazing your skin as if savoring every tremble you made. "...You wish for something, yet when it's in front of you, you deny it, run from it... How amusing."

Your breath felt trapped in your throat, your heart pounding wildly. Slowly, against every instinct in your body screaming at you to run, you turned around. The grip on your waist loosened slightly, allowing you to face whatever was behind you.

Your heart skipped a beat, your eyes widening as you took in the sight before you. He was tall—taller than any man you'd ever seen.

His hair was a stark, snowy white, almost glowing in the dim light of your room, and his eyes were an intense, piercing blue that seemed to look right through you. His chest was bare, revealing perfectly sculpted muscles, each defined line standing out under his honey-tan skin.

He was also wearing short silk boxers that stopped mid-thigh, the fabric clinging loosely to his form. The warmth of his skin contrasted with the sharpness of his presence, making him appear almost otherworldly.

But what truly caught your attention were the small, curled horns protruding from his head and the long, winding tail that lazily whipped behind him.

Your mouth opened and closed several times, but no words came out.

The incubus smirked, bending at the waist and bringing up a clawed hand. He used a single finger to gently scratch under your chin, then closed your mouth for you. "What's the matter... devil got your tongue?" he taunted, his voice laced with amusement.

You took a staggering step back, your heart racing. Finally, you managed to find your voice, though it was shaky. "I-It worked," you stammered, unable to keep the surprise from your voice. "You... you actually came."

The incubus grinned, stepping over the wooden bowl and chalk lines as if they meant nothing. He moved with a confidence that was both captivating and terrifying, his gaze never leaving you. "Of course I did. How could I resist such an earnest little summoning?"

You swallowed hard, your mind racing. He was here. An actual incubus was in your room, and the realization hit you like a ton of bricks.

This was real. You had actually done it.

The demon's eyes trailed over your form, taking in the sight of your tank-top and short sleeping shorts. His voice came out low and teasing, his head tilting slightly as he spoke. "So, you're the one who wants to gain some experience, huh?" he said, his voice dripping with amusement as he took a step closer.

You felt your face heat up, your cheeks burning at his words. In that moment, you forgot entirely why you had even done this whole ritual—caught up in the fact that it had actually worked. "I-I mean, I just..." you stammered, your words trailing off as you felt awkward under his intense gaze.

The demon took another step closer, towering over you. He let out a soft, almost mocking coo at your embarrassment. "Aw, don't be shy. You summoned me for a reason, didn't you?"

You nodded, barely able to meet his gaze. Your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears that it drowned out everything else. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, and you jumped slightly at the contact, your eyes snapping back to his.

"Relax," he murmured, his thumb gently stroking your skin. "I'm not gonna bite... unless you want me to." His smirk widened, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Your breath hitched, and you felt your entire body tense. He was so close, his presence overwhelming, and you could feel the heat radiating off of him. You swallowed, trying to steady your breathing, but it was impossible with him looking at you like that—with those eyes that seemed to see right through you.

The incubus's hand slid from your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head up so that you had no choice but to look at him. "You said you wanted to learn, right?" he whispered, his lips just inches from yours. "I can teach you... everything you want to know."

Just as he leaned down, about to press his lips against yours, you suddenly found your voice, stuttering out, "W-Wait!" You pushed past him, your hands trembling as you put space between the two of you.

You held up a shaky hand, trying to steady your breath. "Just... just give me a second, okay?" you said, your voice still trembling. You needed time to think—to understand what was happening, to process this overwhelming presence.

The incubus sighed, a sound that was almost a groan of frustration. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he crossed his arms over his bare chest. "You don't understand, sweetheart," he said, his voice laced with impatience. "I can't leave until our bargain is complete. You summoned me for a reason—until you lose your virginity, until we complete what you called me here for, I am bound to you."

Your eyes widened, and you swallowed nervously. "I... I know. It's just—" you paused, trying to gather your thoughts. "There's this guy, Suguru. I... I like him, but he doesn't mess with virgins, and I don't know what I'm doing. I thought maybe if I had some experience, I could... I don't know..." You trailed off, your face burning in embarrassment. The words tumbled out in a messy, awkward ramble, and you wished you could just disappear.

The incubus laughed, a low, amused chuckle that made your skin prickle. He slowly began closing the distance between you again, his eyes never leaving yours. "Oh, I see now," he said, a teasing lilt to his voice. "This is all for some boy, huh?"

You took a step back, shaking your head. "It's not like that! I mean, it is, but—" You stumbled over your words, watching as his smirk grew wider with every stutter.

He took another step forward, and you moved again, trying to keep the space between you. "I—I mean, I don't even know you like that," you stammered, your voice weak as you grasped for any excuse.

He froze, staring down at you as if you had just grown several heads. He raised an eyebrow, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and amusement. Then, after a moment, he let out an amused scoff. "You don't know me, huh?" He shook his head, his eyes glinting with something wicked. "Fine, you can call me Satoru."

Before you could react, the incubus—Satoru—stalked toward you, his movements smooth and confident. You backed up until you felt the wall press against your back, your heart pounding as he stopped just inches away from you.

His arm came up, his palm resting flat against the wall beside your head, effectively pinning you in place.

"Listen, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "You wanted to learn, right? Well, you need to learn the basics first. You need to learn how to relax, how to let yourself feel..." His other hand reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm, trailing up to your shoulder. "How to respond to someone's touch."

Your breath caught in your throat, your entire body tensing as his fingers traced along your skin. The heat of his touch was almost too much, your heart racing as his words sank in.

You knew he was right—you had summoned him for this, to learn, to gain experience—but it was so much more overwhelming than you had imagined.

Satoru started speaking again, his voice pulling your attention back to him. He tilted your face up gently, making you meet his eyes as he hummed, "I understand... You're a virgin, after all." He said it softly, almost as if he was comforting you, but there was a teasing edge in his tone that made your cheeks flush even more.

Slowly, he backed away from you, his gaze never leaving yours until he stopped at the edge of your bed. He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he spoke again. "If you're not ready to start, that's fine. We can start slow... Maybe you could learn the signs of when a man wants you."

You blinked, confusion furrowing your brow. "What do you mean—?" you started to ask, but your tongue went dry in your throat as you watched him. Satoru's blue eyes darkened, his entire presence becoming almost magnetic as he leaned back on your bed, propping himself up on his hands.

His muscles flexed as he settled into the position, his sculpted chest and abs on full display, his honey-tan skin almost glowing in the light. You couldn't help but stare, your eyes following the lines of his body as he showcased himself. Satoru noticed your reaction, his smirk widening, clearly pleased.

"It's not hard to see the signs," he said, his voice smooth as silk as he spread his legs slightly, the movement confident and intentional. His tail whipped behind him lazily, the motion almost hypnotic as he continued speaking. "A man's body will tell you everything you need to know if you pay attention."

Your eyes flicked down, unable to help yourself as Satoru's hands moved slowly over his own skin. He rubbed his chest, his fingers tracing the defined lines of his muscles, before moving down to his thighs. His touch was deliberate, his fingers pressing into the firm muscle, and you could feel your face growing hotter with every passing second.

He let out a soft sigh, his eyes watching you intently as he continued. "The way his body reacts... the way he touches himself... all signs that he wants you." His voice was low, almost a purr, and it made your stomach twist with a mix of nervousness and something else—something that made your skin feel too hot, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

Satoru's hand moved lower, and before you could process what was happening, he pulled out his dick, the length thick and impressive as it flopped heavily against his stomach. His eyes never left yours as he did so, watching your every reaction.

Your eyes widened, embarrassment flooding you, but no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn't look away.

Your gaze was fixed on him, your breath catching in your throat as you took in the sight before you—the way it rested against his stomach, the veins prominent along the thick length, pulsing faintly. The pink, flushed tip stood out against the rest, glistening slightly.

The slight sheen of his skin under the dim light made every detail more vivid, and the trail of white hair leading down accentuated his toned muscles.

It was overwhelming, and yet, you were entranced.

He stroked himself slowly, his eyes glinting with amusement as he watched your reaction. "See, sweetheart? It's all about paying attention... learning what a man wants." His voice was a seductive whisper, his gaze holding you captive as he continued.

Satoru's hand moved in steady, deliberate strokes, his eyes never leaving yours. He let out soft groans, each sound making your stomach twist with an unfamiliar mix of nervousness and curiosity. The noise started out as barely audible sighs, but soon turned into deep, breathy pants that filled the room, echoing in your ears.

His gaze was locked on you, his blue eyes darkened with lust as he watched your every reaction—how your eyes widened, how your lips parted slightly, and how you shifted uncomfortably where you stood. His legs were spread out, his body relaxed as he continued to touch himself, his movements growing more purposeful with each passing moment.

He moaned, the sound low and drawn out, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. His hips began to move slightly, rising off the bed in response to his own touch. The veins along his length stood out even more as his hand moved faster, his breaths turning into shallow pants.

Satoru let out a low whimper, his eyes never breaking contact with yours. "____..." he murmured, your name slipping from his lips in a breathy moan that made your entire body tense. You squeezed your thighs together instinctively, trying to ignore the heat that was building inside you.

It was too much—his voice, the way he said your name—it all made you feel things you weren't sure how to handle.

He noticed, of course, his smirk widening as his eyes flicked down to your legs. "Aw, a-are you feeling it too, s-sweetheart?" he teased, his voice barely above a whisper. He let out another groan, his hips stuttering slightly as they lifted off the bed, his hand working faster over himself.

Satoru's movements became more urgent, his body tensing as he continued, his eyes still locked onto yours.

Every noise he made—every groan, every sigh—seemed to echo in your head, making it impossible to think of anything else but him and the way he was looking at you.

Satoru's movements became more urgent, his body tensing as he continued, his eyes still locked onto yours.

Every noise he made—every groan, every sigh—seemed to echo in your head, making it impossible to think of anything else but him and the way he was looking at you.

His eyes flashed a bright electric blue for a split second, and his voice came out husky, filled with need. "Come here," he commanded, and before you could even think, your feet were moving, obeying him.

You found yourself standing right in front of him, close enough that you could see every detail—the way his thighs twitched, the muscles of his stomach flexing, the slick, wet sounds of his hand moving over himself filling the space between you.

You felt yourself growing hotter, the sight of him this close making it impossible to ignore just how affected he was. His breathing was labored, each pant turning into a needy groan. His hips moved steadily, his body following the rhythm of his hand, and then his eyes met yours again. "Touch me," he groaned, the desperation clear in his voice.

You bit your bottom lip, your hands shaking as you slowly reached out. Your fingers brushed against his thigh, and the moment you made contact, Satoru let out a sultry groan, his head falling back, eyes closing briefly.

Encouraged, you let your hands trail up and down his thighs, feeling the strength in the muscles beneath your fingers. His skin was warm, almost hot to the touch, and you couldn't help but be in awe of the power you felt in him.

Satoru let out another groan, his hips stuttering for a moment as if reminding you of what he wanted. Your eyes flicked up, and you saw his head lolled to the side, his right arm tense and trembling as it held him up while his left hand continued to work over himself. He looked undone, his usually confident demeanor replaced with something raw and vulnerable.

You swallowed hard, your eyes flicking down to where your hand rested on his thigh. Slowly, you moved your hand up, caressing his skin until you hesitantly cupped the base of his length. It was hot—almost burning—and you could feel it twitch against your palm, the sensation making your heart pound even harder.

Satoru let out a deep groan, his eyes fluttering open to look at you. "Squeeze," he muttered, his voice rough, and you did as he asked, your fingers wrapping around him. He let out a shaky breath, his hips pushing up into your hand, and he cleared his throat, panting as he looked up at you. "Stroke it... like this," he instructed, guiding your movements. "Every man likes it a bit different, but... just follow my lead."

You nodded, your hand moving awkwardly at first as you tried to mimic his earlier motions. Satoru's gaze never left you, his breaths growing heavier as you found a rhythm.

The heat of him under your touch was almost overwhelming, and you could feel the slickness of his pre-cum as it dribbled down, coating your hand. He let out a low, broken moan, his hips snapping up more frantically, the wet sounds growing louder as you continued.

His entire body seemed to tense, his muscles straining as he came closer to the edge. His abs clenched, his stomach flexing involuntarily with each thrust of his hips. The sounds he made grew louder, more desperate, until finally, with a deep, guttural moan, he came.

His back arched off the bed, his body trembling as his release spilled over, dribbling down his length and hitting your hand. His eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth falling open as he rode out his orgasm, every muscle in his body going taut before slowly relaxing.

The cum dripped down, pooling on his stomach, and you couldn't help but watch, your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him coming apart beneath your touch.

