#just so i could finish my previous project and start working on this right away

[acaciapines]

for a fic called the ‘krisralsei bad end au’ there sure is a lot of berdly in this first part....look i know what im doing ok. ‘krisralsei bad end au’ is like. one of three big things this fic is about. this thing has LAYERS.

[neptuneiris]

sparks (03/04)

Did i drive you away?

pairing: business-boyfriend!aemond x fem!reader

summary: at the beginning your relationship with aemond is perfect and there were no worries. until he becomes the Heir of his father's company, the most important in the whole country and certain events and certain people start to interfere in the relationship.

word count: 8.8k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

there will be an epilogue coming soon!

here it is finally! thank God!

I'm so sorry for the delay beautiful people, it's been heavy weeks where I was writing parts but I couldn't finish them, so my writing time was extended more because I didn't finish, plus I moved, my cat is lost and I've felt very sad about that, besides college, presentations and more, but seriously I love writing, it's my way to escape, so I didn't feel any pressure, don't worry about it :)

I hope you like this new chapter a lot, I'll be waiting for your comments, so enjoy and thank you so much for your patience and support!

In the midst of your relationship with Aemond, things between the two of you are charged with tension.

After the conversation with his grandsire, Aemond's suspicions could not have been more accurate because of the way he behaved. Despite everything he told him and left him thinking about the future of the company, he still tried to talk to you about it.

But you, again, did not let him.

Aemond had to go back to work, just as you also went back to taking care of your own responsibilities such as college.

Aemond's life was still immersed in a whirlwind of responsibilities and commitments. From the moment he woke up, got ready and set foot inside the company, he was already doomed to a busy day.

He had to attend meetings with his key executives, discuss financial analysis, take online conferences, answer emails, calls with partners and clients.

Every moment his desk was filled with reports, financial projections, documents and more that he had to review in detail. Not to mention that the partnership with Alys Rivers is still ongoing.

Still he would make the effort to get home early and spend time with you, every night making an attempt to talk to you about what happened that night, but you wouldn't let him, as you had things to do as well.

If not college, then work, besides having to clean the apartment, do laundry and make food, which Aemond offered to help you with, but the two of you feel completely distant from each other.

Because both he and you know that things between the two of you just aren't right.

They are not since that one night nor does it help you to read every moment in the magazines how Alys Rivers has been seen entering the Targaryen building, where Aemond is always mentioned as well and he assures you that they only had meetings even though you don't even question him about it anymore.

Each of you is immersed in your own thoughts, Aemond feeling helpless, frustrated and sad, his gaze reflected by a deep regret in his heart at not being right with you.

And although he wants to find a way to fix things, you don't want to create any more problems, more than anything else you don't want to interfere between his grandsire and him.

And as the days turn into weeks, communication is no longer paramount, the whole relationship feeling like emotional paralysis, with no clear path of how to reconnect where you hide in your to-do's and Aemond barely has time to spend time with you.

So you find it easier to forget about it and wait for him to do it too. But inside you are still just as hurt, humiliated and sad.

And that little free time he has left for you is simply not enough to try to talk to you, besides you won't let him.

Until that time of the year when Aemond has to travel to attend social events or board meetings, also to meet with his partners around the country to oversee the expansion of the company.

Until he tells you that the first trip will be to Storm's End with his brother Aegon, then to Highgarden and Winterfell with Helaena and at the end to Casterly Rock… with Alys Rivers.

And that you definitely don't like to hear.

"I'm not traveling with her, we're just meeting there for the event."

He lets you know as he starts packing his bags for this two-week trip and you help him out, because even though you're both going through a silent fight, you still care about him and have always helped him with this kind of thing.

But you do feel that discomfort all over you knowing that she is also going on a trip to the same place as him. And Aemond knows it as he watches you out of the corner of his eye, knowing your mannerisms very well.

"Eleanor and Cole will be with me the whole time," he tells you softly, "And I'm already preparing everything with my publicity team for when the press starts publishing pictures of her and me, I don't—

"It's okay," you tell him softly, placing his ties perfectly in the suitcase, "I understand."

He watches you for a few seconds without saying anything, as you continue to put his clothes away the right way, feeling his gaze on you but not watching him back, to which he lets out a long breath.

"I just want to make sure you'll be okay," he tells you just as softly as before, getting up to stand next to you, "I don't want you to be worried all the time. You know I would never do anything to hurt you."

You press your lips together, watching him for a few moments to refocus on the suitcase.

"Yes, I know," you tell him to cut the subject short, saying nothing more.

At this Aemond watches you with some sadness, concern and anguish, but at the same time with love and tenderness, desperately longing for you to share more of your thoughts and emotions with him without pressuring you.

But since he knows you won't, he chooses to hug you.

And he does it carefully, tactfully, knowing that at any moment you may push him away, but to his surprise, you feel your high barriers of defense crumble at that moment, his gesture catching you off guard.

And you with a little hesitation, in the end decide to hug him back, since of course you missed him just as much as he missed you, both of you sinking into a soft and comforting embrace, where finally just for that moment, everything feels right.

There is hope.

Aemond feels his whole body stop tensing the moment he feels your arms wrap around him to hug him back, he lets out a long breath and pulls you tighter against him, hiding his face in your neck.

And you hide your face in his chest too, inhaling his comforting scent, feeling at home again.

"You know you can come with me, right?"

He murmurs in your ear, making you smile softly against his chest.

"I'd love to but I can't. I have to work and attend my classes."

He lets out a resigned sigh.

"Then on your vacation we'll arrange a trip, I promise," he tells you then leaves a soft, tender kiss on your forehead.

You raise your gaze to him as he lowers his so he can watch you.

"Like when you took me to Winterfell?"

"Yes," he smiles softly, "Now where would you like to go?"

"I don't know," you shrug, "Maybe to the Iron Islands?"

"Perfect."

He tells you then leaves a soft kiss on your lips which you reciprocate, both of you pulling each other back into a tight embrace where neither of you want to let go.

And even though Aemond doesn't want to ruin the moment and the fact that possibly this invisible barrier between the two of you will no longer be there, he feels it's the perfect time for you both to talk about the topic you've been putting off that needs to be talked about.

"Y/N, about that ni—

"We need to keep packing."

You interrupt him instantly, gently pulling away from him and turning your gaze back to his suitcases, causing him to look at you sadly for a few moments.

"But—

"I'll go get your shoes."

You cut him off again, to start to move away from him and head towards the huge closet, leaving him with no choice since you definitely don't want to talk about it.

After that moment you both went through, that comforting moment, fortunately you don't feel that emotional distance anymore, since now you both sleep hugging each other, share breakfast and dinner together, also share about how the day went, like before.

Even on some nights there are movie nights, where finally Aemond finds that comfort in your arms, hugging and kissing you at almost every moment.

And you too after a stressful day at work or you are going through a lot of stress because of your classes, you hide from the world in his arms, feeling good and being that exactly what you need.

Until the day comes.

Aemond has to leave.

You drive him to the airport, where his private jet will be waiting for him along with Cole, Eleonor, you understand, his agent as well, and other security people.

The goodbye is hard, even though he's had to leave for business trips before, so neither of you know why. And by the time Aemond's jet flies, that discomfort returns throughout your body and so does that uneasiness.

At all times he lets you know of what he's doing, or at least the important things, like that he's already landed and also that he's already arrived at Aegon and Cassandra's penthouse where he'll be staying.

Before when he went on a trip he also did the same, letting you know where he is and what he will do, mostly to keep you informed, even now he sends you pictures of his breakfasts and also some views from Aegon's house.

You are more concerned that he is well and of course being miles away, it makes you feel safe that he talks to you about what he is doing and what he will do next, like attending those social events which is what he travels mainly for.

Until the day of the important event arrives.

Being at work, about to finish your shift, obviously you are not allowed to have your phone at hand, but when the time comes and now you have to go to class, when you look at your phone, you see severe messages from Aemond and also the notification of a link to a magazine.

This immediately tells you bad news.

And it definitely is when you read the title of what the magazine link is about.

Alys Rivers, co-owner of Riverlands Group seen at Storm's End… click for more.

You click on the link, curious, attentive and with a frown on your face.

The very famous businesswoman, soon to be partner of the important company Targaryen Inc, Alys Rivers has been spotted at Storm's End to attend an event attended by the most important businessmen from all over the country, among them, Aemond Targaryen. She has been spotted an early partnership between them but rumor has it that there may be more than just a partner relationship. We have also been informed that Rivers will be attending the same events as Targaryen in some parts of Westeros where Targaryen Incorporation has distributions of his company, so it is no coincidence.

After reading this, you read Aemond's messages, getting an idea of what they are about.

And you… you don't even know what to think anymore, let alone feel.

It makes sense that he didn't know anything, since at this point after what happened with his grandsire, it doesn't surprise you that he didn't tell him anything because he knew Aemond would do something to prevent it.

And how convenient that also Alys didn't report anything about her presence at all the other events since it was only known that she would travel to Casterly Rock.

Later that day you see how Alys does indeed show up at the Storm's End event and Aemond quickly sends you a picture of everything, of him with Aegon, Cole and Eleonor, wanting to make you feel at peace and safe.

Then later he sends you picture of him arriving to his hotel room, he even sends you a voice message telling you about everything that happened at the event, he tells you that Alys talked to him, that again she tried to cross physical boundaries but he wouldn't let her.

Also that they both had to take pictures together, but nothing else.

And the next morning there are a lot of videos and photos of the event where he is with his brother, his partner Borros Baratheon and more businessmen.

There are also the photos of him with Alys, even videos where the two of them talk and she again touches him on the shoulder and arm like that, smiling flirtatiously at him all the time, but Aemond turns away from her to go to some men.

It's as if she knows that at that moment there are many cameras around and they are recording, so you get the impression that she is doing it on purpose.

But all you can do is really nothing since Aemond is the one telling you everything to make you feel calm, so you just continue with your daily routine, focusing on work and your classes.

Although of course unconsciously your mind is on Aemond and his trip, also on her.

Fortunately what comes next is more… relaxing.

The next event is in Highgarden, where once Aemond lands, he sends you a picture of him with Helaena, where he tells you that she sends you greetings, both smiling at the camera, making you feel a comforting warmth all over your chest as you see the picture, smiling softly.

During the whole trip in Highgarden there is nowhere where Aemond is not with Hel, even in the event when he is around Rivers, Hel is always with them.

The same happens in Winterfell, as Hel must also attend as she is the one who made the partnership with the Starks possible.

Aemond sends you picture of her very comfortable on one of the jet couches, also of the two of them having dinner and watching a movie, even at the hotel they both ask for a room for the two of them with two beds.

At the event also the two of them are together, there is even a very professional photo of the two of them with their partner, Cregan Stark, where he with Hel give a welcome speech to all the guests and then Aemond with him make known the innovations in their companies thanks to the partnership.

It's simply all work, as it should be. You even see Rivers in some photos and videos, but compared to Storm's End, she doesn't look very pleased lately.

Until the moment comes when Hel will no longer be in Aemond's company. And from then on, you can't help but feel uneasy.

And apparently Aemond also feels the same restlessness as you do despite the miles of distance that separate you.

He sends you pictures of absolutely everything, from the moment he starts his day until it ends. He also tells you what he's going to do, even if it's taking a shower, yet he tells you to let you know that's why he won't write you back quickly.

He even sends you video of what he will eat, mostly to let you know that there is no one with him in the room if that is your concern, also at night, telling you that he will go to sleep.

Honestly, Aemond has never done this before on a trip and even though you didn't ask him to, as if wanting to see where he is and what exactly he is doing, wanting to check on him at all times, Aemond does it for your peace of mind.

And without wanting to, you already find yourself waiting for him to send you picture or video of what he will do next, feeling paranoid and to some extent a controller.

You know that this is wrong, that it is not necessary, that neither of you have ever acted this way before and that it is as if you want to know Aemond's movements every second in an unnecessary and… toxic way.

And it's not right, you know it's not.

But Aemond feels that need and so do you, even if you don't want it, you feel that need to know that Rivers is not taking advantage of your absence and worse…. That he is giving in to it by making the partnership possible.

But Aemond would never hurt you, he has told you that and you know that, but you also know as well as he does that he has the eyes of almost everyone on him and will have problems with his grandsire by the time he returns because of Rivers' disconformity.

So even in the event, Aemond feels more that need to let you know that she's not around Rivers, that he's not doing anything wrong or giving her and him anything to talk about.

And the worst part is that you are there, attentive, waiting and watching it all.

Even after the event is over, Aemond tells you that he's going back to his hotel room, telling you that he's going to take a shower. Then he sends you a picture of him brushing his teeth and then another one of him in bed and at an angle so that you can see that he is all alone.

And only at that moment, for two full weeks, just this very night you feel completely calm and at peace, knowing that he is coming back tomorrow and will be by your side again.

And you don't understand.

You just don't understand what happened to both of you.

You don't understand how you went from having the most beautiful and healthy relationship ever, to this, where both you and he acted in a toxic and completely unnecessary way.

And when you least expect it, tears begin to flow from your eyes as you stare at the dark ceiling of the room, alone in the huge bed, with frustration and sadness completely invading you and loneliness settling in your heart.

You are honestly afraid.

In the midst of your storm of emotions, you fear that the beautiful and healthy connection with your boyfriend will soon be gone. You're afraid that the relationship will become toxic.

You just don't want to lose the intimacy and complicity you both have to be replaced to this, the insecurities and these needs to look good and want to prove that neither of you, especially him, is failing in the relationship.

And with everything that's going on, the company, his grandsire, Rivers, you have no idea how to fix it.

Aemond's arms wrap around your body tightly, clinging completely to your figure, holding you tight against him as he hides his face in the curve of your neck, inhaling of your soft scent that drives him absolutely crazy.

And you reciprocate his embrace in kind by slipping your arms around his neck, hiding your face between his chest and neck, leaving a soft kiss on his cheek to cling to him again.

"I missed you," he murmurs lovingly and almost melancholy in your ear.

You hug him tighter, lovingly, as you place a small smile on your lips.

"Me too, babe."

He too leaves replete kisses on your cheek, tucking you back into his body, not wanting to let you go, while to you all his scent and the feeling of being in his arms is more than gratifying, being just what you needed.

He strokes your hair as he inhales deeply, not being able to get enough of it. And neither of you say anything else, as actions speak for themselves and what two need, is the touch of each other.

It was two weeks but for both you and him it felt like months.

You both look at each other and he leaves a soft kiss on your lips which you reciprocate as you both have a small smile on your lips. Then you both separate and start to head towards the car once Cole and the other men help Aemond to put his suitcases in the trunk.

All the way he keeps holding your hand, while you drive to the apartment and he talks to you about everything that happened on the trip.

"Our trip to the Iron Islands will now be easier," he tells you proudly and visibly excited.

You are glad to hear that the companies are doing well and that he has had friendly meetings with his partners, in fact you tell him so, as he smiles softly throughout and thanks you.

He also gives you the news that he will have a meeting with Rodrik Greyjoy very soon that involves talking about plans for an early partnership between Pike and Targaryen Inc.

You hum in agreement, smiling softly.

"I could tell," you look at him for a second to refocus on the road, "I'm sure your conversation with him will go well. But you want to go on a trip there too?"

"Sure," he tells you willingly, holding your hand against his lips, "They say it's a beautiful place. I've seen pictures too," he says then leaves a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

Once you both get home, you help him with his suitcases and unpacking, while now you tell him about your days at work, college and also here.

Fortunately for him and you, it's Friday, so you both stay home and rest. He tells you that he won't be going to work Saturday and Sunday, so you have the whole weekend for the two of you.

You still have to work Sunday afternoon but you don't mind, it still won't be long, so you enjoy and take advantage of these free moments with your boyfriend.

Later that same night you both resume your nights of intimacy, which is something Aemond had longed for since you both had that fight after the event, leaving after traveling not too soon after that was just awful for him.

First you both take a little nap where nothing feels better than sleeping in each other's arms again, both of you without being an inch apart from each other in the huge bed.

Then when you wake up you go together to the supermarket to do the week's shopping and at the end you stay in the living room watching movies.

And it was also something you craved.

Obviously you're not as insatiable as he is, as Aemond really can't get enough of you when it comes to sex and really takes all his time with you. This time is no exception.

But once that glorious weekend ends and a new week begins, you both resume your routines from before and in which he simply has no time for you.

Again Aemond tries to do everything in his power to come home early and spend more time with you, which is something you consider and are grateful for his effort, as you knew that sooner or later he would have to go back to his old busy routine.

Not being on good terms with his grandsire, having to attend meetings and phone calls from his partners, making and reviewing reports, delaying as much as he can the partnership with Rivers just so he doesn't have to see her, it's too much.

And little by little, although he doesn't want to, he returns to his exhaustive routine of before and in which unfortunately also affects you for seeing him only at night at a very late hour.

Although he still does everything he can to make sure that work doesn't take up more of his time than it should.

You continue as normal, going to work and attending your classes, but you find it again sad and annoying that you are again having less time with Aemond.

As well as what you didn't want to happen.

And of course Aemond would have to explain himself, having that need like on the trip so you wouldn't think other things, telling you all the time, either by message or in person, that nothing happened, they just talked about work and nothing else.

Sooner or later Alys Rivers would reach her breaking point, so if Aemond wasn't looking for her, then she would be looking for him.

So you had to go back to reading magazine articles online where they talk about how they've seen her in the Targaryen building and so on.

That's how things were going on for a few weeks, almost for a month, until again and unexpectedly, Aemond has to travel again.

Aemond is technically not yet the head of Targaryen Inc, his father is, but due to his health, he must attend for him.

Again to Casterly Rock to an important event and also to a conference where Aemond will meet with the board of directors and his partner Jason Lannister.

Other businessmen will also attend as it is a general event and heads of major companies all over the country are in attendance.

The news of having to travel again catches Aemond and you off guard, explaining that the board meetings normally take place in November, but that they are earlier this year.

So as soon as he gets the news, he starts preparing everything for his trip, even preparing work papers and other preparations for his presentation at the conference, while you again help him and make sure he misses nothing.

He can't miss his meeting with the board of directors, it is paramount and a really big commitment, so you understand but you are disappointed all the same.

Honestly you are disappointed that you have to be separated from your boyfriend again, as you were not expecting to have to stay home alone for a week again.

The event lasts two days and Aemond will have to travel there from before to ensure his presence and avoid any unforeseen events as it is an important event.

Until again when you least expect it, the day comes for Aemond to leave.

He paces back and forth, making sure nothing is missing, while you help him finish packing one of his two suitcases, while he talks on the phone to Criston and then to Eleonor to continue making sure he has the right information about what time he has to board his private jet.

You then head to the kitchen and make a quick breakfast for him and yourself, you also make him a cup of coffee and ask him to stop for a few moments to get some food in his stomach, to which he does while still busy on his phone.

"Which hotel?"

You hear him ask Eleonor as he takes a sip of his coffee.

"Ah, yes, that's fine. But… about the documents, did I bring the folder with me?"

You at all times stand still, eating your breakfast and listening to what he says to Eleonor back.

"Okay, I'll go check," he says and quickly heads back to his office, still holding his phone to his ear.

You continue to stand still, as you watch him disappear down the hallway and let out a breath, not really being able to do anything since you know him too well and he always gets paranoid when he has to travel, making sure to get everything ready one last time.

A few minutes pass and finally Aemond stands still in the kitchen to finish his breakfast, though when he's done he heads to the bedroom to check his suitcases one last time and start placing them in the hallway for when Cole arrives and he has to take them down to put them in the car.

He paces back and forth, wasting no time, watching his wristwatch every second, counting down the time for when Cole arrives and he has to leave.

You meanwhile take his briefcase and place it on the island with you, waiting for the moment when he has to leave.

When they start calling him.

You look at the screen and see that it's about his grandsire, causing an unpleasant feeling all over your body as you remember the way he treated you last time, but you quickly let Aemond know.

"Your grandsire is calling you!"

Aemond comes out into the hallway with one of his suitcases.

"Please pick up, love."

You nod and accept the call, put it out loud and resume your breakfast.

"Aemond?"

"Yeah? What's wrong?" he exclaims from where he stands.

"How's it going, son? Are you ready?"

"Yes," he replies with a little force in his voice, securing his suitcase one last time, "Cole should be here any minute."

"You got all the conference details?"

"Yes, Eleonor mailed me everything," he says as he walks over to the island and pulls the phone towards him to take a sip of what's left of his coffee cup.

"Very well. Then you'll meet Alys and her uncle at the airport, I've offered them to travel with you, after all the three of you are going to the same place."

You immediately stop chewing, as well as your whole body stops moving, standing completely still and with tension all over your shoulders.

Aemond also immediately watches you, instantly realizing your reaction, but you look away from him trying to appear indifferent and with the lump in your throat you go back to chewing, bringing your cup to your lips.

You feel your heart start to beat wildly, feeling instantly how your tranquility disappears and suddenly you feel overwhelmed by all the mixture of emotions that invade you.

Meanwhile Aemond frowns and with a bewildered and also annoyed look, quickly turns back to his grandfather.

"What?" he snaps at him.

Otto Hightower lets out a long breath on the other end of the line.

"Aemond—

"I didn't even know she was going to the event too and why are you telling me this now?" he inquires her completely serious, in an annoyed and deadly tone.

"Because I knew you would do anything to avoid it and I wasn't going to allow it. We're so close to signing the contracts and I knew this was going to please Alys, so she'll see you at the airport and I expect… that you'll give her a good treat and please her for the entire trip."

A shiver of jealousy, insecurity and sadness runs through you, as you bite the inside of your cheek and try to act nonchalant about it all, but you know you're not good at hiding your true emotions and Aemond sees that, not liking his grandfather's words at all.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?"

He inquires him just as serious and annoyed as before and Otto sighs.

"I'm not having this conversation with you again, Aemond. Grow up and do what you're told if you want your company to survive."

"Maturity doesn't mean I have to do everything you say!" he exclaims angrily and exasperatedly at him.

"For the love of the Seven, it's only a flight, stop acting like a fucking little child!"

Aemond sighs and runs a hand over his face, wearily.

"I can't believe you're doing this to me."

