#hopefully no one got scammed

[kithj]

i have like 100 pages of girl flesh left and i WILL finish it tonight <- affirmations chanted in front of the mirror

[stellorc]

briefly leaving my cave to throw a wip here

I've been feeling weird with my art and life in general so I took refuge reading and playing stardew valley for the past few weeks. The weirdness isn't completely gone but it's not as haunting as before.

Anyway, please have this snippet of my beloved baby Revan being her broody teenage self. It's nowhere near to be finished but I'm having fun with the process.

With that said, hello to the new (actual!) people who have stopped by this mess of a blog and decided to stay. And to everyone who is still around, a big pat on the head. Thank you all so much <3

[lxnarphase]

baby put your back into it ๋࣭ ⭑

☾₊‧⁺...cw : toji fushiguro x fem!reader, smut, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, overstimulation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, rough sex, begging, smug and cocky reader, feral toji

☾₊‧⁺...a/n : idc idc i wanted something self-indulgent and want toji to call his wife 'ma'. hopefully it's good, it's been a long while since i have written anything so enjoy ☾

☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : you notice a slight change in toji...seems like his breeding kink reached the next level

it didn't take long for you to notice something was different with toji. he would just...keep referencing families, babies, pregnancy...it was definitely weird coming from him.

"can you believe how expensive diapers are? if you ever had a baby, i'd just steal them, 'm not gettin' scammed for piss-'n'-shit-holders."

"...do you think you'd have a fat baby? jus' asking, 'cause you got some fat cheeks. and this time, I'm talking about the ones on your face."

"i hope you don't get gross cravings if you get pregnant. hot chips, peanut butter, and bacon? nah, wife or not, i'd beat your ass."

but everything really got worse when he started calling you that fucking nickname.

"hey, pretty ma."

"mmm, c'mon, ma, stay in bed with me longer..."

"fuck, you look so good under me like this, ma...can't wait to destroy that pretty cunt."

you didn't think too much of it, it was probably just toji being...toji. except, now? you realize exactly what's been plaguing his mind.

"you make me so fuckin' mad, y'know that," toji huffs, his fingers digging into the plush fat of your hips as he helps you fuck yourself on his thick cock.

you scoff, giving a little grind of your hips. the way he sucks in a breath and rolls his hips up into you made you grin; he talks so much shit for someone whose dick throbbed so much from that little movement.

"if i didn't make you mad, toj, you wouldn't have stuck around."

you don't give him the chance to give you a snide response before you climb off his lap and further up on the bed, giving the silent hint to switch positions. toji has to bite his tongue, shooting you a glare that makes you grin.

"you are insufferable, woman," he grumbles, coming to hold himself over you as he continues to glare down at you. toji sucks at pretending to be mad you, you think with a giggle, seeing need swirl in those pretty eyes of his. he slides his cock between your slick folds, cursing when it catches on your entrance.

just as toji is about to slide back in, you press your hand against his abdomen while your other hand wraps around the base. "ooh," he hisses, smirking down at you. "pretty wife's gonna put it in for me?"

however, it's clear he doesn't expect it when you begin to tug the condom off, eyes snapping up to you. oh, that absolutely adorable look on your face, brows furrowed together and embarrassment all over it...he felt himself twitch because of it. your usual cocky and smug persona seemed to have melted away.

"babe...what are you—"

"toji, do you wanna have a baby with me?"

the sudden question makes him freeze, his eyes widening with a mixture of shock and arousal. were you seriously asking him this now? as you fucking tugged the condom, making it slowly peel off his dick?

did you know there was no coming back from this?

"i'm being serious, fushiguro, give me an answer before i make you put a new condom on," you mutter shyly under your breath, the condom finally coming off.

he's snapped back to the present when he feels you rubbing his tip through your soaking cunt, little sighs leaving you when it brushes over your clit.

"...are you serious? hey, hey, look at me. you're not fuckin' with me right now, are ya? tell me. you really want t' have a kid with me?"

you finally make eye contact with him, that vulnerable look on your face making his heart race. you were too precious for your own good...god he was so fuckin' happy he wifed you up.

"yes, toji, i want you to make me a mommy. i...i-i want to start a family with you, okay? so stop asking me questions and jus—oh-!"

with no hesitation and no time to finish your sentence, toji slides himself inside, his hips flush against your ass as he groans your name. you're so fucking warm and wet, holy shit, he could cum just from having you wrapped around him like this.

"good god, you're gonna be the fucking death of me," he groans, leaning down to press a heated kiss against your lips. "i'm gonna ruin you, i'm goin' to fuckin' destroy you and this little cunt, you know that right?"

toji starts moving, setting a fast, deep, rough pace that makes his hot tip press against every part of you in ways that make your eyes roll back. "t-toj, w-waaait—!"

he shakes his head, eyes squeezing shut as he lifts your legs up, putting you into a goddamn mating press to stuff you full and you know you aren't going to make it out of this sane.

especially not when you keen at the feeling of his cock kissing your cervix.

"i can't, i can't wait, ma, i can't," he huffs into your ear, the room filling with the wet slaps of his balls smacking against your ass, the wet squelching of your needy cunt trying to suck his cock back in each time he pulls out.

"do you know what it fuckin' does to a man to hear his. fucking. wife. say she wants him to knock 'er up? huh? you don't d'you, baby girl," he asks into your ear, hips pounding hard against yours to punctuate each word.

all toji can think about is you, you getting round with his baby, you glowing so gorgeously, the way you'll out all cute, maybe get pudgy all over, all because of him...and everyone would know who did it.

"hoohmygod, listen to that pretty pussy," he hisses, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as his eyes flutter back into his head.

you can't help but hear it, it sounds so messy and sloppy, you just know you'll have to replace the sheets after this. but that's the last thing on your mind when he shifts forward just a bit, making your hips tilt up just a little more—

"oh my god, toji, t-toji, baby, don't stop, please," you practically sob, lifting your hips up to meet his thrusts as he hits that sweet spot so perfectly.

a cruel smirk breaks out on his face when he realizes he found that spongy spot inside you that makes you cream, leaning close and pressing his forehead against yours. "i know, i know, it feels good, doesn' it? yeah, you're such a slut for my cock, fuckin' milkin' it like a good girl," he coos to you condescendingly.

"w-we can't go back, toj," you whimper, your hands coming up to cup his face. you messily press wet kisses all over his face as you moan openly. "c-can't fuck with condoms anymore, it feels too good, baby,"

"shh, shh, mama, i got you," he reasures you, chuckling at how precious you are...telling him not to fuck you with condoms anymore? oh, he had no problem with that.

"'m gonna make sure i breed you nice 'n' deep, yeah? gonna get you pregnant with my baby," he coos, moving his hand between you both to rest on your stomach. "'m gonna fill you up...right here," he says with a devious tone before he presses down right as he pushes back inside of you.

"babyyyy, i'm cumming," you cry, digging your nails into his back as tears stream down your face. he didn't stop, still snapping his hips into you as you orgasm, feeling you squeeze him so fucking tight as he talks you through it, little phrases of 'that's it, keep cumming' and 'goooood, you're gettin' so wet, milk that cock, it's all for you' being huskily groaned into your ear.

but, when you think he'll stop, giving you a break...you realize he's not, he's not stopping, toji's still fucking you, and you glance down and see how you're creaming, your cum coating his cock in a milky sheen as you squeal, managing to get your legs off his shoulders to try and move up on the bed away from his unforgiving pace.

"tojiiii, 's too much," you huff, managing to move far up the bed enough that only the tip is inside of you...but toji isn't letting you get away that easily.

"nononono, don't run away, don't run away from me, mama." he follows you up the bed until you are trapped between him and the pillows messily pushed against the headboard.

"don't run, c'mon, get back on my cock, tha's it," toji rasps, his voice making you shiver. he sounds so desperate, so unhinged, so needy. he looks so good like this, you think, mewling when he pushes back inside.

"there she is, good girl, lettin' me breed her cunt."

your insides are getting turned into mush, and, fuck, was he going deeper? you nodded your head, but you didn't even know why, it jsut felt right, felt so good, you were gonna cum again—

"i need to fuckin' breed you," he practically whines, toji's eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on chasing his end, your sticky cunt driving him fucking mad. soon, he'd be cumming inside of you, filling you up, his hot, thick cum getting sucked right into your womb by your desperate pussy...

"shit, fuck, doll, let me cum in you, let me empty my balls inside of you, i want it so fuckin' bad, mama, let me make you my pretty pregnant wife, please, let me give you a baby—"

he was rambling, eyes snapping open as he tried to glare at you but you just moan when he made eye contact. he's trying sohard to seem angry, but he's not, he's melting in your walls, eyes begging you to let him paint them white, to try and knock you up.

you nod again, rapidly to the point you get dizzy, hands grabbing his biceps and squeezing hard. "toji, don't you, hhf, waste a fuckin' drop, or i swear to god i will t-tie you up and milk you until you are shooting blanks, give me your fuckin' baby—"

"—fuckin' shit, babyyy, i'm cumming, fucking take it, take it, take my cum into that pretty little cunt-!"

the groan that he gives you is loud and needy, dropping down to messily kiss you as he pounds into you in deep, hard thrusts trhough his orgasm. you shudder violently at the feeling of thick, hotness filling you up from the inside. it's so much, you can tell it's not all gonna fit, feeling some of it messily spurt out of you as his thrusts grow lazier.

"thank you, baby," you softly coo, thankful for both the break of overstimulation and the pleasant feeling of being so full. he nearly collapses on you, holding himself up with his forearms as he pants, catching his breath as you kiss all over his face, waiting for him to come back to you.

eventually, he sits up, a hand running through his messy hair as his other one stays on your waist, stroking it up and down, taking in the view of you catching your breath against the pillows he cornered you against.

...you're so so pretty.

"shit...ah, damn, you're a mess," toji mutters to himself, looking between the two of you. it's a filthy mess, a mixture of your cream and the thick cum that couldn't stay inside. hell, he doesn't think he's ever cum this much in one go before. "mmmn...it looks pretty though," he says with a proud smirk. he did that to you, after all.

as he goes to pull out of you, toji's shocked by the way you manage to gain the strength to flip him onto his back...just that single move had him twitching back to hardness inside you as wide eyes looked up into your mischievous ones.

"don't pull out, yet, toj...just one more time? just to make sure it takes?"

an almost evil smirk breaks out on toji's face as he digs his fingertips into your ass, hard enough that it'll leave marks.

"shit, i knew i married the right fuckin' woman. come on, baby girl, let me see you fuck me stupid. let's make sure i give my wife what she wants.

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter this work

[vividbeast]

VOICEMAILS JUMPSCARE

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

Fanfic Thieves on Youtube

A collection of youtube channels have been uploading preexisting fanfictions in videos with little to no credit to the original authors. These are not podfics, these channels copy-paste the fics into text-to-speech readers then upload the unaltered audio over static or unrelated backgrounds, either art that is also stolen or mobile game footage. In addition to not naming the authors, they alter the title to make it that much harder for readers to recognize or find the original uploads. Some go so far as to pretend they themselves are creating the fics in question. Many claim that their stealing actually helps give fics "exposure" despite the intentional steps they take to conceal the origins of the fics they profit off of. However, this practice has lead many authors to discontinue fics after the frustration of having their hard work stolen. Many of these channels claim they will remove videos upon request, but will either argue with the author in order to keep it up, or simply unlist the video for a time until they think the author isn't paying attention anymore. And their solution to receiving strikes against their channels in the past has been to further obfuscate the origins of their content instead of even considering asking first.

”I got caught stealing, so instead of not stealing anymore, I’m doubling down on stealing even more so it’s harder for people to find out and prove I’m stealing. Stealing doesn't count if the specific person I stole from didn't call me out. I am the real victim.”

That, plus the incessant tag scumming in all the videos (spamming unrelated tags in order to appear in more search results) proves to me that these are lazy attention seekers who don't want to put in creative effort when they could just leech off of the passion of others.

In order to report them, go to their channel's "About" page and click the flag icon. Said icon might be behind the three dots in the top bar on mobile. Go to "Report User" at the bottom and tick the "spam and scams" button. This will allow you to list multiple videos as offenders instead of reporting them individually. Youtube's policy states that video spam constitutes:

Massively uploading content that you scraped from other creators.

Auto-generated content that computers post without regard for quality or viewer experience.

If you recognize one of your fics among the stolen, say so in the additional comments box, and perhaps call out the channel directly in the video's comments. If you recognize someone else's fic, please let the original author know so they can report the channel as well. Many have been confronted for stealing previously and refuse to admit wrongdoing.

Most of what I've found has been My Hero Academia fics since that's my fandom and those are the ones I can recognize as stolen, but there are many other channels that steal from other fandoms, so I invite anyone and everyone to reblog this with their own findings.

The reality is that this extremely low-effort content and new youtube channels are both very easy to make, so most likely they'll start new channels once the ones on this list are run through. But hopefully, if we all work together and keep whacking these moles, perhaps we can instill that same defeatism they caused so many creators who didn't deserve it, and eventually they'll give up.

My sincerest thanks to everyone who helped bring additional channels to my attention. A special thanks to ao3 user InArduisFidelis who brought the initial attention to the issue, and @owlf45 whose work was stolen.

Links under the cut.

YurikoFanfics - Not only stole content, but acted in comments as though they were the one writing these stories.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@YurikoFanfics

What-IF-Anime - Has the exact same "disclaimer" about not being the original author as the one above. Either they're the same person or the thieves are stealing from each other.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@What-IF-Anime

quirkywhatif7 - Either an alt of the above, or all these people are talking to one another because this one made a community post identical to a comment the one above made in response to being called out (the above screenshots).

https://www.youtube.com/@quirkywhatif7/about

DekuFanfic - It's the same fucking guy again.

https://www.youtube.com/@DekuFanfic/about

InfiniteParadoxfanfics - Nothing notable, same deal as the others.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@InfiniteParadoxfanfics/about

WhatIfAnimeChannel - Admits in their community posts that other people write the fics they post but still doesn't give credit. Migrated to a new channel after issues with youtube, likely being flagged previously.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@WhatIfAnimeChannel/about

WhatIfAnimeAll - Alt of above.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@WhatIfAnimeAll

FWNWorld - Makes sure to tell you that the videogame footage is theirs, but can't bother to credit anyone else.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@FWNWorld/about

WTFW - Claims to have "[A] team of talented writers, voice actors, and artists work together to create immersive fan fiction stories that are sure to captivate your imagination." Just the same test-to-speech stolen content over videogames. So straight up lying claiming that everything is theirs (and that anything they make is quality).

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@WTFW

MHA2.0Fanfics - Lots of crossover theft.

https://www.youtube.com/@MHA2.0Fanfics/about

Collerwhatiif - Pretty sure this one is the same guy as the previous 2, also has one for another fandom.

https://www.youtube.com/@Collerwhatiif/about

https://www.youtube.com/@GoJoFanfiction/videos

ko_sensei - Another that claims to have a "team" that makes the stories they steal: " passionate about creating compelling and engaging fanfiction that explores the various "what ifs" in the anime universe."

https://www.youtube.com/@ko_sensei/about

FantasticWhatIf - Multifandom stealing, uses the exact same bs disclaimer as many others.

https://www.youtube.com/@FantasticWhatIf/about

LettuceHeadFanfics - No credit, no acknowledgement of anything. Next one is an alt.

https://www.youtube.com/@LettuceHeadFanfics/about

brocollifanfics - Alt of above, once again admits to stealing with a declaration of "☆If you want to takedown any videos. You can mail us or leave a comment below the video☆"

https://www.youtube.com/@brocollifanfics/about

whatifofficial786 - Focuses on MHA/Naruto crossovers. Identical format.

https://www.youtube.com/@whatifofficial786/about

NotWhatIf - I've lost track of who's an alt of who but yet another identical format, descriptions, and bullshit claims of "enhancing the viewer experience" by putting a robot voice over bootleg fortnite footage.

https://www.youtube.com/@NotWhatIf/about

weebxds - Same again.

https://www.youtube.com/@weebxds/about

ItachiFanfics - Naruto channel, we can at least confirm that this one is run by a human given the rare different descriptions and a real voice at the beginning of videos before the robot comes back.

https://www.youtube.com/@ItachiFanfics/about

WhatIfDN - As if mockingly, a bunch of videos have a "credit" section in their descriptions that is of course blank.

https://www.youtube.com/@WhatIfDN/about

SpiceandBooks and spiceandfiction - Apparently Youtube itself has started picking up on the bullshit, because this multifandom channel is being dinged as ai spam so they started a new one.

https://www.youtube.com/@SpiceandBooks/about

https://www.youtube.com/@spiceandfiction/about

theoriginalastra - Doesn't even bother with disclaimers, the following are multiple alts/potential alts for different fandoms.

https://www.youtube.com/@theoriginalastra/about

SillySenpai12 - Highschool DXD alt.

https://www.youtube.com/@SillySenpai12/about

RosieRealms - Naruto alt.

https://www.youtube.com/@RosieRealms/about

DekuWhatIfs - Potentially another astra alt but not sure, doesn't matter because all these channels do the same thing anyway.

