#like if i had seen it coming there's no possible way i would have been this level of crushed bc ?? i wouldve seen it coming

[rhaenella]

LN4 | Challenge Accepted

pairing: lando norris x non-driver!reader

genre: one shot ✿

summary: it’s been five years since the last chinese gp, so when you and lando are set up to race each other on the shanghai circuit on mclaren’s state of the art simulator, anything is possible…

word count: 5.6k

masterlist

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The sound of feet tapping restlessly against the floor, alternated by the squeaking of a swivel chair spinning round, echoed through the large hall at McLaren HQ. With a sigh, you refreshed your social media—again—but there were no new posts of any kind to keep you occupied. You’d already gone through all of them.

Your boyfriend and F1 driver, Lando Norris, was somewhere in the massive building, filming interviews, challenges and whatnot for the McLaren social media platforms. He had asked if you'd come with him today, mostly because you already saw so little of each other due to his busy schedule. Not that you saw much of each other right now, but at least there wasn’t an ocean between you like there usually was. 

Besides, he’d promised he would wrap up as quickly as he could, and take you out for dinner. So. The wait was worth it. Even though you were bored out of your mind for the foreseeable future.

After walking up and down the hall’s boulevard four times over, admiring all of the beautiful, historical cars on display, you had checked out the trophy wall, which was just as impressive. But since you weren’t allowed access anywhere else inside the building, at least not without a chaperone, there wasn’t much else for you to do or see. That’s how you found yourself in your current situation, spinning around in a chair like an impatient five-year-old, the line of racing cars and the lake outside whooshing by. 

“Y/N?”

The chair came to an abrupt stop. “Yea–yes?” you squinted at the blurry figure in front of you. 

Maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea to spin around so many times that your vestibular system now made it feel like you were on a ship battling a terrible storm. Luckily, once your vision cleared, you recognised the person instantly. It was Lando’s performance engineer, Andrew Jarvis. You’d seen him around race tracks a few times—he was always very friendly and kind to you.

“Jarv! Hi, how are you?”

“I’m good, thanks. What about yourself?”

“Oh, good, good… Enjoying the scenery,” you sneered, waving a hand.

“Right,” he drawled, looking you up and down with an amused smile. “Bored?”

“Yes,” you groaned, sinking a little deeper into the chair. “So. Fucking. Bored.”

Jarv chuckled. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m afraid Lando is still tied up. I think he and Oscar are filming some kind of… song challenge? I don’t know,” he shrugged with another laugh. “It’s not exactly my area of expertise.”

Your lips quirked up. “Imagine if it was. You could start hiding strategy calls in songs and sing them over the board radio.”

He wavered. “That would be…”

“Genius?”

“Eh, well,” he faltered, his mouth twitching all the same. 

“Right. Maybe not,” you laughed. 

Although, privately you thought it would be a hilarious idea. With a tinge of brilliance, perhaps. But the pinnacle of motorsport would probably be a little too serious to see it your way. 

“I’m obviously not an engineer, or a strategist, or a driver. So, I guess I’ll just stay here,” you sighed, patting the armrests of your new friend, the swivel chair. “And try to excel in exercising patience instead.”

Jarv nodded, his brows furrowing. “Maybe you don’t have to…” 

You eyed him with a suspicious look. “What do you mean?”

He checked his watch and glanced around before looking back to you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I have an idea. Come with me.”

Jarv had already turned on his heel before you could object, expecting you to blindly follow him to wherever it was he intended to take you. Which you did… without too much thought. Let’s just say boredom got the best of you. Choosing between sitting another god knows how many hours in that chair, or doing something—anything—the choice wasn’t hard. So, you leaped from your seat, sprinting to catch up with him. 

“Wait!” 

He slowed down, and you fell into step beside him. “What’s your idea? Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

You neared the large double doors at the rear of the boulevard. Jarv pressed his right thumb on a small, glass box on the wall next to them, waiting for his fingerprint to be authorised. The system scanned his print, and the light tinged green. “Welcome, Mr. Jarvis,” a female voice said as the doors automatically opened in front of you.

“Nice.”

Jarv grinned, gesturing for you to precede him into the restricted wing of McLaren HQ. The part that the general public never got to see. You gazed around in amazement. You knew it was a large building, but it was more like a maze back here, and you quickly lost all sense of direction.

“I should probably text Lando, he’s gonna wonder where I’ve disappeared to.”

“Don’t worry, Lando is heading where we’re going, too.”

You relaxed a little at that, however your curiosity didn’t subside as you trailed after Jarv throughout the many long corridors. Where the hell were you going?

The behind the scenes looked arguably even more impressive than all the trophies and race-winning cars that were being flaunted in the entrance hall. You passed countless offices, labs, and workshops where employees were working on top-secret updates for the MCL38, or perhaps even next year’s car. And although Jarv kept up a good pace, you were still able to sneak a few glimpses here and there, thanks to all the glass walls. Most of the technology looked so futuristic, you felt like you had accidentally stepped onto the set of a sci-fi film.

Jarv made a sharp right turn down another hallway. This one only had one door at the end, and it wasn’t made out of glass like the rest of them, which prevented you from being able to see what was behind it. 

You read the sign next to the door, which only added to the mystery. 

Strictly No Admittance. Authorised Personnel Only.

“This is it,” Jarv said, retrieving a key to unlock the door, opening it wide. 

Well, there was your authorisation.

You stepped into the mysterious, dimly lit room, your eyes gradually widening with awe. 

The room was roughly twelve by twelve metres, and in the centre stood two professionally altered Formula 1 cars, both with their own 180-degree widescreens set up in a semicircle around them. The back wall was lined with large computer screens, a row of chairs stationed in front of them, which gave you the feeling you were looking at a small-scale pitwall. 

Holy… beep.

Speaking of futuristic tech, this was way up there.

“Welcome to the McLaren simulation room.”

You whirled around to face Jarv, beaming. “This is incredible. I’ve never seen a sim like this before.”

It was true. Sure, Lando had his own simulator at home in Monaco. But it was nothing compared to this piece of craftsmanship.

Jarv hummed, smiling as he walked to the faux-pitwall. “So. You ready to try it out?”

You blinked. “Ready to–wait a minute… what?”

You stared at Jarv as he turned on the computers, pressing buttons here and there that made the right car hum to life. Next, the widescreen around the car powered up as well, causing a wave of light to brighten the otherwise dark room.

“Jarv?”

He opened a cabinet, retrieving a steering wheel before he walked to the simulator. “Come on, don’t tell me you don’t want to.”

“That’s not it,” you trailed off. 

“Good,” he said, turning around, looking at you expectantly. “So get in, then.”

“But… what about Lando? You said he was on his way over here. Don’t they need the room?”

“They will be here to film something in,” Jarv checked his watch again. “In a little over an hour. Until then, the room is empty, and we can use it. I presume you’ve driven a simulator before?”

“Yeah, I have… but don’t I need some kind of special clearance to use one of these?” One of these super expensive, highly accurate simulators that are solely used to train drivers and prepare the real cars and their setups for race weekends. Whatever could go wrong?

“Y/N, don’t worry about it. I’m Lando’s performance engineer. I’m one of the few that gets to decide who uses the sim.”

You shifted your weight, still unsure. “I’m not gonna be any good at it.”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you have fun, or would you rather return to the waiting area?”

“No.”

Jarv’s smile widened, and he gestured to the sim, inviting you to take a seat.

You hesitantly walked up to the car, twisting your rings, a nervous habit of yours. You’d tried the simulator at Lando’s before, and like you’d already pointed out to Jarv, you weren’t any good at it. Lando had tried to talk you through it, telling you where to break and lift, but it was painfully clear you weren’t cut out to be a driver. 

And now you had to drive in McLaren’s state of the art simulator, under the watchful eye of Lando’s performance engineer. The pressure was real. You didn’t want to make a complete fool out of yourself.

After you’d managed to, somewhat awkwardly, settle yourself in the sim’s seat, Jarv locked the steering wheel into place. It was familiar to you as it looked exactly like the one on Lando’s car, just like everything else on this sim. Except that it didn’t have a front or back wing, or any tyres.

“Alright, before you start driving, it’s important to know the ins and outs of the track you’re racing at. Which in this case will be Shanghai, the location of next weekend’s race,” Jarv said, pressing a few buttons. 

The layout of the track popped up on the screen in front of you, with a sea of information and data appearing on the sides. 

“Don’t worry about the data. We’ll stick to the basics that are of importance to you as a driver. Ready?”

You nodded.

“Good. So, the Shanghai International Circuit has sixteen corners, two DRS-zones on the main straights; one in sector three, and the other on start-finish…”

***

“I don’t know, I feel like maybe I should pursue a musical career,” Lando joked as he and Oscar followed Marion, the head of McLaren’s PR team, down the building’s corridors. 

They had just finished filming another challenge for YouTube. Or Instagram. Or both. Lando didn’t really care about the specifics. It was just another part of his job. Something he’d rather be done with soon, so he could go back to his girl.

Oscar snorted. “Yes, I’m sure you’ll be a Grammy-nominated artist in no time.”

Lando grinned, agreeing with a nod. 

“Alright, lads. One more, and then you’re free to go,” Marion called over her shoulder. 

It was absolute music to Lando’s ears.

“What is it that we have to do?” Oscar asked.

“You’ll be racing each other on the sim, just for a couple of laps, around the Shanghai circuit.”

“I thought we were gonna train on the sim in the morning,” Lando said.

Marion nodded. “You will. This is only a short challenge for a video ahead of the Chinese Grand Prix. Because we haven’t raced there in so long, we thought it’d be fun to film your initial reaction to the track driving the MCL38.”

He and Oscar shared a look. They were always down for a race. There was no question about it.

The click-clacking of Marion’s heels bounced around the hallway as the group made their way to the simulation room. When they arrived, Will, Lando’s race engineer, and a camera and sound crew were waiting for them by the door.

“Why are you all out here? You should be setting up the cameras,” Marion scolded, looking at the men expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

But the men ignored her, instead they all looked to Lando, grinning. He frowned, not at all understanding the meaning behind the knowing looks they were sending him. What was up with them?

“Someone beat us to the sim, I’m afraid,” Will explained, his eyes still on Lando.

Marion turned to Lando as well, equally confused. “What does that mean?”

Lando met her eye and shrugged. “Hell if I know.”

As if on cue, a high pitched scream came from the simulation room, followed by a distinct, “That’s more like it!”

Will and the crew chuckled, but Marion wasn’t having it. “What on earth is going on,” she bristled, pushing past them to enter the room.

Lando followed her, but he couldn’t have been less prepared for the scene they stumbled upon next. 

Occupying one of the simulators was his girlfriend, and right next to you stood Jarv, who was closely monitoring your driving, giving you short and precise instructions. You were going down the straight at full throttle, following Jarv’s pointers as you breaked and hit the curb perfectly for a smooth exit.

What the hell? 

He’d thought you were still waiting for him in the entrance hall on the other side of the building. Never in a million years had he expected to find you here, racing on McLaren’s simulator, looking like you actually knew what you were doing no less. 

So that’s why all the guys had been smirking at him…

“What do we have here?”

You jumped at Lando’s voice, immediately causing the car to spin and crash during your momentary lapse of concentration. 

“Fuck! I was on a flying lap…”

“And a bloody good one at that,” Jarv added, proud.

Lando’s eyebrows shot up. “You were what?” His eyes flicked from you to Jarv, to you, and then back to Jarv. “Mate?”

Before Jarv could utter a word, you turned to face your boyfriend with a wide smile. “Baby, guess what?! I’m not a complete loser at this!”

“I–I’m so proud of you… but,” Lando shook his head, still not understanding any of this. “Why are you two in here?”

You grabbed onto the halo and pulled yourself out of the car to face him. “Jarv came to see how I was doing, and since I had nothing better to do, he suggested I’d give this a try,” you explained, gesturing to the sim.

“Oh, I see,” Lando smiled. 

Yet he struggled to swallow the bitter taste at seeing you spending time and having fun with Jarv. All the while he had been stuck ‘working’. Not that he blamed you for it. He was the one who left you all by yourself for so long. But still… 

“Uhm, but now that you’re all here,” you said, a bit sheepish, your eyes scanning the gathering crowd. “I’ll uhm, I’ll leave you to it.”

“Very well,” Marion called, but she was quickly interrupted.

“No, no, no, no. Wait a second. I need to know something first,” Will spoke, stepping forward. “Jarv, we need your professional assessment, man. How did she do?”

Marion sighed, tapping her phone to check the time, which only made her look more impatient. Lando ignored her, his eyes sliding from you to his performance engineer, curious as well. 

“Y/N did great. She struggled a little at first, but the more laps she did, the better she got,” Jarv beamed. He turned to face Lando. “You know, I reckon she’d even have a good chance at beating you.”

Lando studied him. “You’re joking.”

“No, I’m being serious, mate. I’d wager good money on it.”

Marion’s annoyance evaporated within an instant, her eyes lighting up. “Oh gosh, that is a perfect idea, Jarvis.”

“What is? Gambling?” 

“No,” she huffed. “I mean, instead of Lando against Oscar, we can have these two lovebirds race each other on the sim instead!”

“What?” you and Lando cried in unison.

Everyone looked at you, and your cheeks tinged a soft pink. You weren’t used to all the attention, usually preferring to keep a lower profile. Well, as much as that was possible dating a Formula 1 driver.

“Guys, I’m flattered. Truly, I am. But I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes. I know you’re all here to do a job, and that job doesn’t include me…”

“That’s right,” Lando agreed. He shot you a brief smile before addressing Marion. “Besides, she doesn’t like to be the centre of attention, and I don’t want her to embarrass herself in front of the eyes of millions.”

Something stirred inside you. “What does that mean? You don’t think I can beat you?”

“Well, sweetheart…”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you mumbled, your eyes narrowing. 

Under other circumstances, you would have agreed with him. But this last hour and a half with Jarv had boosted your confidence. It had gone really well, exceeding both of your expectations on your sim racing capabilities by miles. And maybe, some part of you, just wanted to show him that.

Like Lando, you never shied away from competition. Not if you had a chance at winning. You weren’t a hundred percent sure if you did right now. But you couldn’t deny you weren’t more than a little curious to find out. And seeing as Lando had just called you out in front of everyone, the only logical thing to do was rise to the challenge.

“You know what? I’m in.”

With that, you climbed back into the snug seat, forcing the thought of having everyone’s eyes on you to the back of your mind. 

Lando’s eyes widened. “What?” 

“Wonderful,” Marion exclaimed. “Let’s roll, people.”

Lando watched as everybody around him immediately jumped into action, including the camera and sound guys who got ready to put it all on film. Jarv grinned and grabbed his tablet, giving a slight nod to Will, who nodded in return and went to start up the second simulator and retrieve a steering wheel for Lando.

“I’ll be assisting Y/N, and just like with a normal race, Will can be Lando’s engineer,” Jarv said.

“Yep,” Will said, holding up the steering wheel as he walked to the other sim. “We’re good to go.”

“We are too!” one of the crewmen announced.

Marion smiled, but it faded when she noticed Lando still standing by the door, not having moved an inch. “What are you waiting for? Get in the car,” she said.

She started pushing Lando in the direction of the other sim, but he stood his ground. 

“Hold on. We can’t do this.”

“What? Why not?”

“Yeah, why not?”

Lando sighed. “You know why.” 

Did they? Did he? 

Lando loved to race, and he certainly loved you. So what was stopping him from combining the two? 

He wasn’t scared of losing—he never has been, and never would. Not that there was any real chance that you, an inexperienced ‘driver’, could beat him today. There was simply no way. 

He’d seen you try the sim at his house, and despite his best efforts, you were, for lack of a better term, absolute rubbish. But then again, Jarv had seemed so sure of himself. That man didn’t lie or exaggerate. He would give it to you straight if you underperformed or weren’t any good. Lando had always admired and respected that. 

So, had Jarv been able to unearth some sort of racing talent that was buried deep inside of you? Something that Lando himself hadn’t managed to uncover…

Was that why he hesitated going up against you? His sense of pride?

Lando groaned internally. If anything, that should make him that much more adamant to race you.

He looked over to see you were already staring at him, ambition burning bright in your eyes. Ambition to beat him. At the thing he did best… It was alluring, and Lando felt his own competitiveness flare. 

“No, we don’t. Honestly, what’s stopping you?”

“It’s only five laps. It’ll be a piece of cake for you, Norris.”

“Unless that’s the problem,” Jarv joked. “Maybe he needs to warm up and familiarise himself with the track first…”

“I think all of you are forgetting that I’m the only one here who actually raced in Shanghai,” Lando shot back, unconsciously taking a step towards the sim.

“And how did that work out for you, mate?” Oscar chimed in.

Lando glared at him and Oscar struggled to contain his laughter. 

“Even better,” you exclaimed, reclaiming your boyfriend’s attention. “You have on track experience and I’ve had a little time to prepare with Jarv. That’s fair enough, right?”

“Y/N… are you sure you want to…” 

He was so close to giving in. He knew it, you knew it, probably everyone did. Besides, you had one more trick up your sleeve. One that would surely make his competitive side overshadow any lingering doubts, and get him to race you in that other sim.

“When have you ever walked away from a race? Hm? Unless you’re scared you’ll lose…”

That struck the intended chord. 

Oh, she didn’t, Lando thought. 

You gave him your most innocent looking smile, but he knew damn well what you were doing. He shook himself. Fine. If you wanted to race him so badly, he would give it to you. And no way in hell would he still consider going easy on you.

Lando promptly made his way to the other car and slid into the seat with practised ease. He signalled Will, who handed him the steering wheel. He clicked it into place before glancing to his right, smiling dangerously. “Alright, you’re on, darling. Challenge accepted.”

At that, Jarv entered a bunch of commands on his tablet, which was connected to the simulator’s system, to set the race parameters. Two cars appeared on the screens, each from their own driver’s point of view, already in position to start racing at Shanghai’s International Circuit.

“As you can see, Lando will start on the right and Y/N will start on the left,” Jarv informed.

“Whoa, wait a minute,” Lando sputtered. “Why are you starting from pole and not me?”

“Because I clocked the fastest lap time.”

“You clocked the only lap time.”

You shrugged, smiling. “Take it up with race control, baby.”

“Don’t worry,” Will reassured, looking at his own tablet as he scrolled through the accumulated data from your runs. “Break late, and you can easily overtake her in the first corner.”

Lando nodded, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel as the digital green flag was waved.

Jarv leaned in to whisper in your ear: “No, he won’t. Just remember what I taught you.”

“Aye, aye,” you said, focusing on the lights.

The cameras were all set and rolling, and Marion looked around, relishing the unexpected turn of events. This would be an enormous hit online, for sure. Her eyes landed on Oscar who stood to the back, watching the couple with an amused glint in his eye. If only she could involve him as well somehow… that would make it even better.

“Oscar, why don’t you take on the role of commentator?” Marion suggested, her tone indicating that he didn’t have much of a choice. 

Oscar startled. “Oh. Uhm. Yeah, sure.”

He moved to stand in between the two simulators, clearing his throat. “Right. Uhm. Welcome to the Shanghai International Circuit for the 2024 Chinese Grand Prix… It’s Sunday, April 21st—well, not really but let’s go with it—uhm, and we’ll soon start racing–”

“You’re a lousy commentator, Piastri,” Lando interrupted.

Oscar rolled his eyes. “How about you worry about yourself, Norris.”

Lando snickered, but he quickly sobered when the first light gleamed red. Then the second, the third, the fourth, the fifth, and…

“It’s lights out and away we go!”

You got away quick, but Lando was faster, years of experience siding with him.

“Lando dives into the first corner, ahead of Y/N. Can she cross back? No, no she cannot. Ah, bummer…” Oscar narrated. “She’s right behind him, though, going into turn 3. Lando nearly missing the apex there, but he recovers well. OH! Oh, never mind. Lando goes wide in turn 6! Yeah, he’s familiar with that one.”