Satoru cracked open an eye, his lips tugging up into a smirk. "Good job," he murmured, his voice still a bit breathless. "You just learned how to give a handjob."

You felt your face flush, a mix of embarrassment and defensiveness bubbling up inside you. "I-I know how one is done," you muttered, trying to hide the awkwardness you felt. "I... I even know what a blowjob is... I've done it before." The words slipped out before you could stop them, and your mind flashed back to your senior prom, shivering in disgust at the memory of your date fumbling and the uncomfortable experience.

It had been horrible—nothing like this.

Satoru's amused hum pulled you back from the terrible memory. He shifted slightly, leaning back comfortably on your bed, his smirk widening as he looked at you. "Is that so?" he asked, clearly intrigued.

Before you could respond, he continued, his tone shifting into something a bit more curious. "Tell me then... Have you ever been eaten out before?"

Your eyes widened, and you let out a startled noise, almost choking on your own breath. "W-What?!" you spluttered, your face heating up even more. "That has nothing to do with learning how to please a man!"

Satoru sat up, his eyes still locked on you. "Of course it does," he said matter-of-factly, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. "Some men get nothing but pleasure from taking care of their partner... Making sure you're enjoying yourself can be the biggest turn-on."

You opened your mouth to disagree, but the words caught in your throat when Satoru reached for your wrist, his fingers wrapping around it gently. He pulled you closer, his touch firm but not forceful, until you were standing directly in front of him. He stared up at you through his lashes, his white hair falling messily across his forehead, and you couldn't help but feel your breath hitch.

"C'mon," he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. "Ride my face."

You blinked, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to come up with a response. "I-I don't think... I mean, what if I'm too heavy—" you started to say, only for Satoru to cut you off with a scoff.

"Sweetheart, I'm not human," he said, his voice filled with amusement. "You can't hurt me." As if to prove his point, his tail curled around your waist, the firm grip a reminder of his strength and otherworldly nature. "Trust me... I want this."

You looked off to the side, your anxiety bubbling in your chest. After a long moment, you finally gave in, your voice barely above a whisper. "Okay..."

Satoru wasted no time. His hands moved to your shorts, pulling them down swiftly and tossing them somewhere behind him. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing as he guided you over his body, his hands pulling you closer as he lay back down, urging you to crawl over him.

Your knees pressed into the bed on either side of his chest, and you moved awkwardly, your heart pounding as you tried to position yourself above him.

His hands found their place at your waist, the warmth of his touch grounding you as you hovered over his head.

Every inch of your skin felt like it was on fire, and the insecurity you felt only made it worse. You were unsure of what to expect—sure, you'd read smut, you'd watched porn, but it was entirely different when you were actually doing it.

This was real, and you could feel every nerve in your body buzzing with uncertainty.

You avoided looking down, not wanting to meet those electric blue eyes that were staring up at you from between your thighs. You could feel his gaze on you, his intensity almost overwhelming, and it made you feel vulnerable in a way you'd never felt before.

"Are you ready?" Satoru asked, his voice softer now, a hint of something almost reassuring beneath the teasing tone.

You nodded, though your voice betrayed you. "I... I guess," you muttered, your voice shaky and uncertain.

Before you could prepare yourself, Satoru yanked you down onto his mouth, his grip firm as he pulled you against him.

You let out a startled gasp, your hands shooting out to steady yourself as you fell forward slightly, your fingers tangling in his hair. A low groan rumbled from his throat the moment he tasted you, the vibration sending a shiver through your entire body.

His tongue was hot, wet, and the feeling of it against you made your head spin. He traced up and down your slit with a deliberate slowness, each movement of his tongue making your breath hitch.

You could feel the warmth of his mouth, the way his tongue explored every part of you, his lips wrapping around your clit as he sucked gently, then tonguing the sensitive bundle of nerves.

You couldn't help the sounds that slipped from your lips, your entire body trembling as he worked you over. His hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly in place as he continued, the sensation of his tongue moving against you almost too much to handle.

You tried to lift yourself up, to ease the overwhelming pressure building inside of you, but his tail curled around your waist tightened, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

"S-Satoru." You whined out his name in a broken moan, your hips slowly beginning to grind against his mouth, finding a delicious tempo.

Satoru groaned in response, the sound vibrating against you, sending another wave of pleasure through your body. His tongue moved with a deliberate slowness, almost teasing in the way it licked over you. It felt strange—soft yet firm, the texture unfamiliar but intoxicating.

A stuttered gasp left your lips as his tongue began to press into your entrance, the hot, wet sensation making your thighs tremble.

You couldn't control your movements anymore, your hips rocking against his face, chasing the pleasure that was building inside of you. Each flick of his tongue, each graze of his lips against your sensitive skin made your breath hitch, your fingers gripping tightly onto his hair as you lost yourself in the feeling.

Satoru's grip on your hips tightened, guiding you, encouraging you to keep going, his muffled groans only spurring you on further.

Your legs trembled, your movements growing more frantic as the pressure built higher and higher, the knot in your stomach tightening until it was almost unbearable. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as you rode his face, your entire body tensing.

And then, finally, it snapped. A wave of pleasure crashed over you, your body shuddering as you came, your head thrown back, eyes squeezing shut as your hips stuttered against his mouth.

You could feel Satoru groaning against you, his tongue still moving, drawing out every last bit of pleasure as your body trembled above him.

Your legs felt like they could barely hold you up as you moved off of Satoru, collapsing next to him on the bed, panting heavily. Your entire body felt boneless, the aftershocks of your release still making your muscles twitch.

You glanced over at Satoru, your cheeks flushing as you took in the sight of him—his face slick with your juices, his eyes half-lidded and satisfied.

Satoru stretched like a cat, his body arching as he let out a contented sigh, looking entirely too pleased with himself. He sat up slowly, his gaze flicking to you as he used his thumb to swipe over his bottom lip before sucking on it, his eyes never leaving yours.

He moved closer, crawling over to you with a lazy grin on his face. "So," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Were you satisfied?"

You nodded, your cheeks still flushed. "Y-Yeah..." you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Satoru's hand reached up, his fingers brushing against your neck before cupping your face gently. He hummed, his eyes studying your expression. "You know," he said, his tone almost thoughtful, "technically, I've completed our deal." He smirked, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "You didn't specify what kind of sex... only that you wanted experience, confidence. And I'd say teaching you this definitely counts."

His eyes darkened slightly, the teasing glint in them replaced with something more intense. His thumb traced along your lip, his gaze locked onto yours. "But I have to say," he murmured, his voice dropping lower, "I really enjoyed this..."

He leaned in closer, his lips just barely brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Don't worry, sweetheart... I'll be back. After all, you're still a virgin."

With that, he pulled away, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. His body seemed to dissolve into black smoke, the dark tendrils swirling around him before disappearing completely, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room, your heart still pounding in your chest.

You flopped back onto your bed, releasing a satisfied sigh. "Well, that escalated quickly..."

Your phone pinged. Reaching for it, you turned it on, eyes widening at the notification.

Geto Suguru now follows you.

"Well, shit..."

A/N: ahhhh, not me getting into the halloween spirit 💀 hope you guys enjoy this just as much as i enjoyed writing it...

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Hold On You 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, bullying, depression, controlling and abusive behaviour, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to look on the bright side of life but a man comes along to blot out the sun.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Your eyes narrow as you hunch over the folding TV table. You work at tamping the felt in just the right shape. The headless body, made of metal wire encased in more felt sits on the corner, awaiting its final touch. Your vision is cloudy at the edges. You let yourself have a cry last night at the cost of puffy eyes today. Those grey moods exhaust you.

You sigh as you blend the grey black and white. The small raccoon will be the first of many. At least twelve for stock. 

A hobby and some extra income. You need it since they cut your hours to part-time. All the data entry firms are. You read on a forum that AI is slowly depleting the field. You don't relish going back to customer service... you're not very good at it. You can hardly make yourself smile at your reflection.

You sniff. You look up at the corner shelf, stuffed with similar figures to the one in pieces before you. Squirrels, bunnies, lots of cats. Those are a best-seller.

You put the head and needle down. You can't focus. Usually, the work puts a pause on the gloom. The grey sky outside your windows doesn't help. You sit back and press your hand around your forehead. You knead your temples with your thumbs.

It's too quiet. Well, not exactly. You can hear Katy yelling at her teens and Mr. Burton is hammering on the wall again. He needs to just call the building for whatever he keeps trying to fix. Or maybe he's breaking it?

You get up and go to the record player. You lay on the one album you've yet to listen to. That new poppy hit. It's probably a few years too young for you. You're in the limbo between twenty-five and thirty. A murky no man's land where all your friends are newly married, freshly pregnant, or celebrating promotions. You're doing neither of those.

You let the record spin the intro and retreat to the sagging armchair. The seat is molded to your shape but not comfy. You lean on the high armrest and close your eyes.

Oh, I leave quite an impression Five feet to be exact You're wonderin' why half his clothes went missin' My body's where they're at

You chew your cheek as you follow the lyrics as best you can. Scandalizing, scintillating, sexy. Not you. Maybe that was a bad choice. This is music for the young girls with their long lashes and coy glossy smiles. That was never you.

Affairs, flings, hookups, whatever the young ones say...situationships? You're not the type. You're not good for it. Too sad. Too quiet. You overheard the giggly whispering. It's your own fault you don't see your friends. Or that they aren't your friends anymore. 

Knowing what they really think of you... you're not good at pretending like that. You can smile, you can chirp, you can run a script with stranger, but they were supposed to actually like you.

Choices can be liberating but they can also be oppressive. Cut the cord and you're free falling into the void. You sit up as the next song starts.

I know I have good judgment, I know I have good taste It's funny and it's ironic that only I feel that way I promise 'em that you're different and everyone makes mistakes But just don't

You wish you had that confidence. You get up and turn down the volume so you can hear the melody but the lyrics are obscured. You shuffle over to the couch and flop onto it. You're tired. Another night wasted.

🧡

Punk Rock Market. You've never been to one. Never heard of one. The flyer was mixed in with your mail. Bills, adds, some religious pamphlet. It was the only thing that piqued your interest. You keep it on your fridge until the date of. 

You clutch it in your sweaty hand. It wrinkles as you keep checking the address. It's at an intersection. Hmmm. Okay. You think you know the one.

It's a few blocks further than you thought. You follow the swell of pedestrians into the browning green square. The grass is flattened from the traffic. Second thoughts slow your steps but the tides of patrons keep you moving.

You stop to look at jade and quartz medallions. Hand-made as the signs proclaim. The women behind the stall table have thickly-winged liner and lots of piercings. Their hair is shades of burnt-out bleach blond and pastels. One asks if you're looking for something in particular.

"Just look, I guess," you answer with a shrug. You bend to examine a cuff with opal. "Very pretty."

They don't hear you as they're already more interested in a customer who looks more like them. You move on. It's not unusual. Those who notice you, don't for long. Or if they do, it's never a good thing.

You stop to admire some hand-sewn dolls with twists of cotton for hair. You sell most of your things online, or a few places let you buy half a shelf for display, though they don't sell many. Something like this might be a good idea but you saw the prices for the other markets... you don't have that sort of overhead.

You're edged out of the stall by a group of platformed-booted shoppers. You back away and collide with a stroller. You spin and apologise, a glower from the mother and her husband as you do. You're trapped between them and the distracted group behind you.

Your heart picks up. You should've expected crowds but this is a bit much. You look around. You'll only hit the stroller again or someone else. You search until you see your only hope of escape. Between the stalls, right past the empty crates and thick electrical wires.

You flee, keeping your head down in case one of the sellers thinks to stop you. Your pulse tempos behind your eardrums. You curl around the back of the stalls and race toward the park entrance. You're going to call it another fail.

You slip out between a stall and the post of the banner for the market event. You're nearly taken off your feet as someone entering hits you with their arm. A rather thick arm that has you reeling and rubbing your side. You back up as the figure stops with a gruff growl.

It can't be. You're sure you recognise them. It's almost impossible to run into the same face twice in the city. Yet, your luck has always been grimly ironic.

As the deja vu clicks. You gulp. It's the man from the record store. You pout.

"Sorry, I..."

"What're you creeping around for?" He snarls.

"I... I was leaving--"

"Why were you back there?" He asks.

"Huh, oh, I got lost--"

"Dude, chill," his buddy peeks past him. "Place is packed."

The man's fist opens and closes, drawing your attention as his jaw grits. "I could get... through." You eke out.

"You," he raises his gloved hand and points in your face. "Girly pop."

You blink. Oh no. He remembers you.