"Everything is already decided. You're going to have to deal with it, whether you like it or not, I honestly don't care. And I hope..." he begins to say in a threatening tone, "That by the time you get back, Rivers doesn't cause a scene for me again because of your lack of commitment and interest."

"That's your problem and hers, not mine. When I get back I want to have a serious conversation with you."

And finally Aemond hangs up annoyed with his visibly frustrated face, where in comparison to him, you hide your emotions, not wanting to frustrate him more with your behavior upon hearing this new travel plan, acting disinterested.

So you try to make yourself really look carefree by taking your dirty plate and cup to the dishwasher, starting to wash them, not observing Aemond at any moment, fearing that he will notice your true state.

While you at all times bite the inside of your cheek, resist the urge to cry and insecurity as well as a host of other frustrating emotions completely invade your body.

And Aemond immediately notices, because he knows you too well.

So feeling the weight of the situation, he stands up with an almost tired face and walks towards you, instantly slipping an arm around your waist to turn you towards him and leave a soft kiss on your forehead.

Something inside you snaps as you hear this.

"I know what you must be thinking, but you have nothing to worry about."

He says softly, hugging you tightly and lovingly, holding you close against his body.

"The only one I care about is you and I promise I will stay in touch with you for as long as I can."

And a realization comes over you, holding you completely still against him.

"No matter how busy I am, I will always find time to call or text you, just like last time," he promises you, wanting to comfort you, "I will do everything I can to keep you calm while I'm away."

You feel that realization hit you all at once again and with your gaze gone and your lips parted you just blink, because suddenly you don't have the strength anymore, for anything.

And because of your lack of response and movements, Aemond separates his head from your shoulder to watch you, still hugging you tightly and not wanting to let you go until he is sure you will be okay, watching you with concern.

"Hey, did you hear me? You will always be my priority, no matter where I am."

"Tell me you understand, please love," he pleads with slight anguish, completely attentive to you, holding your face with both hands gently in a desperate action.

He assures you firmly, wanting to make you understand and wanting you to say something back, anything. But you just watch him for a second, then stare at a spot in the kitchen and say nothing, your face without much expression.

With a lump in your throat, because you really can't speak, you feel like a fool even though it's part of all the emotions you're feeling at the moment, unable to help it.

"Good," he murmurs confidently, feeling a little calmer and leaves a soft kiss on your cheek, to pull away and continue to prepare everything for when he has to leave.

So the only thing you can do, is that nod in his direction, without uttering a word. And apparently, that's good enough for him.

Aemond continues to make sure he has everything ready in his suitcases and that nothing is missing, leaving them by the doorway.

While you watch him silently, still with all that overwhelming mix of emotions invading your mind. Again you feel your strength drain away and anxiety takes over, with an ache beginning to spread throughout your chest.

While he in comparison to you is calm, unconcerned, having no idea of everything that is going through your mind at that moment, making you feel bad to be thinking this now.

How cruel am I going to be?

You wonder with sadness, as you bite the inside of your cheek and try to hold back the tears that want to come out of your eyes. You don't want him to notice your agitation, at least not yet, but it's getting harder and harder to control it.

You love him.

You love him deeply.

You know that perfectly well. There is no doubt about it. And you know he loves you too.

But it all comes to your mind hitting you like a violent wave, drowning you, the magazines, his work, the association with Riverlands, the event, his grandfather, the press, his travels and Alys Rivers.

You watch as he ready waits for Cole with his phone in hand at the entrance, typing quickly, assuming he must be texting him, with the suitcases at his side and his face of concentration.

"Love, could you hand me a folder I left on my desk, please? It's black."

He asks you while at the kitchen island he hurriedly checks his briefcase, as you bite your lips and swallow hard.

"Sure," you say without much emotion and head for his office.

When you return you hand him the folder and he thanks you to arrange everything perfectly back into his briefcase.

"Cole won't be long, we're already late," he speaks to you also in a hurry, "If you need anything you know you can call me. But you can also call my mom if you need someone to come over, she's going to Oldtown for another two months," he lets you know, "Okay?" he watches you for a moment and you force a small smile, nodding in his direction, "Okay," he mumbles.

And he disappears back into the room, mumbling that he hasn't taken his jacket, while you watch him, standing still again with your hard face, wondering:

How cruel am I going to be?

Then Aemond stands still again at the entrance to the apartment, answering a call from Cole.

"Have you arrived yet?" he pauses slightly, "Fifteenth floor, C100. All right," he ends the call and looks a little more paranoid, turning to his suitcases, "Almost leaving, love."

You don't say anything back, you just watch him and feel that lump in your throat again, wanting to talk to him but the words get stuck, feeling more of your anxiety, agitation, sadness and anguish, with tears in the corners of your eyes, not being able to control it anymore.

How cruel am I going to be?

It repeats constantly in your mind until the tears fall down your cheeks and that pain in your chest gets stronger, watching it without being able to contain your emotions anymore.

"I can't do this anymore," you say in a shaky voice, getting his attention.

Aemond looks away from his phone and watches you, where your state slowly takes him by surprise and he watches you completely attentively, a little confused, not understanding, starting to worry.

"Love—

"I know it's not your fault," you make it clear to him, starting to cry loudly, shaking your head, "But I can't anymore."

Aemond surprised, quickly turns to you, trying to speak.

"Y/N—

"The first time you went to Casterly Rock with her, I wasn't at peace. I was scared and not for you, but for her," you confess to him, sad, "And you sending me pictures and videos of where you were and what you were doing, made me feel like we didn't trust each other."

"Y/N, I only did it so you would be calm and safe while I was away," he tells you in a soft, confused voice.

"You don't understand," you insist, "That made me feel like a controller, like you think I need to be constantly watching everything you do, and when had that ever happened on your previous trips?" you inquire, "It hadn't been like that since she—

You stop, not wanting to say more, as you sniffle and wipe your tears with your fingers, lowering your gaze, sorrowful, sad and disconsolate.

Instantly Aemond stops in front of you, trying again to hold your face in his hands, completely worried.

But before you can say anything, the doorbell rings at that moment and you both know who it is, Cole. But despite this, he continues to be attentive to you.

"My love, I understand," he says softly, wanting to comfort you, "I understand that you don't trust her, I understand your reasons, but—

"It's not just her, it's also what happened at that event, the press wanting you and her together, the magazines, your grandfather, and I-I…" you sniffle your nose, "I don't want our relationship to become a toxic one."

At that moment Aemond looks at you completely unsure, his heart beginning to pound, his gaze completely intent and anxious.

"What? Y/N, what are you saying?"

How cruel am I going to be?

"I can't anymore, Aemond," you tell him in your completely broken voice.

He watches you silently, his lips parted, fully inspecting your expression, beginning to feel his pulse quicken a little too much, understanding perfectly what you are implying.

When again you ring the doorbell, which catches your attention amidst your trail of tears but not him, he remains attentive to you, not caring, beginning to feel a huge void in his chest, incredulous, advancing towards you in a needy manner.

"Y/N, don't do this."

"I don't have a choice," you tell him in pain and he again tries to take you in his arms.

"But—

There's a knock on the door, interrupting him, as he feels a painful lump form in his throat and he looks at you in complete shock, disbelief and hurt.

"Listen, can we talk about this when I get back, please?" he asks pleadingly, holding you by the waist firmly, not wanting to let you go, "Just…" he shakes his head anguish, "Wait for me, okay? And when I get back, we'll talk about it."

You shake your head, pointing your gaze at the door for a second.

"You must leave now."

And Aemond becomes more concerned about this, seeing the determination and defeat in your whole look of sadness, giving this up now and not intending to wait for him, beginning to feel his eye begin to burn and despair along with anguish invade him more.

"Sir? Are you there?"

You hear Cole ask from the other side of the door, but Aemond pays him no attention, wanting to fix this, desperately.

"Yell at me," he implores you, "Get angry, reproach me, anything you want, anything but this, please, I beg you."

You close your eyes, swallowing hard.

"Sir? I'm sorry but we must leave now," Cole again speaks from the other side of the door, "Your flight departs in less than an hour."

And al Cole again knocks on the door in desperation, clearly because he has to do his job and you're taking advantage of it.

You open your eyes and both of you stare at each other without saying anything, where you just wait until he has to leave, your face completely devastated.

But he barely processes what's happening, his eye reddening and his heart rate racing, waiting for you to understand and say something back to him.

"Go now," you mutter sadly to him.

"No, I'm not leaving until I fix this," he tells you desperately, on the verge of losing patience, "Just…please don't do this, not now. I-I don't… I don't want to lose you."

"Your grandfather will be upset with you."

"I don't fucking care about my grandfather, Y/N! Right now I don't care about anything, just this, us!"

Cole again knocks on the door, insistent.

"Just fucking wait!"

He yells at Cole desperate, upset, distressed, his emotions running high, not being able to control himself anymore and you decide that enough is enough, because Aemond won't leave, then it's best that you leave.

"I'll be leaving too."

You know that this trip is very important to him and you still love him too much not to worry about his work.

And the last thing you want is for you to be the reason for not being on time, which could lead to him not doing well at his event and conference with the board and his partner.

You murmur to him with a broken heart and turn around, walking towards the room, instantly being followed by him.

"No, Y/N, please, just wait," he tells you more pleadingly than before, "I promise you this whole thing with Rivers will be over soon, I promise!" he insists, "Or not, I just won't make any association with her, I can find another way for the company, I don't care what my grandfather says or—

"You can't do that and you know it. The company depends on hers."

"But you can't do this! Not now, please!" he exclaims in frustration, starting to cry.

And just as you're about to go into the closet to grab your clothes, he stops you, turning you to him to hold you and make you look at him, make you see how devastated he is, definitely not expecting any of this at all, feeling completely helpless and powerless in the face of the situation.

"Please Y/N, please," he says to you with a broken voice, as he puts his forehead together with yours for a moment, starting to tremble and feel an unpleasant sensation all over his stomach.

And seeing him like this completely destroys you.

You've never seen him like this before, you know you're breaking his heart and more by breaking up with him now, like this, like you're taking advantage of the fact that he has to leave to get on a plane.

How cruel am I being?

And even though you didn't want to do it, at least not now as he is asking you to, you know this is necessary.

Because you know that if he gets on his jet with her and you and he are still together, you will not be calm at all, you will over think things, things that are not.

If the partnership with Rivers passes and you and Aemond are still together, you will feel the same insecurity as always because the two of them will be partners and will have to keep seeing each other for the report of both companies coming together.

You will feel controlling, he will have this need to want to be good to you in an unnecessary way and you will just feel bad about yourself. And it won't end there.

And you'll have to keep putting up with the press, the boundaries Rivers oversteps, what Otto asks Aemond to do with her and the necessary justifications from him to you.

"I'm so sorry," you tell him with tears streaming down your cheeks and your face completely broken.

And Aemond shakes his head in frustration, in hopelessness, closing his eyes tightly, not believing it, not accepting it.

"Wait until I come back so we can talk about it and work it out. Don't end things like this, please," he tells you in a broken voice, starting to cry, "I-I love you."

"I love you too," you tell him the same way he does.

"And if you love me then why are you leaving me?" he asks you in a painful voice, not understanding.

Your whole face transforms into anguish.

"Aemond—

"Please don't leave me," he begs you once more.

Silence envelops you, where you both cry, you completely broken and he in complete despair, in the room where you both have shared so many special moments throughout your relationship, in the apartment where you began to form a little life together.

The air is charged with so much tension and nostalgia, where you both suffer from an intense mix of emotions, where you both suffer equally, as everything feels unreal, so suddenly and without time to react.

And Aemond tries to find any hope of being able to hold on, to get you back. But in the depths of his broken heart, he feels and knows that he has lost the battle.

And you also feel and know that this has been necessary, as broken as it has made you feel and in which you know, you are probably not going to fully recover by doing this.

The last thing you see of Aemond is how with his completely devastated look he watches silently as you pack some of your clothes in a bag to leave, still not accepting it, completely broken inside and imploring you with his gaze not to do this.

But you knew that if you didn't leave, he wouldn't leave and it's important that he catch his flight to Casterly Rock.

So without even saying hello or giving Cole a glance, you leave the apartment quickly with tears streaming down your cheeks, walking away from there and him.

You arrive at Floris' house in search of temporary lodging where she opens the door and you burst into tears in her arms, without even being able to talk to her about what happened when you cried uncontrollably.

And after a few hours, the next thing you know from Eleonor, simply because you needed to know for the last time, is that Aemond managed to get on his jet at the estimated time to land promptly at Casterly Rock.

She tells you that it was difficult but that they managed to convince him. And that's the last you hear from him.

Despite your determination to move on, every day at all times you can't help but feel a deep sadness and a sense of loss that won't leave you alone.

Letting go of your relationship with Aemond is difficult, you just can't. And rightly so if it's only been weeks, because leaving him behind, feels like giving up a very important part of your life.

You tried to find comfort in your daily routine, classes and work, but everything reminded you of him, all the time you were thinking about him and when you least expected it, you were already crying again, without being able to help it.

At night it is more difficult, you feel completely alone, you cry until you fall asleep, you questioned what you had done and in the middle of everything, you miss him deeply.

Days after Floris accepts you in his house, you immediately request a room in your university's residence halls and fortunately there is one available near your Marketing department.

You asked Floris to please accompany you to the apartment to get the rest of your things, which she did not hesitate to do in order to support you and also help you, taking advantage of the fact that Aemond was still away.

You did everything as fast as possible, not wanting to remember and think too much, you just wanted to get out of there with your things, avoiding to feel and let all the memories consume you, because you couldn't stand it.

A few tears escaped you, but as soon as it happened, the two of you left the apartment, locking it and slipping the key under the door, so as not to return it to him in person.

After a while, exactly after the week in which Aemond would already be back in King's Landing, he started looking for you through messages and calls, begging you to please see each other and talk.

Feeling even more broken, you decided to block him from everywhere, which caused him to come looking for you at work, hoping to talk to you.

But as soon as you recognized his car parking on the street, you quickly hid in the small back rooms, begging Sophie to cover for you.

You later found out that Aemond had been texting your mutual friends, asking how he could find you, where you lived now, wanting to sort things out, unwilling to let the two of you end up like you did.

Hel messaged you, so did Daeron, even Baela, but you decided it was best not to respond, because if you did, you would agree to talk to Aemond. And it broke your heart not to reply to any of them, especially Hel, but you know yourself too well and you did it for your own good.

But you never let him find you, because you knew you'd go back to him the minute you both sat down to talk and that's not what you want.

Not with his grandfather and Rivers still behind him.

Until one day Aemond stopped.

He stopped trying to find you and stopped asking your friends where you might be, you also stopped reading about him in magazines and social media. You read about his family, but nothing about him.

And so it went for a while, for about two months, where you to this day do not heal and you keep thinking about him, finding it strange this new life without him.

When one morning, a magazine article and almost all the social media announce a news that makes you understand now a little more the disappearance of Aemond not only from your life, but also from the world, surprising you.

You read the news in complete disbelief, thinking of Alicent, Hel, Daeron, Rhaenyra, everyone, but most of all him.

You know what this means, the note itself says so, but even though you knew it was only a matter of time, as Aemond told you, you are still surprised to see this, surprised that it has already happened.

Suddenly you feel a need and urge to text or call him, but you know it's not a good idea, yet the urge is there, thinking about how he must be feeling and all that he and his family must be going through.

Fortunately you don't do anything, but this leaves you thinking.

After almost everyone reads this news, the whole Targaryen family is kept in hiding, there is no sighting of them, no statements and absolutely nothing, which is what the press wants.

That's what happens for a month, until finally sightings of Otto and Alicent Hightower are reported. Also of Aegon with Rhaenyra and Daemon.

Until you simply decide not to be aware of it anymore, having to continue your life without him, since these are matters that don't concern you, at least not anymore.

So a few weeks later, Floris' birthday arrives, who invites his closest friends to a pub to celebrate in a small group, wanting to have a good time, relax and nothing more, to which you agree to go.

What you definitely didn't expect, was to meet your ex, Aemond Targaryen after all that happened and after almost five months.

general taglist:

@melsunshine @n4forlife @iamavailablesstuff @ttkttt @elliaze @trshngyn @tsujifreya @imsoshygirl @watercolorskyy @kckt88 @zenka69 @yentroucnagol @crispmarshmallow @bellastwd @queenofshinigamis @strangersunghoon @happinessinthebeing @iloveallmyboys

taglist part 3:

@hoziersfairy @bananaminion678 @targaryenmoony @skzenhalove

[tarjapearce]

Bad Teachings (Pt. 5)

Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

WARNINGS: Strained relationships, friendship starters, piercings, awkward truths. Slow Burn.

Summary: Relationships are weird. And truth isn't always kind. At least, you might have a friend.

(Might feel a bit boring, but we're building something here. 🥹)

Pt. 6

"OK. I've got one for you." —

—??

"What's the scariest plant?" —

You almost giggled into the reply in your head. It was another ridiculous joke, silly but science-y that upon reading it on a blog, you instantly thought on sending it to Miguel.

In the meantime while he replied, if he ever did that is, you kept on working in a new project. Despite the previous client complaining initially on the low numbers on her beauty product line, the numbers were making small changes in other states, giving a glimpse of hope in the team.

Your job itself at this marketing company, Searchbloom, was to make the briefs, office automation of said briefs and of course help prepare new campaigns for approved projects and important clients  such as celebrities, big companies, influencers and anyone with enough money to afford a complete market investigation.

Your phone buzzed as you finished another brief from a client.

—Red Tide or Algae Bloom. Really bad for marine ecosystems.

You blinked and shook your head at the little fact that you'd probably forget in the next hours. The giddyness of your comeback taking over once more.

Interesting. I thought it was the BamBOO!—

—Ever thought in going out more?

Damn.

Campy jokes were scratched off your list of things. You could picture in your head the reaction, dead, boring and possibly judging.

I'd need real friends for that(?) —

—Not a bad thing to be on your own, y'know?

Oh?

Swallowing at the dryness of your mouth, you finished the little brief, digitally signed it and sent it to another coworker in the other side of the office cubicles.

I know. But doing things on your own isn't always fun. I mean, I'd really love to go shopping, hanging out for lunch and the like with other people.—

His eyes squinted at your words on his screen

I mean we are social beings by nature, sadly, and as much as I'd like to keep doing things on my own, the making friends fever has taken over. —

—Trust me, don't rush things. They'll come to you in the right time.

Your brows arched in surprise at what you just read and pursed your lips in a tight smile.

I mean, I could ask you to hang out but I know you are a busy man. Plus, I gotta step a bit more out of my comfort zone, ever since I got out of college feels like the right time to start making little changes, can't be socially inadept forever, I guess? —

And I'm not sure if you'd actually be interested in such things, you're a workaholic, so yeah. Sorry for the long ass message. —

He hummed and his lip curled faintly upward

You should try it as well.—

—Got enough to live by. Thanks.

You actually give these "Leave me alone" sorta vibes 🤔—

—That pretty much sums it up.

Oh...

                                      I see—

Your heart gave a wobbly and doleful beat, eyes stuck in reading that sentence over and over again. You gulped laboriously the lump that had just formed in your throat.

He wasn't asking to be left alone, was he? Maybe he was actually hinting that you should leave him alone.

Oh no. No, no.

You hated assumptions. But he was pretty clear about the meaning of the message, right? Right?

Closing his chat log, you put your phone away and tried to pour yourself into work to little to no avail. Your brain felt like split in two, blooming headache biting at the back of your head. Week had just started.

You tried. You tried with all your might to keep the harrowing-thoughts at bay, but over thinking you ever old friend only made things trickier than intended. You barely wanted to look at your phone, cause what would you find there but implicit rejection? Even though the other part of you wanted to reach out, at usual.

Another cold realization. You were the one that always sparked the small and sparse conversations you had.

"... Fuck." Seeing your log of messages with him, offline, just made you cringe at how precisely you were acting and wanted to avoid be seen as. Clingy and desperate.

Gulping down, you pressed on the trash bin icon. Breath stilled for a second as you tapped on the 'Yes' confirmation button. He hadn't replied since yesterday.

Why would he anyways?

Question ghosting over your mind.

It wasn't that hard to process.

His words seemed to make sense now. The palpitations in your heart only made themselves clear further the more you thought about it.

God knows how long he had been waiting to say such things.

You grunted at your thoughts. The noise and unkind thoughts reverberating in your head, made your migraine to simmer to a higher level. You had barely slept as the whole situation was breaking piece by piece the little functionality you had left for the day.

But, tasked yourself with one thing, to not look at your phone through the day. A rather easy task since you only used it to check your little social media, watch funny things or videos that caught your interest.

The knitting and crocheting stash of videos in your gallery weren't enough to keep you distracted. So you had added a new category, city wandering for new spots. And four pm sounded like a good hour to actually start. 

And if wandering the city alone, after work to keep you busy from over thinking probable assumptions wasn't considered a hobbie, you certainly didn't know what else to call it.

So you finished work, clocked out and adventured yourself in the arts of local wanderlust. But of course traffic fucked throughly all chances of doing so. You went to the supermarket to grocery and toiletries shopping.

The situation had made you so oblivious to the fact that you needed to replace some basic stuff at home. Shampoo, toothpaste, conditioner, exfoliants.

You couldn't help but notice the coffee and grain aisle full of new products. Hazelnut lattes, cardamom and clove blends, brands you didn't even know that existed, some cheap, other expensive, and of course you took one in between. A small international sample blend.

Your card surely had died a little when you slid it to pay. Almost a houndred bucks in beauty products and another houndred and a bit more in groceries.

The groceries and toiletries were checked from the expenses list. To your little solace, Mr. Landlord was waiting for you with a man and another door.

You let them work, as you unpacked your things. At least you had a new door, a prettier yet still sturdy like the previous one.

Still, no message from Miguel.

----------

On Wednesday you tasked yourself with the same endeavor as yesterday. Not checking your phone. The videos in your "To watch" list were boring and annoying. Political propaganda, movie recommendation spams, mysoginistic stands ups, reactions to bizarre videos.

Nothing worthy to wasting your time on your lunch break. At least you would have the chance to wander the city on your own. You had noticed some work you had slacked, finished and other projects advanced. A perk you didn't think possible in the admist of chaos.