“Shut up,” Lando snapped.

“I didn’t think so, mate,” Oscar grinned, settling into his new character nicely. 

“Y/N is back on his heels as they go down sector two. DRS is not yet enabled, but she is only six tenths behind! Will Y/N be able to overtake Norris without DRS on the straight? She’s getting closer… they’re racing each other into turn 14, and… OH Y/N, massive lock-up! She manages to keep the car on track. Excellent save! But that’s gonna cost her some valuable time.”

You crossed start-finish, eyeing the time as you entered lap two.

Oscar’s voice boomed loud. “DRS enabled! But Y/N is too far–”

“Just 1.2 seconds behind, you can still do this,” Jarv encouraged. “Line-up on the left and take the first corner on the inside. Yeah, like that. Good.”

On the other side of the room, Will was giving Lando similar instructions. It had, after all, been a while since Lando had last raced this track. During his rookie year, no less. Therefore it was currently taking him quite a bit of effort to find the correct race line, especially with the many difficult corners and hairpins around the track. 

“Steady on,” Will said. “Y/N is out of DRS. Let’s keep it that way.”

The couple sped down the track on their simulators, and even though most of your focus was spent on driving and listening to Jarv’s notes, you also marvelled at the accuracy and realism of the sim. From the sensations of the literal car you were seated in, down to the gravel Lando’s little off-track adventure had caused to spread in and around turn 6. Whatever the outcome of the race, this experience would certainly beat waiting around and lounging in that swivel chair.

“Great exit from Norris who is absolutely flying down the straight in sector three, followed by Y/N at 1.4 seconds. Still doing a phenomenal job so far!” Oscar continued, his eyes glued to the screen. “Approaching turn 14, can Y/N manage the hairpin this time? What?! Oh, no! It’s Lando that locks up this time… Oiiioii, mighty turn 14 proves to be too much for both of our star drivers.”

Jarv kept a close eye on the interval time, and thanks to Lando’s mistake, the gap had already shrunk to 1.1 seconds. “Okay, now use the extra power from the ERS to get closer,” he instructed.

You did as you were told, pressing the correct button on the steering wheel, which gave you an extra boost to get even closer to Lando.

“Y/N gaining on Norris! And she’s now back within DRS at 0.9 seconds. Whoa, what a truly remarkable performance by someone who has never driven a race car or a sim like this before! I’d vote for her as driver of the day…”

“No one asked your opinion,” Lando cut off, sounding a little strained.

“Whatever,” Oscar shrugged, unbothered. “Lando Grumpy-Ass Norris struggles to maintain the gap between him and his girlfriend, hitting the curb a little enthusiastically right there. Oh, Y/N faces the same issues! It’s all about keeping the focus now, ladies and gents. Will Y/N be able to close the gap? Will she be able to attack Norris?”

Marion stood behind the cameras, watching gleefully how you and Lando raced each other around the virtual Shanghai circuit. Oh, you were even better than she could have ever anticipated. Better than anyone in the room could have ever anticipated, really. The whole crew was watching the race with baited breath. 

You were almost equally matched. With you, a real diamond in the rough, having received some training beforehand, and Lando, an experienced driver, essentially going in blind—it was a golden match.

Were you going to be able to do the unthinkable?

“We’re going into the penultimate lap, and even with Lando strategically using his batteries, Y/N has managed to close the gap to 0.7 with DRS. And there she is also clocking the fastest lap. Wow!”

“You can win a little bit of extra time in sector two,” Will analysed. “Turns 9 and 12 are crucial. You need a good exit.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando said. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Does he?” Oscar cut in. “We’ve got track limits for Norris in turn 9! He’s getting desperate now, with Y/N coming for him at 0.6 seconds. Is she going to—yes! She’s attempting to overtake Norris ahead of turn 11 but… fails… Oh, that was a bold move by Y/N! She lost a bit of time with that one, but she’s still within DRS range and knows she will be able to get close again for another attack.”

Your knuckles were turning white from how tight you were gripping the steering wheel. You couldn’t make a mistake, not now. You were so close… On the other sim, Lando was in a similar state. Although he was clenching his jaw in concentration instead. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep you behind him.

“Final lap,” Oscar announced. “And Norris crosses the white lines again! Turn 3 this time. Yep, there it is. Second track limits for Norris. He is feeling the heat, and not the good kind.”

Jarv’s mouth twitched. “It’s been five years since Lando raced here, let’s use it to our advantage,” he spoke to you in a hushed tone.

You nodded, your eyes never wavering from the screen in front of you.

Jarv checked the data, both yours and Lando’s, then leaned in. “Okay, here’s what you’ll do: instead of following the race line at–”

Will was closely observing you and Jarv from the other side of the room, but he couldn’t make out what Jarv was saying over the sounds of the simulators’ engines and Oscar still commentating to his heart’s content. He looked down at his driver, who was fully focused on the task before him.

“And then use the charged batteries after exiting turn 13. I know Lando’s defending tactics, this should work. He won’t see it coming,” Jarv finished. 

You simply nodded again, trusting your engineer’s judgement. You would give it your all to try and execute his strategy as best you could.

“As we’re nearing the chequered flag, all bets are off. Lando is fighting for his position with everything he has, but Y/N is not ready to call it quits just yet!” 

Your heart rate was off the charts, but you managed to stay calm, hitting the apexes, the metres between you and Lando’s car in front dwindling with each passing second.

“0.5 seconds, 0.4 seconds…”

“Flat out, Y/N. Let’s go,” Jarv said, his own heart rate ticking up.

“She’s chasing him, with DRS… There she comes. There she comes… round the inside! Y/N overtakes Norris!” Oscar roared. “Diving into the infamous turn 14… and… and she makes it! Hell yeah! What a mega move from Y/N! Now into the final corner. Can she stay ahead of Norris? Can she…? Yes!! Yes, she can!”

You passed the chequered flag, your mouth falling open in shock.

“Y/N wins the Chinese Grand Prix!”

“OH MY GOD!!”

Jarv's laugh pierced the room. “Get in! I told you!”

He managed to stop himself just in time before he started jumping up and down like an overly excited little boy. You shared his enthusiasm though, unable to control the slight tremor in your hands at seeing your name next to the word WINNER displayed boldly on the screen in front of you. 

Holy fuck, you did it. You actually did it.

Lando sank low in his seat. “How the hell…”

Will patted him on the shoulder, consoling. “You did your best mate.”

“Clearly it wasn’t enough,” he grumbled.

Will glanced at their celebrating opponents, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Get your mind out of the gutter, mate, and look on the bright side.”

“Which is?”

“Your girlfriend just showed you the perfect overtake manoeuvre for Sunday.”

“Ha-ha, very funny…”

Although, you really did. 

Lando turned to see Jarv help you out of the simulator, still grinning from ear to ear. You were reeling, the adrenaline of the fight and win coursing through your veins. Suddenly you understood what it must feel like to come out of a real F1 car, and to stand on the podium, basking in that feeling of winning a race.

As soon as you were out, Jarv high-fived you. “Solid race. That’s some potential, that is.”

Oscar came up next. “Awesome job, Y/N. Seriously. Great overtake at the end there. Perhaps you’ll be my future teammate,” he winked.

You giggled. “Thanks, guys!”

Even Will smiled at you, giving you a thumbs up as you walked over to Lando who was still seated in the other sim, sulking.

“Oh, come on,” you pouted, reaching out your hand, a peace offering. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Sure thing, it was,” he muttered, but he accepted your hand anyway before jumping out of the car. 

When he stood in front of you, he took a moment to look you up and down, a smile slowly creeping onto his face. His ego may have taken quite the blow today, but there was no denying he was also extremely proud of you. Jarv had been right after all, and Lando was happy he hadn’t taken the engineer up on his bet.

He shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe it. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises?”

You shrugged, smiling. “Need to keep things fresh and exciting, don’t I? Otherwise you’ll tire of me in no time.”

“Never,” Lando scoffed, wrapping his arm around your waist and giving your lips a soft peck. “However, as much as I’m proud of you… this footage will never see the light of day.” 

You laughed, your eyes locking with Marion.

She sent you a wink. “We’ll see about that.”

***

a/n: thank you for reading <3 feedback is adored. 

by the way, should i make a taglist for future f1 fics? is that something you’d be interested in? or perhaps for specific drivers? let me know!

also posted on ao3

[rafesfavgirl]

her lips on your neck — j. maybank

meant to have this up last night, but i got fucked up lolz

❝ since you admitted it, i keep picturing her lips on your neck, i can't unsee it ❞

pairing: cheater!jj x fem!reader

context: late at night, you get back to the obx from a week-long trip to new york with your parents and decide to surprise your boyfriend and best friends.

words: 1.4k+

warnings: cheating (i don't condone it!!), might break you, no happy ending, ANGST ANGST ANGST

"what the fuck are we suppose to tell y/n?" you hear pope mention your name, as he sat with john b in the enclosed back porch of the chateau and immediately stop yourself from joining them, curious as to what else they had to say.

"dude, i don't know," john b shrugged at him, the expression on his face looking as if he was torn between some hard decision.

what could they possibly be talking about?

"i mean, it's not like they meant for it to happen, right?" john b continued, sounding like he was trying to convince himself of something.

"do you really think she'll see it that way?" pope asks him. "jj just slept with kie."

john b winces at pope's words like they were too hard for him to hear and your heart drops to the pit of your stomach, your eyes becoming blurry with tears as anger starts coursing through your veins.

"we gotta tell her," pope adds.

they didn't even hear that you'd entered the porch, now only standing a few feet away from them.

"you just did." the sound of your voice causes them to snap their heads towards you, both of them now completely at a loss for words. "is jj here?" you speak slowly to stop your voice from shaking.

when neither of them reply and just exchange glances, you repeat yourself. "where's. jj."

"y/n…" john b starts to stand from his seat, but you don't let him finish or get any closer, before you're barging into the chateau.

you feel your body shake as jj comes out of one of the rooms chuckling and pulling his muscle tank down.

"you didn't," you shake your head as he looks at you.

"y/n…"

when kiara comes out of the same room and steps up behind him, you get your answer.

"you did," you say, your eyes shifting from kie to jj.

"babe, i-" jj begins, taking a step towards you.

"no," you immediately cut him off and hold a hand out in front of you to stop him from getting any closer. “we’re done.”

that was two weeks ago. you hadn’t seen jj, or your friends since then, actively trying to avoid them as much as possible. that didn’t stop them from texting though.

john b and pope have checked in every now and then to make sure you’re doing okay, while kie and jj blow your phone up 24/7 with empty apologies.

j<3: i’m outside. please let me explain.

you stare at the text on your phone for a second and hop to your feet to peek out the window, where surely enough, you saw jj perched against his bike on the curb of your front lawn, waiting.

letting out a deep sigh and against your better judgment, you walk towards the front door and open it, only to find that he had walked up your front porch and was about to knock.

“hey…” his voice is small, and his baby blue eyes light up at the sight of you, making your heart ache.

by the prominent eye bags under them, you could tell he hadn’t gotten much sleep either. but wasn’t that how it should have been? he was the one who cheated on you.

you don’t say a word and just turn to walk further into your living room, jj following after you and shutting the door.

“i know you don’t owe me anything,” he continues, as you turn to look at him again, your arms crossed across your chest.

“you’re right, i don’t,” you say, trying to be cold.

it was hard, though. there was a piece of your heart that still yearned for him. a piece that you had a feeling would love him forever. no matter how badly he’s just screwed you over.

“why’d you do it?” you ask.

“i don’t know,” he shrugs. “i don’t know why i did it. we were drinking… and talking… you weren’t here, and i- i guess we just…”

“what?” you feel your hand start to shake as he tried to come up with an excuse. “got caught up in the moment?”

“y- yeah…” he glances down, and you scoff.

“god, i am such an idiot!” you run your hands through your hair and take a seat on the armchair behind you.

“y/n that’s not…” he slowly approaches you while you shake your head at him.

“i should’ve known,” you say. “it was her before me.”

jj shakes his head as he closes the distance between the two of you and crouches down in front of you, a hand landing on your knee. “baby, that’s not true.”

you glance at his hand on your knee before looking at him again. “but it is.”

“look, i fucked up, okay?” he said, his tone desperate now. “i know that. but please… please believe me when i tell you that it was a mistake. and it’s never going to happen again.”

“how can i believe that?” you ask, tears threatening to brim along your lower lashes. 

“just trust me,” he tells you.

a bitter scoff falls from your lips as you stand up and cross the room, half angry and half confused, not knowing what to think or believe.

“i did trust you, j!” you say, turning to look at him again with tears in your eyes as he gets up from his crouching position and faces you. “and you screwed me over anyway.”

“y/n…” he walks towards you, and you feel your weight shift to one foot, your body feeling a little limp. 

there was a part of you that still loved him—feelings don’t disappear just like that—but you knew you deserved better. that there was someone out there who wouldn’t even think about doing what he did.

"i love you…" he brings a hand up to caress your cheek and push your hair back, your first instinct causing you to lean into his touch, a sad smile pulling at the corner of your lips as you lock your eyes with his. "pretty girl." he closes the distance between you two, his forehead resting against yours, a tear trailing down your cheek as you closed your eyes. "i am so so so sorry. i promise— i promise, i won't ever hurt you again."

you wanted nothing more than to believe him. to forgive him. to forget. but you knew, deep down, that wasn't possible.

you shake you hear against his, sniffling. "j, i can't…"

"no, no, no," he replied. "you can. you— you have to, i can't-" he tilts his chin upwards to kiss you, and though you want desperately to let him, you push him away.

"no, jj!" you shout. "you— you can't just kiss me and think it's all gonna go away!"

"okay, okay, i'm not," he backs off a little, and then takes your hands in his, baby blues pleading. "but you need to forgive me. i could never live with myself if you didn't. i— i can't go on without you… without…" he brings your hands together and clasps his hands around them as he brings them up to his lips to kiss them softly. "your touch…" he moves a hand towards your cheek again, caressing it just like last time. "your smile…" he trails it across your collar bone and down your arm to place it on your chest. "your love… god, y/n i’ve never been loved by anyone like you."

his face falls limp against you and he drops to his knees, arms immediately locking around your hips as he rests the side of his head against you.

"please… please forgive me," his voice sounds desperate now, breaking your heart even more.

"i— i can't…" you wrap your hands around his arms and try to pull him off you, but it doesn't work—he just clutches onto you tighter. "you're just not the same person to me anymore…" you shake your head. "the jj i fell for would've never ever done anything to hurt me, but now…" you bring your hands up to your head, trying to keep it together. "god! every time i look at you… all i see is her and what you did… i— i just keep picturing you guys together and-"

"and we can fix that," jj pulls away and gets back on his feet to look at you. "i mean, it's gon' take time, but eventually… you— you can forget it, right?"

there was a hopeful look in his eyes, but you knew that wasn't enough to fix things.

you shake your head and sigh, the hope in his eyes immediately diminishing. "no, i don't think i can."

"but that— that would mean that this…" his voice cracks, his mind clearly in disarray as he motions a hand between you two. "no. this can't be over."

your watery eyes lock with his, which were now red from holding back tears. "then why is it?"

if you happen to also be a rafe girl, consider this part 2 & part 3.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

click here to be added to my tag list!!

[jgracie]

LOVE GROWS (WHERE MY ROSEMARY GOES) — PERCY + CHILD OF DEMETER

masterlist | rules

❝ Hiya,can i request if you have time,Percy dating a Demeter kid?Thank you💕 ❞ — anon

in which percy dates a child of demeter

pairing percy jackson x demeter!reader

warnings me projecting as a child of demeter LOL, one swear word

on the radio . . . love grows (where my rosemary goes) (edison lighthouse)

an never stop requesting demeter!reader guys (i live vicariously through her) also this features another travis cameo LOL him and percy are bffs in my head ALSO the watering can thing is inspired by stardew valley i cannot wait for the day i get to upgrade to sprinklers

Percy’s never been a morning person. However, he has been forced awake at ungodly times due to nightmares

This was one of those times. He could barely remember what the dream was about, all he knew was that it was bad enough for him to wake with a start, his body drenched in sweat as he tried to recollect himself

Looking over at the clock on his bedside table, Percy could barely make out the time: 5:35AM. Well, there was no point going back to sleep now. Even if he did, he’d probably just be visited by nightmares again

So, Percy slipped the nearest t-shirt on and left his cabin, unsure of where he was heading - maybe the beach to cool off? Who knows, he was in disarray. The worst dreams were always the ones you couldn’t remember, the fear of them possibly being important haunting your day

Suddenly, Percy smelt a comforting scent waft through the air. He’d never smelt anything like that before. It couldn’t be ambrosia or nectar - while they both had good scents, they weren’t half as strong as this one. What could it be?

He decided to follow his instinct and find where the smell was coming from. Which led him to cabin 4

Despite it being right across from his own, Percy never paid cabin 4 much attention. Not until now

He continued following the scent and ended up at the back of the cabin, where there was a huge garden filled with what Percy believed to be the most appetising fruits and vegetables he’s ever seen. To the side, there was a greenhouse, where he could see the silhouette of a person

Curious, Percy made his way over to the greenhouse. He’d never spoken to a Demeter kid before, but he’d heard of your nurturing nature and kind hearts in passing

“It’s okay, Cassie, you can go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise,” Percy heard a voice say, stopping in his tracks. Deciding to take a peek, he found himself facing an angel

You were rocking a young girl who seemed to be six years old at most back to sleep in your arms. Wherever you went, the flowers in the greenhouse bloomed brighter, gravitating towards you and wrapping their stems around your arms, almost as if they were vying for your attention

The girl’s face was tear-streaked, but she nodded, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You smiled and ran your fingers through her hair, praying to your mother that she wouldn’t have another nightmare

You hated when the younger kids got nightmares - they could barely understand the fact that one of their parents is a God, let alone comprehend the strange demigod nightmares

Then, you noticed him. When you locked eyes, Percy felt as if the last puzzle piece of his life was finally put in place. Was it too early to say you were made for him?

“Hello! Welcome to Flowers and Vines (shoutout to Stella for naming it!), how may I help you today?” You said, your cheery tone snapping Percy out of the trance you put him in. Walking inside (he’d been simply listening next to the door), Percy sheepishly rubbed his neck, hoping you didn’t think he was some weird stalker

Percy looked around, now fully being able to see everything your greenhouse had to offer. His mom would love this place

“Oh, I’m good, thanks… I didn’t know you guys had a flower shop here! That’s really cool…” Percy said, trailing off at the end once he realised he didn’t know your name. He was a little embarrassed, but luckily, you didn’t seem to mind

Giggling, you continued for him, “Y/N, my name’s Y/N. And Flowers and Vines is more than just a flower shop, we sell produce too! Mr D’s kids help us with the grapes.” As you told him all of this, you were going around with a pretty pink watering can and watering every single plant in the whole greenhouse. Surely, there must be a more efficient way to water them all?

That morning, Percy decided he would buy a flower from you. When you’d asked which one he wanted, he simply told you to surprise him

“These are some of my favourites,” you said while wrapping your flowers of choice - to Percy, they looked like every other pink, round flower out there, but he’d learn the difference for you. These were now special

Handing him the little bouquet, you continued, “Rhododendron - ‘I shall never look upon your like again’, that’s what they mean. I don’t see them around much anymore, which is why I planted them here!”