"I..." you shrug. "Sorry, excuse me," you try to slip by and he catches your arm. 

"You didn't answer me. What were you up to?" He drags you back as others grumble behind you, pushing to get into the park.

"Yo, she told you," his friend jabs. "Chill, Buck. Let's get going."

He narrows his eyes as his forehead lines. He squeezes until you feel your blood struggling to course past the tension. He lets you go with a subtle shove.

"Whatever," he turns back to his pal. "Let's go find that oil or whatever you were going on about."

He stalks by and you turn to watch him. He's not a very happy person but neither are you. You turn and flee before he can have second thoughts. Strange how his friend seemed familiar too.

You head down the street and reach for your phone. Maybe you'll find something else. Going back to your apartment just means giving in to the grey. It's a sunny day, you want to enjoy it.

There's a cafe near here. They boast of nitro brew and protein coffee. You're not sure of either but they must have tea.

You get lost a block down and have to back track. You can be so clueless. You finally find the front door, though it is easy to miss. Black windows, black glass, like some sort of secret meetup.

You enter and join the line. It's not much less crowded than the park. You wait patiently for your turn and order the 'booster' tea.

You shove your hand deep into your satchel. You fish around frantically. Your wallet? Where is it? You blink helplessly at the employee behind the counter and apologise.

You run out and look up and down the street. Your wallet is gone. You feel around your pockets and all over. You retrace your steps, along your detour and back to the market. You gape into the sea of people. There's no way you'll find it!

What can you do? Cancel your card and figure out how to replace your IDs... figures. Nothing nice ever happens. Every idea you have is just a mistake. Go home. Stop trying.

🧡

The New York skyline looms darkly through the windows. The moonless night invades your apartment, the single lamp doing little to light the space. You sit in its glow, shoulders wracked, neck bent, tediously poking the pattern into the felt. The leopard was an optimistic choice in subject.

The record player turns. Etta croons richly as the clock ticks on. It's midnight, probably later. You haven't checked in some time. You can't sleep but you also can't bare to lay and stare at the ceiling.

Your tendons strain with your efforts. Everything is so precise. Your fingers feel as if they might lock into place. Your head is throbbing.

The record plays through Side B and the player clicks. You don't get up to stop it for some time. Your hands shake as you put the needle back and hit the power button.

You push your head back and stretch out the kinks. Your stomach clutches with hunger. Dinner is in the fridge still. You didn't bother reheating the pasta.

You close your eyes as you rub your cheeks. You yawn then drop your arms. You look around the empty box you live in.

You flinch. The windows are so dark, obscured with the reflection of the lamp, yet you swear you can see something. You shake your head. You're imagining it.

You got back to the table and gather up the felt and unfinished project. You have a few new orders. You need to go get some packing stuff to send them out. You tuck it away in the shoe box and slide it onto the cube shelf beneath the record player.

Tap, tap.

You raise your head and look over your shoulder. Something must have bounced off the window yet there's no wind, no rain. The weather is painfully still.

You ignore it and stand. You go back to the table to shut off the lamp.

Tap. Just one but louder. You keep your fingers on the switch attached to the wire but don't flick it. You glance over.

Slap. Something presses to the pane. You can't tell what it is. Small, rectangle. You near as your adrenaline flows and your heartbeat thrums. Something tells you to go back but it's impossible that anyone could be there. There's no fire escape, no balcony. The building is short a few codes.

You stop at the window as your face stares back. The small image on your ID where you don't smile, just stare. DOB, height, number...

Another face appears behind the small card. A scream blooms in your chest but can't escape as the man stares back at you. He taps again. How on earth did he get out there? That man. That one from the record shop and the market. The one you seem to plague more than your own sanity.

He tilts his head and mouths. 'Let me in.'

[uniquexusposts]

I’m not usually like this | L. Stroll (1)

Summary: Lance was working in a cafe and a new girl walked in. He didn't thank the waiter. Instead of ignoring it, she had the audacity to call him out and throw sarcasm at him like they had known each other for years. Part: 1/? A/N: This will be a small series of a few chapters! Inspiration: alijhali on TikTok Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

The café hummed with quiet conversations, the occasional clatter of cups against saucers filling the space. The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries. Outside, the city moved at its usual pace; tourists wandered, locals hurried past, and the distant hum of traffic blended with the ambient noise of the café.

Lance sat at a corner table, his laptop open in front of him, fingers poised over the keyboard. A deep crease lined his forehead as he scrolled through data, muttering under his breath. The screen reflected off his furrowed brows, showing columns of numbers and notes. His untouched coffee sat to the side, wisps of steam curling upward before disappearing into the air. He reached for it absentmindedly, taking a sip that barely registered.

It had been a long day. A frustrating one. A series of emails, last-minute schedule changes, and simulator problems had put him in a foul mood. He had come to this café for some peace, hoping to finish reviewing data before heading home. Instead, his patience was running dangerously thin.

Y/n stepped inside, pausing near the entrance. She took a quick glance around the café, searching for an empty table. No luck. The place was packed, with nearly every seat taken by groups of friends, solo workers, and tourists enjoying an afternoon coffee. The only available spot was across from a man who looked like he had just lost an argument with his laptop.

She hesitated. Sitting with a stranger wasn’t exactly her first choice, especially one radiating that much irritation, but she didn’t have much of an option. Adjusting the strap of her bag, she walked over.

"Is this seat taken?" she asked, motioning to the chair opposite him.

Lance barely spared her a glance, his jaw tightening. "No."

The single word came out curt, edged with impatience. Y/n raised an eyebrow at his tone. She had expected a yes or no, not a whole attitude. Still, she wasn’t about to argue over a seat. With a small shrug, she set her bag down and took a seat.

Minutes passed in silence. Y/n busied herself on her laptop, typing emails and browsing on the internet. Lance remained glued to his screen, fingers tapping away aggressively. The air between them was thick with unspoken annoyance; his, from whatever was on his laptop, and hers, from the way he had dismissed her without a second thought.

The waiter arrived with his coffee, setting it down with a polite nod. Lance accepted it without looking up, too engrossed in whatever data he was analysing.

Y/n exhaled sharply. "You're not going to say thank you?"

Lance blinked, finally looking up from his laptop. "What?"

"You didn’t thank the waiter," she pointed out.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "I just have a lot on my mind."

"Uh-huh." Y/n wasn’t convinced but decided to let it go. It wasn’t her problem if he wanted to be rude.

Time ticked by. The café’s hum remained steady, the soft chatter of patrons blending with the background music playing from the speakers. Y/n shifted in her seat, stretching her legs slightly under the table. Her eyes moved to the message from her laptop; 10 percent left.

She glanced around. "Is there a socket nearby?"

Lance exhaled sharply through his nose, barely looking up. "Behind you."

Y/n turned to check, realising it was just out of reach. She sighed, shaking her head. "You could’ve just said no."

Lance’ fingers stilled over his keyboard. He looked up, finally giving her his full attention. "Excuse me?"

She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table. "Do you think you’re cool? Because you’re not."

Lance blinked, clearly thrown off. "What?"

"Are you single?"

His brows furrowed. "Yeah, why?"

Y/n smirked. "Are we surprised?"

Lance stared at her, dumbfounded. For a second, he didn’t know whether to be annoyed or entertained. He had been expecting her to ignore him like everyone else usually did when he was in a bad mood. Instead, she had the audacity to call him out and throw sarcasm at him like they had known each other for years.

The corner of his mouth twitched; just slightly. He leaned back, arms crossing over his chest as he studied her. "You’ve got a lot of opinions for someone who just sat down."

Y/n shrugged. "Someone had to tell you."

Lance huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "You don’t even know me."

"And yet, here we are," she said, plugging in her laptop as if she hadn’t just completely thrown him off balance.

Silence stretched between them again, but this time, it felt different. Lance found himself glancing at her now and then, intrigued despite himself. She wasn’t intimidated by his grumpiness. If anything, she seemed amused by it. He didn’t know why, but her words stung just a little. It wasn’t that he thought he was too important; it was just… a bad day. But the way she had called him out so effortlessly made him feel like he had to defend himself.

"I’m not usually like this," he admitted.

Y/n gave him a skeptical look. "Mhm. Sure."

"I’m serious."

"I bet you are."

Lance sighed, shaking his head with a small chuckle. "You’re ridiculous," he muttered.

"And yet, you’re still talking to me," Y/n shot back with a grin.

Lance exhaled through his nose, amusement flickering in his gaze. He had no idea who she was, but for the first time that day, he didn’t mind the company.

Part 2

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria @maryvibess @ironmaiden1313 @sltwins @heart-trees @npcmia @llando4norris

[spa-ghett0]

Are there any other interesting tidbits/changes in the Sonic movie novelization?

I’ll be honest, I didn’t read the first book lol I was really only interested in whether the writers had given Tails more of a backstory (which they did… kinda), so that’s why I read the second. However! I did read reviews online that said the first developed Tom & Sonic’s relationship more than in the movie.

Notable mentions in the 2nd book:

•Sonic 2 takes place 8 months after Sonic 1

• Tails spent many months seemingly looking for Sonic… He built those weapons Maddie & Rachel used at the wedding to account for the “natural disasters, dangerous adversaries, and booby traps” he encountered. (I mean!! That’s a whole tv show in itself!!)

• He also built a gun that atomizes things and he’s afraid of it, but he keeps it in his arsenal as a last resort. The text says that he isn’t sure it should be used, which is so interesting to me.

• I think he originally set out to look for the Master Emerald, but the Miles Electric (not what it's called in this universe but that’s what it is) kept picking up its energy across different planets... and somehow he knew that energy belonged to Sonic?

• Earth is the planet the rest of the galaxy is warned about lol

• Knuckles calls Sonic a Child of Mobius. Tails says that's "the traditional home of our kind".

• Tails is looking to find Sonic before “their enemies” do (weird that they have common enemies when they’ve never met?? WHO has Tails pissed off?????? Paramount!! I need to know!!)

• He was ready and willing to prepare Wade's garage for a siege attack (in exchange for stealing the police cruiser and driving it off a cliff). So, again—who has Tails pissed off?

• Instead of "The Master Emerald? That's just a bedtime story!" "Well, he believes it's real," it's "That's just a bedtime story!" "No, it's real. I should know. I think I’m one of the few still looking for it.” (What if one of his ‘enemies’ is Rouge? 👀)

• Tails runs the red light, and Sonic takes the wheel. Meanwhile, Tails climbs in the backseat of the cruiser to build speed boosters mid-chase 'cause Sonic was complaining they were going too slow xD. (This is where the "Promise? Promise you won't go anywhere?" happens :'))

• Tradition among the echidnas was to do an organ swap to make an alliance. Knuckles just breaks Eggman's hand instead, but that's… a part of the lore now. (edit: this is in my Top 5 favorite things from this book. I can imagine someone pitching this idea & the writer’s room going “what the fuck this is a kids movie” lmao)

• Tails offered to help Sonic in Siberia. No "I'm not a field guy!" protests here!

• Short Tails vs Eggman on the mountain (with very Sonic Raised Tails vibes 🥹; the text even says "Tails mocked the villain, almost like Sonic would have")

• Sonic doesn't believe he can fight Eggman and Knuckles alone after the wedding. Tom actually gives him a pep talk.

• Eggman's full name is Ivo Gerald Robotnik (Is that canon in other sonic medias?? I tried looking it up, but I don't see his name like that anywhere, yet I swear I already knew before I read it… *Is his full name canon, I mean. Ivo Gerald Robotnik.)

• Book Sonic reminds me of Modern Sonic more than his movie counterpart sometimes tbh

• There are multiple holograms of Sonic, Knuckles, and Tails at the start of the robot fight instead of just Tails.

• Maddie and Tom literally run through fire to reach Sonic

• Tails names Super Sonic!

• Instead of summoning a chili dog to prove he's not been corrupted by the Emerald, Sonic makes a fart noise with his armpit that has the "decibel of a bomb blast"

• Sonic recreates the Master Emerald, not Knuckles

• "Gotta go fast!" (when Sonic is running across the ocean to meet Eggman and Knuckles at the temple) and "Way past cool!" (post-battle when Tails introduces Knuckles to the power bump)

[divine-crows]

✨️10 Things I always Include in My New Grimoire/Book Of Shadows✨️

I'm getting to the end of my second grimoire (prior to this I'd have random stuff in school notebooks that I unfortunately don't have anymore) so I thought it'd be fitting to talk about the stuff I benefited from copying over into my second Grimoire along with what I will most likely put into my third Grimoire.