But why would you even congratulate yourself for doing something that was expected from you?

Right.

You clocked out and once more you went to the city. This time no traffic was there to stop you. Parking in a lot, you took your tote bag and walked. Getting comfy shoes to walk after work was added as a mental note. You stopped on a sidewalk.

Streets bustled with people walking like they were probably late to an appointment, Neon signs begun flashing their lights, adorning the streets with their different colors, different sort of aromas filled in your lungs. Pee, trash, hot dogs, sweets and bakery, perfumes, cigars, gas, weed somewhere.

An overwhelming start. You walked in the bakery's direction. To your surprise when crossing the street it was just a little mobile kiosk with choux pastries. Even though the products looked esthetically pleasing, the prices on the whiteboard underneath, made you turn in the opposite direction. And just then you found your first treasure.

Tea Bar. But not a gentrified-looking tea bar with over the top foliage decor with expensive furnace that charged you for just breathing their air. More like a tavern-esthetic sort of Tea bar named Julien's Potions.

Spices, herbs, and other pastries, rested within funky shaped glass containers, the clerk was also into a sort of role-playing that added a little charm to the place. Hand carved wooden tables and chairs littered strategically the small local. Six tables max. The art on the walls was minimalistic, yet still added to the overall layout in the place.

Prices were significantly much more affordable and the little treat you got, a red berries cold brew tea and Mango muffin, we're exquisite. It gave you enough energy boost to return at the parking lot. Of course you took some pictures of the place.

You felt proud. Your first solo adventure had been wonderful.

On Thursday you had ran into a little fancy liqueur shop. Ironically as it was, alcohol and you didn't get along, but the different labels, the shape of the bottles, the year of brewing, the array of sizes and prices, the origin place, made it all too pretty for you to ignore. There were bottles that surely would  cost at least five months worth of your paycheck.

Friday was a busy day at work and of course you just went home. On Sunday you had found a well hidden treasure, a bakery. This time, you took more pictures of the different pastries you had never seen before. Petit fours intricately adorned with such precision you wondered if they had a special machine for it.

Puff creams, chocolate croissants, pain au chocolate, Buttery buns that made you salivate. It kinda brought you back to the baking school sales, your mom's peach gallete and strawberry tarts were popular, and  the only two recipes you knew by heart. The rest, long forgotten and replaced with new hobbies' knowledge.

-------

A week and a half had been exactly gone by, and not looking at your phone had been easier than you had thought. You had discovered a few more places to add to your personal list. A crystal and esoterism shop, where you bought lavender incense. A little thift shop where you got a lovely and fashionable champagne colored trench coat. And today, you kinda wondered where you'd take yourself on a Friday evening

This time you hoped to find a knitting shop. Starting a new hobby meant to invest in it. And your cheap wools had ran out as you were learning the basics of knitting. After work, you'd park your car in a spot of the parking lot, but to your surprise it was closed early. So you drove until you'd find another, nearby the thrift shop you had found. Open 24/7.

You walked east, the bustle of the city wasn't as loud in some parts of it. You gave the thrift shop's clerk a brief smile before continuing down the street. To your surprise there was a Tattoo and Piercing studio. A.F.A.U.'s Emporium. Sid Vicious' voice reverberating through the place the closer you approached.

Your eyes widened upon seeing none other than Hobie on the front desk, organizing a bunch of guitar cords. The place was divided in two. To the left there was the tattoo artists and piercing cubicles. To the right, apparels and other handicrafts were neatly displayed before anyone that actually took the time in looking.

Walls painted in jet black, with a dim white grunge texture as a decor. Pictures of protests, famous singers that made a significant impact on society through their subversive forms of expressions were hung on the wall.

Jello Biafra, Kathleen Hanna, Patti Smith, David Vanian, to name a few, along some bands logos spray painted in some spaces.

A stark contrast with your well dressed for the system-look. Hobie arched a brow at you and chuckled.

"Got lost in the way, birdie?"

You shook your head as you kept looking around.

"I was wandering the city, actually found this place by mere coincidence. Looks pretty cool."

"Humbly"

"You work here?"

He sneered and shook his head.

"I owe it. Me and many others, actually. I'm just the face fo' it."

"What does... AF..."

"Anti Fascist Artist United." He sniffed as his lip twitched.

Your eyebrows rose and you glanced over the piercing cubicles.

"So ya just... wander in the city and see what happens?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Cool. But dangerous."

"I never go too deep in the city just... the outsides. Don't want to fuck around to find out what's in store for me." you chuckled, Hobie followed.

He tucked his hands on his pockets and walked over you, he motioned to follow him.

"How come every time we met you turn cooler?"

He shrugged and took you to the handicrafts.

"You did them?"

"No. My work's on the other side. These are made by local artist that are involved one way or the other in tryin'to get mo' spaces for people that actually bring a change into community."

"So all of this Merch..."

"Ain't free, that fo'sure."

You giggled

"No, I mean, You just rented this place to give other people a space to offer their art and goods without charging them?"

"Nah. they do pay a small quota, meaning, they can come and clean up, organize shite. Government pays the rent, they get full profit of their thingies. Everyone's happy."

"And the tattoo part?"

He smirked and shrugged.

"Government pays the rent, so... puttin' that to good use."

Your eyes widened slightly and you just nodded.

"Might need a bit of that smart for myself."

"You gotta shape it, birdie. Anyways, what brings ya here besides, yer 'wanderlust'?"

You sighed and shook your head.

"Been wandering the city on my own to try and distract me from something that is messing me up. Just glad I found a familiar face after almost two weeks of random strangers."

"Life's a bitch, innit?"

You nodded and went through the merchandise. T shirts with trippy designs, Pottery in fruit shaped bowls, handcrafted watercolors and painting supplies and of course, knitting tools. Your grabbed a couple of  wools and paid him to take  the small bundle with you.

"So what yer' here for?"

You looked up at him and sighed

"I'm trying to make friends on my own."

"How's that going?".

You shrugged and a humorless laugh came out your mouth.

"I mean... ever since college... way even before that, actually-" You looked up and scratched your neck awkwardly when he gave you his seizing stare.

"Sorry. Don't wanna bore you with my ramblings."

"Haven't said nuffin'" He sat across you and looked at your fumbling hands. The music had died down a bit.

"Saw yer door being replaced."

"Oh yeah. I'm glad I'm not getting stuck anymore." You looked at him and chuckled.

"Whut?"

"Do you always stare at people like you're judging their choices?"

"Yeah. Makes it funnier when they get all squeamish. Like ye."

"I'm not squeamish."

He arched an eyebrow and you both chuckled.

"Can I ask your age?"

"So ya can feel a Lil'more glum for what you might have or haven't achieved so far?"

"My thoughts exactly." you shrugged with a silent laugh.

"24."

"Ah, yeah. I can already feel the disappointment."

"A too well dressed disappointment"

"Is that why you call me... uh... runway girl?"

"No. Glam life, glam dressing, glam job. Runway sort of shite, so runway girl. Been there, done that. Not fo' me."

You didn't know whether to feel offended or laugh at his assumptions. Everyone was assuming lately.

"My life is anything but glam, Hobie. Just work enough to keep appearances. Something that my job also requires from me."

"That's why the name is perfect for ya"

"It's boring."

He pursed his pierced lips in mild derision

"Graduated uni?"

you nodded.

"Found a job of what you did study for?" Again, you nodded and sighed.

He chuckled.

"Still, you're just assuming. My life is boring. Really. One would think that working in branding companies offers you alot. But it's just another fancy way to say you're-"

"Another workforce for da capitalism?"

You chuckled and shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess. And people think I actually hang out with celebrities-"

"You don't?" He snorted and you frowned

"See?! You were assuming things! And no. It's rare when I actually meet someone famous. I basically make resumes of what they want, how they want it and make it come true. And if I ever meet them means no good. And still I have to dress up like I'm interviewing someone important."

" A wish maker, then. Might call ye Fairy."

" Sounds less brash than Runway girl actually."

" So lemme get this, you graduated uni, are working on something you actually prepared yourself for, dress up like an expensive doll, but... ya wander the city alone tryin' to make friends? "

"Sounds a bit more depressing and pathetic when you put it that way." He tittered at your words.

"Sounds like you're just living by."

"Yeah. That's been a recurrent feeling, even before college."

"What do ye want?"

"Uh... what?"

"Like, yer acting like yer living the life some dream of, but have the life some hate. That leaves ye in the middle. What do ya want?"

"Right now? I'd like a hug and be told everything, at least up here" You pointed at your head, "Will be fine. But since life is a bitch, I wanna get my ears pierced actually."

His smile was satisfied.

"That's a start innit?"

"Yeah... just realized that ever since college, I... didn't get the chance to do a lot of things."

"Uni seems like the dementor of people's dreams. Even worse if it's private." You chuckled and nodded. He motioned for you to follow to the front desk.

"Both ears?"

"Nah, just my right one for the moment."

"A'ight. Pick one, it's on me."

You looked at him with excited eyes, he just smiled.

"This one. It looks soo cool and it's stylish." You went for a triple helix hoop in your upper lobe.

"Golden, silver or colored?"

"Uh... golden."

He prepared his working area. Your chest felt a bit less constricting.

-----

The first thing you  did when coming home, besides giving Hobie a ride and greeting his mom on the hallway and getting a random invitation for afternoon tea, was to look at your new body modification on the mirror. Golden 6 mm hoops adorned your ear. You couldn't help but feel giddy and a little sore. Hobie was careful, and he was a pro at it.

Your phone had been buzzing nonstop hours ago. You made a quick dinner for yourself out of the left overs. You then took a shower and changed into your pjs, TV remote on hand, The Diary of Bridget Jones ready to play for the third time, when the notification sound dinged. You groaned.

Your thumbs padded and scrolled through the logs. Some were from the work's group chat reviewing the week's assignments, others from your social media announcing new videos for you to watch, your ex college classmates uploading new photos, and something more unexpected.

Miguel's name on the bottom of your notifications. It was almost comical how you had to rub your eyes and make a double take to confirm that it was him. He had messaged you. Your heart skipped a beat. Your thumb hovering on the unread text, like if reading it would make the room to suddenly explode.

You pressed on it and all you could do was blink almost stupidly at it's contents.

—If you're done giving me the silent treatment drop by on sunday. Need your help.

---------

Taglist:

@yeyrpp2 @zaddyskye69 @gejo333 @bigbassbug @daddylorianisastateofmind @namjooningera @d1lf-loverrr @amb3rrz @xantic0101 @niyanispunk

[polishedtaylor]

Dance With You Tonight - Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Authors note: Hii besties, sorry this took a while to get out! I will try to get a more consistent writing schedule. Spring semester started last week so I am trying to get a hang of that . Once again thank you to @punkshort for having faith in me and helping me organize this!! Anyways without further ado, enjoy!!

Series Masterlist Previous chapter

Synopsis: You were training and studying to become a professional ballet dancer, until fate had other plans. Leaving you crushed and headed into a new career path. Becoming a dance teacher, a way of keeping dance in your life. Still in the process of healing, you meet Joel Miller. A single dad working as a contractor, trying to make his little girl happy by signing her up for dance lessons. Guarded when you first meet him, he teaches you to love a way you haven't before. 

Chapter summary: you keep running into Joel outside of the dance studio and can’t seem to get away from each other. 

Chapter warnings: Some allusions to trauma and anxiety. Tommy being a forgetful uncle. Joel being a worried mess. Light swearing. Drinking, tipsiness, MDNI (18+), Slow (ish) burn, two pining idiots. No use of Y/N.

Chapter 2 - Falling Behind (Word count: around 2.5k)

“Please keep practicing those pirouettes, I expect you all to have them perfected by next week!” you say as your students begin walking out of the studio to pack up their things.  Parents were outside waiting and ushering their kids out the door. Finally you were all finished for the day, your last class being with an older group of kids. You walk up to the flight of stairs to your office, but bump into Sarah. She was sitting on the steps near the exit door with her dance bag at her feet. Her class had ended almost two hours ago, so you were a bit concerned as to why she was still at the studio. 

“Sarah, sweetie, what are you still doing here?” you questioned. She shrugged. “My uncle Tommy was supposed to pick me up…and my dad is caught up with a big project at work,” she explains. You sigh and tell her to get up and grab her things. Quickly you take her up to your office so you can grab your car keys and duffel bag. 

Then you both walked to your car, with Sarah sitting in the passenger seat. After asking where she lived, you placed the keys in the ignition and began driving. 

Time passed by, and you found yourself driving into a cul de sac neighborhood. Sarah then pointed out where her house was, a quaint home that looked well taken care of. You notice a pickup truck in the driveway. Someone must be home now. 

You park your car and unbuckle your seatbelt. You then walk with Sarah into the house, to see a very distressed Joel. 

Joel was pacing in the living room, with his phone up to his ear. “Damnit Tommy answer the phone…” he muttered. Quickly Joel turned around as he heard the door open. He certainly wasn't expecting to see walk inside his home with his daughter. You looked at Joel, fresh from work made your heart flutter. His t-shirt is a bit dirty, the fabric of the sleeves hugging perfectly on his biceps. A streak of sweat on his forehead from the Texan sun.  Snap out of it, his daughter was right next to you. 

“Dad? I’m home” Sarah said. “Uncle Tommy never showed up to pick me up from my lesson.” He had a sigh of relief and rubbed his forehead. “Sarah, baby I’m sorry. I had no idea your uncle would do this,” he groaned. “I just got home from work to see that you weren’t in the kitchen doin’ your homework.” Sarah immediately set her things down in the doorway and shrugged. “It's okay dad, really. She was nice enough to drive me here.“ she said as she looked in your direction. You give Sarah a comforting smile in return. “He’ll just have to make it up to me,” she said sincerely. Joel chuckled, knowing that would consist of his brother taking her to the mall. He then told her to head upstairs to her room so he could talk with you. 

“I really ‘preciate you drivin’ Sarah all the way over here, given you probably have plans. I swear this is not a common occurrence. My brother was probably caught up in somethin’ stupid.” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sat down on the couch. 

You give him a sympathetic look and cross your arms.  “It's all good, really. I'm just glad I was able to help.” Joel gave you a small smile, “You want coffee or a glass of water?”. you stammer and shake your head. “Thanks for the offer, but I should get home.” he nods, “‘Course… let me at least walk you back to your car.” he said. You couldn't argue with that.  

You sat back down in the driver's seat, the car door still swung open. “I've been meanin’ to call you too….for uh figuring out a payment for classes?” his voice wavers a bit, was he nervous? You nod “Of course, we can do it over a cup of coffee. There’s a nice café a couple blocks from the studio.” you say with a smile. He nods and gives you a bright smile. That damn intoxicating smile. You then wave, shut the door , and drive away. 

The weekend came sooner than expected. You were sitting at a dimly lit bar across the city, meeting up with your old friend Hailey for your weekly debrief. “So you gave him your number AND made a date to meet for coffee?” Hailey said with a suggestive tone. You roll your eyes and take a sip from your wine glass. “Yes but I give my number to all the parents! And this is definitely not a date. I'm just trying to help, Joel is really in a bind,” you say defensively. Light bar music was playing and sounds of people chatting filled the room. Hailey nods and lets out a sarcastic “Suuuure. Look, you know I’m just looking out for you. Your last relationship was how many months ago? If you'll even consider that one,” she said as she sipped on the straw of her drink. Joel really was handsome. Like really good looking, and you had confessed this to yourself weeks ago. But he was the father of one of your students, a line you never really thought about crossing. 

“I'm just not ready for that…especially with everything that happened….” you took a deep breath and Hailey frowned, reaching her hand over to yours to give it a supportive squeeze. She then looked to the side and waved at the bartender for another round. You readjusted yourself in the booth and straightened your shoulders, plastering on a smile to ask Hailey if she can change the subject.

Another hour had passed and you were snacking on the bar peanuts and giggling, the mood much lighter than it was earlier. The best thing about your friend Hailey is that she never left Texas, either. You’d known her practically since you were both in diapers. Even attending your first ballet class with her all those years ago. You even still had an old picture of the two of you, giving the biggest smile for your mom who took the photo. Backstage at your first recital. Still full of hope and dreams.

A little more tipsy than you’d like to be, you were resting your chin in your hand, trying to give your full attention to Hailey's story about how she ran into her ex’s new girlfriend at the supermarket the other day. “And did you see Nicki’s instagram post about getting engaged? Makes me really want to give up on love.” she grumbles and you shrug and play with the straw wrapper. Then all of the sudden you see a familiar, broad frame enter your peripheral view. 

You immediately notice it was Joel, along with a group of men. You silently curse to yourself, trying not to draw any attention. You were definitely not the most sober. He lets out a laugh and pats the back of another, someone a bit younger but sort of resembles him. Must be the famous Uncle Tommy who forgot to pick up Sarah the past week. Everything seemed to be forgiven between him and Joel. 

Eventually Joel turned his back around to grab his beer and you caught his eye. It was an odd sight for him. It was you, in a bar. He'd never seen you in such a laid back and casual setting, especially with a beer in your hand. Always in your dance attire for when you taught your students. 

Joel then excused himself from the other men and started walking to the booth you and Hailey were sitting at. Next thing you know, he stood above the two of you. You give him a smile and introduce Joel to Hailey. They shake hands and a devilish grin appears on her face. You knew that look all too well. “Awww wow the famous Joel!“ She slurs and a small blush creeps on your cheeks. Hailey then checks her phone and fakes a phone call.  Looks like I have to take this…! I’ll leave you two be.” she said as she scooted out of the chair. You take a deep breath as she walks toward the bathroom.

“She seems like a good time.” he jokes with a grin. You nod and sit up straight. “Oh trust me, she is. I know because I’ve known her for so long.” you say with a smile. Joel nods, clears his throat and takes a swig of his bear. You couldn’t help your eyes linger toward his fingers. The way his hand gripped the neck of the beer bottle. “The other day, I still can't thank you enough for taking care of Sarah,” he said. You shrugged and put your hand on your chest. “Joel again it's not a big deal, really. I was happy to do it.” He nods, “Still made a bad impression on ya. How ‘bout I buy you another drink, on me? Well, on Tommy because he got you into that mess.” he teased as he pointed to his brother, Tommy who’s eyes were focused on the dart board. “I shouldn't…it's getting late even for me.” you say apologetically. You then get up, and grab your purse. Joel unknowingly takes your wrist gently which sends shivers down your spine. “Please, it's the least I can do.” he said with a genuine look.  Another drink wouldn't hurt, right?   

You both sit at the bar, a good distance from Joel’s friends. Joel ordered another round for the two of you. There was a buzz that came from your phone. Your fingers tapped the screen. It shows a text from Hailey that read: “Ur welcome ;))” You knew that by now, she was now long gone from the bar. 

You had planned to meet Joel at the coffee shop on the following Wednesday. No matter what you did or thought, the butterflies in your stomach would not go away. You have been seeing the man more than you intended.    

Sitting down at the table, coffee already in hand while your fingers anxiously tapped on the glass mug. Your laptop was slightly open, preparing to sort out financials. You couldn’t let Hailey's words get to your head. 

Moments pass and you see Joel walking up to the door through the glass window. The bell on the door chimes and he immediately spots you and gives a smile and a wave. You wave back, he then gets in the short line to order the coffee. You couldn’t tell, but Joel was about to take any opportunity to get to know you better, even if it was for his daughter. 

The barista calls out for his name and he takes the mug, and begins to walk over to the table you’re sitting at.  

“Hey.” he smirks and sits down across from you and you smile and say hello as you tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. You both were doomed. “How are ya?” Joel asks, trying to make conversation. “Good, It’s one of my easier teaching days.” you say softly. “How about yourself?” you managed to squeak out. Why did Joel always make you feel this way? You barely knew the guy.  He shrugs and takes a deep breath, “Well, the contractin’ company is pretty busy right ‘bout now.. So I'll be honest, a bit exhausted. ” he chuckles and you smile. Then the two of you get to work with figuring out a good payment plan that was reasonable. Showing him the excel sheet you had set up on your laptop screen and making progress. 

You watch him as he slowly sips on his coffee. Then his deep brown eyes caught yours. “Good cup of joe. Don”t think I’ve ever heard of this place before.”  he licks his lips and places the cup back down on the table. “Probably the best place in Austin if you ask me. I probably come here at least 5 times a week.” you giggle and he laughs with you. Getting carried away and focusing back and sending him all the information he needs via email to keep up with the payments. 

“ I can’t thank you enough, Sarah can never stop talkin’ bout how she loves your class. Says you’re the kindest person. When I see the smile on her face after I pick her up I know this is all worth it.” he says as he looks at you. You smile, it was happy for you to hear. “I try my best to support my students any way I can. Sarah seems to have a natural talent. You should be proud.” You say and lightly touch his arm. He smiles at the contact, “Trust me, I am.” then nods.  

You both end up getting carried away in conversation, about the both of you. Joel likes that after you talk about something frustrating you scrunch your nose. Joel talks about how Sarah just wanted to try ballet to see if she would like it, and it’s working out just fine..After hearing you so passionately talking about your students, Joel couldn’t help but say, “If ya dont mind me askin’, what got you into teachin’ dance?”  You freeze for a moment and sigh. Joel notices the switch in your mood. “Well, it’s been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. My mom really encouraged my dream to pursue a career in dance ever since I was seven. She was the first one to really see my talent.” you say with a small smile. “Now I want to be that encouragement for my students.” Joel smiled at that answer and cleared his throat. “And Sarah mentioned you studied at a ballet school in Boston? Pretty damn impressive.” he said. You nod slightly and give him the fakest smile ever. You then turn your head to look out the window that was next to the both of you. 

Joel sensed he struck a nerve, and there was a part of you that was closed off. Especially talking about talking about your own experience with Ballet. He was determined to know what made you like that eventually.  

A few seconds passed and the waitress put the bill on the table. You grab it before Joel can and smile. “It's the least I can do since you bought me a drink last weekend!” you say as you grab your card out of your wallet. Joel huffs and holds his hands up in defeat and smirks. “Whatever you say, Ma’am.” he replies, like a true gentleman. Your legs went weak, you both knew you were in it now. 