It was almost like you knew Percy would never look upon your like again. When he’d asked you how much they were for, you insisted on giving them to him on the house. After much arguing, Percy accepted, keeping them right next to his bed. Something about them made the nightmares a little better

After that day, Percy couldn’t stop thinking about you. Everything he saw around him reminded him of you - from the flowers in the forest to the smell of mangoes in the air as their season arrived

He’d see you occasionally, too, and would shyly wave whilst hoping you didn’t notice the way his face turned a bright red when you waved back

You thought Percy was really cute, too, and were a little disappointed when he didn’t show up a second time after your original rendezvous. You began taking on so many shifts you might as well have been working at Flowers and Vines full time. Your siblings (as well as Dionysus’ kids) teased you relentlessly for this, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to see him again

And then you did

Percy’s idea was one that was suggested by none other than Travis Stoll. He was simply catching up with the son of Hermes when he’d brought up the fact that everyone working at Flowers and Vines watered the plants using watering cans (something which had been really bothering Katie)

When Percy had asked why they did that, Travis explained that they used to have sprinklers but after the Ares cabin tinkered with them once (they were bitter over a game of Capture the Flag), causing the water to go all over the place and killing a lot of the flowers, the sprinklers were unusable and currently being fixed by the Hephaestus cabin

That’s when Percy came up with it. Since he was a son of Poseidon, he could spread water from a source as far as he wanted to. Therefore, he could help with your issue and have an excuse to talk to you

Immediately, Percy ran to the flower shop/fruit market he’d grown to love so dearly

“Hi! Is Y/N here?” He asked one of your siblings, breathless. They nodded and pointed behind them, smirking as they snuck knowing glances to your other siblings

There you were, in all your glory. You seemed to sparkle under the Sun, watering the flowers with your little pink pot. When the water ran out, you sighed. You really needed to invest in a bigger one

Just as you were about to go fill it, Percy proudly announced, “you won’t have to do that anymore!”

You couldn’t believe your ears. As you turned around, you fought the urge to hug the boy. Despite only speaking with him once, you really did miss Percy

Intrigued, you followed Percy to the fountain in the middle of the greenhouse. Before, it used to just be for decoration (since you had sprinklers), but now it came very handy for refilling your watering cans

Extending his arm towards the fountain, Percy willed droplets of water to hover in the air, then, with one motion, threw them all over the greenhouse, watering your plants perfectly

“Oh my Gods, Percy, this is amazing! Thank you so much!” You exclaimed, running over to him and giving him a peck on the cheek. It was a spontaneous decision mainly done because you were getting quite tired of manually watering all your plants

After that, Percy began working at Flowers and Vines as your temporary plant-waterer. You, your siblings and Dionysus’ kids would all cheer when he’d appear, and he’d play into it, making a big show out of getting the water out of the fountain and sprinkling it over the plants, winking at you as he did so

The plants seemed to flourish even more than usual, too. You told yourself it was probably because water from a son of Poseidon was more powerful than normal water (or something along those lines), but you knew the truth

As a child of Demeter, much like your mother, your emotions influenced nature around you. When you were sad, plants would wilt and wither, mimicking the winter Demeter creates whenever Persephone is in the Underworld

The opposite was true. Whenever you were happy, plants would blossom and bloom all around - and you were really happy when Percy was around. Which is why you needed to tell him before the Hephaestus cabin fixed your sprinklers

However, fear got the best of you every time you tried to get the words out of your mouth. Despite practising several times with your siblings (and even once with the Aphrodite cabin), whenever you tried telling Percy, you’d get shy and vines would grow out of your head, tangling with your hair and acting as a shield

Unfortunately for you, Percy couldn’t tell from that that you liked him, so you simply had to get over your fears and say it

Your confession happened on Percy’s last day as your plant waterer. That morning, Katie had pulled you to the side, telling you to hurry up your confession to Percy as she and Travis couldn’t delay the Hephaestus cabin any more (they were getting quite annoyed, having worked on the sprinklers for so long. What did those Ares kids do to them?)

So, you spent the whole day bracing yourself for Percy’s arrival. All you had to do was say it, get his response and move on with your life. It wasn’t that big of a deal!

After Percy watered the plants, everyone watched in silence, waiting for you to say something

“Hey… Percy, can we talk?” You asked, ignoring the hushed cheers of your siblings as you approached the boy. He nodded, smiling at you and letting you lead him to the back, where you kept all the extra supplies

Sitting on a stool, Percy looked up at you, just noticing your nervousness, “is everything okay?” He asked, concern laced in his voice

You nodded, taking a deep breath. You practically had this memorised. You just had to get the words out. You couldn’t get the words out

The vines grew from your head again and you wanted nothing more than to cocoon yourself in them. You’d faced terrifying monsters with a calm smile and eliminated them like you were pulling weeds out of your gardens, but you couldn’t tell a boy you liked him?

At this point, the vines were wrapping around the stool Percy was sat on, and he stood up, confused

Slowly, he made his way over to you and brushed the vines away from your face. As he looked into your wide eyes, he finally understood. Cupping your face with his hands, Percy placed a tender kiss on your lips

“I like you too, Y/N. Like, a lot”

Ok dating hcs 🥳

First of all I just wanna say PICNIC DATES!!! Sometimes you have them on the beach and it’s like you combined both your worlds <3

As a child of Demeter I can confidently say we know how to cook. Percy’s so in love with your cooking. He never thought any cooking could rival his mother’s until you came along

Somehow, you knew how to make meals that make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. If you asked him to taste ambrosia and one of your meals blindfolded and then choose one, he’d choose yours in a heartbeat

He’s also so obsessed with the fresh produce you bring from Flowers and Vines. I said this in my Percy x Persephone!Reader headcanons but I don’t think Percy’s much of a fruits/vegetables guy so the fact that you have him hooked on them says a lot

Swears he’s addicted. You think he’s just saying that to flatter you but he means it. If someone asked him if he had an addiction he’d look them dead in the eye and go, “yes, my partner’s bell peppers.”

He’s actually right though! Demeter + Dionysus kid powers make the produce taste a little fresher and last for way longer

Percy also decides to learn the language of flowers. He borrows a book about it from the Athena cabin and makes little notes and everything

Once, you came to his cabin and found the book full of scrawled annotations and sticky notes in it and you had to fight the urge to bawl your eyes out because he’s just so adorable

Will literally buy you flowers from your own flower shop though LMAO he doesn’t even try to do the transaction with anyone else. He’ll buy them and you’ll give them to him and he’ll be like “oh thanks I’m gonna go give this to the light of my life now” and he just hands them back to you

Percy’s also def the type of guy to keep one with him so he can get you new ones as soon as they start to wilt. Except his timing is always off because flowers tend to last a little longer when they’re around you

Lowkey still works at Flowers and Vines except he just follows you around and has no salary (he says his salary are kisses from you but knows he’d get them regardless LOL)

Brings Sally and Paul to Flowers and Vines and they’re immediately hooked because flowers in the mortal world aren’t half as beautiful as these hello??

Also, as a child of Demeter, you are naturally very motherly and caring. He loves seeing you interact with Estelle so much!!!

His half-sister warmed up to you extremely quickly and now refuses to be babysat by anyone who isn’t you. Like it can’t even be Percy alone you have to be there!!

Percy ALSO loves it when you dote on him. This leads to him being a little dramatic at times

Looking up, you saw a pouty Percy make his way over to you, his brows furrowed as he looked down at his finger

“Y/N! You won’t believe what happened!” He said. The first couple times he pulled this stunt, he’d scared you shitless, but you now knew all about your boyfriend’s antics and simply gave him a knowing smile

Feigning worry, you asked, “oh no, what is it?” Percy revealed his finger to you, which had a barely noticeable cut at the tip of it

“I was talking to Clarisse when all of a sudden she swung at me!” He told you, looking over to the side. In reality, he’d asked Clarisse to cut him, knowing only a child of Ares could have such precision with a weapon

Sporting a pout of your own, you took Percy’s finger and peppered it with kisses, “I’ll speak to Clarisse, don’t worry.” You said

“Uhh.. Y/N.. she also punched me in the lips… My lips really hurt.”

Let’s just say you didn’t get much work done that day (SAFE FOR WORK!)

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

You Didn't Save me (I begged You Not To)

Lex Luthor is not a good man.

He is a literal supervillain, he's also more than aware of the consent issues of what he did when he created Connor.

Yet he is surprised by how furious Superman is making him.

Not that he isn't always angry with Superman but before it wasn't quite so personal.

It was a bigger issue what Superman stood for what he was but right now he's not picking the fight with Superman but with Clark Kent.

He has spent as much time as possible studying everything about kryptonian's from their weakness to their language.

Essentially, Superman should keep better track of his belongings.

Kon-El means abomination.

Lionel Luthor was never a kind man he knows exactly why he is who he is today. He still has slight scars from his fathers belt. Cruel words that years after his father's death, will still haunt his memories.

When he was younger he was friends with Bruce Wayne before being a Villain was his priority.

He remembers hiding at Wayne Manor a feeling of safety he had never felt before.

He's also more than aware that his old friend is running around as a Bat.

Bruce Wayne even as a child always stood for hope was always ready to change the world to stand for something better.

That's is why years later Lex Luthor is knocking on a door that he's not hundred percent sure he won't be turned away from.

Yet Kon-El means abomination.

"Mr. Luthor I was unaware Master Bruce was expecting you?"

Alfred looks older than Lex remembers for some reason the man always seemed above aging untouchable even by time.

"He's not, I need to speak with him please it's urgent."

He is a Luthor begging is below him, but right now he feels fourteen again, with the belief that the people within Wayne Manor can fix anything.

"Of course. Master Bruce is in his study, I will lead you please follow me Mr. Luthor."

He doesn't bring up how he knows the way. That he once ran chasing after Bruce hiding in that very study. That they had broken Vase playing like little boys did. He doesn't bring up crying, terrified that Alfred had promised him no harm should come to him in these halls.

He doesn't correct how he used to be Master Lex. He lost that privilege long ago.

It's been a very long time since he has laid eyes on Bruce Wayne he's seen the tabloids, even a passing glance at a gala but for some reason he didn't picture slight gray hair, a dark black suit, he imagined a Gotham Academy Uniform or a Nirvana Shirt that Lex always wanted to steel but never quite worked up the courage.

He doesn't even hear Alfred's depart he can't tear his eyes away from Bruce.

His throat is dry like all the moisture has somehow left since he walked through the doors.

He is Lex Luthor but right now he doesn't remember what that means.

"Kon-El means abomination did you know that?"

His voice weak. Bruce's face doesn't change, blank.

" I am not my Father. I don't know what to do but I refuse for my child to think he isn't loved by at least one of his parents."

He breathes.

"All those year ago, you told me that you would help that all I had to do was ask, I was an idiot, it's too late for me but not for him."

Bruce's voice startles him he hasn't realized how deep in his own mind he had sank.

"All you had to do was ask."

Bruce's face painted in the same smirk as if they were eighteen again smoking on the manors roof.

Lex Luthor is not a good person, but for Connor Luthor he will try he will rebuild bridges, bend his pride he will beg on his knees.

He never unstood how a parent should be or what it really meant to wake up everyday and have your whole being dedicated to loving and protecting something.

As he watches the rise and fall of his child's chest wrapped in the arms of the third Robin safe in his penthouse behind security straight from Wayne Entirpries and he doesn't regret it.

He know's he would do it all over again and when next Sunday comes and he gets a invite to brunch that he never throught he would see again he knows it was all for the better.

[fawnprincessblog]

𝒜𝓃𝓰𝓮𝓁'𝓈 𝒹𝓮𝓋𝓮𝓁𝓸𝓅𝓂𝓮𝓃𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓇𝓎.

(part 1: 'the praise and some coffee') type: slow burn, fluff (tom kaulitz 2015 × fem reader)

includes : teacher × student, childish annoying immature school girl who's name is Angel (you), teacher tom, wannabe teacher's pet, age gap. tom is 25, angel is 17. plot : angel, a young, childish and innocent honour student was shunned by her schoolmates due to her being a teacher's pet, but none of that mattered whenever she ran into her favorite teacher, Tom, that she so deeply admired, who she swears on her life she will serve until the day she dies. despite being favourited by many other teachers, tom does not favour her due to her clingy behaviour. she may be smart but her hormones play a huge part in her schooling life as well.

bambi's note! : hello sweeties :3 i don't really wanna explain much but i think you guys will be sick of hearing the same lame excuse to why i disappear quite frequently. writer block makes me want to suicide sometimes, i've been trying my hardest to write, this took me months to finally put tgt. crazy that it's short too. i have drafts from last year in my docs. im also an art student, so it makes it hard to tackle both things rn. anyway, have fun reading part one of 'Angel's development diary ' :3

“Everyone now turn to page 74,” Tom instructs, his voice sharp and echoing across the classroom. The whole room was silent, only he could be heard. Nobody would disrespect a man like him, for he was rather strict, and serious, his only intention being to get his point across and educate his students. That’s what the majority saw in him. 

Well, except for one person. That was Angel. The honour student of her class.

Angel saw what other people did not care about. Despite being the very sophisticated and refined teacher everyone knew, to her he was so much more. Tom was a young, 25 year-old Maths teacher. She admired that strong body structure of his, and the way his face features all fit together. The way his hair was always worn in a messy bun, a few strands poking out the front, had just added to his good looks. He wasn’t over-dressed, like those wannabe scientists-looking teachers in her physics classes; he was rather usually seen in t-shirts. On special occasions, she got to see him in a suit. 

He wasn’t the kind to play around. He expected all his students to pass his class with flying colours, not one left behind. In fact, all teachers wished the same. In such a popular and very high-class school, of course every single student had to be well-behaved and supremely knowledgeable.

The school Angel went to was one with a high standard of academic and extracurricular achievements. It has a strong emphasis on academics and often has a highly selective acceptance rate, which makes it difficult to get in. She was quite lucky. The campus has beautiful architecture, state-of-the-art facilities, and ample resources for students' academic and personal development. The faculty members are very well-educated and experienced in their respective fields, and the school often has a high student-teacher ratio. The students are often from wealthy families with a strong academic focus, and the school often boasts a high graduation rate. 

Coming from such a school that was great and had put Angel’s reputation in great hands meant no mistakes were to be made at all. She had to maintain her good grades. And one thing is for sure: she couldn’t possibly keep having dirty thoughts about her teacher. 

“Hey, you,” Tom called out, snapping his fingers twice. “Angel?” 

She snapped out of her trance almost immediately, a little startled by his tone. “Oh—yes?” she responds, heat evidently rising in her cheeks the moment he had called out her name. Oh, when he said her name, it only served to heighten her arousal. His voice was so strong and firm, it made her squirm in her seat like a damn worm. All those dirty thoughts wouldn’t go away. 

“Are you gonna pay attention? Or is daydreaming the only thing you like to do?” Tom asked, folding his muscular arms across his chest, staring right into her soul. He had this scary glare that usually put most students in fear, but to her, it was attractive. His dominant demeanour when teaching a lesson made her imagine all these horrendous things, like how he was in bed. 

“N-No—! Um, I was listening,” Angel responds, clearing her throat. She shifted a little in her seat, tugging at the hem of her red plaid skirt. She was wet. So uncomfortably wet and aroused, she would’ve probably left a stain on the chair if she had gotten up.

“I hope so,” Tom grunted, turning back to the chalkboard to continue writing those endless amounts of Math sums. It was overwhelming to look at; all of the numbers bunched together, the dusty residue of the chalk making it even worse. It was a lot to take in, however that was just how it was. 

His teaching continued, his voice loud and clear. Angel diligently started writing down her notes, trying to keep up with his pace. Being such a good student, she had become fond of his teachings, and she was expected to have one of the highest marks among the rest, even if everyone else was already good. 

An honour student. That’s what she was. Supposedly, she was the teacher’s pet. 

She did well, joined every possible club and involved herself in every school event, making sure she was obtaining high merit points that boosted her reputation in her school. Angel was simply a good little girl that most teachers did like, but the other students, and for some reason, Tom, did not like her. They found her exasperating. 

The bell rings. Class is over, and Tom is preparing a stack of worksheets to hand out to the class on the way out. “Alright class, tomorrow I wanna see all your worksheets full of numbers. All correct and no mistakes. I believe I’ve taught you all enough on this topic, so I expect perfect answers,” he announces. “You can pack up and leave now.” 

“Sir!” Angel calls out, rising from her seat abruptly, making everyone else pause from their packing up. Majority rolled their eyes. “You forgot to take attendance. Usually you take attendance every morning before class but since you forgot the checklist you said you would—”

“Right, right, okay,” Tom interrupts, an exasperated sigh followed right after. Clearly, he was pissed. Angel was quite aware that he disliked her try-hard behaviour, in fact, she was aware everyone did. Of course as an honour student she was made to please the teachers with good grades and behaviour, but the other students knew clearly she acted the most clingy around Tom. She saw past his strict demeanour and she acted like a child around him. Always trying to point out the simplest things, always reminding him about his meetings, always trying to get him his coffee, always trying to help him out at any damn chance she got— Angel was desperate and needy for his love. She was willing to make him love her. She wanted to be his favourite student. 

He notwithstanding, saw her as a confounded girl who was beating a dead horse. A try-hard, annoying, clingy little bitch that stuck to him like a damn tick. It irritated him when she acted like his little servant. 

But Angel liked it. She didn’t care. 

“Since you wanna help so much, get the checklist for me,” Tom tells her rather bluntly, clicking a pen in his hand as he speaks. Angel’s ears perk up at his request. “What? Really?” she asks, eyes full of joy. That annoying excited voice—it made his ears bleed.

“Go get it, it's in my office,” Tom says. “And hurry. Your classmates wanna leave class.” 

“Consider it done, sir!” she enthused, immediately dashing towards the door and running straight to his office. Like a little slave, she did everything for him.

Recess time. One of the times where Angel would bother her favourite teacher the most. Even if she was trying to be helpful, she usually came off as a nuisance. He was an earnest and disciplined man, always keeping up with his set schedule. During break he’d grab coffee in the teacher’s lounge, discuss some things with his colleagues, or he’d take the coffee straight to his office so he can finish up paperwork. However he wasn’t the only one who kept to his schedule…

“Hi sir,” she greeted excitedly, grinning like an idiot. She blocked him, not allowing him to continue walking through the school hallway, which was empty since everyone else was at the cafeteria. “Where will you be taking yourself to today? Do you need help with anything?

He lets out a breath, trying his hardest to not let her irritate him right now. Angel being around him was something he couldn’t possibly avoid. It was an everyday thing now. “No,” he said simply. He then looked around. “Do I look like I need help?” His tone was dripping with sarcasm. Angel could tell, but she couldn’t be bothered. 

“You may not be holding anything that I could help you carry, but there’s other things I can help with,” Angel says. “Like, your coffee. Do you want me to get your coffee?” She was just so damn innocent  acting like a maid trying to please him with every chance she got. She really acted like life was all unicorns and rainbows, like she had not a single issue in the world.

“For the last time, I can get it myself. You’ve been asking this everyday now,” Tom sighs. “Shouldn’t you be eating? It’s recess. Go eat.”

“I already have,” Angel replies with that annoying giggle right after, making him clench his jaw. She was insufferable. That giggle was ingrained into his mind. He could recognise it from a mile away. 

“Okay, good. Now if you don’t mind, you can just mov—”

“One sachet of the coffee mix, two teaspoons of sugar and some milk to top it off,” she interrupted, making him raise an eyebrow. “You use the blue mug. Always the blue mug,” she added.

“You know my coffee?” he asked, a little disturbed by her knowledge on how he liked his coffee. His eyes narrowed to slits, peering at her.

“Yep,” she replies, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. To him, she was a complete stalker at this point. “You have about 12 minutes to go to the teacher’s lounge and get your coffee, and return back to your office to finish marking off the recent test you gave us before you have to rush to the meeting you have with Mr.Harrison about the new changes we’re making to the school’s mural art.” 

“What?” he said, almost wanting to laugh in disbelief. That was way too many words for him to comprehend. “You know my schedule?” 