AnimeStark688 - No credits or disclaimers.

https://www.youtube.com/@AnimeStark688/about

Please take the time to report these channels, spread this post around, and reblog with any additional offending channels you find.

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Blurbs: Drive My Car

————————————————————————-

Summary: You still haven't learned your lesson… and are back with a Joe prank! Now it's calling your poor husband to tell him about your discovery of “Christmas gas”.

Warnings: Fluff, slight illusion to smut

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

————————————————————————-

December 12th, 2023

I still don't know how Joe isn't tired of me and my tricks yet. After all of the pranks I've pulled on him I just keep finding more.

Bored in bed since Joe was gone, I found a prank I could do on him over the phone and immediately got down to business.

He was at his parent's house helping his mom build a new dresser like the amazing son he is while I stayed at home with Tyson and Miles. They weren't awake yet so I could put Joe on speaker while recording with his iPad.

After making my hair look decent I pulled Joe’s contact up and called him.

In usual amazing husband fashion, he answered in less than two rings.

“Hey Joey.” - you

“Hey, Mama. What's up? Do I need to step outside for this.” - Joe

Even though I loved Robin with my whole heart, I really didn't want her to think I was a ditz who thought diesel was “Christmas gas”.

“Uhm, yes.” - you

“Okay gimme a sec.” - Joe

A few moments later you could hear the back sliding door shut and Joe told you to keep going.

“Okay so the other day I saw this TikTok about this thing called Christmas gas and I wanted to try it. So I did. Now my car barely even got home and it was making a weird sound.” - you

“Baby… what? What the fuck is Christmas gas and where did you get it?” - Joe

“The gas station we always go to! It's just gas that's supposed to smell like pine wood for the holidays.” - you

I had to mute myself because I was dying laughing. Joe sighed and groaned out of pure annoyance before clearing his throat to speak.

“You actually put it in your car?” - Joe

“Mhm. Should I have not of?” - you

“I don't know, y/n! I've never heard of damn Santa gas or whatever the hell!” - Joe

“Christmas gas! It’s a limited edition!�� - you

“Limited edition… baby why would they have limited edition gas?” - Joe

“I don't know. It was like three more dollars a gallon though and didn't even smell like pine wood.” - you

“Oh my god. y/n, was it coming from the green nozzle?” - Joe

“Yes! You have heard of it!” - you

“y/n, that's diesel babe! Did you put diesel in your car?” - Joe

“No, I put the Christmas gas in.” - you

“The green nozzle is diesel, y/n. That's why it was 3 more dollars than the regular gas, and why your car isn't working, because you put diesel in your gas car!” - Joe

“Are you sure? The gas station was decorated for Christmas and the green pump even had lights on it.” - you

“Yes, I'm sure! I'm gonna have to call the mechanic and take your car in when I get home later. Hopefully, your engine isn't ruined.” - Joe

“Is my car going to be ruined, Joey?” - you

“I don't know baby. You have to stop doing those stupid TikTok trends, y/n.” - Joe

“I’m sorry Joe. If my car’s ruined don't feel like you have to get it fixed.” - you

“That's BS. Imma get your damn car fixed. Just promise you won't do stuff like that till you run it by me because it might be a scam.” - Joe

“Okay, baby. I love you.” - you

“I love you too, just don't use your car till I get home. If you need to go somewhere before I do just take one of mine.” - Joe

“Thank you, just one more thing to tell you before you go.” - you

“Please tell me you didn't get your oil changed with reindeer piss.” - Joe

I busted out laughing and Joe giggled along with me, proud of how he was quick enough to make a funny joke.

“No! But… this was a prank.” - you

“Oh my god y/n! So your car is fine?” - Joe

“Yes. I haven't even left the house… or even the bed yet today.” - you

“Shit babe, you had me worried for a minute. Well, I'm gonna go. I love you.” - Joe

“I love you too! Kinda sad I won't get to see you play sexy mechanic though.” - you

“Pregnancy hormones?” - Joe chuckled

“They’re through the roof.” - you giggled

“I’ll help when I get home.” - Joe

I could practically hear his smirk in his lust-laced promise.

“Bye, Joey.” - you

“Bye, Mama. Don’t be buyin’ any gasoline from elves ya hear?” - Joe

“Yes, sir.” - you laughed and Joe hung up

That gorgeous man is a saint for putting up with me.

————————————————————————-

Authors note: this is my favorite thing ever?! Saw this request in my inbox and IMMEDIATELY started writing.

Request for this fic;

[hannie-dul-set]

karma comes in the form of vehicular accidents and designer leather jackets. — [preview].

SYNOPSIS. when you’re nearly run over by a car, and said car happens to be a porsche 918 spyder, your broke ass knows better than to let this one in a million miracle slip by. 

PAIRING. shen quanrui x female! reader. GENRE. emotionally-stunted idiots to lovers, implied college! au, rich boy x not-so-rich girl trope but neither of them are normal! they’re both not well adjusted! mc is an actual scammer and ricky’s love language is throwing out exorbitant amounts of cash, romance, humor, angst if you squint but i prefer it when things are stupid, suggestive. WARNINGS. swearing, probably a number of illegal things, dubious medical practices, scamming, gold-digging, mild manipulation, a not very healthy dynamic at first but we’ll get there, more tba. WORD COUNT. teaser: 915 | full fic: est. 15-18k.

RELEASE DATE. within january, maybe. TAGLIST. send an ask/dm/reply to be added.

NOTE. hello riyangi nation i have another insanity-driven wip to offer. hopefully i go crazy again and write 4-5k a day like my last ricky longfic HAHAHHAHAH. this one has a bit more plot, a bit more seriousness, but still on the spectrum of unhinged!!! hope u enjoy.

preview under the cut.

IT’S A DOG EAT DOG WORLD OUT THERE. You’ve learned this lesson time and time again, ever since the early age of six— when your father got kicked out from his own start-up thanks to his greedy cousins, when you got in trouble for punching a classmate in first grade because he lifted up your skirt but the fucker was the grandson of your primary school’s dead, and when your high school scholarship got screwed over because “your parents unfortunately don’t support the school enough,” and you flipped off your home teacher all while calling him an ass-kissing, money-grabbing piece of shit.

Well, you were forced to transfer after that.

At least your new school didn’t base their scholarship grants on fucking PTA donations instead of grades.

From then on, you’ve learned that the only way to survive is to screw people over before getting screwed over yourself. There’s no point being nice. You can’t bother being a doormat to people who don’t even contribute a cent to your rent. You’re not wasting your smiles for people you can’t use.

Maybe it’s how you’ve grown to be so opportunistic, because the moment you and a friend were told that only one of you could get a full ride to Yonsei University— you didn’t think twice to cut him off. You stopped sharing your notes. You stopped studying together because why should you be nice to your competition? He was more well off than you anyway. His future doesn’t rely on handouts like it yours does. 

Bottomline, yes, you’re not the nicest person in the world. Sure, you screwed over some strangers opting to go to the same job interview as you by giving them the wrong directions. Maybe you cut yourself off from your parents the moment you turned legal when their debt started getting to them and they started relying on you to get out of the pitfall instead of pulling their own fucking weigh. Yes, you’re not a good person. You’re fully aware of that.

Which is why you can’t exactly say fuck you to god when karma comes to bite you in the ass via a car accident on your way to your weekend work shift.

The dead and quiet road you usually cross is now filled with noises of panic.

“Oh my god— dude! Call an ambulance!”

Your lungs hit asphalt and your head starts ringing. A pained hiss slips through gritted teeth. Something’s broken, you grunt, or at the very least not how it should be based on the sharp pain you’re feeling on the arm wedged between your body and the rough and dusty road. “Are they dead?!” you hear someone yell, followed by a car door swinging and footsteps running closer, yet your eyes remain squeezed shut from the blinding headlights and the aching of your entire body.

But it’s not the pain you’re dwelling on. No. It’s the hospital bills and the inevitable days off you’d have to take thanks to your god forsaken fucking luck.

The car should’ve just killed you on the spot.

“Are you okay?!”

However when you finally open your eyes and recognize the embodiment of your karma body slamming you into the ground in the form of a freaking Porsche, your worries suddenly get washed away into oblivion.

Holy shit, you’re fully conscious now. You’ve just hit the jackpot.

“O—oh, she’s awake, she’s awake! Gyuvin—”

Whoa.

There’s a person hovering above you. Rather, the person’s gold gilded necklace is dangling in front of your face. This is more than a jackpot. This is better that the fucking lottery.

“What—what do I do?”

“Is she responsive?!”

“U—uhm— are you okay?” Pretty boy that you assume is the one who nearly killed you is flitting his eyes in panic and is unsure with what to do with his hands. His face aside, the guy is decked out in designer clothing. You don’t miss the engravings on his jacket, the shiny glints of gold coiled around his panicked fingers. You’re not letting his chance slip away. You let out a grunt of pain and start folding into yourself. “Ahh, I don’t think she’s okay! What’s the number for 119?!”

Half acting. Half actually fucking hurting because ow. Maybe you did break something.

“I don’t know! Taerae, what’s the number for—”

“Are you two stupid?!”

Well shit. The pain stops paining because if they bring you to a hospital different from the one you have in mind, it’d be a loss for you. So you play it up even more. “A—ah, I think something’s broken,” you wince. Pretty boy drops his phone and tries helping you prop yourself up. 

“Crap. I think it’ll take too long if we call an ambulance,” says one of his companions behind him. “H—hey, do you mind if we just take you to the hospital right now?”

Now, this doesn’t sound safe. Around three men in their early twenties with very evidently no first aid experience delivering an injured woman to the hospital with what you think is a two-seater car is a recipe for disaster. You’re still on the dirty ground, arm definitely broken, with a rich guy looking like he’s about to start crying at any moment very hesitantly trying his best to help you sit up.

They’re waiting for your answer. And the answer is pretty obvious.

“Yes, please. Thank you!”

Because if you get even more injured along the way, that’ll simply be an extra bonus for you.

karma comes in the form of vehicular accidents and designer leather jackets. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[sashi-ya]

𝑻𝑶 𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑨𝑳 𝑨 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻. Trafalgar Law x F! Reader

🌨 a/n: so I recently been to Austria, a country I often visit since it's literally like a dream. (plus, my mom knew she was pregnant with me there, so I was used to come back to Innsbruck as much as I could with her). But in any case I got inspired there to write this little fic, that might -or not- be a multi chapter one if you all like it. The place exists and the scam part, happened to me -kinda, the airbnb existed, but not as it was listed :P- but in any case, please enjoy and don't forget to leave some feedback if you want more~ ❄ tw: a very sfw story, that might evolve into something else if you want me to keep writing about their trip 😏 ☃ wc: 2.6k

Hijacking for the first time, what could go wrong? Maybe everything, maybe nothing.

A two-month long trip all around Europe has found you on a little village of Austria. Your boots are cold, but luckily they are snow proof ones. Your skin all bumpy, your cheeks irritated. It’s been snowing all night, and despite the sun rising for now, some clouds in the sky menace with more white blessing to fall upon your shoulders very soon.

Those little mountain streets around the Alps are wonderful, they surround mountains going up and down and in a spiral way. But those are wonderful, as long as you can drive a car with heating. And you don’t have one right now.

The crunchy sound of the snow beneath your boots mix with the melody of a glacial river running in between the mountain and the road. It is certainly beautiful, the little rocks and stones being bathed by such pure and cold water, the rests of dry leaves and some moss growing on an everlasting shadow casted by tall, enormous peaks.  Everything is worth taking a picture, but you should prioritize your battery life this time around. The GPS is sometimes wonky, being that high can affect the service.

Many cars have passed by, but none of them have stopped. Little lorries carrying logs pass, cars completely drenched in dirty snow and that mix of salt that roads have during winters.

However, just when your hopes for finding someone to at least give you a ride to the next village were about to run out, the yellow shine of an old VW ban flashes before your eyes.

There, behind a curve -a very dangerous one if you ever went to the mountains- something smells like smoke and a tall man of white furry hat swears up to the skies.

You walk towards him, carefully. Who knows what is happening? Who knows who that man is capable of? There is one thing you are sure, however, and it is that this man is absolutely mad at his old van.

When peaking behind a dark wooden tree that’s now covered in spots of white snow, you discover the annoyed man is a young -handsome- one.

His van, a little rusty but still cute, seems to be having problems to keep going and the smoke coming from it shows it very well.

“Sir? Sir! Your van is catching fire!” you announce, realizing the smoke is indeed a very serious issue.

The guy of chocolate skin and tattooed hands turns around to look immediately at you and then to the back of the van. Those 70’s vehicles had actually their engines right in the back instead of the front.

And Indeed, you were right. Apparently the climb had been too tough for the poor old VW and its engine couldn’t take it any longer.

He quickly opens the back door, maybe searching for a fire extinguisher while you grab fistfuls of snow in an attempt to put down the incipient flames. Quickly enough, and with not many damages to count, the fire stops, and the only thing left is a big black spot on the back of the caravan.

“Thank you” he says, as dry as hopefully your socks. “No problem. What happened? Did the engine over heat?” you ask, curious despite his “I don’t want friends” face. “Yes; these hills are no joke. This never happened to my Polar, but there is always a first time…” he sighs, assessing the damage with a sad expression.

Apparently his van has a name; “Polar”. That’s very cute, and his eyes too. A golden shine in them looks even beautiful with the pristine white around. His tattoos do as well. You wonder about his name, and what is he doing on the road, but you are not sure if it’s proper to ask. However, he asks first.

“What are you doing here? do you have a car?” he mumbles, his voice is as attractive as he is. His eyes scan the place, but nothing catches his attention.

“No, I am actually hijacking. No one stopped so I started walking before the sun starts going down. I definitely got scammed; the Airbnb I was supposed to stay in didn’t, in fact, exist.

He grunts, almost silently. Apparently he is not happy with what happened to you but that’s it.

“Well, that’s so unsafe. I am sorry I can’t give you a ride right now. Apparently none of us have been blessed with good luck today” he says, walking around his vehicle with long legs covered in spotted jeans.

You nod. Your tongue is aching to ask about him, but you clearly catch the hint… he doesn’t want you there.

“Yep. Well, I wish you luck! I must keep going” “Same to you, be careful”

He doesn’t even look at you, something that makes you -somehow- very sad. In any case, you start walking away. There is no point in staying there… even if you have great mechanical skills that could help.

And as you do, you also have a very, very loud consciousness voice screaming at you on how could you leave him with no solution if you know it…

“Sir, you should check your water level…”  you shout, a few meters away from him. The sound of your voice echoes in the huge natural immensity of the Alps and his golden eyes finally fall upon you.

He stops moving for some seconds, lost in you. You, as well, wait for him to say something else. Something like “stay with me” or “don’t go”. A total stranger you want to hang up with. A total unknown woman he wants to protect.

“You know how to fix this?” “I do…”

Or so that was what you thought.  

No more than a couple of minutes took you to help him out. VW vans are noble machines; they are durable and easy to fix despite their particular design. And soon, as a part of your payment, the man that you learned is called Law and you drove away through intricate roads and huge snowflakes.

“Where are you going, (Name)-ya?” he asks, handing you an old cover from an old comic, Germa 66.

“I was supposed to stay for a couple of days in Bad Goisern, and then I thought of visiting Salzburg. I am on a long trip through Europe. What about you?”  you ask, cuddling with the blanket. A certain blessing for your freezing hands.

He nods, checking the breaks before going down the hill.

“I am too. I just graduated medical school and I thought of taking a little vacation before my residency starts. I’m going to be a surgeon. A cardiac surgeon” he tells, full of dreams he fails to cover up behind a tough guy expression.