[imsobadatnicknames2]

(GOAL REACHED) Emergency commissions/donations

Alright, I really hate to do this because I was convinced I was gonna be financially stable by this point, but something really bad just came out of left field, so.. here's the situation:

My husband moved from Mexico to live with me here in Colombia back in January

We got married in February, with the intention for him to apply for a migrant Visa

We were unable to apply for the Visa right away because we were saving up for the procedure. We ended up applying for it back at the start of June

His Visa application just got rejected, citing two reasons: we were supposed to provide photographic evidence that we're living together and sharing domestic responsibilities (which we weren't aware of), and by the time we applied he had already overstayed a bit over the time he could legally stay as a tourist

We can request an extension on his stay and apply for a Visa again, however, before we can do that we NEED to pay a fine for the time he overstayed. Otherwise the only option we have is to let him get deported back to Mexico, which would make him unable to enter the country for the next three years.

We have 60 days to pay for the fine, which is 2 million Colombian pesos. As of today's (June 29th 2023) exchange rate, that equals a little over 479 USD.

I know I've been kinda slow with music commissions due to being busy with my day job, but the situation being what it is, I'm gonna have to pick up the pace and also very politely ask for donations if you're able to.

Music commissions:

Previous work and examples:

I’ve previously done commissioned work for the D&D twitch show Dice and Dynamics by @fish-mouth and the RPG Maker game Those Infernal Girls by @zeddy-bear. I'm also one of the two members of the technical death metal band Beyond Flesh.

Some examples of my previous work:

Example 1

Example 2

Example 3

Example 4

Prices:

Base price: $5 (1 minute of music, 2 instrument tracks + 1 percussion track)

Extra instrument track: $2.50

Extra minute of music: $2.50

Commission slots (this section will be periodically updated as I get/ finish commissions):

SLOT 1: TAKEN (work in progress)

SLOT 2: TAKEN (on queue)

SLOT 3: Free

SLOT 4: Free

Donations:

Please don't feel obligated to donate, but if you're willing and able to do it, I would be very thankful

paypal.me/imsobadatnicknames

Other ways to support:

Here's my linktree which has links to all my past projects including music and TTRPG content. Most of them are Pay What You Want.

My husband also has art commissions open over at @uxrabbit

GOAL: $484 / $479

[dduane]

I hope this doesn't come off the wrong way, given the previous thing about different ways people write, but I just wanted to tell you because I'm so excited: I finished the first draft of that script! I actually finished a writing thing for the first time in over a decade! I've never attempted to write a script before, and now I've finished my first first draft. My friend said that's a big deal, and it makes writing other scripts much easier when you finish your first. Is that what you've found?

Oh apparently I have a few more questions, sorry: The first time you finished a project, and you knew you were on literally the last few paragraphs or scene, or what have you, how did that feel for you? And when you were done, did you initially love writing, or did you debate ever writing again? Did you start working on something right away, or did you break for a little bit?

Sorry, I'm just so excited and proud of myself right now, and wondering what feelings might come next. I haven't been this proud of myself in I don't know how long. I mean, I know I have to finalize it, and even still, I know I'll never be able to get it made. However, for right now, I'm proud of myself! I'll probably go back to being sad I'll never get it made tomorrow though, which sucks, but it's a good night right now!

I hope you're doing well today! Sorry for the bombardment of questions.

First of all: congratulations! You've got every right to be excited. Screenwriting isn't easy or simple even at the best of times. Doing it well requires that you write in ways that can seem really counterintuitive when compared to working in prose. And it's always, ALWAYS a big deal when by completing something you break a long creative dry spell. So GOOD ON YOU! You got the job done. :)

(And now, of course, comes rewrite. The brain—yours, or someone else's—always has notes. But I'm sure you knew that.)

While I know how it is to be relieved on finishing a first script, my weird work history makes me kind of an outlier when it comes to discussing this. I went with unexpected speed from "I'm Just A First-Time Novelist, What Do I Know?" to "I'm Just A First-Time Screenwriter, What Do—WAIT WHAT??". Because the man who was soon to be my story editor on Scooby and Scrappy-Doo walked in the door one evening, having just read The Door Into Fire, and said, "Would you be interested in writing cartoons?"

It was kind of a surprising career development, but I quickly learned at that point in my life that when the Universe turns up on your doorstep with the Moon on a silver platter, you don't tell it to try next door: you say "Wait right there and I'll get a knife and fork." In the space of a given month of being walked around Hanna-Barbera for the first time, I turned in my first animation script... and then sagged in my chair on getting the phone call when my story editors told me, "That's a strong start. Now we have some notes." And all I could do was collapse with relief that I had not fucked it up.

However, this situation also left me in no position where I'd be able to debate ever writing a screenplay again... because suddenly there were a couple of very intent guys telling me "Okay, new story premise coming over to you, we need the outline by next Thursday and the script the Thursday after, you okay with that?"

(Are you kidding me? I thought. Let me get the knife and fork!)

So as I said, I'm really an outlier in this regard. The next three years of my life pretty much went as above, as Tom Swale and Duane Poole (great Thoth rest both their gentle souls) took me with them from one show to another, and kept me busy. (Thereby financing the writing of So You Want To Be A Wizard and The Wounded Sky and assorted other work.) But there's no question that each time you finish a script, each time you type FADE TO BLACK, you feel better about the whole enterprise. It doesn't precisely get easier. But it gets more familiar. And that helps. (If I have to be locked in a haunted house, I'd sooner it was one I'd played in when I was a kid than one I'd never been inside before...)

Anyway, again: congratulations. But also: Do not be too sure you'll never have it made. ...Granting you that "made" can look a lot of different ways in different times and places, and can shift under your feet without warning. But the world that depends on scripts can do very, very weird and unusual things without warning. Best to do your homework and be ready for them... and know where the knife and fork are.

Also, a side note: As you do more of this work you may well find that finishing a script leaves you with more energy, not less. I think this may be a lot more normal than we routinely allow ourselves to believe. It makes sense to me, from the psych-nurse end of things, that successful completion of a project allows the release of a lot of energy that you've been holding in reserve to help you cope if something went horribly wrong with the piece of work you just finished. Me, when I've felt that rush, I do a thing that C. J. Cherryh taught me: immediately roll another sheet of paper into the typewriter. ...Though these days, it'd be "open a new file." You don't necessarily have to do anything with that blank page or screen if you don't want to. But it's wise to be ready.

In any case: all the good luck to you (because sheer blind luck plays its part in this business, no matter how much we wish all our hard work counted for more)! ...And let us know how you get on.

[sunshine-for-serotonin]

I was just crocheting a scarf for my stuffed koala bear (who's name is indeed Erik) and was just thinking how adorable a drabble would be from you of someone doing the same for Erik, either book!Erik or musical!Erik, probably with plenty of him calling them maman and probably getting in the way like the clingy bug her is. If you could write something even small for that I'm sure it would be utterly adorable ^w^

Omg, that IS adorable! Thank you for this idea!!

Contains tumblr reference because reader is modern and also because I thought I was hilarious (read: I am sleep deprived).

The block of French Erik speaks to you translates to: “I want to cuddle with you! Erik needs cuddles! Please, mommy!”

Erik had been staring at you for the past fifteen minutes as you crocheted the black yarn into previous stitches. The scarf you were making for Erik was coming along nicely, though you couldn’t help but lament the fact that you weren’t able to keep it as a surprise for him, seeing as he followed you around like a puppy all hours of the day and then some, far after you had fallen asleep. But looking on the bright side, your babydoll probably didn’t even realize that the scarf was for him, if he knew it was a scarf in the first place. Your current situation was more than a little awkward if you were honest, the gangly man hadn’t even bothered to sit down, instead hovering to your right as close as he could get before the arm of the settee cut into his legs. Pausing at the end of your round, you gazed up at Erik, who in response turned red and began to fidget with his fingers, shifting his slight weight from one foot to the other.

“Are you okay, sugar? Do you need something?”

“M-maman, I…I want…I want…” Flushing further, Erik turned his gaze from his long fingers and stole a shy glance at your eyes before quickly averting them once more.

“What is it, babydoll? You can tell me.”

A small whimper left Erik’s throat as he tried to formulate his words, locked in a battle between his insecurities and his overwhelming desire for your love. Eventually, however, his need for you won out as a small plea made itself known to your ears.

“Mommy, maman…I-I…je veux faire des câlins avec vous! Erik a besoin de câlins! S’il vous plaît, maman!”

“As much as I would love to cuddle with you, babydoll, I kind of have my hands-”

You hadn’t even been able to finish your sentence before the tears began to fall from Erik’s eyes down to his misshapen cheeks. Collapsing to his knees at the settees side, Erik grasped your arm through his sobbing and pulled it over the edge and to his torso, clutching it like a makeshift teddy bear.

“-full. …oh, Erik.” With a small sigh, you moved to untangle your arm from Erik’s hold.

At the feeling of you shifting away from him, Erik was sent into a frenzied panic.

“No, No, No, No! Don’t leave your Erik! Please! Stay! Stay with poor, unhappy, Erik! Erik wants maman, his angel, his (Y/N), to stay!”

By the time you had managed to get your arm free, Erik had begun hyperventilating and as soon as you left his grasp, Erik’s hands went to cover his face whilst he cried, further blocking his air intake. Hurriedly pushing your crochet items to the side, you ran to the side of the settee and knelt down to Erik’s level, moving his hands from his face and wrapping him tightly in your arms. The pressure of you pulling him towards you seemed to do the trick, as Erik slowly started to calm down, regardless of how the tears still fell from his eyes.

“Oh, lovely…shh, shh, shhhh, it’s okay. It’s okay, sugar, I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

“Please, maman, Erik needs cuddles! Erik needs his (Y/N)!” Erik whimpered, still sobbing.

“Oh babydoll, I know, I know, I know. But Erik, the project I’m working on right now is for someone very important! So I need some time to finish it, but I’m almost done! In fact, it should only take me about another half hour since I’d worked on it some days prior!”

“But maman, Erik needs câlins! Please! If he doesn’t get them, Erik will surely perish!”

“Being a little dramatic are we, babydoll?” You chuckled gently.

Shaking his head no, Erik gripped you tighter, trying to signify that, yes, if you didn’t give him all your love and attention soon he thought he would actually die.

“Tell you what, babydoll, you can sit yourself right with me while I work, and as soon as I’m done, we can cuddle all your darling little heart desires. And-” You cut your self off to give Erik a quick kiss, smiling at how Erik tried to deepen it before you pulled away, a miserable whine leaving him at the loss of contact, and wipe away his tears. “-if you’re good for me, I’ll give you any kind of reward you want later.”

“Do you promise, maman? Do you swear to give your Erik your love?”

“I do, babydoll. Now let’s move back to the settee and you can sit with me, I’m sure it’s much more comfortable than the floor.”

“Merci, maman!”

—————————————————————————

“Erik, when I said you could sit with me, this is not at all what I meant and you know it. Do we have to sit like this?”

The only response you were given was Erik’s arms tightening around you and the nodding of his head against your skin. Currently he was perched in your lap with his arms around your neck as your hands rested around his waist, holding your almost finished scarf, hook, and yarn while you struggled to see over top of the man’s boney shoulder to continue your work. ‘So be it.’ You thought to yourself doing your best to count stitches and keep the yarn from tangling in your grip. As you continued on, Erik couldn’t help but steal a few kisses from your lips every five minutes to try and hold himself over until he could have your full attention, before tucking his disfigured face back into the crook of your neck until the yearning for your lips on his became overwhelming once more.

Finally, after a few minutes more, you were able to fasten off your row and cut the excess yarn.

“Alright, babydoll, I need you where I can see you!”

A whiny noise of displeasure left Erik as you tried to separate yourself from his hold, if anything Erik only gripped you tighter the more you tried to push him back.

“Erik, I promise, just this last thing and then I can hold you as long as you want, and you can hold me to.”

As Erik reluctantly drew himself away from you and sat up straight, you were reminded of just how tall the disfigured man before you was, silently laughing to yourself as Erik, so known for his genius and being a creature of the night to the few who knew him, looked at you and sulked at the loss of your touch. Gripping the freshly made black scarf, you delicately draped the material over Erik’s neck and wrapped it around his shoulders, not missing the look of wonder in his eyes as more tears welled in his sockets.

“Maman, is this really for Erik? For Erik to keep and treasure?”

“Yes babydoll, it’s for you. I even stitched the initials ‘O.G.’ into one end with some white-”

You were cut off by Erik’s happy wails, soon followed up by cold lips working feverishly against your own as though trying to consume your entire being.

“Merci, merci, merci, maman! Je t’aime! Je t’aime! Je t’aime!! Erik loves you, (Y/N)!!”

“I love you too, Erik. Now then, did you want to cuddle out here or in your room?” ‘Since I finally convinced you to get a proper bed with the promise of being able to hold each other more comfortably.’

“In my room, Erik wants to cuddle in his chambers!”

“Alright darling, we can if you wish. …I just realized you sound very much like a tumblr post back in my timeline with a cat named Miette.”

Shooting you a puzzled look, Erik halted in getting off of you.

“Pardon, Erik speaks like what?”

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing. Like I said babydoll, it’s something from my original timeline.”

“Mmm, Alright…”

As soon as he stood up, Erik wasted no time scooping you up in his arms, successfully reminding you just how freakishly strong Erik was for his frame, and carrying you towards his room.

———————————————————————————

@sloppyzengarden

[aftermathfanfic]

Part 4, Chapter 1

Uncle Scrooge stood in front of him, one hand on his cane. His hat was resting on a nearby countertop, and he wore a strange, guilty expression.

“I’m sorry, Louie.” He told him quietly. “I should’ve been there.”

“Mm-hm.” Louie grunted noncommittedly.

~~~

Three Years Ago

Louie sat silently in the armchair, his gaze levelled at a cup of water he was clutching in his hands. The only sound in the room was the ticking of the wall-mounted clock and the scribbling of pen against paper, a few feet in front of him.

“…Can you tell me what triggered your panic attack?” Asked Dr. Lake, his voice calm and measured.

“…Yeah.” Louie murmured. He took his hands out of his pockets, laying them on his legs as he talked. “Um… so, I was at my uncle’s Money Bin. Apparently, some thieves had broken in, tried to steal stuff… the Beagle Boys, apparently. No idea how they got in. Me and my brothers went over when we heard about it… not that we needed to, it was all wrapped up by the time we got there. We saw the police were taking some of them away, and they were searching them… fishing gold out of their pockets and everything.

“I came over, saw this, like… gold ingot that had fallen on the floor. And I…” Louie swallowed, forcing himself to continue. “…I saw my reflection in it. Like I’d seen in the… in the dagger.” Louie took a moment, then finished, “And I just… same thing that happened with my golden khopesh. I just… froze up, couldn’t breathe right… it felt like I was back in that room, like…”

“Like you couldn’t escape?” Lake suggested.

“…Yeah.”

Louie fell silent. He heard the doctor scribble something else down.

“…And what did your family do, when you had your attack?” Dr. Lake asked.

Louie shrugged. “Took me home. Huey calmed me down, he’s, uh… really good at doing that. And I just watched TV for the rest of the day.”

Louie looked into the cup, his tired reflection staring back at him.

“…I used to really like gold.” He murmured.

“Did you like it because it was valuable, or for what it represented?”

“Both. Kinda. Having gold meant that you were rich.”

“And what does it mean to you now?”

Louie shrugged again. “I don’t know.” He mumbled.

The therapist was quiet for a moment. Louie looked up at the older drake, swaddled in an old grey turtleneck. He put his notepad down, then asked, “These panic attacks, they occur whenever something happens that reminds you of that… ‘adventure’, yes?”

“Yeah.” Louie nodded. “That’s why we don’t go on adventures anymore.”

“And the nightmares… do they occur in response to similar stimulus?”

Louie shook his head. “No, the nightmares just happen whenever. There’s no… rhyme or reason to them.”

“I see… and do you tell your family about the nightmares?”

“No… but they know.”

“And they take care of you when you have your panic attacks? You mentioned that your brother Huey is good at calming you down.”

“Yeah, yeah. They take care of me.”

Dr. Lake wrote down another note. “…Let’s go back to your last ‘adventure’, where this all started. Are you comfortable if we do that?”

“…Yeah.”

“In one of our previous sessions, you mentioned how the incident started off as a ‘routine adventure’.” The doctor recalled, flipping through his notes. “Could you remind me… what constitutes as a ‘routine’ adventure?”

“Uh… ancient ruins, deathtraps, treasure that’s either cursed or protected by another, scarier deathtrap…” Louie explained. “You know, like those Ford Windfall movies.”

“And you’ve always felt safe on those trips?”

“…Yeah? Like, it- it’s dangerous, but Uncle Scrooge always has our back.”

“You feel as if your uncle protects you?”

“…Why wouldn’t I?” Louie asked, confused.

“He doesn’t force you to go on these trips? You have the choice of staying behind?”

“Of course I- What do you mean? What is this?” Louie demanded.

“Calm down.” Lake said steadily. “I’m not trying to be accusatory. I’m just trying to get a better understanding of your… situation.”

“Really? ‘Cause it sounds like you’re saying that- that it’s my family’s fault that- that I’m like this!” Louie accused him.

Dr. Lake didn’t say anything, his face pensive. He leant forward in his chair, his hands clasped. “Louie… if I could speak frankly…” He said slowly. “Your family has a very unique lifestyle.”

“Yeah, we’re adventurers.” Louie retorted.

“I know that. But please, try to understand… there are very few children who live a lifestyle like yours. And those children are typically… quite troubled.”

Louie didn’t say anything.

“There are many people who would say that your circumstances aren’t healthy for a growing mind.” Lake continued. “And if your uncle didn’t have the reputation that he has… well, it’d be seen as a case of neglect, or abuse, even. I-”

“Abuse?” Louie spluttered. “You think my family’s- what the hell do you know about my family?”

“I’m saying this is how your circumstances can be perceived. These aren’t my views, and I don’t personally believe this to be a case of abuse. But I do think that your family might have had a role to play, however unwittingly, in your trauma. All I want is to get to…”

Louie stopped listening. He couldn’t hear him. He felt his breathing quickening, his heart racing, the doctor’s words flying back and forth in his head. The cup shook in his hands, there was a ringing in his ears, and-

~~~

He was in a doctor’s clinic.

He was sitting on a bare white bed, a bloodied bandage wrapped around his midsection. His hands were in his lap, and he felt exhausted.

Uncle Scrooge stood in front of him, one hand on his cane. His hat was resting on a nearby countertop, and he wore a strange, guilty expression.

“I’m sorry, Louie.” He told him quietly. “I should’ve been there.”

“Mm-hm.” Louie grunted noncommittedly.

Both Louie and June had been whisked away to the village doctor’s clinic the moment the family had escaped from Castelo de Cristo. Both of their injuries were flesh wounds, though June had lost a lot more blood than Louie had. It took a while for her to wake up, and neither Donald, May nor Webby left her side until she did. When Louie saw her, she was sporting bandages around her head that held a thick gauze to her wound.

Louie’s complication was the poison – the bulezau’s barbed tail had delivered a potent venom into his system. It was a small dose, thankfully, but it was still enough to warrant an overnight stay at the clinic.

Scrooge was talking again. Louie wasn’t listening. He just nodded dumbly and said, ‘Okay’ whenever the talking stopped. Eventually, Scrooge left the room, leaving Dewey as the only other person in the room, sitting in a nearby chair. Louie didn’t look at him. He just looked at the ground, his hands in his lap, and the tortured expression of the murdered girl burned into his retinas. He remained in that state for the rest of the day. It still hurt to move, and he needed to lean on Dewey to walk, so all he could do was sit on the bed and wait.

They were back on the plane in what felt like no time at all, and the flight felt like it only took an hour. Louie kept his distance from the others, sitting up on the upper level buried in his hoodie. He didn’t speak for the whole trip, not even when they landed back at the mansion. Huey and Della immediately rushed to his side, helping him walk back into the house and worrying ceaselessly over him, and Louie saw the other adults rushing out of the house as well.

Louie didn’t think he’d ever seen Daisy so terrified. She ran up to June immediately, hugging her tightly and apologizing profusely over and over again. June didn’t look like she knew how to react at all. She just lent dumbly into her foster mother’s embrace, allowing herself to be led back into the house with Donald and May in tow.

Webby followed them with Mrs. Beakley beside her. Neither she nor Louie spared a glance at each other.

Louie was taken to his bedroom by his mom, with both his brothers in tow. He had to move slow, every step causing a dull pain in his stomach. He was sat down gently on his bed, Della kneeling before him. “Hey,” she said softly. “How are you feeling?”

Louie grunted weakly, holding his wound.

“Do you want a can of Pep?”

“…Yeah.”

“Coming right up.” She stood back up, looking at all three of them. “You don’t have to worry about going to school tomorrow. We’ve told them what’s… well, we’ve given them a sanitised version of the story. You’ve all been through enough without having to angst about tests and stuff.”

Dewey frowned. “What happened to Huey?”

“…Something happened while you were away.” Della replied evasively. “But we don’t have to get into it now. What’s important is that you all recover from this, so you’ll stay at home. We’ll set up some sessions with Dr. Lake, maybe a-”

“No.” Louie interrupted.

“…Louie, you can’t-”

“You guys can do whatever you want, but I’m not seeing him.” Louie declared stubbornly.

“…Alright.” Della sighed. “You need to physically recover first, anyway. Just rest up, don’t exert yourself… if you need anything, just call me or your brothers. Okay?”

“Yep.”

Della gave him a weak smile, then left the three of them in the room.

Once she was out of earshot, Louie looked up at Huey. “Tell us what happened while we were gone.” He told him bluntly.

Huey hesitated. “…Louie, I don’t think you need to be-”

“I need to distract myself, Huey. Anything to stop me from thinking about last adventure or the pain, okay?”

“Or the stuff you said to Webby.” Dewey added, giving him a look.

“…I was kinda hoping I’d dreamt that.” Louie muttered.

“Well, you didn’t, and I feel like she deserves an apology.”

“Later. Now’s too soon.”

“What did you say to Webby?” Huey asked slowly.