“Well I memorised it,” she shrugged. “Tuesday’s and Fridays you stay in your office during break. All the other days you’re eating at the teacher’s lounge.

What the hell, he thought, looking at her with the most perplexed look he’s ever plastered onto his perfect face. “What are you doing, stalking me? My schedule is printed on paper and left in the drawer of my desk—”

“It’s also printed in my mind,” she joked, pointing a finger to her temple. 

He looks at her, bewildered. Completely uneasy. He didn’t like this. He knew she always had this weird thing for him, but he didn’t think she was this peculiar, knowing his schedule and all. Tom was taken aback by her behaviour, but he remained unruffled for now. It wasn’t too surprising, since she had been doing this for a while; asking him if she could get his coffee, but he had always declined. In the past, she had been randomly reminding him about his meetings, or anything he planned to do on that day, which he also found annoying, but today she really surprised him, wording out his entire plan for today.  

He cleared his throat. “Well, I know my own schedule, I don’t need you to tell me,” he says.

“I know. You’re very smart. But, I figured you’d like help,” she says, grinning. 

He had to get rid of her. This damn pest of a student. “I don’t. Not right now. So, If you don’t mind, Angel, please move aside so I can go.” He tries to walk past her, but she stubbornly blocks him again. 

“C’mon, I’m sure you need someone to get your coffee,” Angel insisted, looking at him with those set of pathetic eyes, ones that he insanely hated to look at. She was small, pretty, and sweet, but she was tiring. He didn’t like her. “Angel…” he sighed, wanting to snap at her, but he held back; he may be strict, but there was no reason to be shouting at a student who just wanted to help so badly, right? “...Fine. Get my coffee, bring it to my office. Now.” he finally relented, looking down at her rather annoyed that he had forced himself to give in. Oh, she really had her ways. 

“Yes, sir!” Angel exclaims, smiling widely, and she dashed off, disappearing immediately. Tom folded his arms, watching the pesky little girl run off to get his coffee like a slave. She obeyed him so much, wanting to do anything just for his attention. He chuckled a little, he couldn’t help himself.

“One coffee,” she says, placing the blue ceramic mug onto his desk slowly, as if she were a waitress. Tom had been busy on his computer, going over some emails while waiting. She had returned rather quickly. Tom flashed her a faint smile, and he took the cup, taking a small sip. She had got it right. It tasted exactly like how he wanted. 

Wait for the praise, wait for the praise, Angel thought in her mind, eagerly looking at him for a positive reaction with big, innocent eyes. 

“It’s exactly how I like it, Angel,” Tom finally says, looking up at her. He noticed her small hands fidgeting with the hem of her school skirt. “Good job,” he finally praised, his voice low and soothing. 

Angel’s cheeks immediately flushed pink. Everytime he gave her praise, her arousal hit her like a brick. She couldn’t contain herself. She could already feel herself soaking her panties. “N-No problem, sir…” Angel says, her lips slowly curling into a nervous grin. She squeezed her thighs together a little, trying to contain herself. 

“You may go now,” he says. 

“Y-Yes,” she nods, bowing a little as a sign of respect. She then left.

Tom did not know the effect he had on this girl. If only he could ease that ache.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hello!!

Love your writing!!

I seen your post for prompts..

If possibly can you do Eddie x slightly thicker best friend...

Maybe sees her upset with her body or something

The numbers that popped into my mind thinking of this was any of the following ahaha

10,18,44, 47-50 😅😅

Thanks so much, lovely! I love this request!

cw: MDNI 18+ smut (p in v), mention of fatphobia

You stood in the dressing room of a store that you didn’t want to go into wearing a dress that no one was ever going to see you in. It was short and black and clung to your body in a way that didn’t feel right. You were so used to covering up your body in baggy clothing that it felt weird seeing every curve. You were always covering it up so you couldn’t even remember what it had looked like.

You had always hated shopping, never being able to find anything in your size and even if you had, it was always somehow too small. It always ended with you crying while you looked at your body in the mirror so you just ended up buying your clothes online to avoid the embarrassment.

Eddie had chosen the tiny number for you, assuring you that you would look hot, but also made sure that you knew that you didn’t have to if you were uncomfortable. You tried to hype yourself up, but all you could hear was the comments that your mother always made.

Is that really what you’re wearing?

You could stand to lose a few pounds.

Are you sure you want to eat that?

People had always made fun of your weight and as much you didn’t want to believe them, how could you not have? It seemed like no matter what you did to feel good in your skin, you couldn’t seem to shake all of the fatphobia you had experienced.

Eddie had been the only one who had made you feel even slightly better about yourself. He always made sure you felt good, whether it was telling you how nice you looked in your clothes, especially when you were wearing something that clung to your body or giving one of your thighs a loving squeeze when you would sit next to him.

He knew that his assuring words and gentle touches weren’t a cure since the wounds were so deep, but he had hoped you knew that he was telling the truth. If anything, your body was just more that he could love. If ever got the balls to make a move.

There was a knock on the door and you panicked, knowing that Eddie was on the other side. You grabbed your jacket from the hook and were quick to throw it on, zipping it up so the dress was completely covered.

“Who is it?” You asked, feeling your heart hammering in your chest.

“It’s Eddie. Can I come in?” You opened the door and he slipped inside, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as his eyes moved to your jacket.

“You okay?” He asked, just knowing that something was up with you. He was always able to read you like a book.

“I’m good,” you nodded, crossing your arms over your chest so you could hide your body even more. “It’s just tight.”

“Oh, do you need to size up?” For once, that hadn’t been your problem. The dress had fit like a glove but you just didn’t have the confidence to wear it. It would end up back on the rack with all the other clothes you couldn’t get yourself to wear.

“It’s not that, it’s tight. You can see the outline of my body. I mean, it leaves nothing up to the imagination.”

“Well now I have to see it.” You slowly unzipped the jacket and shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor. Eddie’s jaw dropped as his eyes scanned over your body.

He thought you looked fucking hot and couldn’t help but imagine what it would have been like to press his lips to yours while the dress fell to the floor. He had been fantasizing about kissing you for so long.

“You look fucking amazing.” His eyes were filled with something that you couldn’t quite make out and were unsure of what it meant.

“I do?” Your eyebrows furrowed and Eddie just kept staring at the dress, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes darkening.

“Absolutely,” he nodded enthusiastically. “You have to get it.” You wanted to, but you were unsure if you could actually go through with it.

“You mean it?” You gave him a small smile and he just nodded again.

“You know I’d never lie to you, sweetheart.” That much was true. Eddie would have never lied to you and you knew that. He was always honest even if the words weren’t what you wanted to hear.

“I’m just afraid of what people will think.” His eyebrows knit together at that. It hurt him hearing that coming from you. He had been trying to work with you on your confidence and you were slowly making progress.

“The only thing that matters is what you think,” he rested his hands on your shoulders. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to get it.” The more you thought about his words, the more you wanted to make the purchase. You liked the way he was looking at you when you wore it.

“So you really think I look good?” He really did. So much so that he wanted to kiss you. He wanted to press his lips to your neck, hearing pretty moans escape your mouth.

“I mean, fucking hot would be my preferred choice of words.” His eyes got even more dark, filled with lust. He was trying to not think about how hard he was.

“Eddie-” You were caught off guard by how forward he was being. If he had it his way, he would have had his way with you right then and there, but he didn’t exactly think that a dressing room was a place to do it.

“If you don’t buy it,” he stepped forward, resting his hands on your hips. “I will.” He reached up and hooked his finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him. His lips brushed yours briefly before he pulled away.

“Why?” You could hardly get the words out, your brain short circuiting from the different kind of attention you were getting from him. And you were eating it up. You wanted more.

“Because as much as I’d like to see you in it,” he paused, leaning over so his lips were right by your ear. “I’d love even more to see you out of it.” Your face went hot at his words. You had never had anyone say those kinds of things to you, let alone even wanted to actually have sex with you.

As soon as the words left his mouth, you shooed him out of the dressing room and he reluctantly went. You changed back into the outfit you had come in. You then draped the dress over your arm and exited the dressing room, making your way to the counter.

You purchased the dress and you and Eddie exited the store, heading to his van. He opened the passenger door for you, helping you up into the seat before closing the door and heading to the driver’s side.

He started up the van and cranked up the metal tape that he had put in before picking you up. He was driving faster than normal, almost flooring it as he drove and you were just grateful that you had been on an empty backroad as opposed to the busy highway.

You both soon pulled up to his trailer, the two of you sat in silence and you noticed that he wasn’t making any move to exit the van. You turned to each other at the same time. You looked at him in confusion as to why he wasn’t moving and he looked at you with lust filled eyes again.

He leaned closer to you, your faces only centimeters apart. You looked up at him from underneath your eyelashes and he gave you a smile in return. He reached up and moved some hair away from your face before resting his hand on your cheek.

“Can I try something?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You bit down on your lip and nodded, knowing exactly what he was getting at.

“Yes,” you responded and he grinned, his smile reaching his warm brown eyes.

He leaned forward slowly, gently capturing your top lip between his two. Your lips moved together as one as your hands moved to his arms and his free hand rested on your thigh, the space where it usually made a home.

He pulled away before you were ready and smiled at you, resting his forehead against yours. The pad of his thumb rubbed gently along your cheek as your eyes stared into his warm brown ones.

“Eddie, I’m not wearing the dress anymore,” you told him, turning away to stare at the dashboard. He hooked his finger under your chin once more, making you look at him.

“Sweetheart, this has nothing to do with the dress.” He licked his lips. “Can’t you see how badly I want you?” His eyes bored into yours and even though you knew there was truth to his words, you couldn’t quite believe him.

“You want me?” Your eyes widened at that. You looked up at him, tears welling up in your eyes and he could have sworn he heard his heart break at your reaction to his confession.

“Honey, I’ve wanted you since the day I met you.” You had no idea. All the signs were there and you had no fucking clue. He had been so obvious and you had only just now connected the dots.

“You have?” You honestly weren’t sure how to react. No one had ever wanted you, or at least, they hadn’t been so up front about it like Eddie had.

And you wanted him too. He was your best friend and you couldn’t have imagined being with anyone else. He was the one who was always there for you. He had been there for you every step of the way. He had loved you for exactly who you were and you loved him the exact same way.

“I have,” he nodded, his hand moving into your hair. “So badly.” The words came out almost like a whimper.

“I want you too,” you responded, your words running together. He pressed his lips to yours once more, this one more desperate than the first one. His hand wound its way further into your hair, pressing into your scalp. Your hands grasped at his shirt, balling it in your fists as your tongue swiped along his bottom lip.

“A bit eager, are we?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Shut up,” you commanded before diving back in. Your tongue moved back to his lip and he opened up, letting you in. Your tongues swirled together, his hand trailing up your skirt. His other one grabbed a fistful of your hair, giving it a yank and you let out a whimper at the feeling.

“Wanna make that sound again, sweetheart?” He asked, needing to hear it one more time.

“More,” was all you were able to respond and he gave your hair another yank, a little harder this time. A full on moan escaped from your lips and he was desperate to hear more from you. He needed to hear you scream for him.

He pulled away from you, looking into your eyes. He could see that you wanted more, but he felt the need to ask before he continued. He wanted to make absolutely sure that you wanted it as much as he did. That he had your full permission.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, his hand stroking your hair gently.

“Of course I do, Eds,” you nodded.

“Don’t want to move things to the back?” He nodded his head in that direction.

“Please,” you begged. He let go of you completely and you already missed his touch.

“Ladies first,” he gestured to the back of the van with his hands. You slowly got onto your knees in the passenger seat before throwing your leg in between the two seats. You made it into the back safely and Eddie wasn’t that far behind you. The blanket beneath you had been meant for a picnic for the two of you, definitely not for you to have sex.

You moved so close that your knees were touching and he reached for your hands, looking into your eyes. They were soft and warm, the look that had been reserved for you and you alone.

“I know this is your first time so before we do this, I want you to know that you can back out at any time and I won’t be mad,” he brought your hands up to his mouth and brushed them with his lips.

“I’ll be there with you every step of the way, alright? So feel free to do whatever feels natural. Let me know what makes you feel good, what you like.” He pressed a kiss to each hand before interlacing your fingers.

“Okay,” you replied, feeling your heart race in your chest as you realized what you were about to do. You were about to have sex with your best friend. You were about to have sex with Eddie.

“Do you want to move to my lap to get more comfortable?” He asked, rubbing your knuckles with the pads of his thumbs. You looked at him, unsure, your eyebrows furrowing.

“Aren’t I going to crush you?” You knew that you were bigger than him so you didn’t think it was wrong to ask.

“Crush me?” Eddie let out a chuckle. He actually kind of liked the sound of that. “No, honey. You’ll be just fine. Now c’mere.” He patted his lap and you hesitantly moved closer to him. You lowered yourself onto his lap so you were straddling his waist and his hands rested on your thighs, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

“Are you ready?” He asked, gauging your face for any last minute hesitance. Your eyes were lit up with excitement and he could tell that you were just as eager as he was.

“Yes,” you nodded. “I’m ready.”

“I’m just going to kiss you for now, okay? I’m warming you up.” He wanted this to be an enjoyable experience for you and wanted to take his time to make you feel good.

“Okay.” His hands let go of your thighs, moving up to your hips. He pecked your lips a few times before covering them with his once more and they moved in sync while your arms wrapped around his neck. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip and you opened your mouth and he slipped it inside letting it move with your own as his arms wrapped around your waist tightly.

His hands slowly started to trail down your waist and up your shirt, his palms laying flat against your lower back. They were cool and rough, but you liked the feeling, wondering if he was going to leave scratch marks.

“Can I take this off?” He asked, moving his hands to fiddle with your bottom hem.

“Yes,” you nodded eagerly and he slowly pulled it over your head before tossing it to the side. He then attached his lips to yours once more, taking no time to stick his tongue back into your mouth.

His hands were then on your back again, slowly moving them to your bra. His lips pressed kissed to your cheek all the way down to your neck, stopping at the spot below your ear. He sucked lightly on the skin before grazing it with his teeth.

“Oh,” you let out a moan and he loved hearing the sound come from your lips.

“That was a beautiful sound, honey, wanna make it again?”

“Yes,” you whined and his teeth grazed your neck once more, harder this time and you let out a louder moan.

“Oh, Eddie.” He loved hearing his name come out of your mouth in that way. It sounded so filthy and hot and he needed more of it.

“That’s right, honey, say my name.” He diffused the sting with a swipe of his tongue and the sensation caused you to let out a whimper.

“Eddie,” you whined. “Need you.”

“I know,” he gave your lips a gentle kiss. “We’re almost there.” His lips moved back up to yours and captured them in a bruising kiss while he moved his hands up to your bra. “Gonna lay you down, okay? Can I remove this?”

“Yes.” Your eyes were lustful and he loved seeing the look on you. So different from your usual innocent self. He removed his own shirt before he unhooked your bra and threw it to the side then laid you down onto the blanket. His eyes widened as he stared at your naked upper half in awe. His lips parted as he took in all of you; your curves, your breasts, your stretch marks. He always knew you were stunning, but seeing you like this, he was convinced that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

You had never been naked like this in front of anyone and you hadn’t really been thinking about how it made you feel as Eddie looked down at you. You could see that he was doing nothing but admiring your body, but you just felt so vulnerable.

“Fuck,” he said, the word falling from his lips before he realized what he had said. You quickly covered yourself with part of the blanket, making sure to pull it over your face so he couldn’t see you.

“Hey, don’t go shy on me,” he said gently, trying to calm you down. “You look so pretty like this.”

You pulled the blanket back down slowly so he could at least see your face again. His face was nothing but loving and you could tell he was telling the truth. He thought your naked body was pretty.

“Really?” Your cheeks burned at his compliment and all he could do was chuckle at how adorable you were. Eddie never said anything he didn’t believe.

“Of course, baby,” he assured you. “I’m going to fucking worship you.” His voice was deeper as he said the last sentence, more raspy and your pussy was getting even more wet.

“Worship me?” Your lips parted as you gingerly removed the blanket, laying back down on it. He slowly lowered himself down onto you, gently pressing his lips to yours.

“Worship,” he gave your lips a peck. “You,” he captured your top lip between his two in a brief kiss before moving his lips down your neck in open mouthed kisses. They made their way to your breast and he was quick to swipe his tongue along your nipple before he pulled it between his teeth, giving it a tug.

“Oh,” you let out a moan, louder this time and he took that as an invitation to do it again, but harder. Your moan was even louder, and your hands moved to his back, giving it a hard scratch with your nails. He let out a whimper before moving to your other nipple, giving it the same treatment.

“Oh, Eddie,” you moaned again and he gave one last tug, the hardest he could without actually hurting you and you let out the loudest moan yet. “God, Eddie, please.” Your nails scratched down his back again and he let out his own moan. It was soft but raspy and it sounded so hot.

He moved his kisses down your stomach and he stopped once he got to your skirt. He looked up at you in approval and you looked down at him, your eyes darkening as you thought about what he was going to do.

“Remove them,” you commanded and he kind of liked that you were bossing him around.

“Yes, ma’am.” He slid the skirt down your legs and tossed it behind him and went for your underwear, removing those as well. He looked down at your sopping wet pussy, eating up the fact that it was all because of him.

“Well, look at you, princess,” he looked up at you with a devilish grin. “Didn’t know I could get anyone that wet,” he winked.

“Eddie,” you let out another whine.

“What, baby?” He said the words so innocently, as if he had no idea what he was doing. He loved the idea of making you wait a little longer.

“Need your cock.” You were getting desperate and hated how needy you were starting to sound.

“I know, sweetheart. Just give me a second.” He hurried to his glove box and grabbed a condom before coming back to you. He quickly pulled off his pants, deciding that he had made you wait long enough and tossed them to the side. He then removed his underwear just as quickly, revealing all of himself to you.

You stared down at his cock, realizing that you had never seen one in person. It was bigger than you had imagined, better. He rolled the condom onto his dick and grabbed hold of your hips before lining himself up with your cunt.

He slowly thrusted into you, wanting to be as gentle as possible since it had been your first time. You let out a moan at the sensation, and Eddie leaned over you, that devilish grin making a reappearance.

“You look so pretty under me,” he said as he continued to thrust, picking up the pace. “Prettiest partner I’ve ever had.”

“You say that to all your partners.”

“I don’t because none of them have ever been as pretty as you.” Your cheeks turned even more pink at his compliment. He always knew exactly what to say to make you blush.

“Trying to get into my pants, Munson?”

“Afraid I’m already in them, sweetheart.” He continued to thrust and as much as you were enjoying it, you didn’t think he was being rough enough. You needed more.

“Very funny. Now do it harder,” you commanded.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He didn’t want to risk hurting you during your first time.

“You won’t. Just do it.” He obeyed and pounded into you, causing you to let out what almost sounded like a scream. His dick hardened even more at the sound.

“Oh,” he chucked. “I like the sound of that. Wanna make it again?”

“I will if you go faster,” you promised.

“As you wish.” He pounded into you once more, but faster and you made the exact same sound, only louder. He continued and you let out moan after moan as he went to town.

You grabbed onto him, burying your face into his neck as he continued to pound into you. Your hands went to his back and you scratched it up even more at his actions and he let out his own moans, throwing his head back as he did so.

“Trying to ruin my back, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you fluttered your eyelashes in innocence.

“Good,” he pressed his lips to yours in a filthy kiss, his tongue taking no time to swirl around yours. “Got one more in you, honey?”

“Yes, Eds.” He pounded into you one more time and you let out one final moan before he pulled out. He discarded the condom and grabbed some napkins from the glove compartment before helping you clean yourself up.

Once you had finished, he pulled the blanket back to reveal another one under it. You both slipped between the two of them and he was quick to pull you to him, bare skin against bare skin. One of his hands moved up to brush some sweaty hair away from your forehead before stroking the back of your head. His other hand rested on your waist while yours went to his chest.