You celebrate his success, and the next couple of hours become a ping pong of questions and answers. A smile on your face that leaves your cheeks hurting accompanies you until the sun hides and the little lights on the mountains start to scatter.

You didn’t want to go down in the first village, nor the second, nor the third. Law, didn’t want you to go down his van either. You named Salzburg, and he promised you to take you there.

But the night found both of you, and apparently your mechanical skills weren’t as good as you thought the would… Polar decided to stop, in the middle of nowhere during a dark, very dark winter night.

You close your eyes as the sound of rusty gears fail and Law’s annoyance grows stronger than ever. When Polar finally loses all of the power, Law manages to agonizingly park on the side of the road and a huge sighs escapes his lips.

You peak through your left eye; his DEATH tattooed fingers squeeze the wheel, and you know he will snap at any moment. But he doesn’t…

“I’m sorry. I thought- I-“ you try to give a plausible apologize, even though you had nothing to do with it.

“No. It is not your fault… it is mine- As we didn’t stop, I have completely forgotten to fuel Polar up” Law says, absolutely mortified for such stupid mistake. Apparently you were enough distraction to keep him from the basics of road tripping.

You breath alleviated and try to stop your upcoming laughter. Your grimacing did nothing to hide it, and a big burst of laughter took over the van and everything around.

Law looks at you pissed, but a soft smirk garnishes his lips. You can’t stop, perhaps it isn’t that funny… but you feel so happy right now. And you have no idea why, since you are literally stranded in a very dark wood with temperatures below 0C and snow pooling on top of that van.

“Welp, it’s ok. We should wait until tomorrow, then” you say, knowing the risks. “You- you prefer spending the night in here? aren’t you afraid of dying?” he asks, surprised.

“I am, in fact, scared of dying. That’s why I know very well I can’t walk during a snowstorm in the middle of the night in the Alps. Plus, you are too sweet to be considered a threat” you joke, searching for some chocolate inside your backpack.

Law narrows his eyes, deepening his frown. Apparently being called “sweet” and “not a threat” is not something he enjoys.

“I could cut you open and took all of your organs out during the night” he says, serious as hell. “Go for it. Don’t forget to steal my heart, doctor” you laugh, taking your jacket off.

Law is flabbergasted; he has never confronted someone like you before… but he is beginning to like it now.

A bar of chocolate that you had kept in your backpack for too long lays too close to his nose. You shake it, offering its sweetness to him.

He takes it but doesn’t eat it. Instead, his hand gets pressed against the window behind you. Law has pinned you against the door of your side. He is not a very muscular man, but he is indeed very tall and lean… if he wanted, he could do anything to you.

Your eyes widen, big as the moon. You swallow, thinking maybe walking through the forest might be a safer option.

“L-Law… I- didn’t mean to-“ you tremble, asking yourself where did you put the Victorinox blade you bought in Switzerland… it should be enough to defend yourself, right?

You notice his chest is also tattooed as his clothes open just a little. His arms, are too. His scent, despite the danger, smells deliciously tempting…

“Don’t trust strangers that easily, (Name)-ya” he whispers, a few centimetres from your lips. Letting you go after and biting the chocolate bar as if nothing has just happened.

You remain there, frozen up with your eyes widen and your lips softly trembling. He is, in fact, very right. Law is indeed a stranger, after all.

When oxygen finally begins to reach your lungs and brain again, you move and blink the dry eyes away. Silently you sit back, properly. You aren’t able to say anything, somehow you have run out of words.

You squeeze the blanket he gave you, covering you as much as you could, making yourself as tiny as possible on that old leather seat.

“Are you ok?” he asks, so nonchalantly.

“Ye-yes, I’m… ok” you mumble back, almost sticking yourself to the passenger door. “Is it ok if I go to sleep? I’m tired”

Law nods, confused. Maybe he was just joking around, but it did scare you big time. He goes down the van and opens the back doors. You look at him disappearing in the darkness until a very little glimpse of silver light coming from the moon filters through the doors.

But, soon after, fairy lights illuminate the back allowing you to discover a very cozy space behind the front seats.

“I am glad I installed this independently from the fuel tank. I have a little power generator for the back. It’s not a hotel bed, but it does the job” he says, showing you a precarious mattress covering the entire floor of the vehicle.

You smile softly, it looks cozy and pretty. The walls are full of random posters and maps, and there is even an old picture of a younger Law with three more guys wearing fancy hats with something written in the snow. You take a closer look at it, to discover it says, “Pirates of Heart” and you giggle. What a peculiar gang name.

“Law, this is really cute. You even have a lot of blankets and cushions!” you chime, easing a little bit.

“My best friend Bepo decorated it for me, I only helped him with the lights” he says, a little embarrassed.

You jump right back, leaving your backpack in the front seat and forgetting everything for the moment. What a reckless lover girl.

“I am going to sleep in the front seat, don’t worry. Use as many blankets as you need” he informs you, closing the back doors and leaving you there. You most probably were to say “no, stay here” but you simply couldn’t.

After all, this tattooed doctor is a gentleman. Right?

You let yourself rest for a bit on that improvised bed, with your sight blurring while looking at the fairy lights. The scent of the blankets and pillows is the same as him, something you secretly enjoy without even knowing. You catch a glimpse of the reflection of him sitting in the front through the back windows, at how he takes his hat off revealing a dark shade of onyx spiky hair.

For the next half an hour, or maybe less, you both become silent. The only sounds are the huge slaps of snow falling from the sky against the van and the subtle whistle of the wind filtering through the doors.

It is cold, but it’s probably colder in the front as Law is only using his Germa 66 blanket to cover up…

“Law? Are you awake?” you ask, shyly.

“Mh? Yes... why?” he asks back, with not much emotion but a soft tremble on his voice. He is probably cold, very cold.

“I feel bad for you; you must be freezing. There is plenty of room back here, you could sleep here. It’s ok with me” you say, taking advantage of not being in front of him.

Law takes a few minutes to move, but he ultimately does. He hops to where you are and sits there crossing his long legs. He is not wearing his black leather boots, so you can see Sora’s socks.

“Cool socks” you say, sitting right in front of him watching his cheeks go blushed. “Here, cover up. You are freezing, doc”

Both of you cover up with heavy blankets and fall into the mattress at the same time, facing each other.

Maybe, it is too strong to deny it. The attraction is natural, and you both can’t stop it… Exactly like the wind and cold reaching your skins.

“I am still cold” you mumble.

“I read in one of my books that the best way to keep the warmth of our bodies is to share it… skin to skin” he whispers, unable to take his eyes away from your lips.

“Is that so?” you breathe, coming closer to his embrace, allowing his arms to surround your frame and your hips to join with the other’s.

His forehead slowly touches yours, the bridge of your noses do as well. Your fingers, playfully but slowly, crawl to the crook of his neck. While his, squeeze your waist with delicate dominance. A leg that snake into the other’s, crossing, tangling…

Lips coming closer, so close. Breaths warming up, going faster and bumpy. Hearts that indeed had been stolen, the first kiss of two strangers, meeting for the very first time like two snowflakes join while falling from an endless sky

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWill they continue their journey together? 🦢

[thepenultimateword]

Secret Santa 2023

For this year’s secret Santa I got @watercolorfreckles (I know you got mine too, but I promise I used a randomizer!) I’m sorry this is late, I’ve been traveling and just writing every chance I can get. I got a little overambitious and wrote several scenes instead of just one, so hopefully it doesn’t feel choppy and you like it!

"Hero's shy medic is the unsung and unappreciated glue that keeps the team together, magically repairing their every injury with her power to heal. What happens when Villain finds out how the hero's broken bones are always so quickly mending, and kidnaps the medic to utilize himself?"

Henchman was waiting in baggage claim when Villain arrived. His violet-dyed hair, thick mess of scars, and tall stature made him stand out against the crowd, but he still waved his whole arm over his head as Villain came through the doors.

Villain's glove creaked feelingless against his suitcase handle. This was getting tiresome. Probably for Henchman too. It was ridiculous that he insisted on picking him up from the airport every trip instead of looking for a new employer.

"Any luck?" Henchman said, seamlessly transferring Villain's bag into his own hand.

Villain's insides twisted. Maybe he should fire Henchman. That would force the underling to think about himself. Though Villain couldn't deny his reluctance to lose such loyalty. He wasn't sure he actually had the strength to enforce his own abandonment.

"Nah." He rubbed his numb hands together and forced a lighthearted tone. "Just another waste of money. I spent three weeks meditating away the damage, only for the so-called "power guru" to say I don't want to be healed. Apparently, if I did, I would have been able to banish the "bile" from my body."

Henchman gave the suitcase wheels a little bang against the ground. "Morons and scam artists.”

"Yes, well, it was a 50/50 shot in the first place. How's my bird?"

Henchman grimaced. "Still eating very little. She has stopped beating against her cage, but now she's very lethargic and despondent."

"You've tried cheering her up? Good food, nice things?"

"Yes, but she's not very chatty. Maybe we should have waited to get her until after your trip. This would have gone better with...some stability."

The automatic door swooshed open, and they stepped out into the chill winter air. Villain blew out a long cloudy breath and watched it disappear into the dreary, gray city landscape. Everything was so temporary. Here one moment, gone the next.

"The opportunity was too good," he said. "Besides, we couldn't leave her with our friend."

Hero had enough of an advantage without also having a decent healer on his side. No matter how many hits Villain divvied out, the heroic team always got back up unscathed. Perhaps without their golden goose, Villain could actually turn the tide. And maybe... Villain didn't want to get his hopes up, but maybe she could do something more too. He knew that Henchman knew that was the main reason he’d stolen her away in the first place. By this point he was just pretending to himself that there was a bigger purpose behind it all.

The crosswalk sign beeped its permission to cross the street, and Villain scanned the lot for Henchman's car, spotting its orangey paint job near the front.

"I am concerned she's been doing poorly this whole time. Why don't we stop by her enclosure first."

Henchman nodded and very kindly played along with the act that this was truly concern over an asset and not another cowardly excuse for himself. “I don’t think she’ll be very pleased to see you.”

She’s not going to help you.

“That’s alright.” Villain slid into the passenger seat. As Henchman loaded his suitcase into the trunk, he muttered under his breath, “I don’t have much left to lose.”

***

Villain called her Birdie.

Of course he knew her real title as Hero’s medic, but the nickname just encapsulated her so well.

So small. So skittish. Always flitting around the outskirts of a fight, the great folds of her medic’s cloak flapping at her sides like wings as she lighted briefly at each fallen party. The color was supposed to mark her as a noncombatant, take any targets of her back, but she had the instincts to remain wary always. Most villains didn’t follow the rules, and the gray was as likely to get her killed as not.

So why continue to wear it? Villain wondered, watching her through the one way glass of her cell's wall mirror. It was really more of a mini apartment than a cell--sitting room, bedroom, bathroom. The sitting room was the only room Villain could view into, but he doubted whether Medic knew that. Perhaps it was riskier to give a hostage so much blind space, but anyone worth keeping around couldn't be kept like any regular prisoner. Though, from the looks of it, Medic wasn't exactly grateful for the thoughtful accommodations.

She sat with her face buried in her knees, grey cloak nearly swallowing her little curled up body whole. He'd asked Henchman to prepare daily clothes changes, and the peeking green edge of sleeve implied she'd been taking them, but the cloak remained the same.

Villain moved around to the front of the cell and drew back the bolt on the otherwise regular door, taking a breath before swinging it open with a flourish. “Hello, Birdie.”

The woman leaped a little, head shooting up and fixing him in the inky black pools that were her eyes.

“Sorry for the delay." He locked the door behind him as casually as he could manage. "I’ve been out of town. But now we can finally chat."

Medic blinked then turned her chin into her shoulder.

Villain plopped down on the couch a couple feet away from her place on the rug. "Apparently you haven't been eating properly. Is the food not up to standard? Can I get you something else? Any favorite meals or treats?"

Medic didn't turn or respond.

"Hmm...what do birdies like. Worms?"

The healer's lip curled a little but still nothing.

"How about chocolate? Steak? Fruit tarts?"

Medic only tucked her chin tighter.

"Alright, I get it. The nice treatment doesn't work on you. Unfortunately, I don't have a mean treatment. Not for you at least. I can't asks favors from someone by relying on fear."

That got her attention. She still didn't unfold, but her eyes watched him sideways. Wary but curious. What could a villain need from a healer. He must have his own, so why her? She didn't need to speak for her thoughts to clutter the air.

"No, I can't just tell you," Villain said with a loud sigh. "You might go tell that precious hero team. I know you're quiet, but I don't believe for a second you're that quiet."

Medic swiveled her shoulders ever so slightly. "How...?"

Her voice was not so birdlike. Short yes, but like a rasped breath than a chirp. Still...

Villain grinned. "The very best of ways: by pretending I knew what you were thinking. Throw out a guess and you'll be right 80% percent of the time. That's also a guess by the way, I haven't actually researched the subject."

Medic retreated back into her cloak.

Darn.

Either he was totally unhumorous, or Medic was just that hard to entertain. Then again, she'd seemed interested by the prospect of a supernatural ability. She'd only clammed up again once she got the simple explanation for her question. She should've already known his Gift from the fights she'd witnessed, though he had held bad considerably this last year.

"You're not like other medics," he said, redirecting the conversation. "You have a Gift, don't you? And don't deny it, I've seen the recovery your patients. Scarless, rapid, perfect. One fight I saw a hero putting full weight on what, minutes previously, had been broken femur."

"And that's why you want me?" Medic squeezed her hands together, nails digging into the back of her knuckles like each word spoken aloud pained her. "Because I'm better than your medics? You want me to turncoat?"

"Not entirely. I took you because your good, yes. So good you've kept that ragtag trash hero team up and running way longer than it should have ever been allowed to go. Hero needs to be stopped."

Nothing.

"I'm going to the statue unveiling tonight." He watched her face closely. "I'm going to break it. And while I'm at it, break him."

"He's not that fragile," Medic said, her voice hushing a little further, and her brow furrowing.

"Ah, you know because you've tried?"

"I know because I' m his medic and I know how much treatment each fight requires." It came out quite a bit snappier than Villain expected and Medic must have realized it too because she set her jaw and looked away again. "I can't help you."

Villain pushed himself back to his feet. The declaration was firm, but hardly the denial of a truly devoted team member. Or maybe he was just reading to hard into things. Medic was shy. Maybe she wanted to make herself clear in as few words as possible. But if there was a chance only her fear was holding her back...

"I'll let you know how it goes," Villain said. With that, he made his way back outside the cell, bolting the door behind him with fumbling fingers. He flexed his hands a couple times, as if to warm them back to full function, but they felt as clumsy and disconnected as always. He shoved them gloved into his coat pockets.

Don't think about that. You have a hero to fight.

***

Villain couldn't feel his shoulders. He'd definitely overdone it. He'd overestimated his ability to fight with his arms as damaged as they were and he had relied too much on the power he'd been so careful to conserve.

He stumbled hard against Medic's door, sliding weakly to his knees. He didn't know why he came here. Henchman was probably having a fit searching for him after he'd bolted. Most of those heroes laid in shattered pieces at the scene. Or at least, parts of them did. Villain had found long ago that his Gift--the power to turn whatever he willed to stone--could be used strategically. The loss of limbs was usually enough to make a hero retire, no need to end a whole life. He wouldn't have minded ending Hero, but once again, the leader was the only one who escaped unscathed. Too this day Villain had only ever managed to take a pinky. It was a wonder no one found that suspicious.

Villain slammed his fist against the cell door, or more like tapped. He stifled a sob. “I don’t want to die.”

Not yet. Not without bringing down Hero’s deceit.

Villain strained to reach the bolt, fumbling it twice before finally jostling it outward. He practically collapsed onto Medic’s rug.

Dark spots clouded his vision but suddenly cool hands were running trails down his face.

“Villain?”

Medic?

No wait, the door…he needed to close…why was she still here?

“Uuughh…” Villain rolled into her knees. “It did not go well.”

“What did he do?”

“Besides use every other person as a shield?”

“I mean to your face.”

Villain squinted up into Medic’s dark eyes, so deep and concerned and…and infinite.

“My face,” he mumbled.

“Are these bruises?” Her fingers trailed a second time down his cheek. “It looks painful.”

“It’s in my face?” Villain barely restrained a wail.

“Villain,” Medic said firmly, her quiet rasp getting almost loud. “What happened? Do you need healing?”