Please Note: for my journey a Grimoire is the most fitting way for me to describe my preferred method of transcribing what I learn. As a result I will be referring to a Grimoire the whole time but this knowledge can be generally applied to other witchy books meant to hold knowledge.

To help with dictinctions:

Anything with an asterisk* indicates I regretted not including it before

Anything without is stuff I've included and benefitted from having on hand

1. The Elements and Their Correspondences

What I Include in this entry:

- A page dedicated to each element

- Tarot Card, Astrological sign, Color, Crystal, and Herb correspondes (condensed down to crystals and herbs I'm guaranteed to use)

- a vague list with ideas on what this element embodies vibe wise (for example: Earth can represent success, stability or fertility)

- A page dedicated to ideas on how I can work with each element

- how to invoke and banish an element with a pentacle

Why I Find this Entry Useful:

It makes for a very useful reference point when doing spellwork. I can easily see if I can use elemental symbolism and how I can incorporate it.

It also can be nice to reference if I'm celebrating a holiday that embodies the energy of a specific element. I can reference the page for ideas on herbs to use while cooking, colors I can incorporate, etc.

2. Moon Phases, Time, and Seasonal Correspondences

What I include in this Entry:

- a drawing of each moon phase along with about three adjectives to describe the phase

- lists of associations for each time of day

- a chart of the cardinal directions and which season and element corresponds with each one

Why I find this Entry Useful:

It might sound weird that I have all of this stuff condensed down into one entry but hear me out: it's so much nicer to plan rituals and spellwork when all you have to do is look through two pages??? Especially if your first grimoire has all of these entries in more detail (which I heavily reccomend so all of the knowledge is still recorded somewhere), it's nice to know you can easily access the basics without reading every little detail, and then you can always go back to your old grimoire when you need to access more information on the topic.

3. Cartomancy/Tarot

What I Include in this Entry:

- very brief definition of Major Arcana, Minor Arcana, and Court Cards

- elemental correspondences of minor arcana plus what they symbolize

- what each court card symbolizes

- a numerology "cheat sheet"

Why I Find this Entry Useful:

This is one of those things that will not be helpful for everyone but since I practice tarot frequently it's perfect for me. Even if you're not a big tarot person I at least reccomend you pick something you do a lot and create a condensed version for you to review when you need it!

4. The Witches Compass/Opening and Closing Circles

What I Include in this Entry:

- a brief explanation on why you'd use one

- a step by step guide on how you would open and close one

Why I Find this Entry Useful:

Even though I don't always utilize the Witches' Compass or a standard magic circle, I like to have a condensed form written in case I need to perform a ritual but don't have the space to lug around multiple books.

5. Alters, Shrines, and Temples

What I Include in This Entry:

- Definitions of each word

- a list of examples of types of alters

- a general run-down on what typically goes on an altar

- ideas on how to decorate an altar

Why I Find this Entry Useful:

I actually don't have an altar space currently, but I do find it useful to have inspiration on hand in case I need it. I also just find it useful to have the distinctions on hand in case I'm cross referencing my research.

6. Warding and Defensive Magic*

What I Include in this Entry:

- a list of types of wards with minor guidance on how to use them if I don't use them often

- ways I can use defensive magic if things go wrong

-When to ward/When not to ward a space

- a page dedicated to the Witches Ladder, how to make one, and I typically include one of my own spells with it.

- a page dedicated to a basic house protection spell

Why I Find this Entry Useful:

This is one of the topics I didn't copy over into my current Grimoire but really regret not doing. Since I like to dabble in Astral travel and a huge part of my practice is working with the in between this knowledge is nice to have on hand.

I'm personally of the school of thought that you don't need to ward everything at all times, however if you're like me and you do a warding spell every once in a while and then you forget how to do it... yeah might be nice to just always have it freshly recorded so you're not rifling through all of your stuff.

7. Magical Excersizes from Books, Media, Etc.

What I Include In This Entry:

- the source I got the excersize from

- what the goal of the excersize is

- a step-by-step rundown

Why I Find this Entry Useful:

It's especially nice when you're dealing with burnout or a mental block. It's also oddly refreshing to occasionally do one.

Now, I wouldn't reccomend having every magical exercise you've ever done in your new Grimoire, but I usually pick three or four that I really like and write them down.

8. About Me Page*

What I Include In This Entry:

- Deities I mainly Venerate

- What magical "paths" or ways of life I tend to follow

- How I feel about my practice (Do I need to improve in some areas? Do I feel lost? Etc.)

- Things I want to explore more or do more

Why I Find this Entry Useful:

This is another entry I seriously regret not including more. With my first Grimoire (that I didn't lose) it served as a good spot to check in order to see my growth, look for anything I hadn't learned yet but wanted to learn, and it served as a nice sentimental peice to look back on.

Some may not benefit from having an entry like this, but others may find they'll benefit from it like I do!

9. A Basic Guide on Fae Species (or other entities depending on your practice)

What I Include in this Entry:

- I usually pick about 8-10 Fae to make an entry on and I try to keep it in a broad, diverse range.

- A picture depicting each thing

- Name of species

- Anecdotes on their temperament, how you can avoid pissing them off, etc.

Why I Find this Entry Useful:

As a Celtic Pagan it feels right for me to have an entry that includes the Fae even though I avoid interacting with them when possible. I've also generally had a sort of fixation on the Fae and their way of life since I was young so it's a little something that speaks to my heart and my passions as well.

If you want to look at this more practically, having a guide of common entities can be good in case you encounter one that way you have a sort of code of conduct written down.

10. List of Herbs I Commonly Use and their Correspondences

What I Include in this Entry:

- Household herbs I can easily find in the pantry

- items I can easily forage and use from outside

Why I Find this Entry Useful:

My first ever list of herbs was basically every Herb under the sun and how I could use it. Did I use any of those herbs? Heck no! Now I keep a small, condensed list of stuff I actually use and have easy access to and if I use anything I'm not used to that's when I reference my giant list.

Not all of these topics may personally speak to you, but I hope that at least some of them could help you decide what you'd like to include in your own books!

[sabrinajenre96]

“Episode Fifteen ~ Shift Leader Spencer” – Operation: No Grandma, No Peace

Michael Robinavitch x wife reader

Warning ⚠️: the usual.

Diana was only going to be gone for three days.

Three days.

She packed light, kissed all her grandkids, promised to FaceTime, and left with a cheerful, “Good luck, you two!” to Michael and Y/N—who stood in the driveway like soldiers watching their captain sail off to war.

---

Day 1: It Begins

By the time the clock hit 7:00 AM, Spencer had taken over the house.

In the absence of Grandma Diana’s gentle rule, the five-year-old self-appointed herself Shift Leader Robinavitch.

She posted a schedule on the fridge. Everyone got “assigned hours.”

Michael had to “wake up and report” at 0700 sharp.

Y/N’s charting time was apparently “after brushing Kojo and before pancakes.”

Alex tried to protest. Spencer handed him a clipboard. “Your opinion has been noted. Denied.”

Sawyer just muttered, “I’m going next door,” and hobbled across the lawn on her crutches to study in peace.

---

Day 2: The Night Rounds Incident

Michael and Y/N managed to sneak in a moment of privacy—finally, cuddled in bed after a long day filled with glitter bandages, leftover chicken nuggets, and Spencer’s 8-minute bedtime song medley.

Then:

knock knock

The door creaked open. Spencer walked in, hair messy, eyes wide with purpose, clipboard in hand.

“Just doing my 0300 rounds,” she whispered. “Daddy, you were late reporting vitals. Mommy, your hydration log is incomplete.”

Michael groaned. “Why do we train interns if this is our home life?”

Y/N laughed into her pillow. “Because our five-year-old runs a tighter ship than the Pitt.”

---

Day 3: The Meltdown

Alex  finally snapped when Spencer tried to assign Kojo a bed bath.

“HE’S A DOG, SPENCER!”

“HE’S A PATIENT, ALEX!”

Michael had to separate them. Y/N bribed Spencer with pancakes shaped like hearts. Kojo just sighed and went to hide under Sawyer’s desk.

Later, Spencer declared herself “too emotionally drained” to do chart reviews and retreated to her pillow fort.

---

Diana’s Return: Saving Grace

The moment Diana stepped into the house, Spencer dropped her clipboard and ran to her.

“Grandma! The house fell apart without you!”

Alex : “It really didn’t.”

Michael: “Debatable.”

Y/N: “I got charted in my own home.”

Diana hugged her granddaughter and grinned. “So… anything exciting happen while I was gone?”

Michael: “We’ve been up since 0500.”

Y/N: “I was told I failed a family skills lab.”

Diana: “Welcome to parenting a mini you.”

---

That Night

After dinner, with Diana taking over bedtime duties, Y/N collapsed on the couch and looked over at Michael.

“She really assigned me a ‘lunch and hydration compliance score.’”

Michael held up his phone. “She gave me a surgical time-out sticker.”

They both started laughing.

Then Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder and smiled.

“God, I love her.”

Michael kissed her temple. “Same. But next time your mom leaves town, we’re hiring a nurse manager.”

[lemonwisp]

Okay folks here is my honest review of season 4 of the umbrella academy (not that it matters but this is from a person who’s obsession runs so deep I started a meme page for this show, I started making edits because of this show, I found out how to label my sexuality because of this show, after season 1 I bought all the comics and then I also bought the you look like death comics when they came out, I have nearly every funko pop (rip hazel and cha cha when I get you and when I get young Ben my collection will be complete) I love this show more than words can describe)

I was expecting it to be bad, in the way that season 3 was bad, and it wasn’t bad in that way, however there was still some awful cgi (tua really shows me that shows can have wonderful and awful cgi at the same time)

I enjoyed the first episode and became hopeful when Klaus got the dog tags but then he doesn’t even put them on despite keeping them. I loved Klaus’s friendship with Claire, I liked Luther acting like a golden retriever. Blah blah blah. I liked Diego and the piñata and the fact they called their firstborn Grace was really sweet

However the continuity errors in this season really bothered me. At the end of season 3 Klaus still has the dog tags and temple tattoo, in the promotional picture Klaus has the temple tattoo, yet in the show it wasn’t there.

The plot hole of Sloane not being there (I know realistically when Allison told Reggie the timeline she wanted she was being selfish but still)

Also the thing about Lila and hating bracelets totally goes back on the fact that Diego got her one in season 2 and she wore it all the time.

THE FACT IT TOOK THEM SO LONG TO GET TO MAINE BUT WHEN PEOPLE JUST WALKED OFF THEY GOT BACK TO THEIR HOUSES AND STUFF SO FAST

The fact Ray leaving was mentioned only twice and we never got more information on that.

The fact that Klaus pulled the lovers card and Dave didn’t come back! The fact Klaus had time to try to summon Dave and just didn’t. Klaus writing STOP on their hand and then that just disappearing. Also Klaus’s PTSD just not being shown anymore.

I’m not even going to talk about the Lila and Five situation because I’m so unbelievably angry about it. I’m obviously angry about Dave not being mentioned at all.

Also I thought Klaus being a medium was clever but also then it just turned into them being used and idk I just want Klaus to be happy

Also Ben this season was funny, but I just miss brelly Ben so much.

And while they were in the subway station I was waiting for Brelly ben to show up because the scene in season 3 of Ben BEING ON A TRAIN! I was like oh that must be brelly ben, like that’s where he went after turning into swiss cheese and then they’d get him and have him face sparrow Ben or something.

And after all of the lead up to how Ben originally died and it just being that Reggie killed him. I feel like that wasn’t that big of a shock value because Reginald seems like the type to do that. I also feel like it was kind of boring. But I did appreciate the fact the young cast were in season 4

Also I’m not saying Jennifer should have died but they said only one of them needed to die and I know it’s selfish to want Ben to live and I felt bad for Jennifer it’s just I didn’t really grow attached to her

I understand why it ended the way it did but also am upset with the ending. I admit the marigolds at the end were cute, but even though I know it’s self indulgent to wish for this I just wanted them to be happy. Or even if the ending was just like a time loop and it restarted back to season 1 would have made me feel a bit more satisfied.

I don’t know, it’s just that I’ve grown up watching tua, I’ve spent five years of my life hyperfixating on this show, and it feels like the actors care about their characters and the writers do not.

However I’m so glad I got to be part of this journey with all the other TUA fans, I thank everyone who supported my meme page I have on Instagram, who makes fan art, fan fiction, and edits about the show and comics, everyone who cares about TUA, and I’m sorry that it ended the way that it did because frankly seeing the fans care more about the characters than the writers hurts. Knowing the injustices done to the characters hurts, but I’m glad I’m not alone when I say season four kinda fucking sucked.