“You did so great, baby girl,” he gave you a sweet smile. “Took me so well.”

“Well, I think you’re just good at it,” you batted your eyelashes. “It definitely lived up to the hype.”

“So you’ve thought about it?” He teased with a wink.

“Oh, don’t pretend you haven’t,” you winked back and he just gave your hip a little pinch, causing you to let out a squeal.

“I definitely have,” he responded, pressing his lips to yours. “And it was well worth the wait.” He pulled you into one more kiss and you were quick to return it, knowing that there would definitely be more where that came from.

[lawbreaker13]

I need to ask this. What is your problem? I’ve seen millions of Jewish ppl including myself call this stuff out genuinely so don’t start with the tokenism bs. Seriously why are you acting like Israel isn’t trying to kill as many Palestinians as possible. Not to mention they already did that with Palestinian Jews as well so the issue isn’t antisemitism at all. What is the actual problem pls tell me rn. And don’t mention h&mas either bc if I do remember, there were bombings before 2000 and ppl have been dying before that.

I am SO confused by this ask.

Palestinian Jews don’t exist. Jews are not allowed in Palestinian territories. Israelis are not allowed in Gaza. I have NO idea what you’re talking about.

Israel sends out dud bombs and makes calls before firing at civilian-heavy spaces that are sheltering bombs and missiles. That is UNHEARD OF in wars, ESPECIALLY if the intent is to “kill as many Palestinians as possible.”

There are photos and videos of the IDF clearing way for Palestinians to evacuate Gaza at the beginning of this war. That is not the act of people with the intent to “kill as many Palestinians as possible.”

When Israel was attacked on October 7th, when people were murdered in cold blood, raped, beheaded, and set on fire for merely existing, on a Jewish holiday, in their homes and at music festivals, they did not fire back immediately. If you recall, they gave Gazans a 24-hour warning to leave. People cried out, “That’s not enough time!” And you know what? They waited. Before firing back against a broken ceasefire and an attempted genocide of THEIR PEOPLE, Israel issued a public warning and waited 48 hours before firing back ONCE. THAT is NOT the act of people with the intent to “kill as many Palestinians as possible.”

The truth of the matter is that we know how much foreign aid Israel receives. Israel had the ability to construct The Iron Dome. They have all the resources they need in terms of a military. If they WANTED to “kill as many Palestinians as possible,” they could. They could blow it all up tomorrow.

NOBODY WANTS THAT.

We don’t WANT Palestinians to die. We don’t WANT civilians killed. We don’t WANT hospitals destroyed. WE DO NOT WANT TO FIGHT.

If the conflict in the Middle East was easy to fix, it wouldn’t be a problem. It wouldn’t have been the butt of every joke for decades. There would be no conflict.

Jews and Muslims are peaceful people. We understand each other so well. We do not want to fight. And Gazans know that. And Israelis know that. Speak to people there. Go there. And speak to them. Not through social media. Go and speak to them. I don’t mean “put yourself in a war zone.” This isn’t a threat. I mean, go and speak to them yourself, don’t allow the algorithm and filters to make the decision for you. Eliminate the possibility of being catfished and misled. Talk to them yourself. They don’t want to fight. None of them want to fight. I promise you.

What’s my problem?

My problem is that people keep making my posts about antisemitism and double standards about something they’re not about, therefore enforcing the very point I’m trying to make. My problem is that people keep sending me threats and critiques on anon instead of saying things to my face. My problem is that when my friends and family were murdered in Israel and in Gaza, I was told that they “had it coming.”

My problem is that my grandfather fought so hard to come to America after saving his own mother from the concentration camps. He killed Nazis. He saved children. He saved his family. And then he fled to America for a better life. He joined the navy. He kept fighting until he knew his children would be safe. And now my father can’t even wear his yarmulke in public.

My problem is that my sister was punched in the face for being a Jew.

My problem is that someone was stabbed to death three blocks from my parents’ house in their own home because they were celebrating Chanukah.

My problem is that my cousin is celebrating his bar mitzvah in June, and if I tell people that I’m going to celebrate with him, they’ll never speak to me again. Because he was born in Israel.

My problem is that you don’t have the chutzpah to look me in the eye and tell me that Judaism is only ok the way you practice it, and antisemitism isn’t real because you don’t experience it the way I do.

My problem is that I want to live in peace with my Palestinian friends. And people like you don’t believe me.

And my biggest problem is that you’re not even gonna read this post.

[powerpuffobsession]

As much as I love Adam for a few fun parts of his character and for what he could have been at the hands of a competent writer (as shown by the fanfics where he gets properly developed)...

I feel like he (and the way he's characterised) is what broke Hazbin hotel season 1 pacing, Lucifer's character and the show's overall atmosphere.

(Long and packed rant under the cut, because I've been having these thoughts since I saw season 1, and I want to share them. Viewer discretion is adviced)

Before Adam existed (pilot era) it was all simple and worked more properly: a story about the hotel and its inhabitants, and most importanty, redemption. It was a small snuggly location with a few characters in the center of a plot

Heaven was in the background and kept as a mystery. Moreover, from what we've seen in the pilot, Lucifer was obviously a background villain or at least an anti hero, one of the real obstacles for Charlie to overcome on the way to her goal (instead of a minor inconveniece resolved in a single broadway song)

But when Adam and his weird obsession with murder broke into that perfectly cut out premise, everything just shattered. Too many themes got weaved into the short story of the 8 episodes: Heaven vs Hell politics, overlords, war, Charlie's conflict with Adam, the seraphims...

All of that pushed the hotel and the redemption to the background instead of Heaven.... in a cartoon that's named after the hotel. Because 8 episodes is not enough to talk about politics, a war and a 6 month redemption course (the latter even happened behind the screen with only some verbal hints given about the amazing secretive progress the hotel guests made that we were not allowed to see!)

(Had this cartoon stayed indie, there would have been a possibility of making more episodes and tackling more themes properly. But big name broadway actors are more important than that, it appears)

Back to Adam.

He is not even a good villain. He really should have been more of a background antihero. Give the man some sedatives, for f's sake! Where did all that rabidity even come from, after centuries of living in Heaven? Honestly, he'd be expected to act calmer and wiser than how he actually did, especially with how old he is (as old as the earth itself). But instead it's like he got frozen in a state of a dumb jock bully from high school

Imagine if Adam allowed Charlie and her hotel guests to prove that redemption is possible, out of principle, or curiosity. Hell, maybe even allow him to threaten to kill them, but not straight away! Later, after they fail to prove him wrong! If that's what Adam's role had been, the hotel part would have gotten time to breathe and more spotlight

All Adam did in the series, was:

1. make a lot of excessive noise

2. do dumbass things (and it wasn't even explained WHY he's the way he is, not even a single flashback or his own musings and thoughts shown, which makes all of his actions fall flat in every sense)

3. break the remains of logic (Heaven looks plain dumb because of him, not able to tell sinning from non sinning and to judge human souls properly. It's not even corruption, since Adam is not that important or benefitial to Heaven, an actual archangel like Michael could have been leading exorcists in his place and do a better job.... it's just stupidity)

And then Adam just died, for nothing and with no consequences.

I mean, straight after Adam's death Lucifer is immediately trying to divert the viewer's attention: "who wants pancakes? :D". It's like the cartoon itself doesn't care that the first human, one of the most mysterious beings in vivzieverse and someone who badly needed a second chance and therapy, just died. By a very stupid joke too (Niffty didn't even have to stab him).

In short, Adam's plotline is a huge waste of screen time...

And while his final smile to Lute may give us some hints that there's something good inside Adam, but it's more akin to mockery. Since we were never shown that there's more to Adam besides "the main character's opponent=ultimate bad"

And of course Lucifer was retconned into a pathetic uwu boi, who's depression and "silliness" have overshadowed the fact that he practically doomed humanity to a life full of pain, suffering and surviving and took away Adam and Eve's home. We don't even get the slightest glimpse of what exactly Lucifer DREAMED of that was so important to force him to do the humans dirty. Meaning it was something abstract and not thought-through anyway.

(Free will my ass.. Adam and Lilith did as they pleased in Eden without the free will, Adam ordering his wives around, Lilith being able to defy him and Eve being able to disobey God. What good did "free will" from that fruit even do them? If anything, it only did harm to everyone)

And so now this daft egotist is being portrayed as this selfless harmless character only for the sake of contrasting the painfully obvious bad evil that Adam is.

That comes off as black and white writing, fit more for a childrens cartoon, despite the show critisizing Adam for thinking in black and white terms. Not a good look

[ceesimz]

The Mountain Is You

Part 2 of 'Our Sun Is Setting'

Wasn't sure whether to do a second part because I didn't think it would be realistic, but then I thought who cares, this is fiction for a reason. Can confirm it's much lighter and softer than the last one, title is a Chance Peña song. (Sorry this took so long, I had a migraine that lasted literal days and it really knocked me for six)

Barcelona. Once a place that felt like home to you, yet now as you clamber into the back of your taxi outside of the airport, it's the same but different.

Same sun, different warmth. Same air, different atmosphere. Same airport, different kind of departure.

Same person tying you down to this city, different dynamic.

If you thought a lot could change in two days, you had no idea what could happen in eighteen months. Turns out, a lot could change too, but thankfully for the sake of your sanity, the mental blows were not so big and not so frequent this time around. You doubt you would be in this situation now, back in the city you love, if it wasn't for your grandparents. They welcomed you with open arms and endless amounts of baked goods as soon as they caught wind of you coming home.

For the first month you stayed with them, most of that time was spent in the spare bedroom they made up for you, not quite holding the confidence or will power to do much else other than feel sorry for yourself. Some days you would walk their dog with them, other days you wouldn't leave the room. Some days you would do as many chores possible for them as a thank you, other days your Grandmother would sit beside you up against the headboard whilst you lay beside her as she read her book out loud, one hand gently running through your hair as she went. Some days you'd all laugh about shared memories of your Mother, other days you'd cry into each other's arms.

Something clicked inside you along the way though. One day you just woke up with a certain determination, and the look on your Grandfather's face as you wandered into the kitchen at 7am was enough to force a few giggles out of you before ushering him to join you on an early morning walk. That was when you voiced your new thoughts to him.

"I think I'm going to start applying for jobs again soon. You know, get out of your hair a little bit." You said to him, smiling when he tutted and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

"Don't be ridiculous. We're happier than we have been in a while now that you're with us, sunshine." He replied honestly, hugging you into his side.

"I know. I'm happy too, but I do want a job. What job, I'm not sure yet, but I'm going to start looking."

"You don't have to pressure yourself though, okay? If you change your mind at any point, that's perfectly fine. Just do it at your own pace. If you would like, you could print off your CV for me and Granny to hand in to places."

"That's fine, Grandad, you don't have to." You laughed lightly at his suggestion, bringing your hand up to cover his that rested on your shoulder. "Everything is online nowadays."

"Of course. That rules me and Gran out the question then, in terms of advice." He grumbled jokingly, though his classic, cheeky smile rests on his face. "Absolutely no help for you there, sweetheart."

"I didn't think there would be any anyway. I've seen Grandma use the microwave." The pair of you laugh at that, before it falls silent as you walk along the cliff-top coastline. The tone of the conversation shifts a bit when you speak again. "I think I'm also going to start seeing a therapist. You know, for everything that's happened."

"Okay, love. Whatever is best for you." And that's all the reassurance you needed.

The job hunt would forever be an aspect of life you despised. But, two months later, you had secured a job within the local area that you chose to walk to most days, a piece of advice from your new therapist that at first you hated but soon it was your favourite part of your daily routine. Apart from when it rained, obviously.

Things were going well though, surprisingly well, and it set in one evening as you sat in the back garden, watching your grandparents gardening, that the choice you made a few months prior was the right one.

You had managed to keep a certain Spaniard out of your mind for most of the time after that first month of being away from her, until one night you got a notification on your phone.

Spain win the FIFA World Cup after a 1-0 victory against England!

What was the right move now? Text her to congratulate her? Or is no contact best for the time being? Would texting her give her false hope? This was arguably the biggest achievement of her career, her whole life, but as a figure of the past, was it right to dredge everything back up again at such a joyful time?

Your hands faltered over your still cracked phone screen, unsure what to do in such an unusual situation. There was no handbook on what to do if your ex-girlfriend, who you're still in love with and who (hopefully) still loves you too, wins the biggest trophy of her career, nor could a google search be any assistance. And unfortunately, as perfect as they are, your grandparents that had been married for over fifty years now may not be any help either.

So, the only decision you could land on, no matter how much you didn't like it, was to leave it.

Until your finger slipped and liked her celebratory Instagram post later that night. You still followed each other on social media, too reluctant to get rid of that remaining bridge, but your Instagram had lain dormant ever since you had left. That meant you had some insight into Alexia's life post-breakup, guiltily indulging in a late night scroll every now and then which you found yourself in now, whilst she had no idea what you were up to or even if you were alive.

Well, at least she knew you were still here and you still cared for her. Could that be shown in one single social media interaction? You hoped so. Maybe that was a tad bit dramatic though. What else were you supposed to do?

You had the same reaction a year later as you watched Alexia captain her team to an unfortunate loss in the Olympics final. However, it was still a silver Olympic medal, and not many athletes could say they have one of those. A congratulatory text from you may have seemed like the start of a pity party though, so once again you opted out of it. Time and place and all that.

A year on and you were in a much better place, there were no two ways about it. Therapy was difficult, of course it was, but people were right when they say it's one of the best things to do for yourself. You don't think you'd ever been better. Subsequently, that led to an inevitable topic to come into discussion during one session.

"What do you think the... repercussions would be if I... went back to Barcelona?" You asked nervously, looking down at your hands as they fidgeted in your lap.

"It depends what you went to get out of it. Would you go for the city itself? Or for her?"

For some reason, in your sessions, your therapist hardly ever named Alexia. It was always 'her' or 'she', never her name. You figured it was so that you never shied away from the subject which was probably close to being the hardest to talk about, but you were too afraid to ask.

"Both." You answered initially. Your therapist stayed quiet of course, waiting for you to answer truthfully, something she again always did. "Her. Mostly."

"Do you think you're in the headspace for it? You've made so much progress since we first started, so you need to think if it'll aid the healing process or cause a regression."

"Well, she wasn't the problem in the first place. Everything she did for me was perfect, it was the relationship as a whole rather than her specifically. She was... she was perfect." You smiled sadly as you reminisced on your time with her. She really was perfect. "But I was the problem, I think. I was the one suppressing so much stuff and... when I was on my own compared to when I was with her, I was two completely different people. It was like light and day. She had a great effect on me, but I guess it's just figuring out if that was healthy or not. That difference in characters, in mindset."

"See? You've learnt so much from this already. Maybe you should just sit in front of a mirror and talk to yourself, you'd save a lot of money." Your therapist jokes, the pair of you laughing lightly. "So, let's get talking then. Let's figure this out."

And you did. You spent the rest of the session discussing whether it would be suitable for you to go back to Barcelona. The conclusion you came to was a very favourable one, one that made you nervously excited. But what would Alexia be like? Had she moved on? Would she still value you the same? Or would you be old news now? Only time could tell.

The only thing you knew was that it is so much darker after a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone, and that was the case with Alexia. Perhaps your life wouldn't have been so flipped upside down if you hadn't had met her; such a sweet and loving soul, the purest and brighest light shining onto every dark crevice you'd ever hidden. You'd had a taste of her, and you'd be damned if you didn't at least try for her again. Alexia Putellas wasn't one to lose, and you'd been fortunate to have her in the first place. If it was a one time thing, maybe you'd have to come to terms with that being the case. But for now, getting to Barcelona was just the first step.

Your grandparents definitely approved of you going back, no matter how long for, whether it be one day or one month or perhaps forever. At some point in the past year you had opened up to them about Alexia and they were heartbroken for you. Of course they would be. Your hearts were one and the same. They were the biggest advocates in getting you to go back and see Alexia, and even if Alexia didn't want to see you, you were still going to go to Barcelona. You had friends there, you'd lived a whole life there for just over a year, you'd fallen in love with it before you'd even met Alexia, so regardless of her opinion (even if it did sting like hell) you're still going.

When you booked your flight there, with no return ticket just yet, your grandparents had cheered and dragged you up from the armchair to dance with them along to the music from their old radio. It was a core memory, absolutely, and you'd be lying if you said a part of you wasn't hoping to share this memory one day with Alexia.

However, the day came where you had to do the thing you'd been most afraid of. Contacting Alexia. It was an occasion that definitely called for an emergency video call with your therapist who was very pleased to meet your grandparents for the first time, albeit over Zoom, and the three of them offered any and all advice you'd take until you had carefully curated a text message to send to her.

You:

Hey Alexia, I hope you're doing well. Feel free to ignore this, but I'm coming back to Barcelona soon and I was wondering if you wanted to catch up? If you don't want to, I completely understand. It's been a while and we've both lived our lives without each other in it, so no pressure at all. Let me know if you're open to it. Take care x

Almost immediately, the message was read by her. And just as quickly, the typing icon came up. Safe to say, your grandparents were freaking out just as much as you were.

Alexia:

Wow, it is so good to hear from you. I'm doing well and I really hope things are much better for you. I've been dreaming of hearing from you since the moment you left. I absolutely want to see you again, I don't care how long it's been, so let me know when you're coming and I'll see you as soon as I can. Espero verte pronto, cuídate x

Any longer and your jaw would have been lodged into its place hanging wide open. She wanted to see you just as much as you wanted to see her. The feeling of relief that washed over you upon reading it was gone as quick as it arrived; instead, you were now filled with nerves. No, not nerves, butterflies.

And that's where you found yourself now, your taxi driver navigating the streets of Barcelona towards your hotel in mid-October. It was reaching the evening, so your plan was to start off the trip calmly with a walk around the city to re-familiarise yourself before sunset, then just order some room service for dinner. Simple, but the right way to start what would probably be a bit of a challenging trip mentally.

Despite the low-key nature of the day, you could hardly sleep later that night. There was only one reason, it was obvious. You and Alexia had plans to meet for lunch the next day after her training session. You can't recall an event in your life you had ever felt so excited for, you felt like a kid on Christmas Eve again. A few doubts trickled into your mind every now and then, but you'd grafted for too long now for petty worries to tear down the confidence you had built.

Of course you were eager to see the woman you loved again for the first time in eighteen months, but there was a bigger part of you that was desperate for her to see the progress you'd made. You were proud, and it had taken a lot to get to this point. You wanted to share your pride with her and show her the person you always knew you could be all along. All of your efforts, your hard-work, and your sacrifices had been worth it. You were right to feel proud. And after all, sacrifices were given that name for a reason.

When you did eventually fall asleep, it was with images of Alexia circling in your mind, hoping she still had a place in her heart for you and that she'd love you again for who you are now and not who you were.

Finally, finally, the time came to see Alexia again. You weren't really sure what to expect; it was a unique situation with exceptional circumstances, and you were trying desperately not to put too much pressure on the day. Yet, you were a despairingly hopeful person and the anticipation was almost overwhelming as you were getting ready.

Contact between you both had been little but often, topics never delving too deep which you were so glad about as you wanted to talk to her properly face to face. You had to, it's the least she deserved. Over text, anything could be easily misinterpreted and you weren't about to ruin your chance with words getting lost in translation. Phone calls and FaceTimes were out of the question too, and you were grateful that your individual desperation wasn't getting in the way of going about this the correctly. By no means were you a perfectionist, but there were some things in life that were far too important to be ruined by a lack of patience and all-consuming desire.

Once again, your new and probably your healthiest habit came into play as you decided to walk under the bright October weather to the place Alexia had chosen for the occasion. Neutral ground of course; meeting at her apartment or your hotel room wasn't appropriate... yet.