Villain’s throat felt thick and swollen, too sticky to get out words. Of course he needed healing. But if she couldn’t help him…he didn’t know if he could take another failure. He didn’t know if his body could take it.

He extended his hand. When Medic only stared, he nodded at the black, fitted glove.

Medic’s thumb worked under the edge. Villain felt nothing but he imagined her fingers felt just as gentle as they had on his cheek.

She gasped.

Villain glanced at the bare skin for only a moment. The once caramel colored palm now a deep ebony. Like something rotten. Like something dead.

“Villain?”

Villain cleared his throat, fighting the words upward. “All powers have a price.” He forced himself to look at blighted appendage. “Mine’s is killing me.”

Medic turned his hand over in her own. “How long?”

“Always. It used to just be a little. Nails. Hair. Parts I could cut off. Then it hit skin…and it won’t stop. I can’t feel; I can hardly move. And no one…” He choked. “I’m going to die. All from trying too hard to rid the world of Hero, and I couldn’t even finish him tonight.”

Medic rested her fingers on the cuff of Villain’s sleeve, eyes meeting Villain's with some unspoken request for permission.

Villain nodded.

Medic's nimble fingers gently picked at the button, freeing the fabric and rolling it up to his elbow. Villain’s eyes widened along with hers. What had once had been dark veins was now as pitch black his hands. From the nothingness in his shoulders it was probably no different above the elbow.

Medic felt gently at the half-petrifaction. Most people, even his most loyal were afraid of the blight. Henchman was unfazed, but the previous medic had quit rather than admit they didn't want anywhere near Villain. And yet Medic touched him willingly.

“You can’t fix it, can you?” Villain said, practically plead. He didn’t care anymore. Even with the doubt in his gut and in his voice. He just needed help.

“I…I might…” Medic said.

“But Hero wouldn’t like it.”

Medic ducked her head. “It’s not that. Well, no…you’re right, he wouldn’t, but he wouldn’t have to know. And there are no specific rules that say I can’t heal a villain, it’s just…”

Villain blinked groggily up at her as she chewed her bottom lip.

“Like you said, all powers have a price.”

“And this one is too much,” Villain said.

“Yes, well, no. I don’t know.” She glanced toward the open door. “Maybe there’s a better healer…”

Villain closed his eyes, practically sinking with resignation. “No. Already tried. I don’t think I have the energy to search anymore.” He clasped numb fingers around his numb arm. “Or the time.”

A long silence stretched between them.

“It’s alright, Birdie. Fly away.”

It didn’t matter who she told now.

Medic pushed him carefully off her lap, clothes rustling as she rose. Two steps sounded toward the door way and then stopped.

“I’m not supposed to…but I’ll do it.”

Villains eyes shot open. “You will?”

Medic sucked in her lips but nodded. “Just…don’t tell.”

She knelt beside him, long gray cloak fanning out around her. The second glove peeled off easier than the first, and she held both hands in hers.

He’d always wondered what it felt it like to experience one of her gifted healings.

It was warm. Like drinking something hot. It spread from head to toe, and the numbness leeched out little by little. The skin lightened from black to charcoal from charcoal to heather grey from grey to brown.

Medic’s hands turned soft in his grip. He squeezed them lightly, his mouth parting in disbelief at the feeling of pressure of warmth of regular mobility. When he sat up, it came easy. Tears sprang to his eyes.

“You did it! You actually did it! Medic, you are—“

He stopped at the sight of her slumping figure. Sweat rolled down her temples, her face was flushed, and her teeth were grit as if in agony.

“Birdie?”

Medic only shivered.

“Birdie. Birdie, are you alright?”

Villain reached out, but she lurched back, stumbling toward the back corner. Veiny blackness spread from her fingertips, trailing up the creases in her skin. Her shoulders trembled. A small vein popped out of from her forehead. And she glared at the blight. Not like someone afraid of it, but like someone who’d like to peel it off and throw it away. Or burn it.

“No!” she cried and slammed both palms against the wall mirror with a feral cry. Immediately the glass crackled and, like a rolling wave, turned to cold, hard stone.

The black faded from dark ebony to a tan spot only

A few shades darker than her skin. She still glared.

Villain gaped. “You… That’s what I do. How did you do what I do? Did I…? Did you…?”

Medic’s eyes darted toward the door.

Villain jumped in front of it first. “Hey hey hey! I’m not going to tell!”

Another guess but apparently the right one because Medic’s shouldered untensed a fraction.

“I’m not going to tell,” Villain repeated. “I just… How?”

Medic wrapped her cloak tighter around herself. Her eyes had taken on a glazed shine suspiciously alike to unshed tears.

“It’s not exactly healing,” she murmured. “More like stealing. Taking injuries and making them mine.”

“The price.”

She nodded. “But this sort of injury…made from a Gift, it doesn’t work the same. It’s more like a build up of power concentrated in one place. And now that it’s mine…I can do what I like with it.”

Villain cocked his head. “And that’s…bad?”

“I don’t work for Hero,” Medic said. “I’m on the team because he’s supposed to watch me. Stop me from doing things like this.”

“Becoming too powerful?”

“Becoming a villain.”

Villain might have laughed if she didn’t actually look so scared. He took her hands carefully, savoring the sensation of skin on skin warmth once again. He fixed her with a hard stare that she seemed uncertain to hold or shy away from. He smiled, the first real one in a long time.

“What’s wrong with villains?”

Medic swallowed, looking away but not pulling back her hands. Her voice came out very quiet. “I guess…not everything.”

[babygirlbdubs]

Hello Technoblade voters!

So, your guy lost to the GoodTimes. Maybe you don’t know who to vote for now. I mean, if Technoblade isn’t immune to the good times… who is?

I propose to you: Ethoslab.

Now, if you don’t know who Etho is, lemme give you a rundown.

he’s one of THE og minecraft letsplayers. your favorite minecraft youtuber? yeah, etho is probably one of the reasons they got into mcyt. etho is your favorite mcyt’s favorite mcyt

he’s faceless, and has been for his entire 12+ year youtube career

he has only changed his skin once or twice in those 12 years, and the most recent one was to remove the extra face on his torso because he didn’t know how previously

that skin is literally just kakashi naruto

etho is a god at redstone. he basically invented half the redstone that’s used today. hopper clock? that’s etho’s. i mean… he’s invented a storage system that lets you search for a specific item. it’s called the googler because it’s basically a search engine.

he is an absolute NERD (/aff) and insanely smart

he is genuinely kind to his friends, and has a very sweet yet mischievous demeanor. though, even his friends will call him mysterious

he’s canadian so like… arctic/antarctic solidarity… right?

he has spent many many MANY years perfecting a PVP arena game called Battle Bane. look it up. it’s insane.

actually, all the minigames he’s made are pretty insane. and most of them involve death. i mean. he had one called Hurtin’ Hermits where the whole goal was to kill the other hermits as much as possible and enact chaos

I could go on and on about Etho and what he’s like. HOWEVER. I think it’s more interesting to tell you how he’s portrayed by the fandom.

etho tends to be portrayed as a quiet, broody, mysterious guy despite actually being a bit of a goofball

he’s drawn not as kakashi naruto, but more often, a hot twink that can range from sad puppy to sexy dude covered in blood in the span of a single post

some people headcanon him to be as old as the universe, and tied to the void

he has multiple popular animal traits, from catboy to bunny to most commonly arctic fox

there’s etho titty tuesday. there’s. i mean. there’s etho titty tuesday.

i mean really, just… go into the ethoslab tag and you can see all the ways he’s portrayed.

And if that’s not convincing enough, here are some things he’s done in canon to hopefully sway you.

in season 7 of hermitcraft, he had a shop called Shade-E-E’s, where people could sign other people up to basically get harassed (/lh) by Etho’s shenanigans. “Free Glass” meant panes of light grey glass hidden in all your chests so you couldn’t put things into the chest. “Gardening” meant beehives hidden throughout your base so you would hear buzzing at random. “Pest Relocation” meant spawning endermites in your home.

also in season 7, he had the shop Sneak-E-E’s, which was a secret popup shop where he undercut prices or sold rare item overstock. you could only buy while it existed, and only when you could find it. the first time it was built was up in the sky, all out of shulker boxes so it wouldn’t render in until you got close. the second time was in the unused floor of Mayor GoodTimesWithScar’s shop. scar had no idea for. a while.

in last life, he scammed scar out of a life to give to bdubs, and then promptly killed scar and stole the enchanter. oh yeah, he did it with a fishing rod, too.

in season 9, he moved into bdubs’ basement without telling bdubs

in season 9, he also started late. so, in order to catch up, he exiled himself to a place untouched by the other hermits and wouldn’t let himself come back until he was able to defeat a full raid on his own. it didn’t take him long.

in double life, he and joel were paired, and were the most chaotic duo on the server. they hunted people for sport (notably, grian and scar) and burned things down for fun. “the ship burns everything burns” chanted as they set the entire map on fire

in last life, he went around trying to intimidate people into giving him gifts and he would spare their life. pretty much everyone was instantly afraid of him.

actually, most of the hermits are pretty intimidated by etho. including goodtimeswithscar.

also, most of the hermits are ethogirls.

etho and scar end up on opposing sides in pretty much everything, especially the life series (which is a funky lil hardcore battle royale). they are traditionally enemies. they pick fights with each other for fun.

If you want vengeance for Technoblade— blood for the blood god— vote Ethoslab.

Sincerely, Ethogirls

[harrysmimi]

CEOrry Pt. 1

Synopsis: Harry finds an unexpected visitor at his bar

Series Masterlist | More of my work

YN was dragged out with her friends on a weekend. She was sulking around for what no one knew.

You see, like every other story YN's was starting to fill up with more and more trauma. It began with her wanting to move to away for studies, which did not happen with that much ease. Her mother wanted her to stay back home and work her old job. The trauma came with being scammed by people, learning hard way not to trust just about anyone who's being kind. But that was about it.

She's got everything, a nice loving family. Sure her parents don't have the best relationship but they're surviving. Her little brother is thriving in school like always. Until just a few months ago, her dad fell severely sick. Sole bread winner of her family.

All she earned went to providing herself a comfortable life, yet she sent the part of her bonus back home. To add more to that, she moved with few of her classmates as they were looking for a new roommate. That cut down bills by way far. She was able to help out her family the best she could.

She already worked two jobs.

College is a scam, she realised soon enough. It wasn't something one of her favourite YouTuber just said for fun and jokes in their videos. If she got a nice job with the degree which spent so much on already, it would have been worth it. Getting the tag of useless oldest child in her family was disheartening.

Now she has this guilt of being useless weighing on her shoulders. Well, that wouldn't be the only thing.

Her dad never let her take up any responsibilities. So it was new and difficult for her to step into his shoes.

Hopefully, until he's all recovered and healthy.

Of course, she'd still help him out!

"YN, what is wrong with you? Come on, come dance with us!" Julia, one of YN's friend's friend called for her over the over bearing music playing in this club.

All she saw was girls and boys dancing, girls and girls dancing, and boys and boy dancing, and a group of guys hovering over a girl in the corner. She seemed to be enjoying it, but apparently this place is supposed to be safe for the LGBTQIA+ people as well as girls. That particular group gave YN a weird ick for some reason.

Especially, when the girl started to seem feel a little uncomfortable. But to YN at ease those guys were thrown out of the bar immediately and the girl was safe. As YN was about to go pay her mind to something else, her best friend Kayla was pulling her towards the dance floor with a shot glass in her hand, her Fiancé following her with two glasses of shots.

One more thing to put YN on ease was, she doesn't have to pay for anything. That's what her friends said to her before they dragged her out, straight from her work.

"You need to stop sulking!" Kayla yelled so her friend could hear. "Come on, have this."

YN was handed a shot glass. Dressed in a pair of jeans and worn out hoodie she stole from her dad before she moved away, and her worn out and knock off brand Nikes shoes. She doesn't drink, but it all seemed so nice to divulge in.

"No, no, I can't." She shoved the drink back in her friend's hand.

"We have to let loose before we're swarmed by the finals." Josh, Kayla's Fiancé interfered.

Josh is an amazing guy. Like a brother to YN but, oh boy can he be a pain in the ass some times!

Being kinda manipulated by her friends and her intrusive thoughts, YN downed the drink in one go. Leaving her own self in utter surprise. Kayla and Josh looked at her concerned.

"Oh, that burns your throat!" Her yucky face made her friend burst out into laughter.

But there you go!

Another shot in, and YN was completely knocked off. Dancing with Kayla and Julia. The girls giving each other lap dances, as they drunkenly danced.

Josh was being the friend-parent as he was going to drive the girls back to their home.

"YN, what are you doing?" The group of four was disrupted by a man hovering over YN.

He stood about six feet tall, his eyes glaring into hers as he gripped on her wrist tightly. Fingertips digging into her skin along with the metal of his rings.

"Hey, hey back off!" Josh stepped in.

"Stay away!" The man warned Josh as she kept staring at YN.

She seemed completely defeated and weak. In surprise you can say? Maybe? Or she was scared? Maybe?

"What do you think you're doing?" He started dragging her to the side, to the stairs which led to the VIP section.

"Hey, where are you taking my friend?" Kayla fought with him, hitting his arms, but one glare from him as she was made quiet as well. Julia was holding onto YN for her dear life.

"Harry, please you're hurting me." YN muttered looking at the man stood infront of her.

Well, he wasn't holding onto her hand that harshly, her skin being very sensitive it was going to be red within matter of minutes. It was her survival instincts kicking in to use the puppy eyes-card. It worked as Harry loosened his grip on her wrist. He slipped the palm of his hand onto hers intertwining his fingers with hers.

It was a bit uncomfortable with his rings but the first time she held hand with him in a long time, YN realised.

"Come on, I'm taking you to your place now." He told to her.

"Oi, no she's not going anywhere with you." Julia warned Harry.

"Look, I know you're worried for your friend bit I know her, she knows me." Harry spoke calmly. "I will drop her back home, I promise."

YN's friends' are smart, even if they ask her, she's not in the right mind to give them a sensible answer. They wouldn't believe her if she said she knew this man, she's that drunk with just two shots one red wine later.

"YN do you know him?" Julia asked. At least one of the girl is not drunk her ass off, tipsy perhaps.

"Mhmm, I do know him." YN nodded. It's the truth.

YN have known Harry for little over six months now. They're great acquaintance, one of them would like to say.

"Now come on." Harry ushered her closely.

"No, I'm not letting her go!" Julia and Kayla clung onto her.

......................................................................

Back in Harry's SUV, YN sat with her friends. One was dozing off and one was glaring daggers at him through the rare view mirror as he was seated on the passenger side.

He had made an alliance that he'll take YN to her place and her friends can see she's safe and sound themself.

All three of her friends had followed her upstairs to her flat, until she was safe there. Well, her friends live there too, so they were off to bed as well.

"YN what the hell were you thinking tonight?" Harry shut the door to YN's bedroom. She stumbled towards her bed. "You said you never drink!"

"Until tonight." She pointed out, slurring on her words.

"You know you can't drink YN," he was being his calm self as he took off YN's shoes for her, "you know-"

"Stop it!" She snapped, "I know what I can and cannot do, okay? I don't want you telling me that as well. I'm trying my best!"

"I know you are, love." He cooed reaching for her carefully, "I know you are. I just want you to be careful."

"I know." She nodded. Her eyes getting teary all of a sudden.

You must be wondering, why and how YN knows Harry?

Well, she was to be a surrogate to his child, yeah...

Well, she still is, but she doesn't have a fetus in her womb.

YN was in one of those desparate panic situation when she had heard a few of the girls gossiping in her cafeteria she worked at about surrogacy. How some rich people pay the surrogate a amount for giving them a baby. How they can make hundreds and thousands even.

It usually just requires a surrogate to lend her womb, with a embryo made up from the egg and sperm from expecting parents is transferred to her uterus and she carries the baby to the full term.

Well, that seemed like more of an amazing option than taking up a third job and risk failing her classes she took out loans for. It would be over if nice months!

Well, not until it was Harry who approached her. He'd be a single parent which would mean the baby would be hers as well.

Now, she's one of the old school girls (according to many now-a-days). She wants her own kids!

At first, she refused to help him. No way, she was going to up and leave a child which would part hers biologically as well. Well, until her step-mother called saying her father needs a surgery, it is very crucial for his health.