“Just- tell us what happened.” Louie all but begged him. “Whatever it was, I can guarantee that it wasn’t as fucked up as what happened to us.”

“Language.” Huey chastised him.

With both of his brothers looking at him now, he sighed, reluctantly explaining, “If you must know, I got accosted at school the other day by someone from the FBI.”

“The what?” Dewey exclaimed in disbelief.

“…The Federal Bureau of Invest-”

“I meant like ‘what the hell’, dude. I know what the FBI is.” Dewey replied, annoyed.

Louie leaned forward, wincing as he did. “…What did the FBI want with you? Did they confuse you for me or something?”

“No, they- wait, why would they want to talk to you?”

“I dunno, I’m just the more suspicious one.”

“…Right. Well, what he wanted…” Huey continued, sitting on Louie’s desk chair. “And this is where it gets weird – he wanted me to talk about the Other Bin. Where we keep the dangerous stuff.”

“The…” Dewey frowned. “Isn’t that, like, top secret? I mean, we didn’t even know about it for like, two years.”

“It is. But he knew about it somehow. Or at least, he knew about some of the items we keep down there.”

“How?”

“No idea. But I did some research, and the guy who spoke to me…” Huey pulled out his phone. “His name is Agent Nickel, and – this is where it gets even weirder – he’s behind this.”

He brought up a picture of a large, dark figure being shoved into a police car, showing it to both of them. Louie narrowed his eyes at what he saw, asking cautiously, “That’s… that’s that ‘Phantom Blot’ guy, isn’t it?”

“Yep. And this…” Huey swiped through his gallery. “…is Steelbeak, being brought in by the Arizona police. And this is Rockerduck,” He added, swiping to the next picture. “Also getting arrested. And this one- well, we didn’t fight him, but he was one of FOWL’s administrators. All of these senior-level FOWL agents, everyone who fled from the fight at Alexandria, almost all of them are in prison now – and this Agent Nickel guy was behind all of those arrests.”

“Holy crap…” Dewey murmured.

“Lang-”

“This guy brought down FOWL! I mean, we defeated them first, but he- wait, shouldn’t this mean that he’s on our side?” Dewey questioned confusedly. “He obviously knows FOWL were the bad guys, why’s he after us?”

“I don’t know.” Huey admitted, putting his phone away. “It doesn't make sense.”

“Maybe he’s covering his tracks?” Louie suggested. “Like…” He winced as he shifted his position, “…there’s no way that this guy just happened to know exactly where all of these FOWL guys were hiding out. That’s something you can only learn from the inside.”

“You mean Nickel’s ex-FOWL?” Huey frowned. “That explains the arrests, but what does he have to gain by going after Uncle Scrooge?”

Louie shrugged. “Dunno.”

He felt his phone ping in his hoodie pocket. He frowned, pulling it out and looking at it.

It was from Doofus Drake.

“So, what happens now?” Dewey asked. “Like, we can’t go on another adventure if we’re being watched by the government, right?”

“I don’t think we’d be going on another adventure regardless.” Huey replied flatly. “Not after what happened on this one.”

Louie put his phone away, trying not to betray the surge of panic he’d gotten. “Yeah, nah, dude. This adventure was a disaster.”

The door opened again, and Della stepped in with a cool glass of Pep in her hand. “Hey, dudes.” She handed the glass over to Louie. “Here you go.”

“Thanks, mom.” Louie murmured, taking the glass and taking a long sip of it. After a moment, he asked quietly, “Could I be, like, left alone for a bit?”

“You sure? You don’t want to talk about-”

“No.” Louie replied brusquely. Hesitating, he added less harshly, “Not… yet. I just… need to be alone.”

Della shared a concerned look with her other two sons, then replied, “…Alright. If you need anything, just shoot a text to me or your brothers, ‘kay?”

“Yeah.”

Della hesitated, then added, “…You don’t have to see the doctor if you don’t want to. But you should still talk to someone about stuff like this. Trust me, if you just let it stew…”

“Yeah, I know.”

Reluctantly, they left his room, leaving Louie alone. He waited a few moments after they left, listening to their footsteps disappear down the corridor, then he pulled his phone out again, checking Doofus’s message.

I see you’ve returned, it read. Bring my present to where we last met. Sooner rather than later.

“God… fuck.” Louie swore under his breath. He stood up, wincing at the pain, and trudged to his door. He opened it, looking down both directions of the corridor, just in case either of his brothers were secretly listening. Seeing nobody, he shut his door and hobbled back to his bed, dialling the number that the text had come from.

Only a few seconds later, there was an answer from the other end. “Llewellyn.” Doofus greeted him boredly.

“Hey, Doofus, buddy!” Louie replied, trying to sound confident. “Hey, look, I’m gonna just say it and save us both a car trip – I don’t have a treasure for you.”

“…Is that so?” Doofus replied disinterestedly.

“Yeah, I know. I know how it looks, but the thing is-” Louie bit back a hiss of pain as he sat down on the bed. “…my uncle had been duped. There wasn’t any treasure for me to grab, so- so you can’t exactly blame me for not-”

“I thought I was clear, Llewellyn.” Doofus interrupted him. “Bring me my trinkets, or your school finds something… unpleasant in your locker.”

“I know, but there- there were no trinkets to nab.” Louie chuckled nervously. “You gotta understand that!”

“I believe I mentioned, last we spoke, about perusing your uncle’s collection?”

“That’s not an alternative. He’ll know, man.”

“We both know that’s not my problem.”

“Look, just- be reasonable.” Louie groaned. Thinking quickly, he told him, “My family goes adventuring every weekend, right? Why can’t I just get you something on our next adventure?”

“And give you and Chanda time to ruin me?”

Louie froze. He heard Doofus chuckle and remark, “Yes… I know you two are plotting against me. Really, Llewellyn? Trying to wriggle out the moment you’re out of earshot?”

Louie took a few moments to compose his answer, replying carefully, “…Guys like us don’t like being blackmailed, Doof. I feel like you’d do something similar in my position.”

“Hm.” Doofus sounded amused.

Louie sighed, continuing, “Look, your blackmail isn’t going to work anyway. I don’t know if you caught on from how awful my voice sounds right now, but I’m not going into school this week. And if a bag of weed just magically shows up in my locker when I’m not even there, I can refute that easily, can’t I?”

When Doofus didn’t respond, Louie insisted, “You have to give me a week.”

“…Hm.” Doofus didn’t sound so amused this time.

After a moment, he said coldly, “Next Sunday. I want something by then.”

“I can get you something by Sunday.” Louie lied.

“And I expect it to be gift-wrapped.” Doofus added before hanging up.

“Of course, yeah.” Louie chuckled to himself in the brief moments before his smile vanished. “Fuck you. Fuck you all the way to Hell.”