You arrived at the quaint, little restaurant first, a coincidence you were more thankful for than you'd admit, and you chose to seat yourself at a table off to the side. A bit of privacy from strangers could go a long way for a day like today, you figured. You didn't really want a bunch of strangers to witness the influx of emotions you'd no doubt go through when Alexia arrived.

Soon though, that became a case of if Alexia would arrive, because ten minutes passed since you had arrived practically on time and there was still no sign of the woman. And, rather naïvely, you hadn't planned for her to stand you up. You and your therapist had almost fully mentally prepared you for every other outcome except that one. She did have training beforehand, perhaps that had ran late. Still, your mind was slowly spiralling into overdrive with each second that passed.

Until she did arrive.

The bell over the door rang faintly through the room as it opened hastily, a frantic looking Alexia entering the restaurant. She was really here. Here, basically racing over to you whilst weaving through the tables and chairs and the light scattering of people. Here, still as breathtakingly beautiful as ever. Still Alexia.

She came to a stop in front of you, both of you stuck in a trance as if the world had stopped spinning solely for this moment right here. An anticipatory and contemplative silence settled as your eyes' tracked over every feature of the other, a refresh for the memory of the face you'd so dearly missed.

Alexia was the first to speak - a breathless whisper of your name as if she was in disbelief that you were right in front of her. It triggered something in you, because before you had even realised, you had jumped up from your chair and wrapped your arms tightly around her; a hug you had been dying for for longer than you'd admit. It took a few seconds for her to react but soon, Alexia enveloped you just as emphatically.

The embrace was paired with a few more whispered chants of your name from Alexia - in this moment, for her, it felt like the past months without you she had just been floating through her life, waking up everyday as if it were a chore more than anything. But now, in your arms, she felt alive again. The time without you had been worth it for this single moment here.

"Hey." You mumbled quietly into her neck, smiling uncontrollably when the taller woman squeezed you impossibly more in response.

"Hi." Her voice cracked ever so slightly as she spoke. "Hi."

"You already said that." You teased her lightly, meeting her gaze when she moved back to look at you properly. One of her hands came up to delicately cradle your cheek as if she was scared you would disintegrate at her touch. "Don't be so worried. I'm not going anywhere right now."

"You better not." Alexia murmured, her eyes boring down at you so deeply that it caused your breath to hitch in your throat. "I can't believe you're here."

You blushed at the intensity of her look, gesturing a hand down your body jokingly.

"Live in the flesh." You grinned cheekily, gasping slightly when she pulled you back into herself. "Ale."

"Say that again." She said so quietly you almost missed it.

"Alexia. Ale." You repeated, along with a light kiss to her cheek. She physically deflated in your arms, all the tension you didn't even realise was there dissipating immediately. You saying her name was like the last confirmation she needed that yes, you were actually here.

"I..." She started, leaning back and shaking her head whilst letting out a shaky breath. "I missed you. So much."

You smile and... almost instinctively lean in to kiss her - what were you doing?

"I missed you too." You replied, willing yourself to not ruin it, not now, not when you've made it so far. "I really did."

She returned a smile and reluctantly lets go of you in favour of finally taking a seat at the table. You sit across from her and realise that most of the tables were quite small and intimate, and if you had any remaining functional thought processes left that weren't all occupied by Alexia, you would have thought she'd chosen this restaurant for that specific feature. Your knees grazed against each other under the table and Alexia couldn't stop herself from travelling the small distance with her hands to grasp one of yours with both of hers.

"How are you?"

"Well, that's quite a question. Do you want the short answer or the long answer?" You answer humorously, Alexia shrugging.

"Whatever you want. Say it all or say nothing, I'm just glad to be in your company again." You can't help but swoon a little at her words. "But... I would really like it if you were honest with me. And open. Though I understand if not."

"I'm happy to tell you it all. You best have your listening ears on though." You say, delighted to hear her laugh.

"I do, I swear."

At that, you explain everything from start to finish. From the days you spent in bed, to the first therapy session you had, to the moment you opened up to your grandparents, all the way to the point where you made the decision to come back to Barcelona. The only slightly annoying and poorly timed interruption was from the waiter who asked for your orders, the pair of you quickly apologising and taking one glance at the menu before ordering the first thing that caught your eye.

She listened intently to every word you had to say, not afraid to ask a question every now and then whilst also respecting the privacy you still had every right to. Alexia didn't really feel like you absolutely owed her anything, she just wanted a little context to it all, a little closure and an update on your current state of mind. She just wanted you to be well, she just wanted you.

The whole time you spoke, she simply gazed at you with such a soft and earnest look in her eyes. With her presence that, despite all that time, still had the greatest effect on you paired with your newfound self, you were at peace here.

"You promise that you're better now?" She raises her hand up to you, waiting for you to link fingers with her to secure your truth. And this time, you weren't lying when you answered her.

"I'm so much better." You stated with a shy smile, and that statement felt like the final nail in the coffin to the whole journey you'd been on the past two years.

"You don't know how happy I am to hear that." Alexia revealed with a disbelieving shake of her head. You lift your shoulders in a dismissive shrug, glancing down at your joined hands in the centre of the table.

"Are you... are you angry at me?" You ask. You weren't perfect still, you still had doubts and insecurities.

"What would I be angry about?" Her nose scrunched up in genuine confusion.

"Any of it. All of it."

"Hey." She said, nudging your hand to try and gain your attention. You look up at her and blush a little. "Do I seem angry?" You ponder that for a moment, eyes searching her face, before shaking your head no. "Good, because I'm not. Not at all. What person would I be to react like that?"

"An asshole." You mumble, the pair of you breaking out into laughter after a second.

"I'm proud of you and happy for you. You..." Alexia sighs and pauses, wondering if it's the right time to say what she wanted to say. It's her turn to focus her attention on your hands as she mindlessly traced random shapes on the back of your hand with her finger. "This new version of you, I can see that you're less... weighed down by things. There is a different look in your eyes and though I can't quite describe it yet, I know it's a sign that you feel better and more at peace with yourself. That is all I could wish for, for the person I love."

Sorry, what was that?

"Uh, you sti- you still love me?" You stuttered. You just had to know.

"Yes. I do." Alexia confirms, a sheepish smile on her face. "I was being truthful before you left when I said that I'll always love you. Maybe I shouldn't have said this now. You don't have to love me still. I would... I would understand."

"No, Ale, what?" You shook your head at her and squeezed her hands tightly. "I love you. I'll always love you too. Why do you think I wouldn't love you?"

"Why would you think I wouldn't love you?" She hits back, resulting in you both laughing shyly. "It would have to be really crazy situations for me to not love you, chiqui."

"Was this not a crazy situation? Me dramatically fleeing the country out of nowhere?"

"No, and don't say it like that. You had every reason to leave, okay? I told you that when you left and I'll still tell you that now. I don't resent you for choosing yourself." Alexia argues firmly, bringing your hand up to her mouth so that she could kiss the back of it reassuringly. She halts for a moment, wondering if it's appropriate to do so, but judging by the redness of your cheeks she decides to go through with it. "I... just had a few doubts about this all, but now that you're here my mind has calmed down now."

"Are you okay?" You blurt out.

At the mention of herself, your concern immediately turned to Alexia and how she coped through all this. If you knew her as well as you thought you did, you had a feeling you knew what her immediate reaction would be.

"What do you mean?"

Exactly what you guessed.

"I haven't checked up on you yet. I want to know how you've been doing." You answer, shifting forward slightly so that you were closer to her.

"Why check up on me?" Alexia chuckles nervously.

"Because your girlfriend walked out on you and went off the grid for a year and a half. Forget about me right now, Ale, I want to know how you are."

She pauses looking at you, an internal battle going on behind her eyes that you're all too familiar with, until she sighs once more and her demeanour drops.

"Well, I was worried about you, firstly. Everyday I woke up you were the first thing I thought about and the last thing in my mind before I slept. I don't think you ever left my mind, not for long anyway. I wanted the best for you. And then I guess... I had a few selfish thoughts too. But as I said, you're here, and I don't need to think about them anymore." Alexia told you, a tight-lipped smile on her face. "I don't want to say them now, today is about you."

"No, Alexia, it's not. It's a day for both of us." You urge her to understand that it's okay for her to open up, that it's been a hard time for her too, but part of you knows you most likely won't get that out of her today.

"Amor, please. Let's do this another time, for now just focus on the positive. We can talk about me any other time, just not now, please." She begs with a pleading look in her eyes. "I am okay, I swear. You being here has solved everything, it's the truth."

"Promise you'll open up at some point soon?" It's your turn to hold your hand up for her to make a promise.

"As long as you stay long enough." She jokes, but it's clear to see there is some fear and insecurity there. She does link her finger with yours though, a sentiment that's never lost on you. "How long are you staying for?"

"That's the thing. I don't really have a return date yet." You admit, and the flash of hope in Alexia's eyes ignites a feeling of longing inside of you.

Forget timings and socially standardised timelines of falling in love or healing or whatever it was you were doing, you didn't care anymore. Why delay the inevitable process? You were in love with her and she was in love with you. Taking it slow was overrated anyway.

"What does that mean?" Alexia asks, her heart palpitating at the prospect of your answer.

"It means... anything, Ale. What do you want it to mean?"

Perhaps answering questions with another question wasn't the best habit you'd picked up from your therapist.

"You want the truth?" You nod instantly, your emotions already bubbling and she hasn't even said anything yet. "As long as you are ready for it, and you must swear to me that you are because I don't want to h-"

"Oh my god, just say it, please." You beg, eyes wide in hopeful anticipation, waiting for her to admit the thing you had yearned for all these months.

"I want you back in my life, permanently. I want to be your girlfriend again. No matter how long it takes, no matter how slow you decide to take things, the thing I've wished for all this time is to just be yours again, to have you as mine. I'll do anything to make that happen, I swear by it. You want me to throw stones at your hotel window? I'll do it. You want me to sneak onto your balcony in the middle of the night? I'll do that. You want me to stand outside your door with a loudspeaker and signs? I already have the speaker and words prepared. I'll even stand in the centre of Montjuïc at the next game and sing for you if you really want."

You laugh at every ridiculous idea of devotion that comes out of her mouth, eyes glossy with unshed tears. Except, this time, the tears aren't ones of sorrow or longing, they're tears of exultation and relief. Alexia had waited for you, all this time. There had been no one else for her and no matter how selfish it was, it's the best revelation you've ever had.

"I don't think the culers would be too happy about you singing." You teased, rolling your eyes at the smug and nonchalant shrug she gave.

"I don't care, because it wouldn't be for them, it would be for you." She smirks, leaning in closer. Your foreheads were mere inches about now, a fact neither of you could ignore.

"You sure you want me back?" You mumbled shyly. It was Alexia's turn to roll her eyes now as she fought back the temptation to kiss the doubt off of your lips.

"I want nothing more than I want you." She responded, sounding so sure of herself that it was intoxicatingly enticing.

"Even if it's long distance for a little while?"

"Even then." Alexia smiles, resting her arms on her elbows as she brought your joined hands up together to rest in between you both. She pressed her lips to your hands once more, eyes closed as she does so, before looking back into your eyes. "We will figure out the logistics another time. For now, all I know is that I have the love of my life back and I want to spend every second I can with her before she leaves."

"Love of your life, hm?" You whisper with a shy grin, Alexia grunting at how you teased her for her softness. It was something you'd always done, and she was grateful that that part of you hadn't changed. "Well, what do we do now?"

"I'm hoping that you will let me kiss you, finally."

"In here? With all these people?" There really weren't that many people in there, and the few that were wouldn't even take notice of the sickeningly sweet moment occuring.

"Sí. Déjame besarte, por favor." The sound of Alexia speaking Spanish was something you could never get over, it did things to you everytime. How could you deny her when she spoke like she did?

"I guess." You rolled your eyes and sighed dramatically as if it was such an inconvenience.

Alexia simply grinned and planted both her hands on your cheeks before surging forward to kiss you. However, she pauses for a moment, just taking in your appearance and letting out a huff of disbelieved laughter, then she finally presses her lips against yours. A quiet, muffled moan leaves your throat before you can stop it, and the sound of it causes Alexia to smirk smugly. Frustratingly, the stupid but irresistible thing made it aggravatingly difficult to kiss the life out of her like you so wanted to. The smirk was wiped off of Alexia's face the second you broke the kiss much sooner than she wanted to.

"What's wro-"

"I can't kiss you how I want to when you're grinning like a maniac, pendeja!" You groan, butting your forehead against hers to further emphasise your annoyance.

"Pobrecita bebé." Alexia pouts sarcastically at you whilst gently grasping your chin with her thumb and forefinger. That idiotic, childish grin soon forced its way back where it belongs, and you can't help but smile at the sight of it. "I can't help it, amor! What do you want me to do?"

"Be normal and not do that stupid smirk!"

"Oh, perdónarme, I'm sorry I'm so happy that I have you back!" Alexia exclaims, arguing solely to rile you up. What people didn't know about this layered Catalan is that she loved bickering with you or just annoying you in general. You didn't realise quite how much you missed it until this moment now.

"I swear to god, stop being so infuriating and just get o-"

And get on with it she did. You couldn't even finish your sentence before she silenced you in one of the best ways you could think of. And god bless the poor waiter who just wanted to do his job, because when he came to give you your meals, the sight he walked up to was somewhat less than PG. The young guy, who honestly looked no older than 18, cleared his throat louder than normal and the pair of you jumped a mile apart at the unexpected presence. Alexia had to grip the edge of the table to prevent her chair from tipping back, trying desperately to disguise her embarrassment with a tight-lipped smile and rambled thanks to the boy, all the whilst you had to stifle what would be a very loud belly laugh.

"Calláte, that was your fault." Alexia hushed out, her eyes scanning the room to figure out if anyone else had just witnessed that monstrosity. Meanwhile, your face was now bright red due to the laughter threatening to escape out from behind your palm that covered your mouth. It was Alexia's fault really, the shot burst of laughter that barrelled out of you, because she kicked you in the shin as she sipped from the water that had been dropped off at some point during the afternoon. "Dios mío, what is wrong with you!?"

"Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry." You choked out. You took a page from Alexia's book and drank some of your water. As you did, you noticed that Alexia's face wasn't contorted to one of irritation, it was the face she did when she was trying to suppress the overwhelming amount of joy she felt. As someone who was so keen to convey a certain persona, it was one you'd seen a few times since you'd known her, and this was perhaps your favourite look of hers. "I think you'll find it was your awkwardness that was at fault, Ale."

"Yeah, yeah. Eat your food, idiota."

There were periods of peaceful silence as you ate, some conversation here and there, but despite all that has and hasn't been said so far, it felt like there wasn't anything that needed to be uttered. You were both content to enjoy each other's presence again, your eyes meeting every other moment as you ate which resulted in you both blushing and laughing like lovesick teenagers.

It really was tooth-rottingly sweet, and though the dynamic wasn't all too different than it was before, there was solace found in the knowledge that a lot of things had been changed for the better. The prospect of it all was exhilarating, a new path for you both to walk together, and for you there were no longer question marks looming over every part of your life.

The main thing that hadn't changed too much for you, a thing you were relieved about, was the way Alexia made you feel. It was the same as it used to be, except about a million times better. There wasn't so much guilt or gloom that was masked by Alexia, it was all genuine and you already knew that feeling would bleed into your everyday life with her around.

"You said you told your grandparents about me?" Alexia wondered, sitting back in her chair with her hands linked over her stomach.

"I did. They said if this goes well, I have to bring back Barça shirts for them." You revealed with a smile, Alexia chuckling.

"I can organise that for them. As well as tickets to a game if they'd like."

"Alright, Miss Marketing." You roll your eyes at her offer, pausing to take a sip from your half-full glass. "We get it, you love your club. You don't have to spread the message like a missionary."

"I have to win them over some way." Alexia laughs, before her face turns a little more serious and you have a feeling you know what she's about to bring up. "What about your... Dad?"

"Haven't spoken to him since the day I left." You answer, eyes focused on the tracks your finger left behind on the condensation of the glass as it ran around the curve of it. "No idea what he's doing or where he is. Just know that he's alive and that's all I have the energy to care about."

"That's good for you, amor. He doesn't deserve you."

"I know that." You smile genuinely at her, and that's another one of her worries she had for you erased. "I think, out of anyone, my therapist is the one you must give tickets to."

"Mm, yes. I must meet this magical woman one day, I owe my life to her." That charming smirk is back on her face, and you blush at that as well as the sentiment she holds in her words.

"I don't want this meal to end." You mumble in a disheartened voice, reaching your hand across the small gap between you both to grasp one of the hands on her stomach.

"It... it doesn't have to, amor." Alexia starts, catching your attention as you look up to meet her eyes. "You could come over to my apartment. It's been a while since you've been there. The indentation on my balcony chair has left, I think you need to reinstate it."

You roll your eyes at her humour, a soft smile on your face at the laugh she gives at her own jokes. You do think the offer over though - is it too soon? Maybe, but if this counted as a first date, milestones were out the window considering you'd already confessed your love for each other. Did time and patience count when it came to re-conciliating a relationship? Screw it, who cares.

"I'd be happy to come over, Ale. If you want that."

"Are you sure? Because I would love that, except I don't want to rush you or ruin anything if we move too fast."

"Fuck that. I know what I want now and that's you. Who cares what is too fast. I've delayed our relationship once already, I'm not doing that again."

She stares at you from across the table and if it was possible, you'd say her pupils were the shape of a heart with the look she fixed you with. Then she was standing out of nowhere, shrugging her jacket back on whilst you watched her, completely confused, until she held her hand out for you.

"Let's go, ay?" She hums, wiggling her fingers to urge you to move. "No wasting time, you said."

You jut your tongue into your cheek, heart fluttering at her forwardness, and gather your own coat before taking her hand. She presses a soft kiss to your cheek before guiding you towards the exit with a hand on your lower back, a notion she's always done and one you'll always adore.

Silently, she leads you to her car that's parked around the corner and watches with a shy but proud smile as you climb into the passenger side of the car. With every little thing you did, whether that was humming contently as you ate your food or smiling at her absentmindedly every time she spoke, or even just blinking and breathing, she realised she could never verbalise the love she held for you because she'd never experienced it before in her life, ever. Not with pets, not with friends, not with her family. It was otherworldly, unexplainable, and though she wasn't religious, her devotion to you was just as close to that.

Again, there is just light, scattered chatter as she drives you back to one of your favourite places in the world, and once more she guides you to the elevator with her palm pressed to your back. As you stand in the lift, shoulder to shoulder, there are modestly triumphant smiles on your faces, a wordless shared notion sitting between you that everything was worth it in the end. Even if it took a journey and a half to get there, the climb was always worth it for the view at the top.

"What would you like to do now?" Alexia asks as she unlocks her door and allows you to step in before her.

"Uh, can we chill on the balcony? You know it's my favourite spot." You reply with a grin, and Alexia somehow knew you were going to say that, almost as if she's heard those words leave your mouth maybe a few hundred times in the past.

"Of course. You go ahead, I'll get us some drinks."

You nod and walk through to her bedroom, one thing standing out to you; everything is exactly the same as it was before. That comforts you impossibly more than you yourself could ever understand. Future therapy topic?

However, there is one thing that jumps out at you. You walk over to where it stands on Alexia's dresser and pick it up, holding the object in your hand with a smile on your face.

"Ale, why do you have my favourite perfume here? I never once brought it to your apartment." You shout to where she was in the kitchen, no doubt her cheeks a bright pink colour at the fact she'd been caught out.

"Because I bought some, after you left." She replied, and you giggle to yourself at the ever so slightly embarrassed tone that creeps through.

"Liked the smell, did you?"

"Mm. Something like that." She grumbled.

You grin and place it down, heading over to the sliding door adjacent to her bed and opening it. The air that hits you and the sight that greets you causes a wave of familiarity to wash over you, one that you welcome straight away. You take a deep breath and bask in the feeling, leaning on the railing as your eyes raked over the view you adored.