EDIT: NOT TO EVEN MENTION IN SEASON 3 BEN KEPT DRAWING JENNIFER THEN THAT WAS NEVER MENTIONED IN SEASON 4 and CLAIRE KNEW KLAUS WAS IMMORTAL LIKE WHEN DID SHE FIND THAT OUT

[canirove]

Back in Bluebell | Chapter 2

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

“Oh, wow. This looks exactly like how I remembered it!” I say after walking into Mason's pub.

“Thank you?” he says while finishing to clean one of the tables.

“It is packed” I say, following him as he moves to another table, saying goodbye to the couple who just left. “Is there something going on today?”

“England is playing against Spain. It is a friendly, but we are playing against the current European champions, you know?”

“Oh, yes, of course. I had forgotten.”

“What?” he laughs. “You've never liked football, Emilia.”

“I went to watch you play more than once, didn't I?”

“Yes, but you went because you liked me, not the sport” he smirks.

“Whatever” I reply, looking around. “Can I get that free drink now?”

“Sure. Wait for me at the counter, I need to attend those tables over there.”

“Ok” I say, trying to make my way without bumping into any of the customers that are standing. 

“He said he would be here ages ago and still hasn't showed up” a man says when I make it to the counter.

“The pub is packed with people and it is just him, Robert. Be patient” the woman next to him says.

“I'm tired of being patient. I want my drink!”

“Robert…”

“This pub is supposed to be the best in the area, a five stars one. But so far it sucks.”

“Hi, sorry for making you wait” I say, quickly moving behind the counter and grabbing an apron I see tucked under it. “There was a little problem in the storehouse and it took me more time than I expected to fix it. What can I get you?” I say with my best smile.

“You work here?” the man says, arching an eyebrow.

“I do, yes.”

“Umm…” he says, clearly having doubts about it. “I'll have a pint.”

“And I a Shirley Temple, please” the woman smiles.

“Perfect.”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“What the fuck is she doing?”

“What?” the guy Mason was talking to says.

“Sorry, I have to… I'll be right back” he says before running towards the counter. “Emilia, what are you doing?” 

“Helping you” she says while getting some drinks ready.

“What?”

“The pub is packed, you can't attend everyone, and there was a couple about to write you a bad review. I had to do something, Mason! Do you know how important online reviews are these days?”

“I… I…” he mumbles.

“Listen, this is what we are going to do. You'll take care of the tables and I'll stay here at the counter.”

“Emilia…”

“It will work out, Mase. Don't worry. I know what I am doing.”

“Do you?” he laughs.

“Yes, I do. Look at my tips so far” she says, showing him the money she had in her pocket.

“You've earnt all that already?”

“I have” she smiles. “So, do we have a deal?”

“Ok, fine” he says after thinking about it for a few seconds. “But if you have doubts about anything…”

“I'll call you. Now go back to the table you were attending before they also threaten to write us a bad review.”

“You mean me. Before they write me a bad review.”

“Of course, of course. Now go” she says, dismissing him with a flick of her hand.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“I've finished cleaning all the tables, Mason. What else can I do?”

“Silence, please” he says, lifting his index finger while counting all the money we've made today. “Bloody hell, dove.”

“Is that a good or a bad bloody hell?” I ask, sitting on the stool next to him.

“A really good one” Mason says. “Football nights usually are the best ones, but today we've doubled what I usually make and I haven't counted your tips yet.”

“Then you're welcome, Mount” I smile. 

“Yeah” he chuckles. “When did you learn to serve drinks like that?”

“I worked as a bartender during my first years of uni.”

“Really?”

“Yep” I nod. “I needed the extra money. And right now, I could also do with a job.”

“What?”

“Let me help you with the pub, Mason.”

“Hell no.”

“What? Why not? We clearly work well together. Look at all that money!”

“Emilia, just because tonight things have been good, it doesn't mean they will always be.”

“Maybe they will. You don't know that.”

“Dean will never agree to this. Why don't you work with him at the garage if you are so bored?”

“First of all, I'm not bored. If I want to work it is because I hate feeling like I'm wasting my time doing nothing when I could be helping someone. You know me, I can't stay still.”

“True” Mason chuckles.

“And yesterday I tried helping Dean at the garage and it was a disaster. I used a blue pen instead of a black one on some papers, and he almost killed me.”

“Sounds like him” he chuckles again. “But this… This is hard work, Emilia. Especially during the summer.”

“I know, Mason. I may not have lived in Bluebell for years, but I know how busy it gets with all the tourists and events the town organises. But if I survived having night shifts and going to my classes in the morning, all while studying and having time to hang out with my friends, I can do this. Besides, you owe me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I gave you my virginity, Mason. Now it's time for you to give me something in return” I smirk.

“Emilia, you… you…” he mumbles, his cheeks turning bright red.

“C'mon, say yes to this. C'mon, c'mon, c'mon” I pout. “I promise I will do everything you say. I will be the perfect waitress. I'll be so good, that by the end of the summer you'll have to put my photo on the wall with “best employee ever” written underneath it. Please.”

“Ok, fine” Mason sighs.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, it is a yes. You are hired. But” he says, stopping me as I am about to throw myself at him and hug him. “We have to talk with Dean first.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I want to know what he thinks about it, if he is ok with you spending your days here with me.”

“Mason, we live in the 21st century. I don't need my brother's permission to do anything.”

“I know. But he also is one of my closest friends, and I don't want him getting mad with me. Or with you. Or with both of us.”

“Fine, we'll talk with him tomorrow morning. Is that ok with you, boss?”

“Please stick to my name.”

“Don't you like being called boss? Being the one in charge?” I ask him with a teasing smile.

“Don't do that, Emilia.”

“Do what?” 

“Tease me like that. If you want this job, the insinuations and double meanings have to stay outside the pub.”

“I wasn't insinuating anything.”

“Emilia…” Mason sighs, his cheeks still bright red. “Do you seriously want this job?”

“I do.”

“Then keep your promise about being the best waitress ever and behave yourself.”

“I will. Pinky promise?” I say, lifting my little finger.

“You seriously haven't changed a bit, have you?” he says, trying his best to not smile but being betrayed by his dimple.

“I mean, I definitely look hotter than when I left, but no, I haven't” I shrug. “Now, finger.”

“What?”

“Your little finger, Mason. We have to seal our deal.”

“Ok, yes, of course” he says, linking his finger with mine.

“What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you blushing? Again?”

“Emilia, you just promised me you weren't going to tease me. Again.”

“But our fingers are still together, which means that the deal hasn't been completed yet.”

“Now it has” he says, letting go. “You must behave yourself, dove.”

“Yes, captain. My captain” I say as I stand up, giving Mason a military salute and making him laugh. 

“I'm gonna put all this money in the safe and then I'll come back to help you clean the floor, ok?”

“Ok” I nod, feeling myself smiling like an idiot as he walks away, the sound of his laugh stuck in my head.

I had missed it so much. 

[liviz223]

Jewish Film Festival Roundup 2025

In my goal to participate more in the Jewish community in general, I went to see 3 of the 4 films playing at this year's Jewish Film Festival and hung around the area by the theatre. I would've seen the fourth (Sabbath Queen) but it is a) a Sunday and I have work tomorrow and b) I do not think I've been able to stay up that long. They gave us little rating cards to vote on how good the movie was out of 4 (fold a corner down with the number you think it is).

The overall atmosphere was nice. The first showing of the day was at 1:00 pm, and the theatre wasn't packed at all. That tends to be the case for this festival. The general attendees are senior citizens so for the most part that's who I was vibing with. The final showing was SOLD OUT. The theatre was packed (more on that later).

I will say I'm low-key surprised at how many actors I spotted who were in The Good Wife and/or The Good Fight.

I'll give my rating and thoughts and then link to each trailer and IMDb page for more info below. Some reviews contain spoilers. I hope to add to this in the reblogs for every one I see.

Film 1: Between the Temples (2024) 1:00 pm.

Cast - Jason Schwartzman, Carol Kane, Caroline Aaron

Rating - 2.75/4 (folded down the 2 on the card cause you can't do fractions).

I thought this film was interesting and enjoyed it overall, but the style and cinematography just wasn't for me. It was very artsy (fade ins, interesting cuts and closeups). There were shots of people's faces zoomed in that just didn't make sense to me. There were a few funny moments and visual gags that were pretty good but overall it was weird. I spent most of the time trying to figure out what was going on with the cinematography. The running gag of the basement door not working was good though and I thought the Rabbi was also really funny.

Film 2: Guns & Moses (2024) 4:00 pm

Cast - Mark Feuerstein, Alona Tal, Neal McDonough, Christopher Lloyd

Rating - 4/4

I loved this one. Loved. It. It's an action thriller about an orthodox Rabbi independently investigating an attack on his community on his own when he has a hunch the white supremacist they arrested is innocent, arming himself for self-defense in the process. It's got a lot of action and the twists are so good. They set you up to think it could be one person, then turns out it isn't. Multiple times. And in my opinion it was a good escape from the world at the moment for me. It's got a release date for theatres July 18th! I would 100% see it again. I did have a slight issue with all the flashbacks to conversation linking stuff together, but it's fast paced, and interesting, and has a good balance of conversation and action, making that a minor pet peeve. This one had a Q&A with the writers and director, which was super nice, and in which I learned: It's a low budget film that was shot in 20 days, having most of the action shot first, and Christopher Lloyd was cast because they sent it to his agent and he liked the script and they'd gone to every older Jewish actor but none of them wanted the role. He liked it so much he got himself a Yiddish dialect coach (and it's a minor role).

Film 3: Bad Shabbos (2024) 6:30 pm

Cast - Milana Vayntrub, Kyra Sedgwick, David Paymer, Jon Bass, Meghan Leathers, Method Man, Theo Taplitz

Rating - 4/4

Another good one that is perfect for escapism. This showing had the theatre PACKED. For the other showings the theatre was sparse, but for this one it was a FULL HOUSE. It's a hilarious situational comedy about a family having to cover up an accidental death during Shabbos dinner, as they're meeting their son's convert-in-progress fiancee's parents. The whole theatre was cracking up during the whole movie. It was nearly non-stop laughter, and there was a good mix of comedy types. I would've liked subtitles to be present as it was easy to miss stuff during all the laughter. I absolutely loved Method Man and David Paymer's characters in this. They were absolutely wonderful. This is another one that I would 100% see again. It doesn't drag and it's streaming on Hulu.

[bigbadbatch]

Reputations-Fives x Reader: Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Delicate

A few days have passed since that night at 79’s, and things have… shifted.

You haven’t heard a word from Rylan. Not a message, not a ping.

But Fives?

 Fives has been a presence.

The flirting is still “harmless”, technically, but there’s an edge to it now. A hum beneath every word, every glance. Like you’re both waiting for the other to crack first.

During a holotape review two days ago, he leaned over to make some joke about your reaction time and his hand brushed yours. He didn’t pull away. Neither did you.

And now, when he’s late to meetings, which is often, he brings caf. Your order, specifically. No need to ask anymore.

Today, the 501st is running the new drills you designed; speeders, simulated enemy fire, terrain mapping. It’s all in prep for what’s becoming more common in the field: high-speed infiltration, urban extractions, fast exits on vehicles most clones weren’t trained on.

These aren’t the military-grade models, either. They’re repurposed civilian speeders: sleek, temperamental, and dangerous, the kind usually ridden by people in leather jackets and questionable life choices.

And Fives is tearing the track apart.

He’s on his third lap, well ahead of his brothers, crouched low over the controls like the thing’s an extension of him. He leans into the turns with reckless grace, kicking up dust and laughter in his wake.

You watch, entranced, and not just because it’s your job.

There’s something magnetic about it. About him. The thrill in his smile. The way he moves like he knows you’re watching, and doesn’t mind one bit.

The speeder drills wind down in a blur of heat, sweat, and dust. You’re still logging time reports when a familiar voice cuts through the din.

“Hey, Trouble,” Fives says, grinning as he walks up. “Wanna grab lunch with us? I hear the mess is actually good today. Miracles happen.”

You look up, shielding your eyes against the sun, and smile.

“Yeah. I’ll meet you there.”

The mess is chaos; loud with overlapping conversations, bootsteps, and the clatter of trays. At least three battalions are cycling through Coruscant rotation, and it shows.

You navigate the crowd carefully, tray in hand, eyes scanning until you spot him, the cut of his shoulders, the glint of his temple tattoo.

“Hey!” Fives calls, spotting you first. He waves you over with enthusiasm.

You weave through the room until you reach the table, already full of troopers. Just as you hesitate, Fives leans to the clone beside him and shoves his shoulder. Not hard, but not subtle either.