He slowly laid down on his bed, throwing his phone to the side and staring hopelessly up at the ceiling. He already knew he was going to have a bad week.

~~~

Bentina handed Webby a glass of water. “Here. This will help.”

“…Thanks.” Webby mumbled, taking the glass and taking a sip.

They were in Webby’s room, on the library floor. Webby was sitting on the stairs leading up to her proper bedroom, with Bentina kneeling before her. She had a hand on her granddaughter’s shoulder, looking sympathetically into her eyes.

“…Do you need anything else?” Bentina asked.

Webby shook her head, taking another sip of water. “No.”

Bentina was quiet for a moment, before saying softly, “Those men… they were trying to kill you.”

“I know.”

“If it hadn’t been for whoever saved you, you would be in a much worse place. You know that?”

Webby frowned, looking up at her. “Are… you trying to make me feel better about it?”

“I’m trying to make you understand that it couldn’t have gone any other way.” Bentina told her. When Webby didn’t respond, Bentina insisted, “It had to be done.”

“…I don’t like that idea.” Webby murmured.

That’s because you’re young, Bentina thought to herself. But she said nothing, only looked at her granddaughter sadly.

“…I’ll get you something sweeter.” She decided, standing up. “Apple juice?”

“…Yes, please.”

Bentina left the room, leaving the door open behind her. She made her way to the kitchen, where she found Donald, Daisy, and Scrooge having a hushed conversation. They stopped as she entered, though it didn’t escape Bentina’s notice that their words had a somewhat heated edge.

“…How’s Webby?” Daisy asked anxiously.

“It’ll take a while. But she’ll be fine.” Bentina replied. “May and June?”

“…May’s alright.” Daisy answered her, worry painted across her face. “But June… she’s barely said a word since she got back. It’s like she’s catatonic.”

“She’s had a head wound. She’ll recover in time.”

She walked over to the fridge, opening it and pulling out a bottle of juice.

“You can stop blaming yourselves, by the way.” Bentina added over her shoulder.

“It was our adventure.” Donald lamented, shaking his head.

“We sent them there, Bentina.” Daisy insisted. “June and Louie got hurt – seriously hurt – because we didn’t see this coming.”

“How would you have seen this coming?” Bentina questioned simply, walking over and putting the bottle on the table. “Our research gave no indication that anyone had lived in those ruins for centuries. And the only hint we would have had of them was a single missing person report. There was no way you could have known.”

“Goldie did.” Scrooge spoke up miserably. “She up and told me to my face. I didn’t listen.”

Bentina frowned. She opened up one of the cupboards, replying, “Well, you’ve made worse lapses in judgement.”

Scrooge gave her an angry glare. “A lass died, Bentina. Barely older than the kids.”

“And sitting here, feeling sorry for ourselves, will not bring her back or make the children feel any better.” Bentina said dryly. She put down the glass for Webby, inquiring, “You contacted the Portuguese authorities, yes? You told them what happened?”

“…I gave them a truncated version of it, aye.”

“And her family has her body?”

“Aye.”

“Then that is all that we can do.” Bentina told them simply, pouring the glass.

The kitchen door opened again. Della walked in, looking just as tired as the rest of them. “Hey.” She murmured. The others greeted her back.

“How are the boys?” Donald quacked concernedly.

“…Dewey’s handling it pretty well.” Della sighed, heading over to the fridge and reaching towards the top. “That boy’s unshakeable. But Louie…”

She took down a bottle of Irish whisky, admitting, “…He’s not gonna be okay for a while. He’s been doing so well, opening up to us and everything, but after this… I wouldn’t be surprised if he starts pushing us away again.” She laid out a number of glasses on the table, asking, “Anyone want some?”

They all nodded, save Bentina. Della poured the four drinkers a shot each, then promptly drank hers in one gulp. Everyone else took a sip of their glass.

“God, those poor fuckin’ parents.” Della muttered, pouring herself another shot. “Can’t imagine what they’re going through right now.”

“If it hadn’t been for that gunman, we’d be going through it too.” Donald mumbled.

“God… the idea of losing one of them makes me wanna puke.” Della winced. Holding up her glass, she asked frustratedly. “And we have no idea who that guy was? Not even a hint?”

“Nope.”

“Great.” Della muttered, downing her drink. “One more mystery to deal with.”

Donald nodded. Then, he frowned, looking up at her. “…One more?”

“Huey got accosted by someone at school.” Daisy muttered, her drink untouched. “From the FBI, apparently, talking about-”

Scrooge suddenly bent over in a coughing fit, slamming his half-finished drink on the table. He waved them away as they came to try and support him, thumping his chest as he cleared out his throat. When it was over, he looked back up at his family in shock and anger.

“…What?” He hissed.

[honeyhotteoks]

into the aurora - chapter twelve (ot8)

chapter eleven: a late, late night

note: thank you to everyone who's been so patient waiting for this chapter. if you've been following me, you know that i had covid right after posting chapter eleven and it affected me a lot more than i would have expected. i'm feeling much better, and getting back to a normal writing schedule! thank you for waiting & i love you guys 🖤

chapter summary: you never can keep your hands off him with the studio door closed, and he doesn't seem to mind

warnings: nothing specific for this chapter

pairings: ot8 x reader

genre: fluff, angst, romance, ateez ensemble x reader, polyamory, non-idol!reader, fem!reader, eventual smut

word count: 5.1K

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It’s nearly nine o’clock by the time you and Hongjoong remember that dinner exists and is a thing you’re probably supposed to eat. You’ve been locked together for hours, the workday fading away into background noise and nothing but both of your personal projects open in front of you as you work together.

You pull your headphones off as you check the time and grimace, at this hour the only people left in the building would be cleaning staff and maybe Eden, and the restaurants that you can think of to order from are getting ready to start closing.

“Joong,” you nudge his arm, and he holds up a loose hand, asking you silently to give him a minute.

You watch the way he studies his screen, and he nods as he finishes out his thought to himself, before sliding off his own headphones and cracking his neck, “What’s up?”

You rub your eyes a little, “We should get some food,”

“Ah,” he checks his phone, “probably,”

“You have a heavy schedule tomorrow,” you nudge him, “you should eat and make sure you’re ready for it.”

He sighs and stretches in his chair, “I’m fine,”

“Sure,” you nod, “but you should still eat something.”

“Mm,” he nods, and you can see the exhaustion in his eyes as he thinks it through. He seems torn between ordering in and staying at the office or heading home and picking up food on the way, he’s easy to read that way.

“We should cut it for tonight,” you offer, “don’t you have to be up at five?”

“Oh, I know,” he shrugs, “but I’m feeling good and I’m on a roll,”

“Okay,” you nod, pulling out your phone, “what’s open around here right now?”

“y/n,” Hongjoong leans forwards in his chair, resting a hand on your knee softly, “you don’t have to stay with me, you know. If you’d rather go home and get some rest,”

“Oh,” you meet his eyes, “if you want some space to work alone you can always ask me,”

“Oh no, no,” he shakes his head vehemently, resting his other hand on your other knee, “I like having you here, I just don’t want you to stay just for me if you’re tired,”

“I’m not tired,” you shake your head, though if you were being honest, you really, really are.

After a moment, with his hands still on you, he leans forwards a little in his chair, “I should be asking you what you need, I’m sorry. What do you want to eat? My treat, and we can work wherever you want, here or home,”

You know things like this are hard for him. You’ve noticed the way he separates himself from the group a little, intensely focused on his work and filling his personal time with more and more music. He takes his leadership position seriously, but that also means he gets singularly focused, fixated, and forgetful about the little things. Being in a relationship with him could easily be trying if you weren’t passionate about the same things, and if this were a normal partnership, you’re sure you’d barely see him.

“I’ll eat anything,” you shrug, “but let’s go home, I think a change of scenery would be good.”

“We can do that,” he assures you.

You turn in your chair to reach for your laptop and close it, but Hongjoong makes no moves to follow you, or to take his hands off you and you glance back, realizing that he’s watching you with a disconnected look in his eyes.

You pull back to center and catch his eyes, “You’re exhausted, I can tell,”

He shakes his head, “It’s not that,”

He’s lying to you, just a little white lie, but you don’t press him. His thumb massages a circle on your knee through the fabric of your trousers, and he presses his lips together in a tight line for a moment. You’re about to ask what’s wrong when he reaches for you, pulling you forwards quickly and locking his mouth to yours.

              You make a squeak of surprise, certainly not expecting him to kiss you, but recover quickly, relaxing into his touch. It’s been weeks since you arrived, and you were spending more and more time with him, but up to this point he’s never made a move. You were used to the boys cornering you in the kitchen now or pulling you into their arms to cuddle on the couch, but Hongjoong never did.

              He cups the back of your neck with his warm hand and sighs against your mouth, his other hand sliding up the outside of your thigh. Your knees part, and he slides his chair forwards, your legs interlocking now as he deepens the kiss, probing your mouth with his tongue.

              You push forwards, one of your hands anchored on his shoulder while the other holds onto his upper arm. He kisses with intensity, and this is the first time it feels like he’s throwing out the need to think things through and instead just feel. The position between the chairs isn’t conducive to anything more, but you gasp against his mouth when his hand slips under the hemline of your shirt to find your bare back.

              His teeth catch your bottom lip as you pull away and when your eyes flutter back open to meet his, his direct stare burns through you, the sensation of his skin on yours, a sudden curling tightness in your gut.

              “Joong,” you breathe, but you can’t quite come up with anything more to say.

              His hands slip off you and he pushes his chair back and away, moving to stand and pack up his bag. He keeps his eyes away from you, and the sudden tension between you doesn’t make sense, the way he seems to be running hot and cold. You watch him for a minute, still not meeting your eyes and focused on packing up his things, clearing his throat quietly shrugging on his coat, pulling a beanie on over his hair.

              Standing, you approach him and rest a hand on his arm, “What’s wrong?”

              “What?” He glances to the side at your hand on his arm and shakes his head, “Nothing, nothing.”

              “Then what’s all this?” You nod towards him, “You’re acting strange.”

              His face clears and he finally looks back to you, “I’m sorry,” he says genuinely.

              You move around to face him eye to eye and rest your hands on his forearms, “So, what’s wrong?”

              He shakes his head, “We just shouldn’t do that here,”

              “Oh,” you nod, “of course, but it’s okay, we’re alone.”

              “y/n,” he sighs.

              “I’m not saying we should,” you clarify, “I’m saying you don’t need to be upset, we slipped for a second but we’re alone in a room without windows. No one saw us, and we won’t do it again.”

              He considers your words for a moment and nods. “It’s my fault,” he says, “I had a momentary lapse in judgement,”

              “It’s okay,” you repeat, “but you know, it was nice. For later, at home.”

              He smiles finally, “I’m sorry I panicked,”

              “It’s fine,” you assure him.

              “It was nice though,” he smiles, quirking an eyebrow at you, “right?”

              “Really, really nice,”

              He watches you for a moment, considering, and then he’s crowding you again before you can take another breath, pushing into your space suddenly and walking you backwards until your back connects with the door. His mouth secures to yours and his hands are suddenly everywhere. His bag slips from his shoulder, landing softly with a thud on the ground and he deepens the kiss, a groan on his lips as he presses his body against yours.

              You stretch up on tip toe to match his height better and loop your arms around his shoulders, his hands slip inside your shirt, pushing up the fabric just enough for one hand to coast warmly along your stomach before anchoring on your hip. His tongue flicks against yours, and his fingers squeeze you perfectly, one of his knees slotting between your open thighs.

              “Hongjoong,” you murmur against his mouth, “we have to stop,”

              “I know,” he says when he breaks the kiss for a moment, but he drags you back to his mouth, his hands rucking up your shirt higher.

              You gasp against his lips as his fingers brush the underside of your breast, coasting along the mesh of your bra and cupping the soft swell in his palm. Things are escalating quickly, and when he pulls you from your closed in position against the door to walk you back to the couch and push you gently down onto the cushions you feel your brain spinning.

              “Oh my god,” you groan against his lips when he settles above you between your now open knees, dropping his weight down above you and cupping your jaw as he devours your mouth again.

              “You’re so,” he shakes his head, regarding you in the dim studio light, “fuck, I don’t know,”

              You smile up at him, “What is it?”

              “You make me want to do stupid things, y/n,” he bites his lip quickly as he looks down at you, “and this is really, really stupid,”

              “We should stop,” you tell him honestly, even though you want nothing more than to keep going right here on this couch, “the door’s not even locked,”

              He blinks and glances over his shoulder, remembering himself immediately and pushing up and off you, clearing his throat and sighing, “We need to go home,”

              “Yeah,” you agree, pulling yourself up and smoothing down your hair, “home,”

              He starts to pack up your bag for you, letting you take a minute to right your clothes and look a little less conspicuous. When he turns back to you, he smiles and passes you the bag, “You should fix your lipstick,”

              Your hand flies to your lips and you blush before rifling through your back for the little hand mirror you know is somewhere inside, “How bad is it?”

              “You look pretty thoroughly kissed,” he grins suddenly, looking proud of himself as he picks up his bag from the floor and hitches it over his shoulder.

              When you catch sight of yourself, he’s absolutely right, the pinkness of your lipstick smudged away fully in a hazy smear, and you do your best to control the obvious mess with a tissue and a fresh coat of gloss. “We can’t do that here again, someone will say something,”

              “You’re right,” he nods, “it was a one-time thing,”

              You stand and slip the mirror away, meeting his eyes, “Exactly, but… if do you want to kiss me, you can kiss me at home, you know,”

              He makes a little face, a slight grimace, and hums, “I don’t really like to share,”

              Your gut tightens, “Hongjoong, you’re not... I don’t want to come between,”

              “It’s not that,” he interrupts, “I don’t mean it that way,”

              “How do you mean it?”

              “I’m not,” he shifts from foot to foot and searches for the right words, his eyes leaving yours, “I’m not comfortable with this kind of thing with other people around. And we’re never alone,”

              “Oh,” it clicks into place, “you don’t like public displays of affection,”

              “Right,” he nods.

              “You could have told me,” You nudge his arm, “I think we could have figured out ways to be alone if that’s what you wanted. I thought you were just giving me space or something,”

              “That too,” he takes your hand in his, “but I don’t know, I can never relax like that. Not like the others can,”

              “That’s okay,” you assure him.

              “It would be easier if I was more like that, I know that,” he smiles, closed lipped and seeming apologetic, “but it’s not something I can easily do,”

              “I’m not asking you to,” you shake your head, “I like you. I like you like this, no other way.”

              “I like you too,” he squeezes your hand in his.

              “Let’s go home,” you squeeze him back, “let’s get some food, and get some more work done, and if you want to continue this, just come to my room later. It doesn’t have to be a whole thing,”

              He nods, “I’d like that,”

              “Good,” you sigh and lean in quick to press a fast kiss to his lips, “I would too, now let’s get going,”

              He smiles at you again and picks up your bag to hand it back to you before slinging his own over his shoulder. This time, you make it to the door successfully and as you leave the building, a good foot of space between you now that there’s a possibility someone could see you.

              On the way home in the back of the manager’s van you talk about work more, you pick up udon on the way and slip into the dorms with a couple of bags of takeout and a plan. The dorms are fairly quiet, they’ve had a lighter schedule before the next few days of back-to-back shooting and late nights. Wooyoung is visiting his family and Seonghwa is out with old friends, and you suspect the others are tucked away in their rooms to get some rest before the early morning.

              Hongjoong reassembles his portable workstation on the acrylic coffee table as you lay out the food, sorting though and popping open the containers. “I’m getting a water,” you tell him as you head into the kitchen, “do you want anything?”

              “Um,” he trails off, and you know he’s thinking about something else, “yeah, yes,”

              When you come back, two glasses of water in hand, you can’t help but smile. He’s rearranged the food slightly so that your laptop and headphones can sit on the coffee table too, and he’s poking through your bag to find the notebook and pen you favor to scribble down relevant thoughts to yourself. He hears you return, tossing a glance in your direction and you see one of his cheeks is already full with a dumpling.

              “Mm,” he says, mouth still full, “do you want to go through these new audio samples with me?”

              You nod, setting your glasses down and settling on the floor next to him, pulling your knees up to your chest and grabbing a container off the table to get something in your stomach. “What have you got?”

              “I’m thinking about something different for my project,”

              You listen as he sifts through files on his laptop, pausing every so often to take another bite of food. He explains, walking through what he’s looking for and asking your thoughts. You’ve come to find out that with Hongjoong, if he’s not working on a project for Ateez, he’s working on something personal. He has a back catalogue of partially complete songs and files upon files on his computer of samples and rap verses.

              When you first started working with him, you tried suggesting that he rest or relax – to try just watching a movie or hanging out, but the truth of it is that if he’s not making music, he’s thinking about music, so you let that notion go quickly.              

              Somewhere around the bottom of your bowl of noodles you hear him sigh, heavy, and scrub his eyes. He hasn’t found what he wants yet, and the thought deep in his brain must be specific. You don’t know Eden well yet, but when Hongjoong is like this he reminds you of him, just a little less polished and a little more chaotic, though that could certainly just be the years of experience.

              “Sometimes walking away for a bit helps,” you remind him as you set your empty container back on the table, “if I can’t figure it out, I don’t force it.”

              “Mm,” he nods and leans back against the edge of the couch behind you, “you’re right, it’s just bothering me.”

              You shift, propping up one arm on the couch cushion and leaning your chin in your hand, angling towards him fully now, “I understand,”

              He gives you a small smile and blinks hard, and you can tell he’s exhausted and just trying to shake off the tiredness.

              “Hongjoong,” you murmur, “do you always work this hard?”

              His lips quirk and he turns his body towards yours on the floor, your knees pressed against each other and he gets comfortable and takes a mental moment away from the task at hand. “It’s not always work,”

              “I know,” you nod, “believe me I get that,”

              “Mhm,” he nods, “how’s your stuff coming along?” He gestures towards your open laptop, and you smile. He’s been watching you work on some personal projects every night for weeks and short of asking his opinion on small things, he hasn’t really heard the near finished product of your newest piece.

              “Good,” you reply, “do you want to hear it?”

              “All of it?” he perks up.

              “Yeah,”

              “Let’s go,” he gestures towards your laptop and as you reach over to get your headphones for him and move the laptop closer, he stretches and stands, moving to the couch behind your back and laying down on his back, reaching out a hand for the headphones.

              “What are you doing?” You laugh, handing them over.

              “Giving it my full attention,” he settles the headphones over his ears and gets comfortable.

              “Okay,” you wait for him to give you the go ahead, and then you press play and watch him sink into it. With a sigh, you lean back against the couch, keeping your eyes away from him so you don’t make yourself nervous about his reaction and you wait.

              Hongjoong reaches out, settling his hand on your shoulder before sliding it to rest against your neck and you feel his thumb tapping out a rhythm on your skin. His hand slows, stilling and relaxing against you, and you wait longer.

              You watch the song draw to a close on your laptop, and still, he doesn’t move. You chew the inside of your lip and wait, fingers bouncing on your knee, but when you finally twist your head to see his reaction, you realize he’s asleep. His mouth is parted, breathing steady and slow, and his expression is finally relaxed. You know he’s been exhausted.

              Quietly you remove the headphones from his head and move slowly, hoping not to wake him, but he barely shifts. He’s already sleeping heavily, and only when you shift forwards to pull your laptop closer, his hand on your shoulder tightens slightly. You want to wake him and put him to bed, you want to put yourself to bed, but after days of running late nights and his early day tomorrow you don’t have the heart to move.

              It’s late, but you can stay up a little longer, you can give him some time to rest. Within minutes you’re back to work, and twenty minutes turn into forty as you edit.

              “He’s asleep early,” Seonghwa’s low voice startles you slightly and you jump, pulling off your headphones completely and turning to look.

              Hongjoong’s hand is still resting on your shoulder, and you see the way that Seonghwa notes it. Early for Hongjoong is any time before two in the morning, and Seonghwa smiles as he comes around the couch and gets a good look at you both.

              “Did you just get home?” You ask him quietly.

              “Mhm,” he nods, slipping off his oversized brown blazer and laying it over the back of a chair, “I haven’t caught up with my hometown friends in a while, so we just kept talking,”

              “That’s nice,” you smile, and glance down at where Hongjoong’s hand has now shifted in his sleep to sit a little lower and splay over your shoulder and onto your chest.

              “Did he…” Seonghwa considers his words for a moment and then shrugs, “did you go on a date or something?”

              You can’t help but laugh, “No, no, just a late night at the studio and I’m trying to make sure he eats something more substantial than a protein bar.” You gesture to the empty containers around you.

              Hongjoong makes a grumbled noise behind you and rolls over suddenly, his hand disappearing over your shoulder as he tucks himself up tightly facing the back of the couch and sighs heavy in his sleep. Seonghwa smiles warmly, his eyes on his friend. “You’ve been staying late with him, I hardly see you,”

              “I know,” you sigh, “but I just feel like I can’t get enough of the studio,”

              “That’s good,” he nods, “you should love it,”

              “It’s hard to leave him when he’s working, too,” you glance back at Hongjoong’s sleeping form.

              “Mm,” Seonghwa shifts to come and sit on the floor by you, keeping your voices low, “I know what you mean.”

              You’re quiet for a beat, enjoying his sudden closeness and warmth after missing each other for days, “Did you want some of the food? We have plenty left,” you offer him.

              “Maybe in a bit,” he smiles, “but we have an early day tomorrow,”

              “I know,” you nod your head towards Hongjoong, “that’s why I’m glad he’s sleeping. He needs the rest.”

              Seonghwa nods and looks at his friend again, “Let me help you clean this up,” he says gesturing towards the containers on the coffee table and pulling himself to his feet. He packs up the food with ease and you move to help him, shutting Hongjoong’s laptop and tucking it back into his bag to protect it from any potential spills. Quietly you both wrap up the food nod toss any of the trash in a bag, and Seonghwa wipes off the table and sets the remote back to its rightful place.

              “Come this way,” Seonghwa waves you over and you follow him into the kitchen, helping him tuck the leftovers away in the fridge.

              He sighs and leans back against the counter, “I didn’t want to wake him, and we can talk a little better here.”

              You nod and step towards him, and he rests his hands comfortably on your hips, “Good idea,”

              “How are things, love?” He murmurs, bringing you another step closer and keeping his voice soft and low.

              “Busy,” you rest your hands on his chest to balance yourself better as he wraps his arms around you a little more, “I knew it would be, but I don’t know how you all do it.”

              “We’re used to it,” he tells you, “but it’s still hard.” He reaches up, cupping your cheek softly in his hand, “You shouldn’t work yourself too hard. Are you eating well? Getting rest?”                     

              The way he looks at you has you warm, his eyes soft and round and full of gentle concern. You shake your head, leaning your cheek into his hand as you do, “I’m good, I promise. It’s a busy schedule, but I like busy.”

              “Would you tell me if you need a break?” One of his eyebrows raise.   

              “Seonghwa,” you shake your head, “you don’t have to take care of me too,”

              He rolls his eyes a little and his hand slips back to hold your neck, his thumb brushing against your jawline, “y/n,” he smiles, “we’re dating, it’s okay to let us take care of you. That’s what people in relationships do for each other. Besides,” he sighs, “I can’t help it, I’m always fussing over everyone.”

              “That’s true,” you tease him a little.

              “Mm,” he nods, his hand tightening on your back as he holds you steady so that he can dip down and kiss you warmly, “So, would you tell me?”

              “If you want me to,” you shake your head, kissing him again and pressing up on your toes to meet his mouth better.

              “Good,” he nuzzles you gently with his nose and his hand slips down to hold your lower back.

              Leaning back from him you meet his eyes, “I am sorry we’ve been missing each other though,” you tell him honestly, “I’ve missed this too,”

              He nods, but before he can respond the light in the kitchen clicks on above you and you both squint at the sudden bright change. You turn, still held in Seonghwa’s arms, and see Jongho padding into the room, a yawn on his lips.

              “Oh,” you move to step away from Seonghwa, leaning into the knee jerk reaction to limit public affection, but Seonghwa doesn’t move except to drop his hands back to your hips and Jongho shakes his head.

              “Relax,” he tells you, reaching up in the cabinet for a glass and then moving to stand next to you and fill his glass with cold water. His hair is mussed, and he’s dressed as casually as you’ve ever seen him, loose white t-shirt and navy sweatpants that hang off his hips and accentuate his muscular build.

              “Can’t sleep?” Seonghwa murmurs.

              Jongho shakes his head, “I keep waking up,”

              “Is something bothering you?” Seonghwa asks, and you feel his hands loosen on your sides as he assesses his friend’s face.

              Jongho shakes his head though and tips the glass back to gulp down half of the water, throwing the tap back on and filling it again, “No, just a little restless.”

              Seonghwa nods, “It’s late,”

              “I’m going to try to get some more sleep, you should too,” You’re sure he’s thinking of their early schedule and his pending alarm. He turns to you, meeting your eyes with a sleepy smile, “Goodnight, y/n,”

              “Night, Jongho,” you murmur, and he squeezes your shoulder before heading back to the door of the kitchen.

              He disappears around the corner, leaving the light on, and when you look back to Seonghwa you see the tired expression on his face despite his smile and flirty nature.

              “I should let you sleep,” you lean into him again, “and I have an early wake up too.”

              “Mm, I know you’re right,” he murmurs.

              “Come on,” you step back from him fully now, and he lets his hands fall away, “we should sleep but I’ll be home when you all get back tomorrow. We can spend some time together if you’re not too exhausted,”

              He nods, “I’d like that,”

              You click the light off, and you hear him follow you out of the room. In the living room, Hongjoong stays tucked towards the back of the couch, sleeping silently. Seonghwa moves past you, grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch and shaking it loose, tucking it around Hongjoong. He picks up Hongjoong’s cell off the table and keys in the passcode, navigating to his clock app and flicking through the alarms. He flips four of them on, all separated by five minutes each, checks the volume on the ringer, and leaves the phone on the table.       

              “Shouldn’t we make him sleep in his own bed?” You whisper.

              “If we wake him up, he’ll just stay up. It’s better to let him sleep here,” Seonghwa says.

              “Ah,” you nod, “let him rest then.”

              Behind the couch Seonghwa pulls you back to him quickly, a soft smile on his lips before he captures your mouth in a kiss. He holds you close, kissing you tenderly before moving away and pressing another quick peck to your hair, “Okay, okay, get to bed,”

              “You too,” you push him away and take a step back, unable to stop smiling at his reluctance to leave you and the butterflies it gives you before he disappears around the corner for bed.