A few minutes later and you hear Alexia walking out behind you, first placing the drinks on the small side table before joining you at the edge. She wraps an arm loosely around your waist and rests her chin on your shoulder, admiring the view of the city that was literally right on her doorstep.

"I missed this view." You break the silence first, voicing what Alexia already knew.

"I missed you." She murmurs, turning to press a kiss to your shoulder when she notices something. "Ah, I knew you never gave that back."

Delicately, she runs her index finger along the necklace that sat around your neck which she had gifted you way back when, quietly delighted to see you still wearing it. And it also aided her in not feeling so embarrassed about the earlier incident where you had found the perfume she bought in memory of you.

"Yeah, sorry about that." You mumble sheepishly, shivering when Alexia chuckles into your neck where her lips soon leave a kiss.

"No, I like that you still have it."

You hum in acknowledgement, content to stay here in the arms of your girlfriend as the locals carried on with the hustle and bustle of city life below you.

"This was my favourite thing about your apartment." You state a little while later, leaning your head against Alexia's.

"I remember." You feel her say it more than you hear it, before a thought clearly captures her attention as she stands up fully, still with her arm around you. "You could come here, uh... full time, you know?"

"You mean move in with you?" It's not the most surprising thing you'd heard from her in all honesty, but it was still a bit of a shock to the system.

"If you'd like. I know I would be happy with that."

"I would too, but... I think that maybe does cross the line of 'too soon' though." You reply with an apologetic smile, but Alexia understands instantly, of course she does.

"That's okay." She comments, one more kiss to your shoulder. "Do you think you'll ever come back to live here again? Barcelona, I mean."

With this city before you, this woman holding you and loving you so gently, and the sea and the sky merging into one in the far distance, you think that maybe life can be simple after all. That starts and ends with Alexia.

"I think it's only a matter of time."

[cassiopeia-core]

obsessed

leo valdez x daughter of hecate reader

a/n: calypso is nice in this one, reader is vv insecure (self-projecting lol), also ending was kinda rushed bc i didn't know how to finish it, also not proofread :)

song: obsessed - olivia rodrigo

(calypso is a pisces for the plot)

La-da-da-da, da-da-da, la-da-da-da-da La-da-da-da, da-da-da

when leo and calypso broke up, the entirety of camp half-blood was flabbergasted. why wouldn't they be? leo had literally sworn on the river styx for calypso, dying and resurrecting for her then rescuing from her cursed island. the perfect couple.

however, what camp half-blood didn't know was the reason behind the breakup: you. while leo did truly like calypso, deep down, he always knew that you, his best friend, had a special place in his heart.

after leo and you got together officially, rumours starting spiralling about how you'd used 'black magic' to capture leo's love and the matching sun and moon necklaces that you two always wore was cursed or something??? you'd always thought these rumours were ridiculous; you'd literally gotten him the necklace before he'd even known calypso.

Cause I know her star sign, I know her blood type I've seen every movie she's been in and, oh god, she's beautiful

but naturally, although you'd never admit it, you were insecure. calypso was smart, funny and beautiful. she was a goddess for gods sake. you tried to push those negative thoughts down, the thoughts that fed the growing monster that was jealousy inside of you. you were obsessed with her.

you literally had a star sign chart featuring her and leo's signs and their compatibility rates. they were so compatible, perfect for each other. being a daughter of hecate and all, you took these things very seriously. but you could never let leo know. what would he think of you then? you didn't want to lose him more. so everytime he would hangout with you in your cabin, you made sure to cast the Mist over your charts, disguising them or making them appear as though they were nothing.

She's talented, she's good with kids She even speaks kindly about me, ha-huh

hoping to break the good girl image everyone had of her, you always dreamed of catching her slipping up and badmouthing you.

like right now.

you'd been heading back to your cabin after dinner when you heard the voices of Calypso and her friends. you were ready to stear clear and hopefully go around them without catching attention but as you neared them, you realised they were talking about you???

you quickly shrouded yourself in the Mist and crept closer. eavesdropping probably wasn't the best idea but you were determined to prove that she wasn't the good girl everyone thought she was.

"girl, have you seen leo's new girlfriend?" you heard one of her friends snicker. your heart picked up its pace and your ears strained to hear more.

"there's no way he'd rather be with a witch than you calypso, who in their right mind would do that?"

your heart plummeted when you heard calypso sigh, "guys, i've moved on, leo's moved on so there's really no point in badmouthing y/n. also, she is one of the sweetest people ive met. please don't think so lowly of her."

needless to say, you slunk ashamedly back to your cabin.

But I can't help it, I got issues, I can't help it, baby

you couldn't sleep.

couldn't stop comparing yourself to her, couldn't stop doubting why leo could possibly leave her for u.

they were perfect together, like warm flames embracing the smoldering logs in a fireplace on a cold winter's day. but you? you were nothing. you were like the useless mantelpiece above the fireplace, watching on as the flames danced to their full potential.

so you decided it would be best to break up with him

coming to a cold, hard conclusion, you swung yourself out of bed and out of your cabin, and headed towards bunker 9, where undoubtedly, your hardworking boyfriend would be slaving away at the forges.

upon hearing you arrive, leo dropped his work with a clatter and pushed his hair out of his eyes. "baby!" he sang, making his way towards you. "look what i - "

"leo," you interrupted. he looked so excited, eyes brimming with love and enthusiasm, looking at you like were the most beautiful piece of art in the world. you almost stopped yourself from saying your next words but - "leo, i want to break up"

he came to a halt before you. "w-what? did i do something wrong? i'll fix it please, please, please don't do this. just tell me what's wrong? i love you baby please."

you could feel your heart shatter at the sight before you. eyes wide with uncertainty and face full of confusion, the upset on leo's face made you want to turn back time take back your words.

"leo, im so sorry. i love you so much too but, i'm so obsessed with your ex. i feel like a fucking creep! i can't help but think that we're not meant to be and calypso is perfect for you." you managed, chest aching, desperate for something to hold onto, to cling onto. "you're wasting your time on me. i'm not worth it."

"aww baby," leo pulled his arms around you. you sobbed into his shoulder, not caring about how dirty your pajamas were going to be after this. "baby, please don't think like that. you're my forever girl. my one in a million lifetimes. and i love you for you."

you sobbed harder and leo's grip on you tightened. "mi vida, i swear on the river styx that i will try my hardest for you to never ever feel this way again. just promise me that you'll stay with me. i'll love only you, baby. promise."

and he kept it till his very last breath.

a/n pt2: ummm (idk what this is but i love leo soooo)

divider creds: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more 

[astaraels]

Fem gallavich version of the prison reunion?

Ian watched the prison door close and turned around, her breath coming quickly, almost to the point of panic. This was for real, not a nightmare like she almost hoped, and she was stuck in this place for...fuck, who even knew how long? Her lawyer had tried to argue for a mental health facility, but the judge had denied it, decided instead on medium security for at least the next two years. So here she was for the foreseeable future, and it was ironic that among all these other women, Ian had never felt so alone.

She set her bedding and extra prison uniform on the top bunk and sighed—for a brief moment she'd been glad not to have to deal with her cell mate just yet, but of course as soon as she'd had the thought, the door opened, and Ian felt her shoulders stiffen in response. Turning around, she steeled herself—

But anything she might have said evaporated from her mind at the sight of Mickey goddamn Milkovich standing there, her black hair combed to one side, longer than the last time Ian had seen her, her blue eyes sparkling with poorly concealed mirth.

"So I rolled on the cartel I'd been working for," Mickey said, all casual, like she hadn't just thrown Ian's entire world out of orbit with her presence, "and in exchange, guess who gets to pick where she gets locked up?"

Ian could only stare at Mickey, breath caught in her chest, unable to believe that she was here, right here, right now, when she thought she'd be alone in the worst place possible. "...holy shit," she managed to choke out, a poor substitute for all the words she wanted to say. Like how did you get here, what are you doing back in prison, why did you do this, when did you get that new tattoo. But all the words died on the tip of her tongue as Mickey walked past her, winking as she did so.

"By the way," she said, "I got bottom, so uh, you're on top." Like it was no big deal, like she hadn't just thrown Ian for a goddamn loop by her mere presence here in the same fucking prison. That she'd given up the freedom she'd worked so hard for. Why she'd turned snitch on a Mexican drug cartel to do so, just to be back with Ian. So many questions, but there was time enough for that, later. As Mickey stretched out languidly on the bottom bunk, looking like a rather contented cat, Ian couldn't help but rush towards her.

She practically jumped on top of Mickey, pressing their bodies flush together. Her own freshly dyed hair fell around their faces, mingling with Mickey's own, and Ian's eyes wanted to close as she inhaled deeply, Mickey's familiar scent filling the air around her. It made her ache in so many ways; it'd been so long since that awful day at the border, when she'd kissed Mickey goodbye for what she thought would be the last time. But no, now she was here, pressed against Ian, a hand sliding through Ian's hair, pulling her in close, slowly, carefully bringing their faces into a kiss.

And God, what a kiss it was; it took every bit of willpower Ian had not to fucking devour her. There was a slight tremble in Mickey's hand, in spite of the confidence of her words, and Ian wanted to take her apart, piece by fucking piece. This wasn't the time or place for it, though; that could come later. For now, there was a soft, careful exploration of mouths, teeth and tongues holding back for the moment; they pressed together carefully, tentatively, as if both of them could barely believe this was real.

Ian brought one hand up and stroked Mickey's cheek, pressing their foreheads together. It was impossible to believe, but yeah, she was here, right here, and it made Ian want to weep. This was what she'd been missing. The puzzle piece she couldn't find for so long, the part of herself she'd tried to forget and put away. But there was no separating Ian Gallagher from Mickey Milkovich. No matter what, they would always find their way back to each other.

"I fucking love you," she murmured against Mickey's lips, feeling Mickey's answering smile against her mouth.

"Damn right, Gallagher," Mickey said. "Can't get rid of me that easy." And all Ian could do in response was to kiss her again. This time, she wasn't going to let her go.

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - Ghosts And Cold Turkey Is A Bad Mix

@darthfrodophantom @datawyrms @kalifa100 @lovelyunknown @nat-space-obsessed @duchi-nesten

Jazz has a boyfriend. Jazz has a boyfriend who has NOT met her family. Jazz has a boyfriend who has not met her family and knows absolutely NOTHING about her families career path. Jazz has a boyfriend who was about to have A Bad Time. Danny, Elle, and Dan were going to make sure of that in every way remotely possible… short of world ending calamity.

Alright, so Jazz probably should have actually talked to Bassel about her family, preferably before he had decided that he absolutely had to finally met her family. It was spring break so she couldn’t exactly push it off till later, or long enough to explain anything really, so he was officially going in ‘cold turkey’. Had she mentioned that her family was weird? Of course, that was unavoidable. But she’s fairly certain he thought that ‘weird’ meant being really into fishing or made crochet baby dolls, not everything ghosts. And now that they’re on the road she’s fairly certain that telling the driver that ghosts are ‘the family business’ is a bad idea; it would not be good if he were to drive off of the road in shock.

Bassel chuckling, “so am I going to get regaled with stories about weird birds they’ve seen bird watching or the last obscure B list bird horror flic?”.

Jazz laughing awkwardly, “you have not idea. No idea at all…”.

Unfortunately Jazz was unaware of one simple fact, it wasn’t just her and her plus one who was coming to visit for the break….

Jack beams as a clawed hand crams itself through the seam in the Fenton Ghost Portal™, turning his head to the stairs, “Danny! Your kid’s are here!”.

“AWESOME! WE’RE MAKING COOKIES TO PACIFY THE GREMLIN! SEND ‘EM UP!”.

Sweet! Cookies! Yum. Jack turning back to the portal as the doors slam open loudly and threateningly, Jack chuckling to himself, that man was always such a drama queen. Watching the tall full ghost step through the now open portal, a little sister sitting perched on his shoulders. The little missy waving wildly at her grandpa, “hiyya gramps!”.

The flaming-haired full ghost scoffing, “Yeah yeah, whatever”.

Jack grinning and jumping up, moving to hug the two, the elder of the two stiffening and just ‘putting up with’ the hugging, “glad you kiddos could make it!”, ruffling the littler one’s hair, “there’s cookies”.

“Hell yeah!”, and she’s off like a rocket, flying up the stairs.

Jack eyes the full ghost, “beat any other ghosts down lately?”.

The man snorts, “obviously. Not that any of them were much of a fight”, grinning meanly, all fang, “the gorffens were deliciously squishie though”. Jack laughing as the two large men head upstairs.

Danny’s grinning his head off watching Elle devouring at least fifth-teen ghost-shaped cookies. Waving at Dan as he comes up behind Jack, “there’s pure ecto-cookies too, Mr. Can’t Eat Mortal Realm Food”. The full ghost scowls and flips him off but absolutely takes a couple of the overly green person-shaped cookies. Ha. The human cookies were ghost shaped and the ghost cookies were human shaped.

“Whatever, mom”.

Danny absolutely scowls at that, chucking a cookie at the ghost. While Maddie hums, eyeing them all, “Jazz will be coming by too”.

“Oh? When?”

“Any moment now, I believe”.

“I am in pj’s!”.

Dan snorts, “you look like a dumbass no matter what you’re wearing”. That gets him immediately blasted in the face with a small ecto-beam, the ghost only grinning viscously in response; Danny zipping up through the ceiling to get changed. Mom seriously couldn’t have told him sooner? Gosh! He had a new ugly ass sweater with a stupid ghost joke on it to show off!

The knots in Jazz’s stomach could kill her if they became ghosts right about now, as Bassel pulls them up into her drive way. He nearly rams into the house actually, having been staring at the ops centre on the roof, “uh, okay, spaceship on the roof is slightly more out there than I was expecting?”, looking to her, “and do they run their business from their house? Hence the sign?”.

Jazz laughs awkwardly, “they have permits for it… that they got after building it”.

He shrugs, “I can admire the guts”, and patting her on the shoulder, “and stop being so nervous, I’m a great guy! I’m sure they’ll love me. Plus you’ve said they’re pretty easy to please”.

“Oh I’m not worried about their reaction to you, rather your reaction to them. I have mentioned they’re weird right? And that my dad’s taller than ninety-one percent of the human population?”.

“… you did not mention the height, damn that’s impressive, he’s the one with the personality of a puppy, right?”.

She gives him a supportive back pat before they get out and head to the front door, “yes, and thank everything for that. His hugs are crushing though”.

“I bet”.

The door pops open without her having to knock, meaning Danny’s up, “sup Jazz and- oh shit, you brought company. Fuck. Two seconds”, and slams the door in her face.

Bassel quirking an eyebrow, “what? Is he still in pj’s or something? That was a really ugly sweater. Pink? and green? Together? Ew”, chuckling a little, “and did it say ‘boo’ onto others as you would have others ‘boo’ unto you? Why was there an image of a ghost aggressively holding out a loaf of garlic bread?”.

She snorts, even if she’s honestly confused, “oh no, he always makes sure to wear something really unpleasant to look at when he knows I’m visiting. I believe it’s born from a sick, though harmless, degree of sadism”, frowning, “though I’m not sure why he just rudely slammed the door in our faces”.

And then she hears the cackle, the loud deep malicious cackle, officially realising that she… might have fucked up. Just a little bit. Sighing and facepalming, “oh no”. The couple standing there as seemingly a shouting match goes on inside.

“GET CHANGED YOU DIPSHIT!”

“YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! MOM!”.

“I WILL END YOU!”.

“GO AHEAD AND TRY!”.

“Are they gonna want these cookies or?”.

“DON’T YOU DARE! Yes, gumdrop, leave them some. HEY DROP THAT! DROP THAT NOW!”… “EW!”.

“HA!”.

“DAN!-”.

Then the door jerks open very aggressively, and Jazz and Bassel stare up at the giant of a man with too sharp eyes and a feral unkind grin, “so you bagged someone, eh? Need someone to beat him through the wringer?”, and moves to grab Bassel’s arm; who thankfully has the common sense to pull away while staring almost disturbed at the man.

Jazz grabbing Dan’s wrist and holding him, glaring at the semi-reformed mass murderer/genocidal, parricidal, infanticidal, amicicidal, omnicidal, deicidal, ecocidal, mundicidal, psychopath. “Don’t even think about, Dan”.

“Aw but Jazzy-”.

She points a finger in his face, “no. Bad. No trying to physically fight my boyfriend”.

Then Dan’s head gets yanked back, Danny grasping the man’s ponytail, “get back in here, you shit”. The door closing again.

Jazz turns and winces at Bassel’s freaked out expression, “alright so, I didn’t know Dan was going to be here. I would have absolutely said no, if I’d known that”.

“Should I be worried?”; he looked extremely worried.

Jazz grimacing, “he’s… on parole, for, well, for murder so, yes”, grabbing Bassel’s wrist, “well we’re here now, just, don’t go anywhere with him alone. He’s also a prankster”.

Bassel almost squawking, “Murder?!?!”, as she drags him through the threshold into the Fenton household.

They get smacked with the noise immediately, she still doesn’t get how her parents managed to make a semi-sound barrier for inside the house that worked even when doors or windows were open… even if it didn’t always work well with ghosts or half ghosts. Danny is ramming cookies into Dan’s face while standing on his shoulders and snarling, Dan attempting to yank him off. Elle is bouncing around on all fours playing with cujo, who’s vibrating with excitement literally. Dad is laughing, head on the table, and slamming a fist on it repeatedly; a chair falls over. And Mom’s set the stove on fire and is smacking it leisurely with that fire-proof ghost net; the Fenton Flamo-Containo she thinks.

Jazz rolling up her sleeves, sighing, and moving over to her mom, “what did you burn, mom?”; and starts properly smothering the flames… the flames have faces and eyeballs.

This was a mistake. This entire trip was a mistake. Her poor boyfriend.

Bassel blinks, gives himself a fortifying shake, and swallows, “hi? Um, I’m Bassel?”.

The smallest one is on him in a second, it’s freaky. Her chirping up at him, “why did you say that like a question? Are you a question? If I question you will you become a sentient question mark?”.

What? Her eyes are way too big and her skin is smooth. It’s… very strange. Then she’s being picked up by the smaller boy- the teenager, that he didn’t even hear approach. “Elle-”. That was strangely chastising to hear from a teen. “-no giving people existential crises”.

“Are question edible?”.

The teen quirks an eyebrow, “I mean probably? if you write them on a piece of paper?”.

“If I write them on apples and pelt doctors with them do you think they’ll anwser my questions without poking me?”

“Eh fuck it, give it a go. Tell me if it works”. Then the teen looks up to Bassel, “sup, I’m Danny, the little brother”.

Bassel nods awkwardly, this kid… was seriously off. His skin was too smooth too, eyes not right and dangerous, his hair seemed… darker than black. The hell is he looking at? “Uh. Bassel? I already said that though. Um, I’m guessing the girls the youngest sibling?”.

She pops out around Danny’s leg, “I’m the granddaughter actually”. Danny snorting, “grand-gremlin is more like it”. She bites the teen… does she have fangs???

Bassel blinks harshly, pointing at the… murderer, “his kid? I take it?”. And now that he’s looking, what the hell is up with how similar they all look???

Dan barks out a laugh, shaking his face off like a dog so hard pieces of green? cookie physically stab into the walls and cupboards, “that shit stain is moms kid, not mine! Holy shit!”.

Danny snapping his head to Dan and pointing aggressively at him, “you”, shrugging and changing tones so fast Bassel nearly gets whiplash, “would have absolute nightmare kids and I would cry if your dumbass is the one to make a grandpa of me. Fuck you”.

Bassel is… very confused.