“Scoot. No hard feelings,” he adds with a grin as the trooper groans and makes room. “It’s for a good cause.”

You slide into the now-vacant seat. Fives shifts to give you space, but not too much.

The table’s alive with banter. With Hardcase and Echo bickering over strategy, Jesse inhaling his food like it’s a race. You laugh, the kind that bubbles up before you can stop it, and realize this is what you like most: when simulations and briefings open up to the whole battalion. You get to know them. The real them.

Fives nudges your shoulder with his own.

“What are you up to tonight?” he asks, casual. 

You glance at him, caught off guard by how soft his voice is beneath the noise. You bite your lip, pretending to think.

“Nothing. Why?”

His grin could power a starfighter.

“Meet me here at 2200. It’s work-related,” he adds quickly, eyes dancing. “Promise.”

You try not to show your flicker of disappointment.

“Oh. Sure. Yeah. See you then.”

He looks at you a second longer than necessary like he knows what you thought and isn’t correcting it on purpose. Then he turns back to the others, letting the moment rest.

But the grin never quite leaves his face.

—-

The evening air is warm, and Coruscant sparkles beneath the heavy violet sky. As you walk back toward HQ, you adjust your uniform, heart ticking just a little faster than usual.

What could Fives possibly mean by “work-related”?

He's already waiting at the entrance, full kit, minus the helmet, leaning against one of several speeders lined up at the curb. He stands out easily, like always. Like he knows he does.

When he spots you, his smile stretches wide.

“Hey, mesh’— I mean... Trouble.”

You blink, startled. That was almost a Mandalorian endearment. He covers it quickly, but you don’t miss the flicker of heat in his eyes.

Before you can ask, the doors behind him swing open. More troopers spill out, some in armor, others in undersuits, all laughing and mounting speeders like this is just another night.

“What’s going on?” you ask, watching as engines begin to hum.

Fives pushes off his speeder and steps toward you, confidence in every stride.

“Friendly race,” he says. “Got approval for ‘extra practice.’ Thought after watching us today, maybe you’d want to try one out.”

Your mouth drops open.

“You mean drive one of these?”

You eye the line of sleek, powerful machines.

“No way.”

Fives just grins wider.

“Don’t worry. I’ll drive. You just hold on tight.”

Your heart does a little lurch; part nerves, part something much more dangerous. Your thoughts flicker to Rylan. Or rather, the absence of him. Weeks of silence. Distance. Excuses.

But Fives? He’s here. Smiling like you’re the only thing he sees.

You swallow the hesitation and smile back.

“Let’s go.”

“That’s my girl,” he cheers, swinging a leg over his speeder and patting the seat behind him.

You climb on carefully, settling in until you’re pressed right up against him. The engine roars to life, and the speeder jolts forward just enough that your arms fly around his waist on instinct.

Fives laughs, deep and unbothered.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. Promise.”

The speeders around you rev, riders bantering back and forth, engines whining like caged animals. Fives glances over his shoulder, playful.

“Want to make this interesting?”

You raise a brow.

“I’d say it’s already interesting.”

He shakes his head, chuckling.

“You scream, I win.” he says.

“What do you get if you win?” you reply.

He ponders for a moment. “You owe me a secret. Something good.”

You smirk.

“And if I win?”

Fives throws you a grin that’s nothing short of electric.

“You get to ask me anything. I’ll even answer honestly, rare opportunity.”

You tighten your grip, press closer, and whisper near his ear.

“Deal.”

A clone stands in the middle of the road with a red stretch of fabric. He raises it, then sends it to the pavement.

The roar of engines drowns out everything else as the speeders shoot forward like blaster bolts. The wind whips your hair, your eyes sting, and the city blurs into streaks of neon and durasteel. Fives leans into the turns like he was born to do this; one hand steady on the controls, the other gripping the throttle, guiding the machine with terrifying ease.

He doesn’t slow for corners. He dares them.

“Still with me, Trouble?” he calls over the roar of wind.

You can’t answer. You’re too focused on the sheer rush; lights flashing past, buildings towering above, the faint thrill of danger buzzing in your bloodstream.

Another sharp turn, too sharp. You suck in a breath as Fives jerks the speeder sideways to avoid a transport skimming low across the next level. The speeder drops fast, nearly scraping the edge of a walkway and instinct takes over.

You scream.

It tears out of you before you can stop it, half terror, half pure exhilaration and Fives laughs, full-bodied and delighted.

“That’s one for me!”

You’re laughing too now, breathless and high off the adrenaline.

“I can’t stand you,” you shout over the engine.

“You wish that was true!”

The rest of the course blurs by in a fever dream of speed and neon until finally, finally, the speeder banks around the last checkpoint, slowing as you hit the return path toward HQ.

Your heart is still hammering in your chest, your arms still tight around his waist.

Back at the base, troopers are pulling in from all directions, parking speeders and hooting at each other, comparing near-misses and mock victories. Fives pulls into the lineup with an easy stop, letting the engine whine down before swinging his leg off.

He turns to you, grinning like he just won a championship.

“So,” he says, voice low. “Where’s my prize?”

You hop off, still a little dizzy, the world spinning a touch slower now. Your cheeks are warm from windburn and something else entirely.

“You cheated,” you say. “That wasn’t fair.”

“Hey, I said scream, you screamed. A deal’s a deal.”

He’s still watching you, that grin faltering just slightly. Like maybe, just maybe, he’s wondering if he pushed too far.

You step closer, bump his shoulder with yours, and smirk.

“Fine. You win.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, a little breathless now himself.

“I’ll tell you something,” you say. “But it’s not a secret.”

“Oh?” he raises a brow.

You lean in just enough for only him to hear.

“I haven’t had that much fun in weeks.”

The grin returns, slower this time, warmer.

“Yeah,” he says with a grin. “Me neither. Need a lift home? We’ve still got the speeders for a few hours.”

Your cheeks flush warm. “Yeah. And I won’t scream this time.” Fives raises an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?” You throw your head back and laugh. “Sure! What’s the prize this time?” He chuckles, thinking for a moment. “Let me mull it over. Hop on.”

The city lights of Coruscant smear into streaks as Fives revs the speeder, weaving effortlessly through the night traffic. Your arms wrap again around his waist, the heat from his armor grounding you even as your heart races faster than the engine’s roar.

“Hold on tighter,” Fives says, flashing a mischievous grin over his shoulder.

You press your chest closer to his back, fingers digging lightly into the armored vest. The wind tugs at loose strands of hair, but you barely notice—caught in the wild thrill of speed and the steady strength beneath your hands.

Suddenly, he jerks the speeder sharply left, narrowly missing a hovering cargo freighter crossing your path.

You gasp, heart leaping into your throat.\

“You’re insane.” you laugh breathlessly.

“Only for you, Trouble.”

Then, without warning, the speeder veers dangerously close to a merchant’s cart parked on the street corner. The cart’s crates teeter precariously, nearly spilling into the path.

Your breath catches and you scream, sharp and sudden, a burst of pure adrenaline.

Fives laughs, eyes gleaming with excitement. “See? I knew you’d scream again.”

He pushes the speeder harder, racing down a narrow alley between towering buildings. Sparks fly as the vehicle scrapes dangerously close past exposed piping and flashing holo-ads.

You cling tighter, breath hitching as the speeder jolts over a broken section of road. Your pulse drums in your ears. “You’re going to kill me one of these days,” you say, half-laughing, half-serious.

“I hope it’s a memorable death.”

Adrenaline blurs your senses until the world narrows to the warmth of his body in front of you, the wind still buzzing in your ears, the scent of his armor mixed with city smoke and ozone.

The speeder bursts out of the alley and onto a quiet overlook, Coruscant unfolding beneath you in endless lights and motion. Fives cuts the engine and spins to face you. The look on both of your faces makes laughter erupt; uncontrolled, breathless.

“Did you see that merchant’s face?!” he gasps, half-doubled over in the seat.

“His life flashed before his eyes!” you wheeze, your hands gripping his chestplate as you laugh.

Fives eyes are alight with exhilaration. “ And you screamed, loud. I definitely win.”

“Shut up!” you laugh, swatting at his shoulder.

But you’re still laughing. So is he. Your face is too close to his. The thrill of the ride is still humming through your veins, dizzying and loud. Your eyes lock, wild with leftover energy.

And then, in a blink, it happens.

You both lean in at the same time—no plan, no thought. His mouth collides with yours mid-laugh, and the contact is messy, warm, and electric. A shared breath, a tangle of laughter and lips. A kiss not meant to happen, but too alive to stop.

It only lasts a second. Maybe two.

You pull back first, heart thudding, eyes wide. Fives looks just as stunned, blinking like he’s coming down from orbit.

“Guess that’s my prize, huh?” he says, trying for a grin, but his voice is quiet, uncertain beneath the humor.

You manage a breathless laugh, not sure what to say. The moment stretches, awkward and electric.

“I didn’t mean to….” he starts.

“I know,” you say quickly. “Me neither.”

The air shifts. You both sober, the weight of what just happened settling in like a heavy silence.

A flicker of guilt crosses your mind. This wasn’t supposed to be anything, just a fun ride. Nothing more.

Fives shifts, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Maybe... we should figure out what this means before we mess things up.”

You nod slowly, heart pounding in a new, complicated rhythm. “Yeah. Maybe.”

For a long moment, you sit there in quiet, the city lights casting soft shadows over two people suddenly caught between friendship and something more.

Fives eases the speeder back onto the street, the hum of the engine a soft background to the sudden quiet between you. Neither of you speaks, both lost in the swirl of what just happened.

The city blurs past again, but now the thrill of speed has given way to a quieter kind of anticipation. Your hands still rest lightly on his waist, fingers tracing absent patterns as the streetlights pass overhead.

When the speeder pulls up outside your quarters, the moment feels heavier than it should. The familiar glow of the doorway is soft and warm, inviting and terrifying all at once.

Fives kills the engine and hops up, offering you his hand to help you up. 

In the silence he squeezes your hand three times, calming and comforting before dropping your hand.

“Well… here we are.”

You swallow, heart pounding louder than the city outside.

“Yeah. Here we are.”

He reaches out, fingers brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear again—gentle, careful. The touch sends a shiver down your spine.

Neither of you moves closer, but neither steps away.

“I don’t want this to ruin what we have,” Fives says quietly. “Especially with... you know, Rylan. I didn’t mean to complicate things.”

You nod, appreciating his honesty.

A pause hangs between you..

Finally, Fives nods, stepping back just enough to give you space. “Get inside safe, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You smile, a mixture of nerves and warmth flooding your chest. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

You flop onto your bed, the cool sheets a sharp contrast to the heat still burning in your cheeks. Your mind races, tangled in a mess of thoughts you aren’t ready to sort out.

That kiss, the sudden, electric press of his lips against yours, still lingers, fierce and surprising like a spark ignited inside you. It shouldn’t have happened. You weren’t supposed to cross that line. Not like this.

And then the guilt sinks in, heavy and twisting in your stomach. Rylan. You haven’t heard from him in weeks. Not a word. Yet somehow, just thinking about him makes the thrill of the kiss feel complicated; like you betrayed a promise you weren’t even sure was still valid.

But Fives… Maker, you like him. More than you expected. More than you probably should admit. There’s something about the way he looks at you, a mix of warmth and mischief, that makes you feel seen, really seen, in a way no one else has.

Your heart pounds unevenly at the thought of him, his laugh echoing in your mind like a ghost. And despite the confusion, despite the guilt, there’s a hope you’re not ready to say out loud.

Maybe this is something new. Something worth risking.

But for now, all you can do is lie here, tangled in your sheets and your thoughts, wondering how you’ll face tomorrow.

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

Chapter 1: Gorgeous

Thanks for reading! If interested in joining a taglist, please comment! Be sure you're following me so you get notified! The next chapter may contain spice!

Chapter 3: I Did Something Bad

[iinryer]

scene prompt game!! #2 (running fingers thru hair) and 🙄🌇☕️

a little scene prompt game to get me writing!

[🙄🌇☕️ + 2: running fingers thru hair]

—

“Do I even want to know?”

Marjan watches in amusement as Nancy startles at her voice, popping upright from where she’d been sitting alone in the station kitchen with her forehead pressed to the countertop.

Her plan had been to grab her leftover smoothie from the fridge, but seeing Nancy’s disgruntled face has Marjan making a detour to the espresso machine. Nancy settles again, slouching on her stool.

“Ugh,” she groans, leaning forward again to rub at her face, “the fucking gum call is haunting me,”

Marjan barks out a laugh as the machine heats up, “What, are you having bubblegum-pink nightmares or something? Is that why you’re up so early?”