There was no way they could pay for the surgery. And the hospital refused to go further with the procedure without the payment. That was one of the many bad and corrupt shit she hated about her country.

She had two options again, risk failing her PhD, or go give this man a child and never see it again.

In the moment all she could think about was her father. She had an amazing relationship with her dad.

She can have more kids, but she's got just one dad.

Saying, fuck all; she went head first into this. Especially when Harry was surprisingly ready to sign her a blank cheque if needed.

Harry being the millionaire he is, made her sign a contract that the child's sole custody would be his and she can not see the baby, or she's just have six months if she willingly decides she wants to breast feed the baby. It had many more conditions like those.

Everything moved very fast, there was an embryo transfer into her uterus. She was pregnant. The process was very exhausting for her.

But she had a miscarriage about six weeks ago.

YN had to promise herself not to get attached to the clump of cells growing inside her, but who can control their feelings? It hit her more than just being in physical agony.

There were chances where it would have happened but she wasn't clearly prepared for it. Whereas Harry was.

He seemed so nutral to her when she had seen him at the ER where he'd rushed her to. Or maybe it was the medications she was on which were making her feel drowsy that she couldn't read his face.

You see, Harry is like a closed book kinda man to her.

He doesn't like answering to her questions. All her answers were in the contract he made her sign he said. She wasn't to ask him any personal questions. He knew everything about her, whilst she didn't know shit.

"I didn't mean to loose the baby." She tried not to cry in front of him. "I really didn't."

"I know you didn't, YN." Harry was undoing her shoe laces as he slipped off her foot.

"I shouldn't have gotten attached to it like it was furst decided. I was hoping it would, it would..." She sighed, "you know... I should've kept my old job and stayed the fuck back home. I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, look at me?" He looked up at her from where he was crouched in front of her, "I know, everything that happened wasn't on purpose, okay? This has much higher risk of failing. There's nothing you and I or the doctors can do to prevent from happening a hundred percent."

"I'll return you your money, I promise. And I'll do it again in a heartbeat." She sniffled, "I'll pay you back. With interest, I, I-"

"I'm not asking for it back, YN." He interrupted her as she slipped off her other shoe off her foot, "I need you to lie down now, okay? Lemme get you some water."

As Harry walked out, he found her friends stood in the hallway glaring at him, yet they all seemed confused. With his head down he made a quick walk to kitchen to get YN a bottle was water.

"Here drink this," he kept the bottle of water on her side table, "you have an appointment tomorrow at two, better fix that hangover by them."

"Oi, hello!" She scoffed, "watch your tone, huh! I'll rip that stupid tongue of yours out with tweezers and chop them into pieces and feed them to the stray dogs!"

Okay, that made Harry laugh...

"Yeah?" He chuckled. "You don't stray dogs in your neighborhood, darling. Now change up and go to bed, I'll have Jeremy come pick you up tomorrow."

"You are so fucking mean bruh!" She rolled her eyes, "have you ever talked to me nicely since we met? And I am supposed hand you over my baby!"

"Good night, YN." His voice was monotonous.

She just glared at him. More like a puppy face as he left her room shutting the door behind him. And she was already hating the way alcohol was making her feel.

......................................................................

"Are you dying? Why was he talking about hospital appointment?" Was Julia's first questions as they say YN down for an interrogation the next morning.

"What?" Josh stopped the girl, "who was that guy YN?"

"Why was he being bossy around you?" Kayla asked.

"Is he in the mafia, did you take a loan from him?" Julia seemed more intrigued by being concerned.

"Why was saying you're not supposed to drink?" Josh was being the parent of the group he is.

"Did you accidentally marry him? Or is Julia is right? Did you take a loan from him?"

The questions were coming from left, right, front and back which infuriated YN.

"Stop it!" She snapped, "no, I did not marry him, and yes I kinda did take a loan from him. And no, unfortunately I am not dying Julia! If I were, you'd be the first one invited to my funeral for celebration!"

"You don't celebrate on..." Julia was interrupted by Josh.

"Then who the fuck is this Harry guy?" He asked.

"Apparently he owns the bar we were at." Kayla shared.

"What the fuck!" YN almost spat out her black coffee she was drinking to cure her headache there. She couldn't sleep whole night as she felt like puking every time she lied down. She doesn't want to die choking on her own puke for god's sake! And here she was hit by the thought Harry might be richer than she thinks. That's the forth bar she had heard he own, plus a huge ass fashion label.

"Yeah!" Kayla deadpanned, "now who is he? YN you're scaring us!"

"He's just..." YN sighed, "I am to be a surrogate to his child. He's paying me for it."

"Hold the fuck up!" Julia almost screamed, "you're having a baby?"

"Julia, that's all you gather from this?" Josh sighed in defeat, "YN we want you to explain what the fuck in happening. You know you can share it with us."

"Yeah, we're your family here, darling." Kayla cooed as he reached for YN's hand carefully, knowing her mum can be a bitch sometimes and ninety-nine per cent of the times she was behind YN taking so much stress.

That was the last straw for YN. And the dam to her tears broke as she spilt her sob story in front of her friends.

"...My mother knows about this, and she blamed it on me saying I couldn't keep a baby alive inside of me, I wouldn't be able to take care of my dad!" She started sobbing at the end.

"YN, you could have asked us." Kayla suggested, "I certainly wouldn't have mind helping you out love."

"I can't, you've been saving up for your new place and your wedding. I just can't." YN shook her head.

"Why didn't you tell me then?" Julia butted in.

"Jay, I can't ask for financial help from you guys. I don't want to ruin our friendship." YN explained.

"It won't." Julia deadpanned.

"I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't share your problems with us." Josh said, "please, let us know and we'll see if we can figure it out together."

"Yeah, that's what friends are for!" Kayla agreed, of course.

"You're going to pregnant during Convocation!" Julia reminded her.

"Yeah." Josh surprisingly agreed with her on this.

"Our finals are in two months, and I'm still not pregnant. And convocation is a month later. I'll be fine." YN explained. "But I'll be pregnant on your wedding day, Kayla, I'm sorry."

"Hey, no!" Kayla scolded her, "you don't have to apologise to be. You're still going to be my bridesmaid like I asked you to. I don't care even if you're eight months pregnant, okay?"

"Okay!" YN nodded.

......................................................................

Harry on the other hand was getting ready to call it a day at work.

His office was a mess. It reminded him of his dorm rooms. He can keep his house clean but not his office. Checking his phone for time he found he's got an hour left till he has to be at the hospital with YN.

He started gathering his files and documents layed around, separating everything into two piles, of job done and pending pile so he can later give those back to his secretary.

He found a grey knock off branded Adidas jerkin. He couldn't help but chuckle.

It was YN's. It was left in his car on accident when he'd dropped her off back home from the day she had to be rushed to the hospital. Even in pain she was worried about her jacket there.

It was a very chaotic day.

"YN, tell me where you coat is for god's sake!" Harry was subtly panicking watching her roll on her rug in pain. He had checked the coat closet but he didn't find anything there. Even her roommates were not home.

"I don't-" she stopped, "motherfucker!" She was hammering the floor with her fist as she was curled up in a ball. "I can't, I can't, I can't!"

"Hey, YN!" He crouched next to her to give her a quick pep talk but he saw a grey jerkin hung on the bag hanger in her room, he grabbed it and her as well. "I'm taking you to the hospital okay? It's okay. It's okay." The last it's okay was for himself.

"No, don't take that one!" She protested seeing him drape her jerkin on her shoulders.

"YN you need to go to hospital now, you can worry about that later." He shushed her down.

Harry had carefully helped her in his car as he asked his driver to rush to the nearest hospital. Whilst YN wasn't screaming on top of her lungs, she was doing a good job at keeping herself as calm as possible. She had shrugged off the jerkin draped on her shoulders as she was sweating crazy, even with the car AC on blast.

She was mumbling something to herself. Some self assuring words maybe?

But Harry was sure what was happening. Whilst it did broke his heart as they were just mere two weeks away from being able to get the first ultrasound, he wouldn't lie his hopes were not high. And as much as he think he doesn't care, he's still a human and he knows that she doesn't have her full heart into this. He doesn't want to make her feel pressured. Plus he expected thing to go smoothly.

As expected, YN was taken care of. Lost the baby obviously. She seemed devastated when he found her laying there, crying and staring at the ceiling. IV needle suck on her hand as a beeping machine was hooked her pointer finger. She was dressed in a hospital gown there.

She slipped whilst deep cleaning her bedroom causing her to crash into the side table, straight on her stomach and then straight on her butt. That's all YN could remember, she said before she passed out. Apparently she hit her head as well and woke up with shooting pain in her abdomen. It was already eating YN alive. Only if she could have been more careful!

"Jeremy went and got you food." He said keeping the bag of food on the little table.

Lie, it was him who went to get the food whilst he sent Jeremy to run some errands for him. He's got a heart afterall!

"I'm not hungry." Her voice sounded watery.

"You can eat whenever you wish." He shared, "feeling any better now?"

And there was a knock on the door, it was a nurse who'd came to check on her. He got to know he could take her home by midnight or in the morning if they wish to stay overnight. YN insisted on going back home as she couldn't stand the smell of the hospital cleaning solutions and shit.

She was almost half asleep, her head in his shoulder when Harry brought her back to her flat. She insisted that she could go in alone and take care of herself as one of her roommate was home. She had kept a condition in from of him, that her friends can't know about this. He respected that.

When he went back to work the next day, that was when Jeremy went upto him and handed in the jerkin he found in the car as it was off for cleaning and service. And the piece of clothing is lying in his office since then.

But he regrets not ever texting her let alone call her to check in. He felt terrible about it and his therapist had to hear it all that week. And he was stuck in the traffic so it took him entire thirty minutes to get to her place when she called him crying in agony.

She had shut him off since that day. Shouldn't bother him, but it does.

Her constant curiosity kept him entertained honestly. Especially her random texts at three in the morning asking about a random claus in their agreement.

Sighing, Harry grabbed his coat and YN's jerkin before he left his office. He took a cab to the hospital as he'd asked Jeremy to go pick up YN. She was already there and he was five minutes late.

"Is it our turn?" He asked as he rushed towards where Jeremy was keeping YN company as she clearly she looked hungover. She looked up at him surprised which confused him. "What?"

"Nothing." She shook her head, "we're two hours early."

"Oh." Was his reaction as took a seat next to YN. "Did you eat something?"

"I did." She nodded, "air. It was deliciously polluted today!"

"Hey!" He whined, "do you want to go grab something?"

"No." She looked down at her phone in her lap, her Instagram feed open. She put on one of her earphone and sat there scrolling through reels.

"Here, this was in my car the other day." He gave her back the jerkin. Which she took and put it on. He just sighed a slumped in his chair, watch her scroll through cat videos for about five minutes before his patience wore out. "Okay, come on we're going to eat. We'll be back before it's your turn."

"I am not hungry, Harry."

Harry just texted Jeremy to get some sandwiches, because honestly, he was hungry too. His chef is on a vacation and he can barely cook himself instant ramen noodles. He can't ask his housekeeper to help him out even though he's been offered help many times.

"I am really sorry about that night." He finally got her attention.

"Hmm?" She looked at him confusedly.

"That night after I dropped you off to your place." He reminded her, "I am so sorry I didn't even bother to check up on you. I feel very bad about that."

"It's okay." She shrugged, "I fell asleep as soon as I got home anyway. Would have slept through your call."

He just nodded and sat there in silence for a few more minutes. "You don't have to do this all over again if you don't want to, YN, we can just work it out. The agreement I mean."

"Ms. YN YLN?" One of the nurse announced. "You're next."

"Okay, thank you." YN nodded.

Maybe the person before her cancelled or couldn't make it. They still had an hour and half of wait but they got lucky. The appointment went smoothly. They could go through the process of planting another embryo. YN was doing very well physically, apart from her hang over. And they did went through with the process that day.

YN went in alone this time, where as Harry got to be there with her that time.

She was nervous, as expected. But she didn't wanted to ask him, reading by her obvious body language he asked if he could go in with her. To which she hesitantly agreed to.

"It's going to be alright." He assured her, "it hardly takes five minutes, if my research is accurate. You don't have to feel stressed."

"You're making me more stressed!" She whined. The doctor ran her through what was going to happen, step by step before starting everything was prepared for the procedure.

She looked more tense as the moment went by. Harry who was sat next to her on the little chair, slipped his palm onto her, lacing his fingers through hers. Her hand was a bit sweaty and very warm, and how he wished he heard doctor talk about what was happening. His mind went all fuzzy the moment she held his hand back tightly.

"Ready?" Doctor Wilson asked. Harry was back to earth there, he looked at the lady in the scrubs wearing a hair cap and surgical gloves.

"Yes." YN nodded. "Don't look!"

"I wasn't." He could help but chuckle, he turned his back to what was happening. He felt her squeeze onto his hand tighter, her eyes shuttered closed. "It's okay." He whispered to her, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles gently.

"All done!" Dr. Wilson announced. And YN let out the breathe she didn't know she was holding in.

That was that. Maybe she had no idea what would happen and this time around she does. He just feels shut down.

Well, when have he opened upto her? It was fair enough.

But when he saw her again, she was stressed out.

They had managed to make just six embryos, which meant only three tries. YN was feeling too guilty about loosing the baby (or babies). Harry was splurging so much money after this. IVF is very fucking expensive.

Yes, he might be a millionaire but YN still couldn't wrap her mind around how he was ready to spend so much for a baby. Babies are expensive as well. She had so many questions she couldn't ask him.

Why doesn't he want to wait till he's found a partner? Why doesn't he opt for adoption instead? Why does he want a baby when he's got such a busy schedule? How will he be able to give the child his time when he's so busy all the time?

Of course she would worry about a baby. Especially if it was hers too!

Jeremy was going to drop YN off to her place as she had a day off before driving Harry back to work. But he'd gotten her a sandwich which she was in desparate need of. The car ride for the first fifteen minutes was silent. Jeremy doing his job, whilst Harry had a face which screamed he wants to say something but he was holding back. And YN was eating her sandwich.

"Oh my god, Jeremy this sandwich is amazing!" She squealed in excitement, "I'll pay you back I promise when in back home, thank you so much!"

"Don't worry about it, Ms. YLN." The man giggled.

"YN?" Harry called for her.

"Hmm?" She looked at him. As if Jeremy knew, he pressed the button to pull up the privacy divider on which confused YN.

"You don't have to do it again if this time doesn't work as well." He said, "don't want it taking toll on your physical and mental health."

"But I'd feel too guilty, Harry. Thirty thousand pounds is not a small amount. Especially for me, and I honestly don't know if I would be able to pay you back that amount in this life time." YN shared.

It was set clear in her mind. She would somehow pay him back if it doesn't work out. That would mean her paying him back with an annual interest. And that was just the money he'd signed on the cheque which went to her not including the hospital bills minus the procedure fees. She owed him a big time monetarily.

It was either she give him a baby or his money back. She's very stubborn.

"You don't have to YN." He assured her, "consider it as me helping you. It's alright." That rubbed off wrong on her. Maybe he could have worded it another way.

"Helping me as my what?" She asked, pissed, "as my friend? As an acquaintance? Or as a person who's doing some charity work? This is exactly why I never wanted to talk to my friends about this!"

"YN, that's not what I-"

"Stop it Harry, I've been trying to be nothing but nice to you, okay? You're pissing me off now. I have no business in even interacting with you for this." Her eyes pooling up with tears behind her glasses. "How you're going to take care of this child when you're always busy is eating me alive. I don't even know why you want a baby so bad to put my mind at ease." She proceeded to knock on the privacy divider, "Jeremy? Please stop the car."

"I'm sorry, you don't to worry about that, YN. I promise." He rushed.

"Fine." She nodded in agreement, "please don't contact me until the next hospital appointment." She grabbed her bag and left his car. They were still five drive away from her place.

......................................................................

Harry did just that.

The next appointment was in a six weeks. Every weekend, his therapist heard about it all, about how he feels so bad for everything, and how much of an asshole he is.

Well, he can at least try to be friends with her.

At first he thought she was in it for money because she denied him but went back to him. But if she was, she wouldn't go on and on about wanting to return every penny he's given her if this is not successful at all. And knowing her, he's sure her stubborn ass would do anything if she has enough time on her hand.