              In the morning, everyone is up and bustling around before you’d normally wake, but the noise gets you up and know there’s no getting back to sleep now. They’re supposed to be filming for the entire day, and you know they won’t be back until late at night, probably after ten. The office was going to be quieter without them, and with no dance practice to go to after your regular workday, you’ll have the night strangely to yourself.

              You’re fixing yourself coffee when Hongjoong’s voice behind you makes you jump and almost drop the sugar spoon.

              “I fell asleep on you last night,” he says, but when he watches you jump, he rushes to apologize, “Sorry, sorry, good morning,”

              “Morning,” you smile, turning and laughing, “I know, I just thought you could use the rest,”

              “Mm,” he nods, “Still, I’m sorry, I wanted to spend some more time with you,”

              The innuendo wouldn’t be obvious to anyone, but after the fevered kisses in the studio and your offer for him to come to your room, you know what he means. Your cheeks heat a little, and it catches you how handsome he is like this – bare faced and relaxed, a backwards cap covering his hair and his clothes casual and oversized since the stylists would be dressing them on site.

              He smiles at your expression, noting your pink cheeks, and he softly clears his throat, “Have a good day at the office today,”

              “Thanks,” behind you the rest of the boys are bumping into each other and trying to get ready in the small space, but you take the moment to reach out and take Hongjoong’s hand, squeezing once and then letting it go. His eyes flick over you, and as you start to tell him to have a good day, to be safe, he closes the gap between you and presses his lips to yours.

              He leans in a little further, his hand anchoring on your waist, and you sigh into his touch, kissing him back until he finally leans away and drops his hands. His back is to the rest of the members, but no one is really watching. There’s a lingering smile on Seonghwa’s mouth that you catch, but there’s no telling exactly what put it there.

              “Okay,” Hongjoong nods, looking a little lighter, “I’ll see you later then,”

              “Yeah,”

              “I’ll finish listening to the song tonight, okay?” He tells you, “I do really want to hear it,”

              At the commotion behind you in the living room you usher him out, pushing him towards the door, “I know,”

              It’s still dark outside as their cars all pull away, leaving you alone in the dorms to get ready for work. You’re getting the sense that these odd hours and difficult schedules are going to get worse over the next few months with a comeback on the horizon and a tour scheduled after that. The least you can do is be helpful, to try and lessen their stress even a little, and if they can work as hard as they’re working, you can too.

a/n: next chapter is in the works! hoping to post next weekend and get back on a normal schedule! after that i already have chapters 14 through 19 mostly complete!

💌 - taglist:  @butterfliesinthenightsky @stitch3s @flowerboykun @theartofhotchinthesnow @spookydanielle @mangislovur @inarinabina @justanotherkpopstanlol @parkurhope @bikou0327 @teti-menchon0604 @becauseiloveyunho @stardustmoonlightteaandbooks @yeosangsbiceps @auhhrii @multifandomizer @softsugababes @amazingly-amazing-loser @bangtanxberm @nyxmoon @xosim @arkive78 @elk-1998 @tenebrisirae @mysticfire0435 @jo-hwaberry @ddeonghwva @meginthebuilding27 @sookacc @noonaishere @lucenchan @asjkdk @yunhosprettyhand @realliquanzhe @simplyaghostsworld

[sans-desertghost]

A Match Made In Hell

Summary: Being Vice Captain of the Cheerleading Squad made Y/N’s life easy. Everyone knew who she was and adored her for it (I mean as far as she knew), but a certain boy made it a point to show her he was not one of those people and instead loathed her for it.

Warnings: none for this chapter!

Pep rallies were not your favorite but you liked preforming the routines that earned cheers from the students standing in the bleachers (and you liked how the uniform looked on you). The school held one before every basketball game to ‘raise school spirit’, but it quickly started to feel like overkill (it may also just be that you hated hearing Jason talk).

Throwing your pompoms into the pile of others, you waved bye to your fellow cheerleaders that you passed on your way out of the locker room.

“Hi Y/N!”

“Y/N, you were awesome at today’s pep rally!”

“See you in class Y/N!”

You smiled at your classmates’ greetings and compliments. This was your usual environment in the hallways of your school. Smiles and flattery. You soaked it all in.

Ahead of you, you spotted Lucas Sinclair from the basketball team. You heard from your friends that Ms. May was to hand out a paired project today in Chemistry. Now would be the perfect time to ask.

Skipping ahead, you slipped your arm through Lucas’ and nudged yourself between him and whoever he was talking to. “Hey Lucas, I wanted to ask you a question before Chemistry started.” You began to pull Lucas away when a voice stopped you.

“You know we were in the middle of a conversation, right?”

You turned to see a tall (and I mean tall, like he towered over you) pale boy with dark shaggy locks. His face scrunched up in annoyance that was directed toward you. This in turn made you glare back at him. “You’re right, and I don’t remember you being in it. So, if you don’t mind-“

“I actually do mind.”

The boy’s challenging tone surprised you, most people backed down from your stare alone. The effect working on his shorter friend with curly hair, who stared up at him in disbelief. You chalked it up to him feeling bold today.

Your eyes raked down his form before settling on his T-Shirt. It bore the words ‘HellFire Club’ with a devil character and weapons in the surrounding.

“You’re in that HellFire Club? I’ve heard of it.” Your voice came out smooth as you took a step toward him, “Full of freaks and losers. Do you guys jack each other off when you’re together? Because I know no girl would be caught dead with any of you.”

You smiled up at him but he gave no response to your question, instead pressing his lips together in a thin line. Satisfied, you stepped back from him and turned back to Lucas, who had been watching with an expression similar to the curly haired boy.

“Lucas,” you placed a hand on his forearm, “do you want to be my partner for chemistry? I heard Ms. May is handing out a project today.”

“Sure.” He glanced back to his friends? (You weren’t sure how Lucas knew them), before giving you a small smile. “I’m just gonna finish up this conversation. I’ll see you in class.”

You beamed at his response and for good measure, you turned back to the pale boy and waved, “Nice to meet you.” You said brightly then turned on your heel to continue onto class.

Mike POV

Mike did not think he could dislike anyone more than Jason until you pushed him out of the way to speak to Lucas.

He knew better from previous bullies about what speaking up about it lead to but he was already in a foul mood.

“You know we were in the middle of a conversation, right?”

You stepped toward him like a predator about to chomp down on it’s prey, with a smile that was anything but sweet. It was almost like you sensed his irritation and wanted to add more onto it, with your sneer and snide comments about his HellFire shirt. You stared up at him, waiting for his response, but he said nothing. Choosing to swallow his pride, he wouldn’t entertain you further. His silence seemed to make you smile wider, like you won something.

“Lucas,” he watched you place a hand gently on his friend’s arm, your demeanor softer and kinder. “do you want to be my partner for Chemistry?”

Mike tried not to feel a sense of betrayal when his friend agreed to her question, but it was enough to make him roll his eyes. Pretty girls like you always got what they wanted.

“Nice to meet you.” You said to him. He bit down harshly on his lip as you strutted away from the group, a bounce in your step. He did not like how you got under his skin.

[wario-speedwagon]

Dave and Old Sport Adopt a Kid: Chapter 6

Thank you for your patience friends! I finally have the next chapter of these bozos and their definitely-not-found-family! I hope you enjoy and have a fantastic day! Full Chapter below the cut as always :)

Chapter 1 Chapter 5

ALSO!!

I wanna extend a huge shoutout and thank you to @miss-maam-ava and @an-artist-place-for-extra-art for drawing fanart!? I'm still utterly blown away by it, so again thank you!! Their art is at the end of the chapter, so do go check it out, and check out these awesome artists!

Chapter 6

Jack’s worn-down car–how he acquired it, he’d rather not admit–rolled into the Walmart parking lot, and after a poorly aligned attempt at parking into a spot near the front entrance, the colorful cast exited the vehicle. Jack exited the driver’s seat door, standing and basking in the cooling 8pm air as Dave and Pruny exited from their respective seats. 

But Jack could quickly hear Dave trying and failing to open the wrong door.

“I got it.”

So Jack opened the driver’s side back door and held Pruny’s hand to help her down to the ground. For some reason, the other back door on his car refused to budge open anymore some years ago. A minor detail that Jack had never particularly felt a relevant urgency to fix before.

There were a lot of things about his life-style Jack was starting to have to consider from an outsider’s point of view; things he’d previously learned to ignore the shame of. Things he’d previously accepted were fine left broken but now would have to be fixed–no, leave all that to Dave to sort out; Jack owes nothing to anyone.

But as they silently walked across the lot for the entrance, a sudden lack of company stopped Jack’s train of thought in its tracks to notice Dave stopping behind–

“Hey, kid,” he said to Pruny rather softly as he knelt down– “you wanna hop on my shoulders again?”

Yet again, the girl obliged Dave's offer with a curt nod and surprisingly little hesitation. So Dave bent down even further as she climbed onto his back. You’d swear they were real family if you didn’t know better.

“So; seeing as we came here without so much as a list of what to get, we should probably at least run through what we’re here for.”

“Right, good idea...” Though the two aubergines were more preoccupied with adjusting comfortably to Pruny being sat on his shoulders. 

“So, uh, Pruny?” But he didn’t have her attention immediately as she balanced herself against Dave’s long neck. Though it then occurred to Jack that figuring out what things she’d prefer wouldn’t be as simple as just asking her anyway.

“C’mon, let’s start with the clothes.”

“Alrighty.”

“...By the way…” Jack turned his attention to Pruny, or rather, her shirt; “Why on earth did you get Pruny a size extra large? No way that’s all they had left?”

“C’mon, you gotta give a growin’ kid at least two sizes up! makes it last longer.”

“It also makes her look ridiculous.”

Pruny clutched her shirt sleeve as if in subconscious defense of it.

“We’re gonna get you nice clothes that actually fit you, and then you’ll know where I’m coming from.”

Dave rolled his eyes as Jack forged ahead for the kid’s section of the clothes area.

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

Peter…

The name resonated voicelessly from nowhere, from somewhere inside of himself. He couldn’t tell what the importance of it was.

‘He’? Oh... he would be Scott Cawthon of course, he was reminded.

Yet this Peter was more than a name… he was needed to crack some kind of code.

But… 

…But all mulling about codes and names was put aside when he promptly remembered the time; no, he didn’t have the time to daydream, he still had toast to finish and he should be out the door for work in five minutes or so. Not that Freddy’s was picky down to the minute about tardiness, but his bus sure was. It had all admittedly been much easier at his previous job when he and Carolyn could more easily coordinate around their one car.

Whatever. This job hopefully wouldn’t have to be for too much longer. 

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

“Dave, keep in mind that I have to afford all this,” Jack said while Dave dumped a fourth skirt into the cart. Considering that Pruny had not done much more than stand there and nod approvingly, it seemed more like Dave was picking out her clothes than she was. But at least he was picking out medium sizes like Jack told him to.

“‘Afford’? Please, Old Sport, consider this all on me!” 

“Oh? You don’t strike me as someone with much buying power.” But as soon as he admitted it aloud, he immediately noticed the error in his assumption.

“Yeah, I guess ‘buying power’s’ a creative way to put it...”

Jack was no stranger to shoplifting himself; the Freddy’s “pay wage” would have made sure of that if his own relaxed morals hadn’t already beaten them to the punch. But usually his shoplift attempts were more… well, they didn’t usually involve a growing pile of colorful clothes.

That, and being orange was conspicuous enough. Being an orange dude accompanied by two purple people was getting them several looks. 

“There any other ones you want, Pruny?” 

Pruny responded by looking around the place thoughtfully. Despite how much Dave towered over her as he looked down at her (there must have been a four foot height difference between them), she didn’t show any nerves anymore–not since they’d gone home, now that he thought about it. She even made direct eye contact with the men that were almost going to be her murderers.

Why did that thought put such a chill through Jack’s spine? Should he unpack that later–?

After tilting her body around a rack of shirts, Pruny started running off to the section next door, looking back at them briefly as she ran to make sure she was being followed as she headed for the shoe section. Jack was happy that Pruny seemed to be enjoying all this so much.

“I guess she’s right, we haven’t gotten her new shoes yet.”

“Hmm. That might present a slight hiccup… But hey, ole Davey always finds a way in the end!”

“What, in your shoplifting scheme?”

“Yes, that. You can’t wear more than two pairs of shoes at once; believe me, I tried.”

“...Two ‘pairs’?” 

“Eh, it’s not a big deal, actually. They’re not gonna give enough shit to strip a man of his shirt.”

“Ah. Comforting.”

The two’s walking pace finally caught up to Pruny who was already excitedly inspecting shoe box after shoe box in a row. The mother and her son at the other end of the aisle unsubtly excused themselves upon their arrival.

Pruny then seemed to settle on a pair, as she reached to take the box out of its shelf and then took it to show its contents to her–...

…What were Dave and Jack to her right now? Guardians? Jack hoped not… And what would that make him and Dave–

But Jack immediately brushed the unanswered questions aside to inspect the pink sandals Pruny was holding up to them which each had a pinker plastic flower adorning them.

Pruny was beaming up at both of them as if awaiting validation, so Jack naturally put on his old brotherly smile. “I like them, they're very cute.”

“Yeah!” Dave interjected, pushing himself forward with interest. “Do they fit ya? C'mon, go try 'em on right now, let's see how they look on ya!”

Dave took the box from her and knelt down to her level. As Pruny took off one of her incredibly worn tennis shoes, Dave took out and held the corresponding sandal out to her, and she accordingly slipped her foot into it.

“There! Fits just right like a princess!”

That got a shy blushing grin from Pruny who directed her gaze strictly down to her feet.

This whole ‘princess’ schtick that Dave had been keeping up with her throughout their clothes shopping was getting a bit too cheesy for Jack who was glad that Dee had always been more tomboyish. But Dave seemed to be really enjoying their night of pampering their new friend.

But that begged the question, why was Dave such a natural at interacting with her? Considering, y'know... his latest past times... In some ways he even rivaled Peter’s doting… What would Peter have thought of Pruny if he were still around? He probably would have liked her– 

–no, that's enough of that train of thought.

“Let's get you a pair of better tennis shoes, and then let's call it a night on the shopping, alright? It’s almost 10 o’clock.”

"Not without trying all her clothes before leavin'!"

"As long as you're quick about it, sure."

Pruny nodded and began happily inspecting boxes again on the other end where the more athletic wear seemed to be. Dave followed right behind her, also looking on the higher shelves for suitable shoe candidates.

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

Peter’s mind wandered as he watched the scenery pass by on that bus... house by house, then building by building... Until that godforsaken bear’s face came into view again as the bus slowed to its next stop.

And then he arrived. 

And then he was in his costume again.

And then he saw his coworker Henry.

And then there was blood.  Everywhere–

H-His blood–

Scott woke up with a jolt. 

…And that always means the beginning of another tedious day of the Freddy’s grind– No, there was silence where usually an alarm was blaring on his desk; and sure enough it's still only 10pm. Strange. He doesn’t usually wake so spontaneously on his own.

And as his tired mind tried to lull itself back to sleep, Scott’s mind therefore drifted back to ‘Peter.’ 

Peter, huh? Another one of those dreams again. They never left him feeling right. Rather, they left him feeling… unsatisfied... with something he couldn’t pinpoint. He theorized maybe a part of him was jealous of this fictional guy’s life, after all, anyone would dream of a better life than being a Fazbender’s Phone Guy.

But there he went wanting again when he had no business expecting anything better of life.

But then his mind jumped to Jack and that girl–Pruny. Seeing those two this evening, it was uncanny.

…uncanny… how…?

Scott drifted back asleep before he could question it further. After all, Dee was already done with her homework and he hadn’t even started dinner yet.

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

“Well, that’ll do nicely! Just like nothing ever happened!” Dave said as he and Pruny exited the changing rooms, Pruny seemingly back in her original clothes that she came in after trying everything on. But she was evidently not nearly as comfortable as before with how tight everything felt on her.

“Where’d that tangerine go? That bastard musta wandered off somewhere.” Dave didn’t think they took that long to change. But their cart was still there where they left it at least. 

Dave then looked down at Pruny who was clearly rather awkward in all her clothes. Understandable, but she’d have to deal with it for now, at least until they get to the car. Sure was a good thing he got her that Extra Large to cover it all up, huh! He patted her on the head as if to reassure her before gesturing to the self-conscious girl to follow along as he wandered ahead in search of– ah! There the man was, not far off and conveniently on his way back carrying… a couple somethings.

“Why hello there, old sport! Whatcha got there?”

“We can’t be forgetting socks and underwear in all of this excitement, can we? Rookie mistake.”

“Ah, suppose you’re right.”

“These should probably fit her based on her pants size. Otherwise we’ll just ret–” …Wait, can you even return stolen goods? …Well, upon checking their price again real quick, Jack certainly wouldn't be very interested in paying for these now anyway.

“…Did ya have to get the most boring color imaginable? White!? C’mon now, she’s a girl, give ‘er some pink or something!”

“What’s even the point of colored underwear other than upcharges?"

"Old Sport, we're not paying for them-"

"But I’m sure she has more than enough pink to last her a lifetime by now. Are you sure pink is even her favorite color?”

“Sure it is! Right Prune? You like pink, don’t ya?”

“Y-Yeah!” She said rather cheerfully without missing a beat.

…Jack and Dave both took an impressed moment’s pause. But Dave quickly jumped back in. 

“See? It’s not like I picked everything out for her, y’know, most of this was all her choosin’ it out!” he emphatically gestured. But he gestured at Pruny in her god-awful oversized Toy Freddo shirt that she came in. Jack sighed, knowing better.

“...You’re really making her wear all of it at once under that shirt!? Can’t you smuggle it any better way?"

"I do this all the time, but I can't really do it for her, now can I? I already got shoes in my shirt."

"Still, poor kid’s gotta be sweating already.”

“Which is why we should prolly head out soon. They’re gonna close in fifteen anyways.”  

“Alright, can’t say I disagree. I’m getting exhausted by all of today.”

“Ah that’s right, we’ll have to get some blankets for me ‘n Prune!”

“For ‘you’ and Prune?”

Dave cracked a smile he probably thought was persuasive.

“...” 

“...”

“...”

*sigh* “I’ll go get the blankets. Just hurry up and take Pruny to the car so she can take some of those layers off already.”

“Aye-aye!” he saluted as he reached for Pruny’s hand to lead them out the entrance doors.

Jack however restrained another sigh at the thought of blowing what little money he’d managed to scrape up. But he’d had more than enough smuggling antics for one night.

(Chapter 7) ->

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

Fanart!! :D

Definitely support their original art posts! (linked in the images)

Arts by @miss-maam-ava of Dave, Jack and Pruny!

Arts of Pruny and Sport (Rose's Davesport kid) by @miss-maam-ava and @an-artist-place-for-extra-art (Rose) respectively!

(and yes they are officially siblings now, do not question it)

[mystery-fic-anon]

Pull me close, and hold my hands

Summary: A cute, fluffy slice of winter life where Edge and Stretch go on an ice-skating date together.

Warnings/rating: T, no major warnings, just some ice shenanigans

This is for the wonderful @alennyah for Gyftmas, I hope you enjoy your gift! I loved this prompt, I knew I had to do something with it :D

Thank you to @sin-cognito for beta reading this, you are the best!! And thanks again for putting on Gyftmas, it's been a blast to participate in!

Read it on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52826791

Or below the cut:

Hello

As I stated the first time I graded your project, your database’s code is fucked up broken. Even with the password, I am unable to read or search through files which if you were paying attention, is the only thing the project is asking you to do . I CC’d you on a previous email, but I will send the GitHub link here again. I highly suggest you try debugging the code, and if you are still unable to figure out the issue, please let me know and we can set up a time to meet.

Worst Best regards,

Stretch flinched as someone knocked on the door. He glanced down at the bottom right corner of his screen, then quickly stood up. He had only planned on replying to a couple of quick emails, but he’d gotten sucked into a failed attempt to debug his students’ latest attempt at the final project.

“I’ll be right there!”

He powered off his screen and pushed his swivel chair away from his desk. He got up and grabbed an orange jacket off of the back of the chair, sliding it on and picking up a gift bag as he headed over to the door. He usually wore his regular hoodie while skating, but he didn’t know how long he and Edge would be out. While Edge would offer him his coat like a gentleman, Stretch didn’t want to deprive him, so it was better to layer up.

His skates were still in his inventory, and so was his wallet. He shoved his feet into his boots, then leaned over and opened the door.

Edge stood there, cutting a gorgeous figure in a soft red turtleneck, leather jacket, and some tight jeans. He held his own gift bag in his phalanges, and Stretch couldn’t help smiling as he saw him.

Edge’s face didn’t change, but Stretch could see his shoulders lower ever so slightly. He was always tightly wound when they were outside of the privacy of one of their apartments, but Stretch didn’t mind it too much. After he’d learned to start decoding him, Stretch had found that the most standoffish skeleton of their little group had a kind soul.

Edge handed him the gift bag, gently tugging the other one out of his hands. He put it into his inventory, then looked back at Stretch. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I was just finishing up a quick email.” Stretch locked the door, and put his own gift bag away.

He was eager to see what Edge thought of his gift, but there was no rush to open it right away. They had a whole date to do that.

“I thought you were off for the holidays?” Edge asked. His hand twitched, and Stretch happily reached out and took it.

He shook his head, slumping a bit as they began walking to play it up. “Hah, I wish. Students can still submit regrade requests until the 28th, and I have to finish all of them before the next semester starts.”

“That sounds difficult.” Edge squeezed his hand gently, his phalanges curling against Stretch’s metacarpals.

“Yeah, well, I’ve TA’d for worse classes before. I’d rather not talk about work right now.”

“Understandable. We should get going.” Edge turned, pulling Stretch with him as they headed over to the elevator. “Since it’s only fifteen minutes, I assumed we would be walking.”

“Yep, that works for me,” Stretch said. “I bet trying to take a car and parking would only get us a couple of minutes closer, and it’s such a hassle.”

The traffic around his place had been locked up for the past few days by the city’s latest attraction. A pedestrian square that was usually home to cobblestones, a fountain, and some pretty flower patches had been turned into a “holiday village” combining Gyftmas with a few human holidays. It was a bit more lively than what Stretch usually preferred, but he knew that Edge would enjoy it, if only as a chance to prove his athleticism.

“Have you skated before?” Stretch asked. He didn’t usually skate much. He preferred saying awful jokes and teleporting across the ice to get away from any repercussions.

As they stepped out into the streets, Edge looked around, and when he didn’t see any trouble, he began walking and talking. “I used to when I was a child, but it wasn’t like what I’ve seen others doing. It was more about evasive training on a slick surface.”

“Well, that might come in handy if there are any new skaters still figuring out their balance.” Stretch playfully nudged Edge. “Would you catch me if I fell on the ice?”

“Not if it meant I would fall with you,” Edge said dryly, but he smiled when Stretch laughed. It was barely there, but Stretch had gotten used to watching for even the slightest upturn of his mouth.

“That’s fair. I’ll try to keep my legs under me then.”

Neither of them felt the need to speak, so they fell into a comfortable silence. Stretch could see more decorations had migrated into the street, especially in the shops and offices on ground level. He could also see Edge’s handsome face out of the corner of his eye, and he wasn’t ashamed to look clearly and admire his partner.

The skating rink took up a little over half of the square, with a wooden fence surrounding the fountain to keep anyone from running into it by accident. It was a few hours after school had let out, so only a few students were left. There were only about ten people skating, with most of the humans and monsters mingling near the food stands in the holiday village.

Stretch couldn’t help smiling. This was ideal; he and Edge could have some romantic moments, but also people-watch if they wanted to. He led Edge over to the benches next to the rink, squeezing his hand again. 

“This is gonna be fun.” He pulled his skates out and sat down, pulling at the laces of his boots already. They barely went up past his ankles, but he wasn’t wearing them for fashion reasons like Edge usually did. He just didn’t want to soak his usual sneakers.

“I’m sure it will.” Edge sat down and crossed one leg over the other, getting to work.

His movements were elegant and controlled, and Stretch couldn’t help watching for a few seconds before he turned back to his own feet. He had no idea how he’d managed to land someone as elegant as Edge, but he wasn’t going to complain.

Even if Edge hadn’t skated much before, he had no issue lacing them up. He had chosen a pair of black figure skates, the blades polished to military perfection. Once he was done, he helped Stretch lace up his second skate, effortlessly pulling the laces tighter than Stretch had before. Stretch could feel his face flushing, but he didn’t try to look away. Edge deserved to have his care appreciated properly.

He leaned in before Edge could pull away, kissing his forehead quickly. “Thank you.”

Edge’s cheekbones had definitely gotten redder, and he rubbed them as he stood. “Well, it’s easier to do up someone else’s.”

“It’s still nice of you to do.” Stretch stood up. His balance was off, and he threw his arms out as he wobbled. “Oh, damn, looks like I lost my sea legs.”

“That part of the ground is uneven. Come here.” Edge took Stretch’s arm, guiding him over to the well-trodden snow path leading up to the closest door.

A human with a bright yellow vest stood next to the ice rink, and they opened up the door as Edge and Stretch approached. “Hi there! Have you already got your tickets online, or will you be buying some here? It’s eight for a full hour.”

“We’ve got ours.” Stretch let go of Edge and pulled out his phone, showing the tickets to the human.

“Perfect! Here.” They stepped back, gesturing to the door. “Enjoy your time today, and if you want a coupon for some free hot chocolates after your skating, come visit the rental stand! We still have a few left, but they’re going fast.”

Stretch pulled off his skate guards, then stepped over the edge of the doorway. He put them into his pocket, sliding a metre away from the door.

Edge stepped over slower than he had. He kept his eyes on the ice the entire time, and Stretch noticed his blades were wobbling a bit. As Edge closed the door behind him, firmly, Stretch skated up to him.

“Do you want to try together or hold the wall?” He asked, offering his hand.

Edge looked at him skeptically, but Stretch didn’t waver. He wouldn’t judge if Edge did need to hug the wall the entire time; he just wanted to make sure he was comfortable. Maybe he should have found a smaller rink, or somewhere with fewer people, so Edge didn’t feel self-conscious.

“I’m fine.” Edge moved forward and grabbed Stretch’s forearm. “Let’s go.”

Stretch turned so Edge would be close to the wall on his other side, then pushed off with one foot. Edge was pulled into a slow glide with him. He wobbled, but then took a deep breath and bent his knees slightly. He glided forward slightly, but Stretch could feel that he was more in control of it.

“Feeling better? Here, let’s move.”

Stretch shifted one skate, pressing against the ice at a diagonal angle. He pushed three times in a row then stood normally on the ice, riding out the glide with Edge. He could feel a few deeper lines on the ice, but it must have been Zamboni’d recently, because it was pretty smooth.

By the time they were halfway around the rink, Edge had gained some confidence. He used both feet instead of just moving once and then gliding. Stretch was easily pulled along. Edge was staring straight ahead, probably making sure no one zipped in front of them at the last minute. Stretch just smiled, putting his other arm on Edge’s elbow and hanging on.

Edge was strong and precise, and each of his movements were designed to push them along at the perfect pace. Stretch reached out and tapped his fingers on the boards next to the fountain as they skated past it, then scrambled to match Edge’s speed again. He laughed as Edge slowed down, rolling his eyelights as he let Stretch easily catch up with him. The air was getting a bit cooler, but it couldn’t cut through Stretch’s jacket too much, so he was fine.

As they reached the door where they had started, Edge suddenly pushed his feet out. He pulled Stretch to an abrupt stop, ice spraying out from his skates. Stretch yelped, flinching at the cold as some of the ice got into the top of one of his skates.