Nancy just groans again, folding down to put her forehead back on the counter, voice slightly muffled when she says, “I wish it was nightmares,”

“I don’t know what that means, Nance,” Marjan snorts, pulling a mug out of the clean dish rack.

Nancy heaves a dramatic sigh before she reaches to the back of her head and separates out a section to lift, and says, pitifully, “It’s still there,”

All at once, Marjan understands.

She grimaces, “Oh shit, dude. Gross,”

A laugh bubbles out of Nancy

“Thanks,” she says flatly, then heaves herself back upright, a pathetic look on her face to add, “Why couldn’t she have waited like, two more seconds to cough it up. At least until I was out of range,”

“Maybe TK’s next performance review will read ‘much too good at the Heimlich, needs less work’,” Marjan says, splaying her hand out theatrically in the air between them.

“Don’t give me ideas,” Nancy says, widening her eyes emphatically.

Marjan just snorts again as she turns back to the fridge to grab some creamer—and her smoothie—after pulling a shot of espresso, “I thought you got it all out after you showered last night,”

Nancy heaves a huge sigh, resting her chin in her hand, “Me too, but there’s still something suck by the roots, it’s driving me nuts, and now my arms are tired,”

Setting the finished coffee in front of a pouting Nancy, and taking her own seat on the stool next to her, Marjan takes a sip from her smoothie straw, raises her eyebrows pointedly, and says, “Do you want help,”

After a few more dramatic platitudes, they end up in the lounge with the morning news on low volume, Marjan on the sofa, and Nancy seated on the floor, sipping her fancy coffee and leaning against Marjan’s cross-legged shins.

It’s strangely liminal, the station when no one is awake yet. Being settled like this makes it feel like they shouldn’t break the peace they’ve created.

So Marjan busies herself, taking the offending strands from Nancy’s fingers and very gently, very meticulously, begins working the remaining tacky remnants from her roots.

Her hair smells like citrus. And warmth.

The suddenness and unexpected affection of the thought makes Marjan blush.

She clears her throat and continues her task.

Over the few quiet minutes that follow, Nancy begins to relax back into her more and more, head tilting, shoulders slouching, the warmth of her back seeping through Marjan’s work pants. She can feel the reverberations of Nancy’s pleased hum against her shins when she runs her fingers across her scalp to check for anything she missed.

Marjan’s throat clicks when she swallows. She runs her fingers through the hair from Nancy’s temple to the nape of her neck, just to detangle it, she tells herself. And then she does it again, just to be sure. By the time she’s doing it a third time, Marjan is running out of excuses to tell herself. Her ears are burning.

Nancy lets out another little hum.

Marjan feels like her chest is heaving.

She gently draws the strands of hair at Nancy’s temples back with her fingertips, and tucks it behind her ears.

“Hey,” Nancy’s sleepy voice startles her hands away so suddenly, Marjan almost feels like she’s been electrocuted. Her heart is pounding with embarrassment? Maybe guilt? But before she can spiral about crossing lines or being weird, Nancy is continuing, “you think you could do a braid? Just since you’re back there?”

“Yeah—uh, yeah, absolutely,” Marjan replies quickly, willing her voice back to her regular tenor, clearing her throat, “just a regular French braid?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Nancy says, lifting her hand to pass a hair tie pinched between two fingers over her shoulder to Marjan.

“No problem,” Marjan murmurs—heart still pounding in her ears—before gently gathering Nancy’s hair again to start separating it into sections.

[now also on ao3!]

[snowlessknitter]

“Please, Blanche! Sidney Sheldon tells shorter stories!”

— Dorothy Zbornak, “Blanche and the Younger Man”

Time for another edition of “Snowlessknitter Explains the Golden Girls Joke”!

After we recently got back Disney+ (thanks to our cable company; we previously had it for a couple of months around the beginning of 2020, but got rid of it when the pandemic forced my dad to take a temporary pay cut at his job), I’ve been rewatching The Golden Girls on there from the beginning (it’s technically on Hulu, but I think our subscription is a Disney+/Hulu bundle which allows you to watch Hulu shows on Disney+ without having to switch apps). Anyway, the streaming version of the show restores jokes and scenes that were otherwise cut from the syndicated version of the show. So anyway, I came across this particular joke for the first time and I decided to look into who Sidney Sheldon was.

Sidney Sheldon was born Sidney Schectel on 11 February 1917 in Chicago. The son of Ukrainian Jewish parents, Sheldon showed a talent for writing from an early age. He sold his first poem at the age of 10, earning $5 for his work. (According to an inflation calculator, $5 in 1927 has the same purchasing power as $90.60 today. Not a bad sum for the time!) He worked a variety of jobs during the Great Depression, and although he was able to enroll in college on a scholarship, he ended up having to drop out after six months in order to support his family. He ended up moving to Hollywood in 1937 to work as a script reviewer and screenwriter. He later enlisted in the Army Air Corps (the predecessor to what is now the United States Air Force) during World War II, but was medically discharged due to a back injury before he would have been deployed.

During his time as a screenwriter, Sheldon also began writing Broadway productions. He primarily wrote for musical theater, but he also wrote several plays, and he eventually developed a reputation of being one of Broadway’s most prolific writers. This reputation allowed him to return to Hollywood, where he won an Oscar for Best Original Screenplay in 1948 for writing The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer (a screwball comedy starring Cary Grant as the “Bachelor”, Shirley Temple as the “Bobby-Soxer” who develops a crush on the older “Bachelor”, and Myrna Loy as the sister and guardian of Shirley Temple’s character). He additionally won a Tony Award in 1959 for writing the book (musical theater term for “script”) to the musical Redhead. Sheldon’s career in writing for the stage and screen also included many films and television shows, including writing scripts for The Patty Duke Show, I Dream of Jeannie, and later on Hart to Hart.

What makes Sidney Sheldon appear in this series, though, is his career as a novelist. He published his first novel, The Naked Face, in 1970. He primarily wrote in the mystery and thriller genres, and he gained a largely female fan following in part due to the somewhat steamy nature of his novels, as well as his use of primarily female protagonists. He was often regarded as a “potboiler” (or someone who wrote primarily to make money rather than for the sake of art), but regardless he would have been quite well known during the time of The Golden Girls’ run. (This wasn’t the only joke on the show mentioning Sidney Sheldon, by the way. There’s another mention of him in Season 2 — I think the episode where Rose, Dorothy, and Blanche go on a disastrous Caribbean vacation — where Rose admits to reading Blanche’s diary and says she got 20 pages in before she realized it wasn’t a Sidney Sheldon novel.) In his lifetime, Sheldon wrote 18 novels that sold a total of over 300 million copies.

Sidney Sheldon died in Rancho Mirage, California from pneumonia on 30 January 2007 at the age of 89, just 12 days before he would have turned 90. Married three times, he was survived by at least one child (a daughter, Mary Sheldon, who is an author in her own right). After his death, his estate authorized British author Tilly Bagshawe to write sequels to some of his novels as well as novels inspired by his writing style and her works usually carry the Sidney Sheldon’s tag in the title.

[stonegearstudios]

Impressions: Awaiting the Burning Gods

So that I don't say it over and over, the art in this module is all fantastic, only gonna share this piece, go buy it to see it all, and the artist is @codexnoirmatic !

Got my PDF of Awaiting the Burning Gods by Magnum Galaxy Games the other day and read it last night, here are some thoughts on the Mothership adventure. Not a review since I haven't gotten to actually run/play it yet

I really want to run it, seems like a fun 3-4 nights

The ticking clock seems like it might be to fast, I see that it's supposed to make the players choose what to do, privatize, but I do wonder, it would be not that hard for a group to completely run it out before making it to the tomb, let alone once inside it. GM fiat and all yes, but the book writes the sandstorm as a very final thing, get caught in this and you will never return. Something to think about at least.

I'd really like to give the players more time to absorb the strange, fractal abandoned city, before anything too weird happens. Maybe start with the A team not yet missing but hogging the best site, resigning the B team to the city?

The timeline and planetary overview are just... great to look at, wish they'd release an art pack.

Given this is supposed to be a fairly quick adventure, the rapid fire NPCs with a single line of characterization works.

The... flavour around SMOKING DARKNESS RECLAMATIONS is very good, I'd def want to make good use of them, don't want to spoil it.

Mentioned the art already but I really like the 3d maps that evoke simple wireframe graphics, fits the genre. Very clear and easy to read as well. One issue not exclusive to this module is that when there's maps I always want unmarked ones I can use as PC facing material.

The Vaults are where things get real, and my main argument that the timeline needs to be drawn out, I'd say to at least two days. There's just so much to go through and it feels like a disservice (not to mention kinda impossible) to rush too fast through. Still want to keep some pressure though.

One thing I haven't mentioned is how the encounter tables are laid out. Odd numbers are portents, "Frantic footsteps and heavy breathing" etc, while even is actual encounter encounters, and if you roll a odd twice, you go down one. I think this is a good way to lay them out for the gm and to build tension.

The Seneschal are a great idea for a machine race, both visually and in their motivations, and how those have evolved. A very nice 1-2 gotcha for players.

I often find modern references a bit much in Adventures, but I think the Warning Memorial in the Lower Vault works it

Kinda wish there was a up close pic of the Assemblage, would have been nice.

The Phoenix Temple is pretty cool as an encounter. I feel like the obvious route would have been to make it cause stress, so it healing it (all be it with some risk still) is a neat turn.

The Creche feels like a shout out to Metropolis, maybe not, but it's certainly the first place my mind went.

There's plenty more to say, especially if I eventually run it, but yeah. Like I said, not a review, more of a stream of consciousness thing.

[contentloadingandstuff]

Quick 28 Years Later Review

Watched it just today and I have many mixed feelings. Read if you're interested.

First of all, I doubt anything I say could be considered a spoiler since the plot is predictable as hell, but I'll avoid it anyway. Spoilers will be marked with numbers that are referenced below the cut.

Initial note: Boyle, the director of the 28 franchise, wants to make 28 years a trilogy, the second movie allegedly having the subtitle "Temple of Bones" and coming in January of 2026. As such, some criticism of plot and world building here might be remedied by the sequels, which I hope happens.

Visuals: Great. It's not the same as the destroyed London from the previous installments, but setting the movie in the wilderness of Scotland makes for a lot of nice scenery. The desaturation from the previous installments is gone, letting us see the Highlands in their full glory. In terms of blood there's not that much, but what is very common is nudity. No, the infected running around naked was not just a trailer thing. Prepare to see infected schlongs, breasts and pubes on multiple occasions. Overall, the set pieces are great and the visuals are nice. 8/10

*Gore: This is something of this move's weak spot. Previous entries were not the Terrifier by any means, but were still filled with infected projectile vomiting blood, choppers turning them into fine red mist and rabid violence. This time we don't see much in terms of blood and dismemberment. We do see very many bones, however. On top of these we have two very disgusting scenes, one of which is very needless. Check below the cut for details (1).

Soundtrack: Music in the previous titles was not very noticeable, being completely gone or totally inoffensive through most of the prequels - aside, of course, from our beloved "In The House - In a Heartbeat" by John Murphy. It's absent in this movie, to which I'll get on in a moment. Aside from that we have more music tracks including... (2). The ending has a rock version of this song. A rating of 6/10 does it justice I think.

Writing: It's good, nothing to note here. The dialogues are natural and flow smoothly with no exposition dumps, but not much in terms of memorable phrases. Scottish accents in this movie are great, and the Swedish accent is nice too. Some dialogues are interesting too - (3). Overall, 9/10.

Characters: Our cast is neither very large nor very memorable. The protagonist is Spike, a 12 year old boy born sixteen years after initial infection in a small settlement on an island, connected to the mainland by a land bridge traversable only during low tide. We spend the initial hour or so with his dad, and the rest of the movie with his sick mother. Aside from them we have two episodic characters. They generally aren't annoying, immensely stupid (beyond what is expected of a 12 year old) or insufferable. One of the episodic characters is an asshole though. However, there is a noticeable lack of characterisation for any of them. For that, the rating of 5/10 is sufficient - none of them will stick like Jim or, more likely, Don.

Plot: The plot is very basic. Young lad has an ill mother, learns there is a way to help her and goes to obtain it. Let's not kid ourselves, plots in the previous installments were simply excuses for zombie action and not much else. This one sets out to do more but fails to make us identify with the character enough to give the desired effect - briefly, it falls flat. The only interesting characters are chained by what the movie sets out to achieve. I feel it skips lastthe most important and interesting scenes (4). Overall, 6/10 - most are boring or simply non-entities, but the protagonist being a young boy makes it more interesting - all of us would like to see how a post-zombie generation lives, too bad the movie dismisses it into the background.