She made him change up two main claus in their contract. He wanted her to stay at his place, and not work in the last trimester. He'd do anything as long as he can make sure his future child was safe and sound. Especially since none of her friends would know about it. Her family is a different country. And he can't really controll what she does and doesn't want to do.

But lately he's feeling like he's buying a baby like it's some sort of toy. What can he do? He looked for adoption first, for whole two years but he was never in the top 10 preferences for them to even consider him as a good adoptive parent, even though he's got all the financial needs. He's got many god children, but he wants a little one to give all the love he's got in himself. At first he so wanted to adopt a child, but it wasn't in his luck.

YN was right, he's got minimal time out of work. He'd just bought a new bar as an investment. How was he going to take care of a child?

He sees her again today!

Hopefully everything will be alright. He hears some good news, or at least gets to rekindle with her and actually be friends.

She's very sweet.

Yeah, sarcasm is her second language (mainly when he's managed to piss her off or something) but oh boy is she so fucking sweet and adorable!

He saw her stood there by the entrance of his office building with Jeremy and the security guard. She was all chirpy and chatty today, holding onto a Tupperware container.

"Mr. Styles, how you doing today?" Jeremy spoke, exaggerating, he's seen Harry today already.

"I'm good Jeremy, thank you, and what about you?" Harry player along, watching YN's smile drop. "What's that?" He asked pointing at the Tupperware in YN's hands.

"Oh it's -"

Jeremy was interrupted by YN, "its is nothing. Jer, let's go now shall we?"

"Jer? That's new." Harry chuckled.

"Oh I'm afraid sir, you won't get it, it's a best friend thing." Jeremy said, opening the back door for him.

Harry usually slides in first so he did. He expected YN to get in as well but she hopped in the front seat. The entire drive to the hospital, Harry watched Jeremy andy YN talk and laugh, they had plans of catching up over some dinner tonight. Feeling left out and a ting of anger he slumped in his seat and pretended to scroll through his phone. Once at the hospital, YN walked in first.

"Jeremy do I have to remind you are married?" He whispered to his driver/ bodyguard.

"You don't have to sir." Jeremy smiled, "but I know she's old enough to be my daughter."

Harry coughed feeling embarrassed as he sped walked inside, following after YN.

Harry you snooze you loose, he taunted himself. She's already got another best friend!

"Hey," he said quietly as he approached YN sat on one of the benches in the waiting room.

"Thirty minutes of wait." She said.

"I, I know." He stuttered, "I, I wanted to ask, ummm... ask how are you?" And she just shrugged.

"My dad's fine." She shared, "almost fine I should say. His surgery was successful, he's back home and recovering."

"That's great news!" He exclaimed, slowly though, they're at a hospital.

"Mhmm." She nodded, "thanks to you. He, uhhh... he really needed it to make it. And..." He grabbed her bag from the chair next to hers and shuffled through her stuff, "sorry I had to shove my stuff back is after my class. Where is it?" Harry watched her struggle to find what he didn't know. Finally, she pulled out a notebook which had a paper in it handing over to him.

"What's this?" He flipped the paper around. It was a Cheque of Fifteen thousand pounds in his name. "What's this for?"

"Saved up!" She smirked proudly, "my friend's brother works at the hospital my dad was admitted in, he handled the insurance stuff so we only had to pay half of everything. I don't need this so I'm returning it, I need time to return the other half though."

"YN, I told you, you don't have to." He tried place the cheque back in her book.

"Keep it!" She warned him, packed up her stuff quickly. "I'll still help you Harry, and I'm going to trust that you're going to take very good care of this baby."

"You can trust me." He still assured her. His eyes brim up with tears so let his head down so she doesn't see him crying.

"Harry?" He felt her hand on his bicep which made him hitch, "you alright?" Warmth of her hand was gone within a second.

"Mhmm." He nodded, still sniffling on his tears. "I am, I am fine."

"Hey, it's gonna be okay!" She cooed, still sitting at a distance from him.

......................................................................

Harry was a second close to peeing his pants as he sat there patiently whilst the nurse was getting the blood work done, YN was sent to take generic pregnancy test.

"Wha— what happened?" He rushed as he saw YN walk back into the room they were asked to wait in.

"I don't know." She shrugged and watched him slump back into ghe chair. "I think it is going to come out positive." She took a seat on check up bed, next to the ultrasound equipment.

"How do you know?" He asked and she just shrugged again.

Okay, she isn't going to sit there and tell him she's missed her period which is a good thing. He can put two and two together himself when the results are handed over, just hope he was good at Maths in school.

It was few minutes later when doctor arrived with the blood work reports and the best news. It was a different doctor and not Doctor Wilson. And the nurse named Willow, who was in-charge of the blood work.

The new doctor was a handsome fella. Tall, blue eyes, beefy biceps and all that. Everything to make HARRY insecure. Why insecure? He didn't know. But oh boy was Harry feeling this weird (and negative) feeling in the pit of his stomach as YN interacted with him.

"Congratulations, the tests are positive!" Doctor announced as he took a seat on the chair next to the check up bed. "I apologise for not introducing myself, I am Doctor Mike Jones, Dr. Wilson is on a vacation so by the time she returns I'll be helping her patients. Please don't hesitate to ask any questions you have." YN nodded at him with a smile. He proceeded to go into details about the blood work and what was good and what could potentially be risks.

"By the reports we can tell you're about eight weeks in, that means we can get the ultrasound done." Dr. Jones shared as he stood back up, "I'll leave for a moment whilst nurse Willow runs you down with the procedure."

"Yeah, thank you doc." YN nodded.

Least to say, Harry was happy seeing the little grainy pulse on the screen. He was excited to go tell his mum and sister about it all. He was excited to finally start preparing for the baby to come.

Last time, he couldn't celebrate. Though he doubts he could right now. He should wait a little bit longer now. Maybe next eight weeks or so...

He can at least share it with his mum, right!

"Oh my god!" He gasped softly seeing the little heart beat on the screen. His sight blurring up with tears, "they're so tiny!" He looked at YN in excitement grabbing onto her hand.

"Let's listen to the heart beat now." Dr. Jones said.

The little rapid beats of distorted heart beats almost took Harry's breath away. He wanted to scream and sob in excitement. The rest of it was boring yet important stuff. Measuring of the fetus, looking for any potential complications which there seemed none in that moment.

Oh and there was just one baby.

On the way back to YN, the car ride was silent. She was sat in the back seat next to him this time. He noticed her take out the Tupperware container from her bag.

"Congratulations!" She smiled and offered him the sweets.

"Oh, he's lactose intolerant!" Jeremy joked which YN was unaware of that.

"What?" She looked at him, "I'm sorry you can't have this."

"Come on, Jeremy!" Harry groaned, "I am not lactose intolerant YN he just likes to joke around."

"You still want these then?" She suggested.

"I'm good, thank you." He politely declined, "and thank you... for helping me."

"Nuh-uh! You know we celebrate with sweets in India. I got these for Jeremy 'cause I got to know my dad is out of hospital now, healthy and fine. We heard another good news here." She shared, "this is just a little celebration, about everything slowly getting back together."

"Yup!" Jeremy sounded from the driver's seat.

"You knew about this?" Harry was surprised.

"Of course I know sir, my wife is Indian."

"Okay..." He sounded stretching the word, he took one piece of whatever sweets it was and ate it, "what is that?"

"It's made of cottage cheese and flour, it's called Gulab jamun." She explained. "It's my favourite. I made it last night as I craving it, it's pain in ass to make but oh my god it's so good! Right, Jeremy?"

"My wife says the same thing, YN." Jeremy chuckled, "everytime she tries to make it, it turns out awful. According to her, not me."

And these started talking again making Harry left out again, but he zoned out. Harry has never been so confused about his feelings thus far. He's been trying very hard to stay away from her emotionally, but she makes it hard not to when she's telling him exactly what she's feeling. It's annoyingly good.

"I'll take the train Jeremy, don't worry about it." YN caught Harry's attention, they had reached her place.

"Wait, train to where?" He asked.

"To Jeremy's..." YN answered confusedly, "he's invited me for dinner at his."

"Why, why are you taking the train?" He rushed panicking, "I, I mean he can pick you up right? Right, Jeremy?"

"I can perfectly manage to go on my own, Harry." She shrugged, "and he's your employee not mine, it's just rude to ask him to pick me up."

"But, he's been taking you to the hospital whenever I ask him too."

"Yeah, because it's your work he's doing. I am not going to ask him to do anything for me." She shrugged.

"Okay, can you kids not argue about this?" Jeremy spoke up, "I'll pick you up YN no worries."

"No, you don't have to Jeremy," YN was glaring at Harry sat next to her, "I know exactly why he's saying this. I don't know why you still went for me if you don't trust me anymore. Could have started over for all you care. I quit trying to be friends with you, for good now." With that he's had YN barging out of his car again. "You need therapy. You need help!" With that she slammed the car door shut.

"You should go talk to her." Jeremy suggested, "you know she's one of the nicest person I've come across so I have to put in good word for her. I know it's hard for you to trust anyone, but you can trust her. She's a good friend."

Harry nodded and got out of the car, "I'll go talk to her."

"I'm going to take a cab home, you can bring her over for dinner." Jeremy handed him the car keys.

"Okay, thank you." He gave Jeremy a quick hug before he was running into the building.

......................................................................

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[gavisuntiedboot]

Being in bed with Gavi…

Not in the sexual way - in the actual let’s go to sleep way.

Sleep was a blessing, but not one bestowed upon you very often. Whenever the sun has fully set your body wound itself up, coiled and stressed, and the later it got the more awake you felt. Physical exhaustion was never enough to get you to drift off. Your entire existence would feel heavy, like walking with bags of sand tied to both ankles. Laying in bed at night was your least favorite activity. Tossing and turning under sheets that were too hot in a room that was too cold. Melatonin was a scam. It knocked you out once and never again, and yet you still popped a gummy into your moth before getting under the covers, hoping to start associating the taste with a good night of rest. It never happened. The worst part was the way your mind would switch on every time your eyes fluttered shut. Thoughts of everything you have done - everything you should be doing - playing in rapid succession, until your chest got tight and your breathing got hard and you went back to scrolling until sleep took you for 2 or 3 hours.

Pablo was peace. His fiery nature was like his shirt: something he could strip off before getting into bed with you. From the moment he stepped through the bedroom door there was never any anger. He filled the room with a sense of calm that could never be replicated by a drug. As always he wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling into your neck and just remaining there , wordless, the sound of his rhythmic breathing lulling you into relaxation. Pablo was at peace when you were in his arms. He would strip back the covers and climb into bed, always patiently waiting for you to join him. Personal space didn’t exist here - he had to have you against him, skin to skin, the physical touch reminding him that you’re there (hopefully) for good.

Everything slowed whenever you got under the covers with Pablo. Like swimming through honey. His strong arms wrapped around you, securing You, grounding you. The past and future paled in comparison to the present of Pablo’s arms, Pablo’s touch. The smell of him was addictive. Breathing him in was dangerous in the most wonderful ways, as his scent filled your lungs and traveled through you, filling every cell in your body with him. Most nights the two of you laid the same way: you sprawled across him, your head on his chest as he embraced you, pulling you closer throughout the night. The beating of Pablo’s heart and the warmth of his skin made your eyelids feel heavy. Some nights he would take your hand in his, placing it against his chest, with a reminder that you were the reason that his heart beat at all. He would run his fingers along your arm and back, the faint touches raising your skin. It was in these moments, when you were seconds from slipping out of consciousness that Pablo would look at you, sleep and adoration filling his eyes to the brim. He would stoke your hair and plant the softest of kisses in your forehead.

“Mi vida”

It was always the last thing you heard before you fell asleep. Properly asleep without waking in the middle of the night in cold tremors. Pablo would feel his heart swell, admiring your sleeping face while already missing the soft beauty of your eyes. He was the gold glimmering aura that filled your room and your soul. You cling to his chest in your sleep, fearing you’d wake up and discover that Pablo, your angel of rest, had been a figment if your imagination. But he was real. And everything be was with others - aggressive, strong, forceful - didn’t exist with you. He was gentle with you because he wanted to be. Soft whispers and loving embraces. He had everything in the world when you laid on his chest, sleeping peacefully and soundly at last. And his chest would tighten at the thought of having you there, pressed against him and at peace, for the rest of his life. And you would never know, but it was the thought of you, the weight of you against his chest, the feel of your skin against his fingertips, the smell of of your hair filling all of his senses, that helped Pablo sleep soundly through the madness. You are his peace.

A/N: every time I hear the song “touch tank” or “kiss me” I think of Gavi. I hope i dream about this. May you all get to fall asleep listening to a heart that beats only for you. Have a wonderful night/day and tysm for over 500 followers. I love you all.

[laurrrelise]

✧ Assisting the Arrogant ✧

Derek Danforth x fem reader :)

^ (i listened this song endlessly while writing this so i thought i’d include it)

✧ Word Count: 3.9k

✧ Summary: You are the assistant to Derek Danforth, a disgustingly cocky, selfish billionaire with no sense of consequences. After you’re hired by his mother to help him with work and keep him out of trouble when Wallace Westwyld quits, it only takes one glance at the man to see it’s an impossible task. Still, you need the money she promises to pay, so it’s worth a shot…right?

✧ Tags: Derek Danforth x fem reader, super slow burn, mentions of drug use and prostitution, no pre-established relationship, no smut (yet, hopefully), angst, enemies to lovers, somewhat fluff, mature content (esp. going forward), Derek has mommy issues, reader has daddy issues, derek is literally just a sassy bastard the whole time

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You just want to live an alright life.

You had just alright grades in high school. Just alright friends. You want an alright job so you apply to an alright college. You naturally get in, opting to take online courses since your small apartment downtown is pretty far from any half-decent schools. You like being downtown, not in a huge city. You’re only a few hours away from Boston, but you’ve only been there once.

Your parents are huge political junkies. Your mom passed away a few years back, leaving your only direct family to be your dad, who generally sucks. He’s emotionally unavailable and prioritizes work over you. He always has, and it’s pretty safe to say that he always will. However, he accidentally found you a job. You weren’t even slightly interested when he reached out for the first time in over a year, but began to listen when he mentioned Jessica Danforth. The actual fucking president of the United States?

Yeah. That one.

Somehow, your dad knows her assistant. Said something about the woman herself looking for a glorified babysitter for her 28-year-old son, who is, in her eyes, essentially a failure. Derek Danforth, the billionaire CEO. Successful in some respects, of course. However, his worst, and dominating qualities, tend to be the fact that he’s an alcoholic and an addict who’s constantly doing illegal shit, and he’s generally an idiot. For fuck’s sake, he has a different prostitute with him each night and half of the time he livestreams everything to his crypto-obsessed billionaire friends. No wonder that Westwyld guy quit. It might have also been in part due to the fact that a seemingly sadistic, self-claiming “beekeeper” tried to kill Derek after he had a scandal surrounding an illegal scamming company go public, but who’s to say? Even without that whole situation, trying to keep this guy out of trouble seemed like a task that no one would even consider taking up.

Yet here’s Jessica, offering so much money that you would never have to work a 9-5 for the rest of your life to live comfortably. The guy’s an idiot, but he’s got to be harmless.

She proposes the idea of an assistant. You’ll help Derek at work (if that’s even what you want to call it) and discourage his bad decisions in his personal life. Maybe, in her eyes, having a pretty girl with her eyes and ears on him at all times will help him change and wipe her own reputation clean. You’d stay with Derek in his mansion in order to keep track of his behaviors closely and get paid more than handsomely to do so. Even with the scandals, who wouldn’t agree to do it?

So, of course, you do. Your dad is pleased, hoping it’ll boost his position, but you couldn’t care less. You want the money.

Jessica schedules a couple of calls with you, briefing you over Derek’s past and what his immediate future may look like. It’s complicated and, for a lack of better words, grimy. However, it doesn’t change the paycheck, so you nod along and smile politely. Filled with anxiety over her son’s future, she tells you that she’ll send a car to your apartment to escort you to Boston, where Derek resides, in about a week. You make your arrangements, careful to take account of anything that would be important to this huge change making its way into your life.

When the car shows up late on a summer afternoon, you’re somehow surprised to find that it’s a beautiful black limousine, accompanied by chauffeurs in suits who take your bags and open the doors for you. You try to relax, but it’s nearly impossible to not be anxious. A billionaire. With a disgusting attitude. Multiple people quit their handsomely-paying jobs because of him. It’s too much. Yet somehow, it feels like not enough. That is, until you arrive on the streets of Boston, your jaw dragging the ground as the mansions you pass reflect off of your eyes.