“What was that for?” He shook his foot, but that only made the ice slide deeper in, soaking his sock.

“You can skate on your own.” Edge smirked at him, then turned around and zipped off.

Stretch knew a game of tag when he saw one. He stamped twice on the ice to make sure the ice shavings in his skate were settled, then took off. He curved to the side, sticking to the direction that most people were using to skate around the rink to avoid any collisions.

Edge must have been faking earlier; he was practically a speed skater now. He leaned forwards, the tails of his scarf flapping behind him as he whirled around the rink. He deftly slipped around another couple, and Stretch smirked as one of them flinched, then turned to look at Edge with wide eyes. He really was a force of nature, and he was killing it tonight.

Stretch could just use a shortcut, but that would end the fun too early. It was rare for Edge to get so playful in public, and he wanted to enjoy it while he could.

Instead, he summoned a small bone attack diagonally jutting out from the wall. It was right at the level of the tips of Edge’s skates. Stretch held his breath, slowing down and crossing his fingers.

He shouldn’t have worried. Edge glanced down just in time, and easily hopped over it. He wobbled again for a moment when he hit the ice again, but he quickly straightened out his blades and began skating normally again. Stretch had to get rid of the bone before continuing, so he wasn’t able to catch up to Edge. He still skated along, moving as close to the middle of the rink as he dared.

After a few more laps, Stretch was finally getting closer. He doubted Edge’s stamina was actually waning, but he appreciated that Edge was giving him a chance to catch up. The sun had almost completely set, throwing some dramatic shadows across the rink and Edge’s figure in front of him. Faint smells of cinnamon and ginger wafted over from the food stalls, and someone in that area was playing holiday music as well.

Stretch threw his arms out for extra balance, speeding up as much as he could. This was it; he would be able to catch Edge. He reached for Edge’s coat, aiming to tap him in the middle of the back.

Edge turned around, grabbing Stretch’s arms and then twisting to the side. The two of them spun wildly, and Stretch yelped as they careened towards the side wall. Edge pushed both of his skates out, bringing them to a stop with his own back only a couple of inches away from the boards.

“Got you,” he said, his eyelights glittering with triumph.

It took Stretch a few seconds to muster a response. He glanced down at where Edge was holding his arms, then back up at his datemate’s face.

“Yeah, you sure did.”

At that moment, the bulbs around the edge of the rink came on. Edge was suddenly bathed in golden, white, and red tones, throwing the small smile on his face into detail. He was slightly out of breath, panting as he squeezed Stretch’s arms gently.

“Are you alright?” He asked, reaching down to take Stretch’s hands instead of holding on to his arms.

Stretch blinked, then squeezed Edge’s hands back. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Edge let go of one of Stretch’s hands, still smiling at him as he turned to stand next to him. “Do you want to do another few laps, then go get some hot chocolate?”

Nothing sounded better. “Yeah, I do.”

“Good. Let’s go a bit slower this time.”

Edge pushed off, and a second later Stretch followed him. He could feel the smooth leather of Edge’s glove through the material of his own, their arms brushing against each other as they glided around the rink. The air was filled with light and sound, warmth and colour, but what truly captivated Stretch was Edge’s profile. The light framed everything; the strong angles of his face, the scar on his jaw, and the lingering grin on his teeth. It might be corny, but Stretch couldn’t think of a better gift than this.

[lythea-creation]

Caught on Camera - Shams x fem reader (Chapter 6)

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter

warnings: none

word count: 1.045

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

After Nadeen had left, Shams had offered me to stay in her room as long as I wanted to. I was actually surprised of her trust for me in that matter. But we had soon returned to the party again.

Now one week later I was over at Shams' place again as we still needed to finish our project. In contrast to before I did not dread working with her anymore, rather the exact opposite, which took me off guard.

When had I started to want to spend time with her?

We had settled down at the kitchen table as Omar was hanging out with his friends anyway and it was more comfortable to work here.

Shams had also provided us with several snacks. Apparently she loved food, from what I could tell.

For a while we were simply working silently on our part of the task, deeply focused.

But after two hours my concentration began to falter and my focus was drawn over to Shams.

She was still working diligently, her eyes scanning line after line. Her glasses had slid down a bit and she had opened up her tie and the first few buttons of her shirt to be more comfortable.

I could not help but blush when I realized that I was staring at her. Why had I never noticed how hot she actually was and why did I have to recognize it now?

I scolded myself to pull myself together and got back to my task. But now that my mind had gone this far, I just could not resist the urge to take a look at Shams every few seconds.

After about ten minutes I was absolutely frustrated and decided to take a short break.

“I'm gonna go to the restroom”, I excused myself and stood up a bit too eager.

My foot got caught on the table and I knew there was no way to stop me from falling.

But at the last second Shams caught me, concern written over her face.

“You okay?”, she wondered.

Just now it doomed on me how close she was. The feeling of her hand on my waist getting more eminent by the second.

Heat crawled up in my face as I was struggling to answer her: “Yeah … uh … I'm fine.”

My eyes were always wandering to hers and then down to her lips and back up.

“I … I need to go”, I stammered out and hurried to the bathroom.

I groaned at my red face the mirror was portraying.

“You can't be serious!”, I cursed myself. “Why do you always have to lose your cool around her? Can't you take care of yourself for once? And why are you having such thoughts all of a sudden? What the fuck was that?”

I splashed some water over my face, hoping that it would was the redness and the intrusive thoughts away.

When I returned to the kitchen, Shams was tidying everything up. Before I could question it she enlightened me: “It's pretty late. Guess we forgot the time. I don't think you should go home on your own this late. How about you sleep over?”

I was still wondering when we had become friends for her to offer me to stay the night. Not like I was complaining about it.

“You sure?”, I reassured.

“Of course. Though the guest room is still a mess. You can have my bed”, she offered.

“Where are you gonna sleep then?”, I inquired.

“On the couch, I guess”, she suggested, putting the food away.

“No way! I'm not kicking you out of your bed. I'll take the couch”, I insisted.

“Don't be silly! Omar and mom are probably gonna return late in the night and wake you up”, she considered.

“The same goes for you then”, I pointed out.

“Fine”, she declared, holding up her hands in a defeated manner. “Then we'll just both take my bed. It's not like it's too small anyway.”

That was definitely not what I had intended. How was I supposed to sleep when she was laying right next to me? But that was an issue I would deal with later. Now I needed to call my mom.

“Hey, mom! Yeah, I know it's late. Sorry, we forgot the time. I'm going to sleep over at Shams'. So you won't have to worry or pick me up or anything”, I enlightened her.

“I don't know, (f/n). She has a brother hasn't she?”, she worried.

“Seriously? That's what's bothering you? He isn't even home”, I stated.

Shams chuckled at my reaction.

“Then at least face time me and show me you're not doing anything reckless”, she requested.

“Okay”, I agreed and hung up to face time her.

I was slightly annoyed. After all I had never done anything to deserve this low level of trust. I knew that she was only worried about me, but it was still tiring.

“Hey again”, my mom greeted me. “It's good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too. That's Shams”, I introduced her, swinging the camera over.

“Hi”, Shams greeted her with a wave and a smile.

I basically showed the whole house to my mom to reassure her. But at least she finally agreed to let me sleep over.

“Sorry. My mom can make quite a big fuss over nothing sometimes”, I proposed.

“At least she's around”, Shams pointed out. “Our mom's working so much that we barely see her.”

We retreated to her bedroom and she gave me one of her pajamas. While I got dressed, she got another pillow and blanket for me.

When we were all ready, we settled in her bed and turned off the light.

“You know … I don't even remember the last time I had a sleep over”, she confessed.

I had never considered that. She was alone a lot of the time, at least at school. Nadeen and I were having sleep overs on a regular basis.

“I'm feeling honored”, I declared, earning a grin from her.

To my surprise it actually did not take me long to fall asleep at all.

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

Next Chapter

So here's yet another chapter. What do you guys think about it?

Tag List: @sunwoniie

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

The calls contain important references from Victor’s Glacier Date. So, please make sure you read the date first! ♡

⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for content yet to be released on the global server! ⌚

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

–

[1st Call]

Victor: I was in a video conference just now and couldn’t pick up your call.

Victor: Anyway, I’d really like to know what on earth is it that happened to a certain someone?

Victor: Why did I receive a bunch of crying and rolling around memes the second I turned on my phone? 

MC: That… it’s actually not that big a deal.

MC: It’s just that I really don’t want to come to work anymore, sob sob sob sob––!

Victor: …

Victor: I seem to have heard the exact words more than once.

Victor: Why is it that every time a vacation ends, a certain someone always adheres to making this complaint without exception?

MC: Because every time I come back to work on the first day, it feels like being in hell!

MC: And especially since we were away for so long this time, it’s really like I’ve returned to the hell inside the hell!

MC: We received feedback on the previous works, and now we have to do follow-ups on them. At the same time, we also have to prepare for new projects.

MC: We still haven’t landed on a schedule regarding when I’ve to go to LFG to submit the quarterly report, so I still have to check with Goldman…

MC: By the way, the report I missed before the vacation, I’ll email it to you later at…

Victor: I remember it’s supposed to be the lunch break at [MC’s Company Name] right now.

MC: Eh?

Victor: I mean, how come a certain someone who says she doesn’t want to work is calling me and still talking about work?

MC: …!!

MC: In fact, there are, of course, also other things outside of work that I want to talk to you about~

MC: For instance… uhh… for instance, I think the sky doesn’t look good today, and there’s a good chance that it might rain!

Victor: It will indeed rain, but it’s gonna stop around 7 pm.

Victor: Have you forgotten? You put the umbrella in my bag in the morning.

MC: Sob sob, it turns out that I already reminded you… I’m dizzy from all the work rush.

MC: …by the way, Pudding hasn’t been eating very actively lately. So, I opened a can for it in the morning, and its appetite seemed to have improved a little~

Victor: That’s just its habitual trick, and it does the same thing every time it gets a craving for canned food.

Victor: And you are the only one it still manages to fool every time.

MC: …that’s because it calls out so pitifully every time! Oh, there’s also…

Victor: All right, no need to rack your brain to divert the subject.

Victor: Just now, I simply wanted to remind you to not get bogged down in work all day long. Occasionally, you should also hop around a little bit and let your mind rest for a while.

Victor: Let’s end the chat here for now. My next meeting is about to start.

Victor: Do you still have to work overtime tonight?

MC: Mm, I need to work over…

Victor: Remember to text me when you’re almost finished. Don’t worry, I’ll bring late-night snacks as comfort.

–

–

[2nd Call]

Starts at – 2:07

–

Victor: Are you working overtime tonight?

MC: No. It just happens that I can get off work on schedule. Just need five more minutes, and I’ll be able to sneak out of here~

Victor: That’s good. Come with me when you’re done, and we’ll go together to pick up the car.

Victor: The 4S store contacted me in the afternoon and said that the maintenance has been done and it’s good to be received today.

MC: Okay!

MC: It drove us through the desert and onto the glaciers. It was indeed time for it to take proper rest.

MC: By the way, has the scratch on the front of the car been repaired too?

Victor: It’s fixed. That was especially taken care of to make it exactly the same as before.

Victor: Or perhaps we could leave it as it was. You know, as a commemoration of a certain dummy’s driving skills.

MC: Victor! There’s no need for this kind of commemoration!

MC: Besides, I got it scruffed just that one time… all my parallel parking was perfect after that!

Victor: It was indeed perfect. It’s just that the duration became directly proportional to the result.

Victor: I had finished reading several emails, and a certain someone was still staring into the rearview mirror, meticulously adjusting the steering wheel.

MC: I was just being cautious, that’s all! Haven’t you heard of the saying, “it is better to be late in this world than to be early in the next”~

Victor: I’ve indeed heard of it. But if I remember correctly, this is a slogan to exhort drivers against running red lights.

Victor: A certain someone trying to use that as a justification for dilly-dallying while parking doesn’t seem very convincing.

MC: CEO Victor, you don’t need to poke holes into such small, insignificant details.

MC: How come you happen to notice all my occasional mistakes... my driving skills clearly aren’t that bad.

MC: You probably don’t know. You were so comfortable that you were actually snoring when we were on the highway~

Victor: ...okay, let’s assume that you’re telling the truth.

MC: What assume... what I said is exactly what happened! I’ll most definitely be the driver next time and wipe clean the “bad” impression you have of me.

MC: But calculating the time, it’ll be quite a while before we go on our next trip...

Victor: It doesn’t need to be quite a while. You can experience that one more time today.

MC: What?

Victor: It doesn’t only have to be the self-drive tours. You can also practice your skill on the route to when we go to work and return home.

Victor: I didn’t drive up here today, all so to give a certain someone the opportunity to “prove herself.”

Victor: All right, five minutes have passed. Come to LFG now. I’ll be waiting for you downstairs.

—

[jimblejamblewritings]

the imprint or the blood singer | part 7.

Summary: Y/N Black. All about La Push. Shy girl unless you get to know her. Not one to make friends easily despite the fact that she very well could. Friends with her brother’s friends until one Bella Swan comes back to town.

Warnings for the Series: light violence, light smut

Pairing: Edward Cullen x reader, Embry Call x reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist) 

It was the fourth day Embry hadn’t shown up for art class. Or eaten lunch with you guys. Or answered your texts. You weren’t sure what the problem was. When you went over, Ms. Call told you she was worried too but a visit from your father assured her that it was just mono. However, she warned you to get tested just in case he passed it to you.

Ms. Call was going to her book club but agreed that you could come over to give Embry some soup. You were worried about your friend, boyfriend. You used the spare key to let yourself in.

If Embry was as sick as the mono was making him out to be, you didn’t want him to get up just to answer the door. You set down the soup in the kitchen, confused when you heard laughter and noise. How loud did Embry have the television?

It wasn’t the TV you saw when you entered the living room. It was four shirtless men with short hair, laughing at something. One of them being Embry.

“So much for the mono. You roll with Sam Uley now? Think it’s cool to ditch classes now?”

All of them looked up at you, clearly not expecting anyone to be there.

“(Y/N)?” Embry asked. He made a move to stand up but one of the guys, you recognized as Paul, grabbed his arm.

“And you have a tattoo?” You looked at the arm that Paul grabbed.

“And I thought I was being a good girlfriend bringing you soup and everything. I knew I should’ve stayed away like Dad asked.”

“I thought you said she was chill,” Jared piped up.

Embry knew you were offended at that and Sam gave Jared a look to shut up.

“She is, let me talk to her.”

Paul let go of Embry.

“(Y/N/N)…” Embry stopped as he looked you in the eye.

The other boys grumbled.

“Of course everything works out in his favor,” Paul muttered.

“Embry?”

He quickly snapped out of his thoughts and strolled over to you.

“I really was sick a couple days ago. I’ll explain it soon, Sam’s been helping me.”

You looked at Sam and back to Embry. Something made you feel safe with him. He must’ve been telling the truth, you could feel the increased body temperature. He was probably still fighting off whatever it was.

“It’s like Edward,” you whispered.

“Edward?”

At the mention of a Cullen name, Embry started to shake slightly. He had forgotten they were your friends. The thought of any of them near you made him sick. He only calmed down when Sam abruptly called out his name. Embry centered himself back on you.

“He had some secrets,” you tried to phrase it in a way to keep your friend’s secret. “Weird things I had to accept on a strictly need-to-know basis… is this a need-to-know, Em?”

“Yeah, need-to-know. And I promise you’ll know all soon, once I’m better.” Embry kissed you on the cheek. “Go home now, (Y/N/N).”

“You’re sick and you still kiss me? Your mother was right, I’m gonna need a mono test.”

All the boys laughed. Embry went to kiss your other cheek, you tried and failed to avoid him.

~~

“Quil keeps asking about you. I think he likes you, Bells.” Jacob was putting the finishing touches on the motorcycles.

“Quil’s not exactly my type,” Bella said.

You caught the side eye she gave Jacob and the small smile on Jake’s face. You were wondering when one of them was going to step up to the plate and ask the other out. Jacob tested the motorcycles and once he was satisfied, started loading them up in the back of Bella’s truck. You slid into the back seat so the two of them could talk up front.

“What would you have said if I told you I couldn’t fix the bikes?”

“Hmm?”

“I just… maybe if I was smart I would’ve dragged out the project.”

“I would’ve just found something else for us to do,” Bella said, matter-of-factly. “Besides, I think (Y/N) would like her car finished.”

“Um, yes, (Y/N) would,” you said from the back.

“Is that Sam Uley?” Bella asked as she drove along the bridge.

Jacob scoffed. “Yeah. Him and his cult.”

Bella stopped the truck abruptly, almost making you slam into the back of Jacob’s seat. “Oh my God! Did you see that?”

You and Jacob started laughing.

“They’re not fighting, Bella,” Jacob explained. “They’re cliff-diving. It’s scary as hell but a total rush. Most of us jump from the lower cliffs. Leave the showing off to Sam and his disciples.”

“Is there some kind of beef with them or something?”

“Not really, they just think they run this place. Embry used to call them hall monitors on steroids and now look at him.”

You felt bad. Embry still didn’t hang around Jacob, never came to your house anymore. You only got calls and texts from him. It made you feel like you were in some period piece, only able to communicate through letters. Like no one was yet allowed to know of your secret affair.

You figured he was still in the need-to-know stage so you dropped it and agreed not to tell Jacob you were still with him. But you didn’t like seeing your brother hurt at the thought of losing his friend.

“That’s Embry? What happened to him?” Bella asked.

“Missed some school, all of a sudden we see him following around Sam like a lost puppy. Same thing with Paul and Jared. And Sam keeps giving me these looks…like he’s waiting for me or something.”

You looked at your brother confused. He didn’t tell you that Sam was watching him. You might’ve been on a need-to-know with Embry but you still didn’t like Sam.

“Well, just try to avoid them if you can.”

“I try.”

The three of you piled back into the truck and kept driving to an empty stretch of road. Jacob easily lifted the motorcycles out the truck. If you didn’t spend so much time with him, you would think Bella’s jokes about Jake being on steroids were true. You stood in the bed of Bella’s truck and watched as Jacob explained the motorcycle to her.

You cheered hard for your friend until she gained a little too much speed and flew off the bike, hitting a rock. You quickly jumped out of the truck and ran with Jacob to check on her. Jacob took off his shirt and began gently dabbing at the blood on her forehead.

“What are you looking at?”

“You’re kind of beautiful,” Bella said without much thought.

“How hard did you hit your head?”

“Hey Jake,” you started. “No more death contraptions.”

~~

You and Jacob pulled up outside of the theater in your newly fixed up vintage Volkswagen Beetle, meeting Mike and Bella. Bella invited Jake who asked if you could come. You invited Embry who turned it down when he discovered it wouldn’t just be the two of you. Bella was glad to have you along as a distraction for Mike once she found out all the others couldn’t come: Jessica bailed, Angela was sick so Eric was taking care of her.

“So Face Punch?” You asked, looking at the ticket.

“It’s supposed to be really good.”

“I’ll take your word for it, Mike,” you said unconvinced. “Let’s get popcorn.”

The movie was awful and after countless UFC Nights at Embry’s, the fighting wasn’t even that good. The only good thing that seemed to come from it was Bella leaning her head on Jacob’s shoulder. The movie had maybe thirty minutes left when Mike suddenly got up claiming he was going to throw up. The three of you looked at each other before getting up to check on him.

“What a marshmallow,” Jacob laughed as you guys headed to the stairs to wait for Mike.

“(Y/N), hold out for someone with a better stomach. A man who laughs at the gore instead of vomits.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Jake. But Mike wasn’t looking at me.”

At your words, you watched Bella slip her hand into Jacob’s. Mike finally met you guys.

“Well I need to go home, I’m feeling a bit sick… what’s your problem man?”

Mike confronted Jake who was chuckling under his breath. Something about Mike’s tone set Jacob off and you knew it. Normally he would brush something like that off but his face changed.

“Now? You’re my problem. You feel sick, need to go to the hospital? Maybe I should put you in the hospital.” Jacob stood up.

Bella quickly put herself in between the two of them. “Jake, Jake the movie’s over. Woah, Jake you’re really hot like burning up.”

Jacob looked like he was suddenly aware of where he was.

“I don’t know what’s happening…I’ll see you later Bella, come on (Y/N), let’s go home.”

Jacob pulled you by the hand and Bella was right. He was burning up, just like Embry.

Billy told you it was mono, the same type Embry had. The same type you figured out Paul had. And Jared and Sam. You told that same story whenever you hung out at Bella’s house telling her it was mono. You never hung out at your garage anymore, the boys— who had opened up more to you— asked you not to in case she saw Jacob. You were in the living room when Jacob handed you the pair of scissors to cut his hair and  when he got a tattoo. You watched how Jacob pushed everyone away and felt grateful that whatever had you in with Sam’s gang, kept your brother attached to you.

(Part 8)...

[kvothbloodless]

As is my tradition after finishing a locked tomb book, I will now post a list of the various things I did not understand, which made me say out loud “what the fuck”, in the hopes that someone, somewhere, understands what the fuck is going on and can explain to me.

1. What the fuck is up with Gideon and Harrow? Like, my understanding is Nona is Nav's soul in harrows body, with amnesia. But clearly not, since Nav is maybe in her own body? Where the fuck is Harrows soul? Its not in gideons body. She cant be a lyctor, so why does she have super healing? Why was Nona dying? What the fuck is going on?

AFTER READING: Okay so Nona is just Harrow with even more amnesia? Why was Nona dying? What the fuck is going on?

Hold on, wait a second. That might be the saddest thing in any of these books. Like, ever. And thats...a competition. THIS IS A WHAT HARROW WOULD BE IF SHED BEEN RAISED WITH LOVE AND NOT GUILT. 😭

2. What the fuck was up with Cam and Pal pre-Paul? They say theyre not lyctors, and the RB doesnt affect them, but they can heal and stuff, so its not just a normal possession (especially with the eyes).

3. How did G1deon and Pyrra end up sharing a body in the first place? Wht didnt they ever communicate in the 10,000 years? Did they do the same weird half lyctorhood that Cam and Pal have done?

4. How did Jod Get necromancy? In the dreams it just sorta appears after he spends time around corpses. Is he editing the story? Or is there no explanation for how magic suddenly became possible? Like. It seems like getting Jods backstory was gonna explain how necromancy actually works, what its source is, why no one had ever discovered it before. What the fuck is the River?

5. What Are the dreams. Like, is it just Harrow having hallucinations in the River? But then they wouldnt be accurate. Is Harrow going through Alecto/the bodys memories? Its pretty clear that sometimes Jod is talking about/to Alecto in the dreams, but he says Harrows name. Is this just the name replacing, and in actuality hes saying Alecto? Or was Jod also talking to Harrow?

6. What the fuck Was Alecto, why would everyone care about her. Is she the Earths RB, and so when hes talking about people not caring about her, they mean the earth? But that doesnt make sense, since the cryo project was to save people, not the planet.

AFTER READING: Okay so I think i was right here. But can someone please explain how John went full Jod? He killed everyone on the Earth, and used the thanergy to force the Earths soul into a body, yea? Then did some lyctor-esque bullshit, so he could use her soul as his fuel, and uses that to...do what exactly, I couldnt tell? Eat the thalergy from the sun and the other planets? Then rezed everyone on the planet, and gave them amnesia so they woulsnt remember he killed them? Also, does this mean jods lyctorhood is bases on thalergy rather than thanergy? Also, still unclear on how the cryo project was gonna save her in the first place? And how is the resurrection of the planets and sun still linked to Jod? ALSO, i think he lied at some point to Harrow, yea? Like. The reason he refused to resurrect some people isnt becuz of a great cost. He cant rez anyone if they died more than a moment ago, yea?

7. Why is 7 just...chilling in space? Is it because none of the lyctors on planet are acrual lyctors, so it cant find them, but irs attracted to them still? Why not just eat the whole planet? Dont RBs do that all the time?

8. Why can Nona understand the RB, and how was it possessing Judith? Im assuming Nonas big scream had to do with that. But like. How? What the fuck was 7 talking about?

9. How did they get Nona away from Jod? How did they lose Gideons body?

10. Why did Pyrra immedietly start cooperating with BoE? Hang on, how did She get away from Jod. Im assuming this will also answer the previous question.

11. What are Jods actual plans? Like, is he legit just trying to rule all of space? Seems like he should have an actual motivation for everything hes been doing. Maybe to save Alecto? But like. How? Also the fact that hes been so hands off and now hes "fragile". Like. This really does not come off as Either "generic tyrant" Or "guy with a myriad long master plan". What the fuck is going on?

AFTER READING: Is jods entire conquest literally just revenge because the source of those people are the rich ones that got away? Is he really That much of a whining baby? Has his entire myriad of life and manipulation of his loved ones been "avoid dying to the RBs, and take "revenge""?

AFTER READING MORE: Okay, follow up: what was jods actual plan (with the tomb)? Has he really become suicidal becuz of all his og friends are dead? If so, why the fuck did he kill Mercy? Why did he get Augustine killed? If hes actually this fucked up over it, it seems like hed have rather forgiven them. But also I dont think Ianthe misread the situation. So is he faking it? Is he trying to get Gideon/Kiriona killed? Why? What the fuck is going on?

12. What the fuck is wrong with Gideon/Kiriona? Like shes acting callous and a bit cruel and just...not Gideon. But she also seems to have similar goals as what Id expect. She really wants to find Harrow, she refuses to ever be constrained. Shes...vaguely helpful towards Coronabeth and Cam/Pal. She even makes the occasional funny dumb comment, and acts mostly like Gideon om the 9th But like. She seems...off. Shockingly, the Ianthe friendship tracks.

AFTER READING: Was that just Gideon after months of depression and repression? That still doesn’t seem right. I feel like Gideon wouldn’t break that fast, after 18 years under Crux. Especially like “the reverend daughter has no living cavalier” Gideon would Die before renouncing her cavaliership to Harrow. In fact, she did.

13. Are the numbers/chapters & verses of Jods backstory meaningful somehow?

14. Okay, so unless Ive missed count, theres like...4 (or maybe 5?) different types of lyctorhood? Theres the og method that kills the Cav. Theres Jods method where both survive in their own bodies. Theres G1deons method that haa both survive in the necros body (is this what Pal ans Cam were doing initially?). Theres the new method that combines both into a single person. And then maybe theres whatever the fuck is going on with Kiriona (unclear if thats lyctorhood or what). Also theres whatever Harrow did to leave Gideon in her body in HtN, which might have just been a shittier version of whatever G1deon did. Did I miss anything, get anything wrong? Also, what the fuck?

15. What do we know about what happened with Jod and Alecto after the resurrection? Like. They clearly had some sort of romantic relationship, but also she went murderbeast and he had to lock her up? Whyd she go murderbeast? And whyd he lock her up? It seems pretty clear Jod was never particularly stable. I mean, he did seem pretty set on saving humanity, but even still, seems very weird that hed agree to lock her up, given how much he loved her.

16. Okay, so Jod is insanely vindictive and fairly controlling. His paranoia explains why he didnt give the og lyctors perfect lyctorhood. But he seems to have genuinely loved them, and didnt seem cruel. Why not, like, one of the other types, that didnt require awful trauma? And why the other dickish stuff, like leaving Cytherea's illness and shit?

17. Huh, so pretty sure we got confirmation Harrow has always beeen schizophrenic, which is super cool. Now I wanna go back and read GtN and see if this changes my reading at all.

18. What else did I miss/not catch? Im sure there was a bunch of clues and info that I wasn’t smart enough to pick up on.

Question still unanswered from Harrow the Ninth:

1. What the fuck is all this about the river and God not knowing about it? What the fuck is Hell? What are these devils? What the fuck?