Horror: The scaring methods are the same - jumpscares, but with the tension of ever present infected gone and with the ease they are dispatched, it degrades noticeably. In comparison to the previous movies, there are so much less of them overall. I don't recall there being more than ten zombies at the same time on the screen. Were statists this expensive? Or were this many people unwilling to run around naked and muddy on the screen? Perhaps it's to be dismissed with it being 28 years later and there not being many left, but honestly, with how easy they are killed with a bow, they all should be biting the dust long ago. In terms of terrifying slaughter scenes this franchise is known for (scenes involving infections of many people), there is only one that is indeed quite misleading in terms of this movie's tone - (5). Overall, 7/10. We lost a good atmosphere, but it still can be scary.

Zombies: This is what everybody came here for, right? The rage infected, throwing up blood everywhere they go, speedy like demons and violently mauling their victims. Not so much, sadly. The infected in the intro sequences are our old same old, but later infected are more like Darkseekers from "I Am Legend" with Will Smith. They have rudimentary pack dynamics and a leader, but open spaces make them much less threatening. They don't really vomit blood anymore. Why? Can't tell. It makes them much less infectious. We see two variants of them - big Alpha and fatty crawlers. We know the former is made up because "the virus works on some of them like steroids", but we are not told why the crawlers are fat. And why are any of these zombies still alive, for that matter. A big part of the previous movies was how the mortality of rage infected was made clear. Between those movies, as we are told, they starved to death (which is why the second movie happens in the first place). But here, a total of 27 years after the virus release, we have them running around - totally naked. In short, here is why they would die: profuse bleeding, physical exhaustion, nerve damage from constant rage, lack of water, parasites, hypothermia, illnesses from cross contamination, malnourishment, desentery. It sucks that the zombies lost their unique nick of realism that brought attention to the franchise, alongside them being fast. There's also an appalling moment of - (6). And a (7). Also, they seem slower now - they are unable to chase down a 12 year old boy and his sickness ridden mother. Heavy disappointment on my part. I'm a big fan of zombie media and rage zombies were amongst my favourites, shame to see them being mishandled. 4/10.

Total score, my opinion of course:

8/10 for casual audiences. If you're looking for something to take your other half to for a spooky watch, go ahead. You won't be bothered by anything safe for flat characters and a bit of a boring plot, which is covered up by the great setting of this movie.

6.5/10 for a casual zombie fan. This movie nerfs the terror of rage zombies and focuses more on one character's family drama than pure survival or reconstruction. The zombies are a threat still, but they do not appear (directly or indirectly) as often as before.

5/10 for a more particular zombie enjoyer. It's not the same movie, the dark, gritty atmosphere is nowhere to be found. The zombies went from the driving force behind the plot to background players at best. I feel a comparison to The Last of Us zombie treatment is precise - they are rare, but threatening. Which is not how rage zombies were before.

Spoilers below.

1. An infected crawler eating an earthworm and an infected woman giving birth in a train car.

2. The Tellytubies song.

3. The most interesting interaction between Spike and Erik (a Swedish soldier stranded in Britain) is when the latter tells him why he became a soldier and Spike does not understand most of his references to things like smartphones, the internet, deliveries and the like.

4. There is no more than brief exploration of post-virus society. Neither the world nor the island community is explored. We only know Great Britain was indefinitely quarantined, but... Like, why? If anything, it's the safest infected place in the world as most zombies would already have died out. By the way, Europe was allegedly cleansed of the infected. Sure... If that is true, then Erik should be a proficient and well trained exterminator.

5. In the intro sequence, a room full of children is massacred by the infected, leaving only one survivor.

6. In the childbirth scene, the mother reaches out her hands to the infected woman and they put their palms against each other, with her grabbing the mother's hand for support as she gives birth. What in the absolute girls-power women's-bond shit is this, Danny?

7. An uninfected baby from an infected woman. It should be the key to a cure for the rage virus as it likely inherited a suppressed version of the virus or contains antibodies for the rage virus.

8. Bonus: There are some stylistic references to the previous movies. First, the nudity might be somewhat inspired by the nudity of Jim in the initial 28 Days Later, same for red lens camera in the initial scary stuff compilation, which also contains shots from 28 Weeks Later.

[psychicpinenut]

netflix atla review

i decided that i wanted to see it through anyway so i finished the netflix atla. here are the things that made me want to hurl rocks at my tv (i might not remember a lot of things because i stopped watching after ep 4 and only continued this week so this might get rambly as i try to recall things)

let me start on the cast. no offense to these kids but my god. one of the things i hate the most is when you can tell an actor is acting. the whole time you could see that they walk up to their mark, stop there and recite the lines like they're in a high school play. and i get that they're young and probably don't have too much experience but i just keep thinking about the original voice cast who were children as well at the time of recording and they're some of the most talented actors i've ever heard. but then again i know they had to not only find people who resemble the characters but can do martial arts and act. so whatever, i hope they'll grow more during this. the only actor i liked was dallas liu who is the oldest of the main cast (i believe he was around 20 when they filmed this) which is probably why he doesn't have a chronic case of child acting.

constantly making up and/or changing lore:

why can aang only speak to past avatars in their shrines?

roku is sidelined in favor of kyoshi (who for some reason is extremely aggressive towards him) who can see into the future apparently because she gave aang a vision of the northern water tribe being destroyed instead of sozin's comet coming.

aang somehow being "lost" to the ocean spirit at the end which is ???

sokka and katara can enter the spirit world with aang

koh keeping his victims like some fucking spider and only gives them back after aang gave some stupid totem back. they also brought him so forward that he doesn't tell aang about tui and la which was the entire fucking point of looking him up in the first place

yue is a fox? in the spirit world?

wan shi tong is there also in the spirit world

i'm guessing they're already abandoning the ancient library storyline because they already intoduced wan shi tong and zhao was shown that he found out about tui and la from the fire sages in roku's temple. which is going to be interesting because that's where sokka finds out about the solar eclipse but i guess they'll come up with some other solution like toph can sense the moon moving through her feet or some shit

tui and la becoming mortals for only one night?

zuko having extensive research on the avatars should mean he knows that roku is his great grandfather but we're either leaving that one out or he's just not good at research

they took out sokka's sexism, thus eliminating any chance of character development, in favor of putting in actual sexism perpetrated by the show itself. suki is made into this small town girl, rapunzel type of character who needs sokka, the man, to bring the world to her and expand her mind. and then instead of sokka being grateful to suki for teaching him, she's the one that's thankful for ... going there? and bringing the world to her? because strong women mean they can punch right?

constant references to book 2 in the first season

they made so that aang didn't actually run away from his responsibility as the avatar - which is a pretty important part of his arc as that guilt follows him through the entire series - but that he only took a little trip to clear his head. which makes everyone accusing him of disappearing seem dumb and unfair

which leads me to bumi. why the fuck would bumi be so pissed at him? the whole episode he's antagonizing him and yelling at him to go do his job as the avatar meanwhile he's holding him hostage and making him do his challenges. like let him go so he can do his job maybe?? stupid

the entire ep 3-4. they really just shoved like 5 episodes together into one which i get because they don't have time to do everything but they did it so badly and the messages from each episode disappeared in favor of the CGI fight scenes.

like what do you mean sokka barely even got to interact with jet? that's the episode where sokka is proven to have good instincts and leadership because he saw jet for what he was.

why are teo and his dad here? what about aang's massive grief over the industrialization of his wiped out culture?

why would jet try to kill bumi? they completely obliterated the moral dilemma of jet wiping out a fire nation village because he sees that as justified even though he's killing civilians who happen to be fire nation.

for some reason they had sokka and katara go through the secret tunnel which is kind of fucking weird. i don't mind if they cut the kaang romance line but it is going to be interesting once it comes to the earthly attachments and some plotlines that revolve around aang having a major crush on katara. also what do you mean the badger moles sense "emotions"? toph is about to sense people's emotions in her feet and learn bending that way

they mary sue'd katara. she's bad at waterbending until she isn't and suddenly she's a master just from self taught basic waterbending she learned from the scroll gran gran gave her?? which is another thing they robbed us of because katara going to great lengths to steal the scroll shows how determined she is and desperate to learn waterbending but here she just gets handed the scroll. she's timid and lukewarm the entire season, the only time i can recall her even raising her voice is when she's arguing with sokka over jet. she gets mad at pakku for not letting her fight which is stupid because girl who is gonna stop you? go and fight?? you should be getting mad at pakku for not even trying to teach you waterbending. then she brings the entire untrained female population to the fight because girl power™. despite all of this, she's proclaimed a master without any actual training and beats zuko's ass purely because she's So Good. like at this point she shouldn't be able to hold her own against zuko without the full moon's help because as soon as the sun comes up zuko easily overpowers her ("you rise with the moon i rise with the sun"). which didn't happen here because she's a self proclaimed master now apparently

aang didn't bend a single waterdrop the entire season. it's book 1: water. it's called water. where's the bending aang? too busy doing another stupid walk and talk

stripped of iroh telling zuko he thinks of him as his son

stripped of one of the rawest lines i've ever heard on television: "my father says she was born lucky, he says i was lucky to be born"

which leads me into azula's character. they brought her in earlier just so her role in the whole season can be her groveling at ozai's feet, seeking his approval, trying to outdo zuko. which is insane cause she already outdoes zuko by a mile. she's a prodigy. they make it look like ozai favors zuko over azula which is so fucking insaaaane it made me so mad. she already knows she's better than zuko, she doesn't need her father's approval. also why isn't her fire blue.

iroh being the one who kills zhao. this one pissed me off so badly because in the original, as the ocean spirit takes hold of him zuko reaches out to zhao to try to save him.... that man tried to have him KILLED. and zuko still tried to save him. but zhao's arrogance didn't let him take his hand and that was his demise. that single act tells us so much about zuko and they just??? took that out??? so iroh can just murder him?? instead of it being the ocean spirit's revenge for killing its partner? instead of giving us that glimpse into who zuko is as a person? i'm going insane

don't even mention the fact that zuko fought back against ozai during the agni kai. he was literally banished because he refused to fight him. he got the scar because he refused to fight him. that's who zuko is!!!! and then they show us that he, a 13 year old boy who is still fairly inexperienced at bending, could have defeated ozai but he chose not to?? i'm sorry???

during the meeting where he spoke out against their plan, they made it look like he only spoke up because the general taunted him and not because he thought what they wanted to do was morally wrong.

now tell me which line hits harder: "compassion is a sign of weakness" or "you will learn respect and suffering will be your teacher". yeah...

yue bringing sokka to the spirit oasis to heal momo?? it was so fucking stupid and unserious that they were cradling a cgi lemur that i was in tears of pain. i almost gave up there

sokka constantly talking about wanting to be a better warrior and bossing katara around but doing absolutely fuck all to prove himself was insane. sokka was just standing around the whole season making bad jokes (cause wow they made sokka unfunny somehow) and flirting with women.

there was no goofiness or lightheartedness to aang. he took everything so fucking seriously it actually hurt to watch because they blew things out of proportion that didn't need to be. why was he so afraid of his normal bending power? not even his avatar state power but just his airbending. constantly angsting over his responsibility and how he's failing as the avatar. jesus fucking christ.

since zuko never stole katara's necklace, june had to use some fuckin random fabric she found on one of the trees that could've belonged to anybody??

zuko was able to capture aang after june found him instead of getting his ass whooped and paralysed so when zhao basically forces him to hand aang over to him, it's easier to guess who the blue spirit is as zuko makes a whole scene about it earlier

truly the one thing i really liked was the addition that the 41st division was the crew he protected at the war meeting

circling back to the first episode where we start out in the past and we get to see the whole genocide of the air nomads instead of finding out along with aang. we also get to see how he ends up in the iceberg so we don't get his story paralleled with zuko's backstory like in the storm. i mean whatever but the aang and zuko parallels were always dear to me.

hated zhao's actor. instead of him being intimidating and scary, he was acting like a frat boy and talked like tom cruise's character in magnolia. just simply annoying

jet telling katara to just stop being sad about her mom and she stops being sad and suddenly she can bend again. and later when he tells her she can bend because he helped her, she straight up denies it because it was "all her" like i gotta disagree there cause no, it was definitely him who helped you.

icing on the cake was when zuko walks into a bar and the patrons there reference like 4 storylines that they skipped over

so anyway... that's all i could think of at the top of my head and i hope they fuck up less in the upcoming seasons god willing