It’s sort of ridiculous. Some people just have too much money. Yet, somehow your pupils couldn’t be pried away from the luxurious homes.

You anxiously begin scanning the house in front of you as the car makes a turn into its driveway. This is the one? This is your new home? Where you’re going to be living?

The house’s size makes you feel nauseous. You’re going to get lost in this place every 5 minutes. You pray to God Derek has maps of the layout.

It’s surreal, to say the least.

The chauffeurs open your door as you step out of the vehicle, mouth continuing to hang open in awe. You’re never going to be able to adjust to living here. They carry your bags to the doorstep, waving you a friendly goodbye as you stand in front of the dark double doors. You raise your hand to the wood in determination to get this reluctant interaction over with, but it hovers there. Your knuckles can’t even reach the surface of the door, your nervousness won’t allow it.

You take a deep breath, rapping your fist on it anyways. Your foot taps subconsciously as you try to keep yourself composed. Christ, you haven’t even met the man and somehow you’re already a mess.

The door opens suddenly. And Jesus, it’s certainly him.

His mother described him as “flashy” and “eccentric”. Were those the right terms? Who knows? The dark green and white checkered silk button-up, unbuttoned halfway, revealing his dark chest hair, tucked into retro white flared pants hanging over dark brown cowboy boots. A shimmering diamond earring attached to his left ear, a thin diamond chain on his neck. Dark brown hair with frosted tips, curls styled meticulously.

A cigarette perfectly fits in the crack of his lips, his displeased expression only making your anxiety double as his eyes scan from your shoes to your head. You can’t say anything. Your voice ceases to exist. Unfortunately, his doesn’t.

“Can I help you?” His flat, unbothered tone is annoying, to say the least. His eyes land on the few bags at your feet, his brows lowering in a confused expression.

You swallow, trying to crack out a sentence. “Hi, I’m your new assistant? You’re… Derek, right?”

He pulls the cigarette from his lips, blowing smoke into your face. “What do you think?” he asks, sarcasm overriding any possible signs that he could be attempting politeness.

“I think you probably are.” You try to give him a smile, but he simply crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe.

“I don’t need an assistant. And I certainly never hired one.”

You glance at your feet, your nervousness drowning you in shivers as you try to figure out how to respond. She didn’t even tell him I was coming? Goddamn it.

“Your, uh… your mom hired me.” You try to smile again, and it’s met with a subtle scowl.

“She would‘ve told me if she hired an assistant.”

“Yeah, I thought so, too. But I gues-“

He shoves a hand in your face, cutting you off as he pulls out his phone to call someone and slams the door in your face. You hear muffled yells, clearly coming from his mouth by the whiny yet cocky tone that again overrides any attempts for him to sound like a friendly, decent human being.

These are great signs, considering you’ll probably be staying with him for a few years if all goes well. Maybe you could fake an accident or something, get some way to make a situation seem like it’s out of your control completely and quit, but still get some of the money she promised.

This guy is already pushing every button you’ve got.

You hear a final muffled yell, followed by the door swinging open slowly. He glares at you, clearly not happy. You just stare at him, waiting for any signs that he might accept that this is out of his control and let you in.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer. Or, stop gawking and get your ass in here.” Judging by his tone, he’s beyond pissed. Great.

You pick up a couple of your bags, squeezing through the door as he stands there tapping his foot out of annoyance. You place down your bags just inside the door, walking back outside to grab the rest. After all of the belongings you had to pack up on a whim are set neatly just inside his front door, you finally get a look at the house.

Right in front of the door, there’s a huge gold water fountain. Because of course there is. In fact, half of the house is drenched in gold. There’s two golden railings surrounding each side of the large double staircases on either side of the fountain. There’s a gold grand piano in the corner, gold plant vases everywhere, a gold chandelier, and just about everything else was white. Touches of overdone cheetah print are on display everywhere. Of course, there’s a taxidermy cheetah rug on the ground in front of the door. Gross.

Is this all real gold?

You pause for a moment, rethinking your own thoughts.

Of course it is. It’s probably all solid gold. And it was probably “chump change”. This guy’s a billionaire, I have to remember that.

Derek closes the door, taking another puff of his cigarette and dropping it in a (who would’ve guessed?) gold ashtray by the door. He puts his hands on his hips, an annoyed expression filling his entire face as he looks you up and down again. “Alright, listen sweetheart. You’re my assistant. I don’t give a fuck what my mom is paying you. You’re going to listen to me. We got it?”

You nod, hiccuping out of nervousness. He turns, starting to make his way to the left staircase. “Fantastic. Let’s go.” Of course, he could offer to help you with your bags. Of course, he doesn’t.

He leads you to a large bedroom down the hall from the main foyer. It’s beautiful, truly, because it’s not completely painted in gold or animal print. It’s white, simple wood furniture dotting the room. There’s a desk, a walk-in closet, a dresser, a nightstand, a small sofa, and a huge plush bed. My twin size mattress really did need an upgrade, I suppose.

You place three of your bags on the desk as he leans against the wall, waiting for you to run back downstairs and grab the rest. You hurry, not wanting to make him any more upset than he already is, and turn to face him when you’re done.

“This is your room. My room is down the hall, but if you ever even think about waking me up, I will immediately fire you on the spot.”

You don’t even mean to speak, but the words fall out of your mouth like rebellious marbles. “Do you actually have the power to do that?” It’s regretful immediately.

He crosses his arms and steps closer in a menacing manner, leaning in with his gaze locked onto yours. "Honey, I have the power to do just about anything. Who said you could speak?" He scoffs and begins to pace angrily. However, his attitude is beyond irritating to you. You internally refuse to tolerate his behavior, especially if you’re going to be stuck with him for an indeterminable, but probably excruciatingly long, amount of time. He can't fire you — if he wanted to, he would have done it by now.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t speak to me that way, Mr. Danforth.” You croak out the words, trying to sound serious and intimidating but your breath is shaky and you sound downright terrified. Perfect, you think as he chuckles at your attempt.

“You wanna repeat that?” he asks, pulling out his vape. Christ, how much does this douchebag smoke?

You gulp, standing with your hands clasped together calmly. “I’d prefer if we kept a professional tone. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not. I’m not your indentured servant. I’m here to assist you and keep you out of trouble as much as possible. Do we have an understanding?” You hesitate for a minute, your eyes still locked with his. “If not, I have no problem giving your mother a call.”

He smirks, shaking his head with a condescending nature, but deep down, he knows you’re right. He can pretend all he wants, but you have the full power in this situation, and both of you know it. There’s only one thing Derek Danforth has a fear of, and it’s absolutely his mother.

You keep a straight face, trying to remain unfazed at his attitude as you wait for him to say something rude in response. However, he just looks at you annoyed, wearing a slight smirk, his vape filling his mouth with mango-flavored smoke.

“Don’t wake me up. Can you follow that simple rule, sweetheart? I’d prefer not to have any behavioral issues from you so soon,” he says with a condescending tone as he steps closer with his head tilted. You nod slowly, your face serious.

“Good. Now, I have personal chefs and maids. You’ll be at the dining table at 9:00 a.m. for breakfast, noon for lunch, and 7:00 p.m. for dinner. I couldn’t care less if you eat or not. You’re a big girl. You can take care of yourself, right?” His hand reaches up, hovering over your jawline as his fingers find the tip of your chin and lift your face to look him in the eyes.

Is he flirting with me right now? Does he hate me or not?

You give him a small smile. “Okay, got it.”

Releasing his grip on your chin, he leans against the wall with his arms crossed. “If you want your laundry done, you’ll have it in the black hamper in your closet by noon every Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday. Your room is deeply cleaned every day at 4 p.m. Don’t be in here at that time.” You nod again, trying to memorize all of the times. I’m going to have to write this all down.

Derek, with a certain reluctance evident in his every move, begrudgingly agrees to give you a tour of the house. It's clear that he absolutely detests every single minute of this forced interaction. In his mind, he is a lone wolf. He doesn't need anyone. The thought of having to rely on or even consider the opinions of anyone else when making critical decisions is something he finds deeply unsettling.

Most of the time, his stubbornness stems from the fact that he is acutely aware that he's making poor decisions even before he makes them. A part of him knows that these decisions should have consequences, but his pride prevents him from seeking guidance, especially when his status prohibits any harm or discomfort that should be given to him.

And yet, despite his best efforts to push you away, he can't get rid of you. So, he shows you around the house, his teeth grinding audibly in frustration. Each room that he leads you into is a testament to his unwillingness to let you in, but he does it nonetheless, each step a battle against his own nature.

He shows you the living room, dining room, main kitchen, various lounges, gym, theatre, laundry room, game room, bar, art studio, three-tiered garage, maid's quarters, secondary kitchen, indoor pool, sauna, spa, storage room, expansive backyard, private office, and all 18 bathrooms and bedrooms.

It's ridiculous. No one needs a house this big or with this many rooms. This guy probably doesn't even use most of them for months on end. However, when he shows you the library, it's a different story.

Derek is an idiot. There's not a chance in hell that he enjoys reading in his spare time. The room most likely functions just for his desperate lawyers to reference for the many times he's been taken to court. Yet, the library is beautiful, being roughly the size of your entire apartment building.

It has a main level and a wooden spiral staircase to the second level, which is open in the middle to allow for the gigantic chandelier hanging there. Dark wood and beige tones encase everything except for the books. And God, there are so many books. Hundreds of thousands, at least. An endless section for every thought that's ever crossed the human mind. Immediately, you know that almost every second of your spare time will be spent in this room, reading until your eyes pop out of your skull.

Your jaw nearly touches the ground as he barely acknowledges the library. It means nothing to him, there's no doubt about it. He's probably spent less than an hour in this room in the many years he's lived in this house. It almost feels like your heart is ripped out of your chest as he barely pokes his head in, mumbling almost inaudibly, "This is the library." It's so much more than that. Yet, you follow him out as he shows you back to your room.

"Alright, sweetheart, do me a favor and don't bother me. I'll be in the living room." He turns to leave, still annoyed, but you speak up.

"Wait! Uh- I'm supposed to be with you almost at all times… according to your mother. That's what she hired me for. To discourage your… bad decisions."

He turns, pivoting on the heel of his obnoxious cowboy boots as he glares at you. "Do I get bonus points if I pretend to care?"

You just look at him. "What are you doing right now? Can I assist you at all?"

He steps closer, taking another hit of his vape as he raises his eyebrows at you. "Oh, oh yeah. I need tons of help while I’m watching a movie and getting a shoulder massage. What do you think, honey?"

Looking at the ground, then back up at him, you say, "Can I watch it with you?"

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You sit in the living room, across from Derek as a woman massages his shoulders and arms. He still seems annoyed, not even trying to acknowledge you. His eyes are focused on the TV screen situated at the front of the large room, his hands leading another vape to his lips. You hesitantly place your feet, crossed, on the coffee table in front of you.

Derek shoots a look at your shoes, his teeth gritting together as he tries not to blow up at you, your actions seeming like a blatant form of disrespect. You notice his look and slowly pull your feet down, planting them again on the rug and turning your attention back to the movie. The room is oddly silent besides the sounds of the bizarre action movie he’d picked out.

This is weird. You two need to talk.

"So… I’ve never been a personal assistant before. What kind of stuff do you think you’ll need me to do?" He turns his head to look at you, eyes hanging half open with a dazed expression as smoke falls from his lips.

"I don’t need an assistant. I don’t even want one. I really couldn’t care less about what you do," he answers, bluntly. His gaze lingers on yours, long enough to make you uncomfortable. It seems like that might be a goal of his.

You stand up, walking to the large bay window and gazing at the beautiful backyard that looks like it goes on for miles. "Okay…" you continue, "what does your typical day look like?"

He brushes off the woman kneading his shoulders and sits up, running a couple of fingers through his curly frost-tipped hair and continuing to smoke. "Usually hungover. I don’t really eat breakfast. Head to the office, sign paperwork and eat lunch. More paperwork. Meetings. Head home, usually go to a party. Dinner. Escorts at night." You nod slowly, processing this information.

"Is all you do for work just signing papers and attending meetings?"

He nods, gazing out the window behind you. "That's most of it. I'm the man in charge of the finances and big decisions, and I hire people to handle the bullshit."

You sit back down across from him, looking back at the movie that’s still playing. "Gotcha… I guess… I can help arrange your schedule, then?"

He just shrugs, turning back to the screen. "Whatever makes you feel useful, sweetheart." He chuckles to himself obnoxiously, continuing, "You really are useless anyways.”

There’s an awkward silence as you process his cruel words. A full emptiness hangs between the two of you, drowning out your thoughts in static.

You hate his cocky attitude. More than that, you hate the fact that he doesn’t seem to care about anything or anyone other than himself.

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As you climb into bed later that night, you can only think about how this is all going to work. And also about how incredibly inviting Derek’s guest room bed is. Words can barely describe the feeling. Comfort isn't enough to label the softness surrounding your entire body.

You wish that comfort could fill your head at this moment. Unfortunately, anxiety and frustration are taking up too much space.

You know those stories where a hero is thrown into a pit with a fire-breathing dragon and has to try and escape but ends up taming the beast and then it helps them to get out? You feel like that. You've been hired to tame a beast. The beast that is Derek Danforth.

Except, it's an impossible task. And the woman who hired you knows it, because he's Derek fucking Danforth.

He’s clearly determined to make you as miserable as you were hired to make him.

You'll surely lose your mind if you continue taking the verbal abuse this man is clearly not afraid to throw at you. But you want the money, and you're not willing to give up that easily (even if it sounds much more enjoyable right about now).

There’s a lot of ways to deal with the situation you’ve been thrusted into.

But there’s only one way that might be able to take away some of your misery.

As hard as it is, you have to be completely unbothered by the entity that this man possesses. His insults rolling off of your sunkissed skin, his arrogance blinded by your positivity.

You pull the velvety covers over your bare shoulders, your brain melting into the pillow as you assure yourself that you have it within you to overcome the challenge that assuredly lies ahead.

It can’t be that bad, can it?

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✧ author’s note: sorry for the really cheesy ending LMAO it was the best idea i had. i’m violently nervous to post this i feel like it’s terrible but also there’s some parts i’m really proud of?? so generally conflicted right now but i hope you enjoyed reading it :) there will definitely be more (considering the complete cliffhanger) however the length of continuation is definitely balanced on the reception i receive on this (if this was compete garbage i will absolutely accept it and move on)

also the outfit i wrote derek into wearing in this is something that ive been nonstop thinking about, i just need josh hutcherson to wear it with frosted tips and his diamond earring and do a little photoshoot. that’s all i ask <3

✧ anyways thank you buckets for reading this, i hope you have a fantastic day :)

[gabessquishytum]

Hob is an interior designer for the ultra rich; he moves furniture around to lighten "engeries" and increase "flow". It's a hodgepodge of bastardized fung shui and geometry, because Hob is a conman. And thief.

His interior design persona and "firm" was a cover Hob was using to case some rich asshole's house. Hob wasn't even trying to sell the bit really, he moved a single chair, but after the job (this guy was obliviously so rich that he hasn't seemed to notice Hob's theft 🤷🏽‍♀️) Hob's mark recommended him to his other rich douche friends.

So high-end interior design is now Hob's side hustle. He's still a thief and conman, but now he's legally (sort of) conning marks. Hob is just as surprised as you.

He has just been hired to design the new bachelor pad for one Dream Endless - artist, socialite, philanthropist. If the name sounds familiar, it's because he just had an amazingly loud divorce play out in the press from partner no. 3 (there were two other marriages and one kidlet, for Mr. Endless). And it seems like the ex got all the friends and support in the divorce.

Hob was hired by some assistant, a Matthew, so he's yet to meet Mr. Endless, but if the various paparazzi photos are right, he should certainly be nice to look at.

Yeah, those paparazzi photos did not do him justice -- watching Dream swim in little tiny speedos is Hob's new religion. If Hob were a better man, he wouldn't be scheming to become Mr. Endless the 4th.

Mr Endless the 4th... and hopefully the last. I reckon Hob will want to stick around! I am absolutely tickled by this au, tbh. I think Hob needs to keep on scamming rich people and stealing their furniture as much as he wants.

Dream's requests for the design were basically "I want it all to be black" and also "leave me alone when I'm doing my art" - two things that Hob is a little bit disappointed about. He doesn't really care about interior design, but all black? Minimalism? Dream deserves better. And Hob definitely doesn't want to leave him alone! But if he can at least watch Dream, that's good enough for now.

He makes a few adjustments to what Dream requested. There's plenty of black, sure, but there's also stained glass and light streaming into the apartment. There's beautiful stone flooring in the kitchen (heated, of course). Hob gets the most amazing four poster bed for his new favourite client, all silk sheets and black-out curtains. He spends all day dreaming about making sweet love to Mr Endless in between those sheets.

And Dream seems to be getting used to having Hob around. Plus he begrudgingly approves of his design choices. Eventually he opens up about his miserable dating life, and Hob is always so sympathetic. He doesn't lay it on too thick (Dream is smart enough to spot a gold-digger!), he's just kind. Is Dream really making him into a better person?!

Well, maybe not. Hob is still a thief, and he's definitely still scamming his clients with the whole "vibrations" thing. He's also definitely perving on Mr Endess in the swimming pool. But when Dream does finally make a move and shyly kisses Hob while inspecting the latest updates to the interior design... Hob takes him to bed very gently. He lays Dream out on the silky sheets and fucks him so sweetly, so lovingly, telling him how worthy and beautiful he is. Things that Dream has never heard before.

Hob settles into the bed when Dream falls asleep on him afterwards - and rest assured, he intends to stay. Hopefully with a ring on his finger. But he's not getting ahead of himself, don't you worry.

[kidney9-9]

A Busy Christmas Season - Tom Holland

Hi hope you enjoy reading this :) thank you! Requests are open and I hope to start writing more soon. Happy holidays!

Tom Holland x Reader [Angst with Happy ending/Fluff] Warnings: Cursing, crying, breakdown Word Count: 2.7k

-

Your eyes widened at the list of preparations for the Christmas party at your work and the other list of Christmas gifts you had to find and buy for your family and friends. And then there was the fact, that your boss decided that you could handle a bit more work with this new assignment that had you researching about celebrities and their favorite restaurants.

Fuck, this was a lot of work for this week. You shouldn’t have waited this long to buy the gifts for your family and friends, but you were waiting for your paycheck that came earlier today, since you didn’t want to dip into your savings account.

You sighed as you put your keys into your car, making sure you had everything with you – your purse, your work laptop, wallet, and phone. You glanced down to your phone as you put your seatbelt on, seeing the screensaver with you and Tom, the picture making you smile briefly. Tom was over at his friend’s place at the moment, so he had no idea that you were going to run some errands for Christmas and work.

You had sung along to the music on your playlist as you drove to a shopping center to buy the supplies for the Christmas party at work and hopefully find some gifts for your friends and family. You groaned as you realized there was traffic on the way there.

By the time you got there, you wasted an extra hour sitting in traffic! It seemed that other people were also Christmas shopping this week, but it still was annoying to deal with, especially when you were on schedule today.

You rushed into the store, grabbing the supplies for the work party, throwing in some extra snacks and drinks. You bought it with the company credit card, sighing in relief when it went through without any trouble.

You ran into another store, buying one of your friends a pair of shoes they said they wanted before. Then found some funny gag gifts for Tom, laughing slightly as you put it in the cart. Then you found a sweet bracelet for another friend, gift cards for a few family members to their favorite places. You got Tom’s family some cozy blankets for the chilly season and a family friendly board game, since you knew they loved playing those.

Finally, the only person you had left to buy a gift for was Tom himself. Sure, you got a few gag gifts for him, but you wanted to get something to show how much you loved him and appreciated him this Christmas.

Checking the time on your phone, you groaned loudly as a surge of panicked stress came up. You only had two hours to bring the supplies to your work and you had to finish that assignment that you hadn’t had time to work on! You quickly bought everything and rushed to your car, accidentally running your cart into the back of someone else’s car as they were backing up.

You gasped as you pulled the cart back, looking at the big scratch and small dent it made on the car. The person honked at you, and you squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, cursing your luck as the person came out of his car, screaming at you.

“How could you not look where you were going, you freak?! Do you know you’re not supposed to be running in a parking lot?!” He yelled, waving his hands to you.

You sighed, “I’m so sorry, what’s your name and phone number? And your insurance? I’ll try my best to fix this as fast as I can, but I need to leave right now.”

He shook his head, “You’re not leaving here until I get video evidence that this happened. We’re going into the store over there to get the evidence. I’m not about to be scammed by a stupid girl like you.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not going to scam you? What made you think I was?” Your attitude slipped, and the man’s eyes widened at you.

“There it is, right there, your generation’s behavior is disgusting to its elders. How horrible. I bet you enjoy disrespecting everyone and being a degenerate.” He scoffed at you.

You breathed in deeply, holding back your fuming anger and stress. “You can go into the store. I’m going to let you take a picture of my ID and phone number, because I’m leaving now. And you’re not dragging me into a mess right now, because I already have so much else to do, understand?”

He coughed in shock at your response, “So horrifying to see this behavior in today’s society. I worked so hard for your generation to enjoy its freedom. Now pull out your ID, young lady.”

You rolled your eyes at him and pulled out everything, practically shoving it his way so he could take pictures of it. He even took a picture of your face, close up, saying he needed the evidence in case he wanted to take you to court.

As you finally left the parking lot, you almost sped to your workplace. Once you got there, you took a seat in your office with the supplies in your hands. You looked around in confusion, wondering where your notepad was with all the extra details you needed for your assignment.

“Anyone see my notepad?” You called out, ignoring the fact that you could hear your stress in your voice.

“Patricia threw it out, said it wasn’t festive enough and that you don’t use it.” Your coworker came up to you, glancing into your office.

“What? She did what?” You groaned out, “It had everything I needed! It was a new notepad!”

“Go ask Patricia where she threw it out.” He shrugged back to you. You breathed in deeply, trying to calm your anger and stress.

“Fine. I will.” You spoke softly but anger filled your tone. Patricia was in the break room, sipping some coffee as you walked in. You asked where your notepad was, and she said the janitor already threw the trash out for today and it was out in the back of the building probably. She apologized to you shortly before adding, “You never used it, how was I supposed to know?”

“Maybe don’t go into my office when I’m not there?” You sarcastically shot back. She gasped at your tone, and you ignored it and paced to the garbage cans to the back of the building.

By the time you got back, you were trying to stop yourself from crying and had trash sticking to parts of your outfit. You smelled disgusting, and you felt even worse. Your boss walked up to you and cleared her throat, “You’re needed in my office as soon as possible.”

You nodded shakily, putting your notebook on your desk, and walked with her to her office. “Is this about the office party? I have the supplies at my desk.” You asked her, feeling anxious at the look she sent you.

“No. This is about your attitude to your coworkers. One of them – anonymously, came into my office and begged me to reprimand you for your behavior. They said something about the way you were angry about what they did and that you were mean to them. I have never heard of something like this from you, I’m disappointed. I’m handing your assignment off to William since he has a kinder approach to his coworkers, compared to you at the moment. Check yourself before you come to work again. This will not be acceptable again, this is your official warning.” She lectured you.

You did your best to hold in your gasp and your cries, and nodded silently and left the room. You quickly rushed to your office, and unceremoniously dumped the supplies for the office party in the break room. You stared at Patricia’s coffee mug in the sink, grabbed it and took it with you as you left the office.

You drove home with one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand gripping tightly on Patricia’s ugly coffee mug.

Once you got home, you slammed the door shut and fell to the floor sobbing hard.

“Stupid Patricia, you weirdo. I hope you trip on a fucking Lego.” You sobbed out, clutching the mug in your hands. You didn’t hear Tom approaching you from the kitchen. He gazed at you with full concern and worry.

“Baby?” He called out.

“And – and – old mean man, what the fuck? I hope your license gets taken away.” You sobbed out, hitting your head back against the door repeatedly, not hearing Tom.

“This is all my fault, fuck.” You cried out, dropping the mug to the floor, thankfully not cracking it. Your eyes were squeezed shut and sobs huffed out of your throat.

“Darling! What’s going on?” Tom spoke up louder, dropping on the floor next to you and curling his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace.

“Tom?” you sobbed out, digging your head into neck, trying to breath in without crying again but you couldn’t stop your sobbing.

He rubbed your back with one of his hands and brought the other to the back of your head. He stroked it softly, whispering sweet things to you, “It’s going to be okay, baby. Shh, listen to my voice. You’ve got it, honey.”

You continued to sob for a while until you felt exhausted. The cries slowly turned into sniffles as you slowly blinked into his neck, “I got snot on you…” You whimpered quietly.

“Oh baby, it’s okay. Do you wanna talk about it?” He mumbled back to you, kissing your forehead as he brought you close to him.

“No, not now.” You felt another tear slip and you rolled your eyes, “It’s stupid. Fuck, I still got to get the gifts out of the car.”

“No, it’s not stupid and no, you’re not getting stuff out of the car right now baby. You’re going to go take a bath right now.” He responded to you. He picked you up and you sleepily cuddled into his arms, not refusing him.

“I’m tired.” You yawned as he set you on the bed softly. He hummed back to you with soft eyes looking down at your body. He noticed some of the trash on your outfit, and picked it off, a bit confused, but he didn’t bring it up.

He helped you take your shirt off first, and then your pants, and then the rest of your clothing. You shivered softly and he pulled a blanket on top of you, then rushed to the bathroom and started a warm bath. He lit some of your favorite calming candles and put some lavender bubble bath into the water.

When he walked back into the bedroom, you were slipping to sleep and he smiled down at you, sitting next to you on the bed. He pressed kisses on your face, waking you up just slightly.

“Baby, I’m going to take you to the bath now, is that okay?” He whispered to you, watching as you nodded back to him a yes. He picked you up, holding you close as the blanket fell to the floor from your body. You breathed in deeply, close to his neck again, just enjoying the fact that he was here with you and that he was holding you close.

“Mm, you smell good.” You murmured, and Tom smiled down at you. He slowly placed you into the full bathtub, with a fluffy towel on the edge where he put your neck and head.

“Yeah? I’m wearing the cologne you got me for my birthday.” He whispered back to you, smiling as you blinked slowly at him, waking up a bit.

You looked around, slipping back into awareness, “Oh, Tom…” Your eyes started to tear up and Tom quickly slipped his hand underwater, squeezing yours.

“Aw baby, don’t cry, it’s okay now.” He mumbled to you, kissing your cheek softly.

You pouted at him, eyes still watering, “You’re so sweet, I love you so much.” You sniffled, and he grinned at you, pressing a kiss to your pout.

“Mm, I love you too, honey. You deserve the best in the world.” He whispered back, before helping you wash yourself. He scrubbed your arms with washcloth, dragging soap up and down your body as you rested in the bath.

“Tom?” You hummed out, gazing at him softly. He nodded back for you to continue.

“Thank you. Do you wanna get in?” You asked gently, holding onto one of his hands and squeezing.

He smiled back to you and nodded, “Sure thing, sweetheart. One second.” He pulled back and undressed himself. You scooted to the center of the bath to give him space to get in behind you. Once he settled in, his legs were on either side of your body and you were resting up against his chest. The warmth from his body and the bath made you sleepy again, and you pressed a slow kiss to his arm when you turned to cuddle close to him.

“Love you baby.” He whispered, brushing his hand through your hair. You mumbled it back before you drifted off to sleep, the stress from today washing off of you.

Tom stayed in the tub with you for another thirty minutes, making sure he washed you up good. Once he was ready to get out, he picked you up bridal style and pulled a towel over your body so you wouldn’t get cold.

He placed you on the bed and dried you off with soft and caring hands and then went back into the bathroom to tidy up. When he came back, you were cuddling with one of your favorite blankets on the bed. He smiled at the sight and went to go wash your clothes in the laundry room. Once he tossed them into the washing machine, he went into the kitchen and started making your favorite meal.

It took a little bit of time, thankfully he had the supplies beforehand, and then set it up on the night stand next to you. Before he woke you up, he set up the TV in the room and found one of your comfort shows. He pressed play and put the volume low.

He woke you up with a kiss to your forehead. You blinked up in surprise as the smell of the food hit your nose and you gazed over the room. He set everything up perfectly.

“This is amazing, Tom.” You spoke up softly, gazing to him with love in your eyes. He settled into the bed next to you and kissed your cheek.

“For my perfect girl.” He whispered back, smiling at you as you cuddled close to him again.

“Not that perfect! I can’t find a gift for you for Christmas.” You laughed softly and shook your head.

He raised his eyebrows and then shrugged, “I already got my gift for Christmas. It’s okay.”

“What?” You laughed, a bit confused at his answer.

“Yeah, it’s perfect. My Christmas gift is you, here in my arms, smiling so sweet like that, my love. Thank you.” He murmured to you, kissing your cheek again. You put the dish down on the nightstand before you fully turned to him and put your hands around his body, pulling him into a hug.

“Baby, you’re so kind. I love you so much.” You whispered back.

“I love you too, darling.” He hummed into your embrace.

-

Bonus Scene:

“Wait, that annoying girl threw out your work? And she didn’t get in trouble? I can’t believe that shit…but I’m glad you stole her mug. We could smash it.” Tom suggested to you, tossing the mug in the air, and catching it.

You rolled your eyes but laughed, “I was thinking about doing that, but she’ll probably complain and say that I did it. It’s okay, I’ll just return it to work tomorrow.”

“Also, about that old guy, I’m pretty sure he’s the one that would get in trouble legally for almost hitting you! But don’t worry about it, I’ll deal with him today while you take a break.” Tom brought up and your eyes widened.

“Uh, wait really? I thought I’d get into trouble for running in a parking lot. And what are you going to do about it?” You asked, laughing when he made a funny face.

“I’ll be like James Bond, agent 007 and I’ll do spy things to him, so he doesn’t bother you again.” Tom chuckled back, punching the air.

“You’re so dumb, I love you.” You laughed back and he pulled you into a hug, laughing with you.

[lovelybrooke]

I just got the result for an important test that might decide if/which university I’ll get in and one the first thoughts was how Miguel and the spider gang would react to the nervousness before getting the result and how they celebrate when the reader (like me!!!!) gets a good result?

How they react to you getting into university

I just wrote some headcanons if that's okay with you. Also, congratulations for getting your test results!!!!

First of all, they are very proud of you, that much is obvious. They are super supportive and happy when you tell them, Miguel and Peter especially, since they are father figures towards you.

Before getting your scores, they are all reminding you that that they'll be proud of you either way regardless of your scores. While they all deep down don't want you to leave the, they understand this can be a stressful time for you, and so they do anything they can to calm your nerves.

Miguel feels so much pride when you tell him. Getting into university isn't a small accomplishment, but unlike Peter, he keeps a lot of his excitement to his self. As a reward for your hard work, he lets you do whatever you want, but secretly he hopes you'd chose to celebrate with him.

Though, once the happiness dies down, Miguel starts to realize how old you're getting, and how you're slowly moving away from him and becoming more independent. It scares him, the thought that eventually you won't be with him anymore, but he doesn't talk about it because he doesn't want to ruin your moment.

Peter is very vocal about his excitement. He tells anyone he can about your acceptance, and even tries to frame your test scores/ acceptance letter. If you're comfortable with-it, Peter would want to hold a party for you just so he can show how proud he is of you.

All the spiderkids are just as excited. Pavitr can't contain how happy he is for you, to the point where he might come off as overwhelming. He really means well; he just asks a bunch of questions regarding your plans for the future that he might get carried away.

Miles and Gwen still being in high school understand the stress you might be under since they can relate with the collage admission process. They are still very proud though and are super happy to see you move on in your academic career.

Hobie being Hobie, is slightly sinical about it. I 100% agree that he's anti the collage/university system, since he views it as a scam that attempts to squeeze money out of you. However, he's not about to rain on your parade, so he keeps his opinions to himself. Even if he doesn't like collage, he understands how hard it can be to get into, and he wants you to know how proud he is of you.

In conclusion, they are all very, very happy about all your accomplishments. Even though they are so scared you're going to go away to your fancy school and forget about them, they know this was something you worked super hard for, and they aren't going to let their fears ruin that for you. Though, don't be surprised if a few weeks later once the hype dies down you're being asked if you're truly ready to leave them.

---

A/n: Sorry if this is short. Again, it's super great that you got those test results, hopefully everything goes well.