Mrs. Fenton shouting, “and I don’t want to be a great-grandma! Thank you very much!”, and coming over, Jazz looking to be scowling down at the stove, “hello, I’m doctor Maddie Fenton, feel free to just call me Maddie though”, swatting him on the arm, “none of that Mrs. or Dr. stuff”.

Danny pouting at her, “hey, why does Val still have to call you Mrs then?”.

“Because you two are still teens mister”.

The teen only pouts more…. His eyes look far too glass-like, like he’s a doll. Bassel kind of wants to be no where near him. Eyeing Jazz’s mom, the… hazmat is extremely concerning, maybe he should have asked more about what her parents did for a living? or their hobbies? “You have a doctorate?”.

The woman grinning, “that’s right! Primarily in ecto-ology and clinical laboratory science. but also criminology and medical science. My husband, Jack has doctorates in ecto-ology and clinical laboratory science as well, public health, chemistry, and practical theology”, turning away to eye Jazz, “the Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree”.

“For the millionth time, mom, I’m still not studying ecto-ology; spectral psychology is completely different and that isn’t even my primary field of study”.

Bassel blinks, okay he knew she said her parents were smart but damn. But… ecto-ology? Really? A pseudoscience? Taking that in conjunction with practical theology made some sense, many religions believed in sprits after all, but with medical degrees? With actual scientific degrees? He’d thought Jazz’s spectral psych was a bit odd, especially with the rumours she talked to ghosts which he brushed off, but at least it made sense since she wanted to be a therapist. Many people can use religion and the belief in spirits to help heal after all. “Ecto-ology huh? As your primary? Interesting choice”.

Then Jazz’s dad is on him in an instant, not inhumanely like Danny had been but to see someone so massive move so fast was jarring, “oh! Did Jazzypants not tell you!”, slapping a hand to his chest proudly, “the Fenton’s are a family of ghost hunters!”.

What.

Maddie eyes her daughter, “Jazz”. While Dan out right cackles evilly and Danny wheezes, hands on his knees, “Jazz you dumbass!”.

Bassel blinks harshly, “ghost… hunters?”, o-kay that was… a lot weirder than he expected. Her parents believed… in ghosts and claimed to ‘hunt’ them. No wonder his girlfriend wanted to study psychology, her parents were delusional.

Jazz can tell that her boyfriend absolutely thinks her parents are insane now. Danny eyeing the guy before wheezing more tells her he’s noticed too, walking over to her and patting her on the arm, “he doesn’t believe in ghosts, does he”.

She sighs, “I… don’t think so”.

“HA!”. Oh Dan was just eating this up.

Elle running over with cujo, holding the pup up at Bassel’s face, he looks like he barely resists recoiling, “pet the ghost pup and believe”.

“Why is he green?”.

“Because he’s dead! Dummy!”.

“What”. Then cujo is in his arms, his face is horrified, but he does cautiously pat cujo’s belly. Him stiffening and staring as the dog floats up and starts walking on the ceiling; Elle giggling.

Danny slinking over to the guy while Maddie tries to swat the dog off the ceiling, “yeah, welcome to Amity, famously the most haunted city in the world. And yes, your girlfriend’s parents are the leading ghost scientist of the entire world and sell ghost weapons to the government and general public”, doing jazz hands, “surprise!”.

Bassel hasn’t even made it past the entry way, Jazz feels like an ass for letting him go into this blind. Her shoving Danny away, “don’t be mean”, eyeing Bassel, who’s wide-eyed, “yeah sorry? I did tell you they were weird”.

Bassel eyes Dan standing on the table to pin a fucking green floating dog to the ceiling. Maddie’s holding a strange taser, that has green electricity, threatening the dog; Danny’s dangling off of her arm shrieking about leaving his pup alone and how if anyone’s going to get tased it should be him. Looking back to Jazz, “by weird you mean insane? I’d question the ghosts thing but there’s a floating green dog on the ceiling. Hell, I’m almost questioning my own sanity”.

Jack laughs, rubbing his neck, “oh yeah! We get that a lot! But hey! People stop calling you crazy once they get attacked by a talking five foot tall hornet or a town gets sucked into another dimension!”.

Jazz huffing, “you guys just will not let me live down that stupid hornet, will you”.

Danny shouting, “technically it was a shapeshifting old man! Not a hornet!”, as he runs out of the room with cujo in tow.

Maddie following with the taser, “Danny! he needs to be punished when he does that!”.

“No! Never! Kiss my dead ass!”.

Bassel blinking, “your… brother swears a lot, and wait did he claim to be Dan’s mom? What? I’m sitting down”.

Jazz wincing, “don’t sit on the orange chair, it screams sometimes”. He squeaks an ‘okay’ and sits on the purple couch rubbing his temples; Jazz plopping down beside him.

Dan shouting, “Is anyone gonna eat the ecto-wienies!?!”, from the kitchen.

Jazz scowling to herself before shouting back, “Dan don’t! I dont want Bassel passing out!”.

“That’s the point!”.

She throws her hands up dramatically in fur-station, at least her dad rushes off to stop Dan from consuming screaming hot dogs while their guest adjusts to his new reality.

Bassel groaning, “and why would I pass out?”.

… “They scream too. It’s… pretty freaky to see someone eating squirming screaming hotdogs if you’re not prepared for it”.

“And why do your parents have hotdogs that do that and how even?”.

Jazz shakes her head, “they might have studied clinical laboratory science but they absolutely do not practice good lab safety or sample safety. Things get contaminated accidentally a lot”.

“And that… makes hotdogs able to move and scream?”.

“That about sums it up, yeah”.

“What the actual fuck, babe”.

Then Dan pops over, arms crossed, “thanks Jazz, now gramps has confiscated all my food”.

Jazz pointing at him as he flops down on the same couch as them hard enough to make the couch bounce, “good and could you sit down any harder?”.

“I was aiming to knock you two love birds off”.

“Zone you are such a jerk”.

“I aim to displease”.

Bassel makes an aggressive motion with his hands, not looking at either of them, “okay what the fuck. First how did that not break the couch? Two how is a teen boy mom? And what is wrong with this town and house?”.

Dan snorts and Jazz knows she’s going to hate what comes out his mouth, him eyeing her, “should I tell him there’s a portal to the afterlife in the basement, or should you?”. She slaps him immediately, wincing from the definite sprained wrist she just gave herself; stupid full ghost jerk. He sticks his tongue out at her and she wants to slap him again; at least his tongue isn't forked at the moment.

Jack pops back in carrying Elle by the waist, her arms and legs dangling down as she giggles, “you good, Jazzy?”.

Dan chuckling, “no. She regrets not warning a certain someone”, putting a hand to his chest, “I fully support that fucking chaotic choice”.

Jazz scowling, “you just enjoy seeing people suffer”.

“Hey, if I’m not allowed to kill folks anymore I gotta get my kicks somewhere? Or would you rather I start skinning animals and leaving their flesh hanging from trees?”. Dan gets bashed off the couch by a baseball bat wielding Danny. “Ow! Seriously mom?”.

“Threaten to skin animals for the lols again and I’ll sic Sam on you”.

Dan puts his hands up, “I’ll pass, you kill joy”.

“Good”.

Bassel gags and makes a face at Jazz, gesturing his hands at Dan as Danny smacks him with the baseball bat again, “what”.

“He’s… got a twisted sense of humour?”.

“Not that!”, Bassel shaking his head, “well yes that, what is wrong with that man. But I mean the mom thing?”.

Jazz eyeballs the full ghost, “Dan’s a tough subject, let’s just say a lot of really nasty things happened to him and at least one psychotic break. And he calls Danny ‘mom’ mostly to annoy him”.

“Oh that’s a lot less weird-”.

“Danny kinda is his mom though”.

Basel groans.

Elle pops her head over the couch, somehow escaping Jack’s grasp, “Danny’s uncle is a mad scientist who has no issue dabbling in super evil human experimentation, Dan and me were tots made from Danny via fucked up science and suffering! Hooray for causing mass confusion!”.

Bassel glancing from the small girl to his girlfriend, “seriously?”.

Jazz sighing, “yeah, sorry. Technically that man’s mine and Danny’s god father, not uncle, but Danny likes to bug the man. Vlad… needs so much therapy”.

Danny shouting, “at least he’s got a cat now! Even if he did name her after mom”; while Dan snags the baseball bat and pops Danny on the head with it. Danny bites the baseball bat.

Bassel shakes his head, “so you weren’t kidding about being somewhat related to one of the richest men on the planet, and he’s basically a crazy super villain; great”.

Jack rubs his neck, “unfortunately yeah, I kinda blew up a proto-portal in his face and he didn’t take that well”.

Jazz puts her hands on her hips, leaning forwards a little, “dad, you guys didn’t visit him in hospital even once, for seven years. Of course he didn’t take that well”.

Danny popping out from behind Jack, “he still complains about that, by the by. I dumped get well soon cards on him last time he was whining about it. Asked him if that made up for it, he shouted no and shot me in the foot”.

Jazz shaking her head, “I still don’t get how you two ever get along”.

“Hey, arch enemies gotta have some bonding time sometimes. Plus, he’s got the good liquor and will absolutely try to bribe me with expensive gifts”.

“And I keep telling you that’s unhealthy and you’re only encouraging him”.

Dan chuckling, “let him, who knows, maybe I’ll get another gremlin sibling”.

Basically everyone, even Bassel, shouting, “NO!”.

Maddie getting back towards the kitchen, and bring out what remains of the ghost-shaped cookies, “cookie?”, offering them to Bassel.

… “are they going to start screaming?”.

Maddie blushing immediately, Jazz covering her mouth and laughing, “no. No. Only things that were once alive tend to do that. Baked goods are fine”, eyeing the cookies, “and they’re not green so they’re safe for human consumption”.

He takes a cookie and munches it very cautiously, “and the green ones?”.

Jazz grimacing, “definitely not safe for human consumption”.

Elle nodding, still behind the couch, “those are for us Phantom’s”. Meaning that now Jazz knows Bassel’s basically going to have to deal with finding out her brother and said brothers kids are all varying degrees of dead.

Bassel eyeing the small child, “do I even want to know?”.

Elle gives a cheery, “nope!”.

Oh okay, maybe her, and thusly Bassel, can dodge that whole situation. Jazz absolutely glares daggers at Dan to say nothing. The man grins evilly but remains silent, thank zone for that.

Bassel taking a breath and slapping his legs before standing up, “okay. Alright. You lot are stranger than I expected but I really like Jazz so I’ll deal”.

Maddie looks relieved but Jack booms, “awesome! You seem like a good guy!”, and smacks Bassel so hard on the back that he gets smacked into the floor and knocked out. Dan’s bending over wheeze laughing, Elle’s floated up into the air curled up and laughing, Danny’s run over to try and help the man while also laughing, and Jazz is shaking a finger at her dad angrily.

Maddie sighs, face in a hand, “Jack”; while Danny’s hoisting Bassel up and back onto the couch, smacking his cheeks to get him to come ‘round.

When Bassel comes to he nearly screams, that Danny boy’s face is inches from his own and he’s crouched on Bassel’s chest. How much did this kid weigh??? And damn were his eyes still extremely creepy. At least he’s clued in what was wrong with him, he was uncanny, like he wasn’t quite human but close enough that it was very wrong in that base instinctual way. The teen grins, it’s like his teeth don’t fit in his mouth and the smile is just a hair too wide. “Cool, you’re awake. Was starting to wonder. Dad smacked you into the floor by accident, if you don’t brace yourself when he goes in for back pats then you’ll wind up on the floor”, titling his head owlishly, “lesson learned?”.

Bassel nodding at the kid that hasn’t moved his face out of Bassel’s, “um, yeah?”, frowning, “your guy’s dad is freakishly strong, you know that?”. The boy just shrugs before hopping off Bassel’s chest, letting him sit up and rub his head a little. “Do your parents always wear the hazmats?”.

Danny chuckles, “yup, and they will still claim they are stylish”, rolling his wrist, “they try to get me and Jazz in ‘em all the time. But hey, I’ll stick to wearing that kinda bullshit when I’m dead”.

Jazz’s head pops out of the kitchen entryway, “oh good, you’re up. You up for pie? There’s eight for some reason”.

“Are… they all the same kind?”.

“Sadly, yes”.

Even he can admit that was sad, variety was nice. But Danny pouts at her, “hey, I’m not about to discourage my personal wannabe poacher just because he doesn’t have a single creative bone in his entire metal mecha suit”. What the hell was any of that supposed to mean? This kid was probably one of the most confusing people Bassel’s ever met, Elle being a close second.

“You could at least try to convince him to try lime cream instead of him shoving lemon cream at you three times a year”.

Bassel holds up a hand, “how old are these pies?”. His girlfriend blinks like that hadn’t even crossed her mind… she might be too used to this level of strange perhaps.

Danny waving him off, “oh I helped him find a solid anniversary gift for his girlfriend, which fine was extremely explosive but eh, so he went a little pie happy. They’re two days old”.

“Oh alright, I’ll have some then”; two days wasn’t even weird. That many pies was odd and how he got them was bizarre, but not as bad as a dog walking on the ceiling or Dan-the-psycho talking about skinning animals like it was funny. Him and Danny joining everyone in the kitchen proper finally. The stove is charred from top to bottom, fires were clearly common. The fridge… was glowing? The toaster looks like it’s definitely some kind of project and not safe to use at all. The table is clean at least, besides the cookie crumbs and excessive amount of pies.

Said pie is extremely good, like professional good. Bassel blinking at it, “damn that’s good”.

Danny chirping, like actually chirping, “I know right?”; how does a human mouth make that sound???

“Then why isn’t… Dan eating any?”; maybe evil or not…

Dan flips Bassel off, grabs a slice and proceeds to hurl it at him; Bassel barely ducking in time while Jazz, Maddie, and Danny all shout, ‘NO!’. Elle is giggling though and Bassel would bet money that’s encouraging the man. Danny smashes an entire pie right in Dan’s face in retaliation, Elle smashing a slice on Danny’s head; it just devolves into a full on pie food fight from there.

Jazz crouch walking to avoid splatter while Maddie shoos the three outside with a broom, Jack following while shouting about getting the hose. Jazz putting a hand on his arm, “you good”.

“What twenty something starts a food fight!”, shaking his head, “better than throwing a knife at me I guess”.

“He usually only throws knives at Danny”.

She said that like it was normal! And not at all disturbing or something to be worried about! “He actually throws knives at people!”.

She winces like she just now realised that wasn’t okay, “right. Don’t worry about it, he might make a lot of threats or do threatening stuff but he’s heavily against going back into solitary confinement”, her huffing, “which I still think was cruel, deprivation chambers are one hundred percent a form of torture and no one deserves that”.

“What kind of jail has a freaking deprivation chamber, oh my god”. No wonder that man seemed like he had the socialization skills of a very threatening murderous brick wall.

The two stand up and they can see the three ‘Phantom’s -he’s still confused on that one but too scared to ask- getting hosed off in the front yard by Maddie; Jack’s helping by physically holding Dan up in the air and laughing. What??? Bassel blinks, “no one should be able to lift that beast of a man up like that”.

And then there’s an explosion, Bassel jerking around and Jazz just turning causally to watch purple smoke leak out from what’s labeled as a lab door. Her grabbing him with a quick, “nope”, and dragging him outside.

“What was that?”.

“Don’t know, but I’m not taking the chance that whatever their latest project is is noxious”, then shouting at her mom, “mom! Something blew up in the lab and it’s leaking purple gas!”.

Bassel very strictly remembers her not long ago mentioning that her parents weren’t big on lab safety, noxious though? These people were completely nuts. His nice, level headed, kind, smart, cautious Jazz came from this??? Yes she could be a little neurotic, especially about food and sharps saftey which he absolutely understood now, and she was a little… spooky sometimes. But still! He still didn’t believe her hair was really that orange without her dying it, even if he’d never seen proof of her doing so. And she always had on some black tourmaline or turquoise that she claimed was ‘protection’, he just thought she was being a little spiritual, now it seemed more like this ghost thing.

Danny shakes his wet hair off like a feral dog, “that’s probably my lunch!”.

Jazz throwing her hands up, “why is it leaking purple gas!”. Bassel muttering, “I think it exploding is more concerning than that”. Jazz shaking her head at him, “Danny’s favourite local restaurant has highly explosive trade marked sauce”.

“What!?!”. How was that even legal?

Danny pointing a finger at Jazz’s face as he moves to head inside to… ‘rescue’ his food, “hey, you haven’t had real food till you’ve had a Mighty Meaty Mega Nasty Melt and Phantomized Fries”, shrugging, “and I was trying to make blackened ecto-wine infused bread, for sandwiches”.

Jazz makes a face at the boys retreating back, “ew”.

Bassel blinking, “did, did this restaurant really name a menu item ‘Nasty Melt’?”. He’s revising his previous opinion, this entire town was nuts; not just these people.

Elle, very wet, bounds over, “yup! It’s called the Nasty Burger, used to be Tasty burger but someone vandalized it and there was a vote to just keep the N”, grinning, “I think it’s funny, the sauce is to die for”.

Jazz cringing, “oh no not the death jokes, at least spare my boyfriend those, ugh”. The little girl sticks her tongue out and pouts a little before running back inside at the pies. Jazz going wide-eyed and following with a shout, “oh no you better not! Mom just got you cleaned up! You put that pie down missy!”.

Bassel cautiously sticking his head in, cautious of both fumes and pie, to stare at his girlfriend holding a literal child at gun point while the child menacingly holds a pie over her own head. “um, why are you threatening a child with a gun”.

She brushes him off like this isn’t messed up, “it’s fine, there’s no normal guns in this household”. What does that even mean? Ghost guns? Is that what this is? Is that why it’s slightly glowing green!

Then Dan scares the crap out of him, speaking up from directly behind him, “I wouldn’t worry about it, she’s a terrible shot anyway. She could put a gun directly against someone’s temple and still hit a cars side mirror instead”.

“I’ve gotten better!”.

“No you have not, you managed to shoot a fire hydrant and set it on fire last time; I was impressed”.

“Shut up, Dan”.

“No I don’t think I will”.

At least Danny, who somehow got behind Elle, takes the pie from the girl and wags a finger at her, “repeat chaos isn’t chaos, it’s a pattern”.

“What if I cut off one of my hands, put it in the pie, then smack her with it? Then it would be a pie high five, not a food fight”.

Danny blinks, “I’m stealing that idea for the next time the Lunch Lady throws flaming stoves at me”.

Bassel… Bassel is not questioning that. “Kid, your mind must be a very strange place”. Sure little kids always said odd stuff, things adults wouldn’t even dream of, but this was a special brand of odd.

Dan shoving his way past Bassel, nearly knocking the guy over and giving him some major hebejebes, to go pat Elle on the head in amusement. Maddie steadying him, “you okay? And at least she’s not as bad as Danny used to be”, crossing her arms and shaking her head, “he thought blackbird pie meant to actually find birds and bake a pie with them. It was incredibly disgusting, especially because he didn’t know how to use an oven yet so he maxed out its temp for three hours”.

Oh okay, so Danny was just like that too. What was that about apples and trees? “That… probably could have gone even worse”. The teen, then kid, could have burned the house down!

The woman grumbled, “at least he’s never sucked the house into the mirror dimension, unlike someone”, as she heads in to help Jazz, Danny, Dan, and Elle actually clean up the pie mess. Jack shouting, “I said I was sorry about that!”. Danny shouting back, “at least no one’s pulled a Technus and walked the house into the ocean!”; while Bassel is wondering how the heck the eldest Fenton heard his wife’s grumbling from the other side of the yard.

There was something seriously physically off with all these people. Including Jazz. He’s feeling very distinctly reminded of a lot of things he’s just sort of brushed off or thought nothing of about her before. He used to think a lot about how vibrant her eyes were, or that her teeth were a touch sharp; nothing like the ‘Phantom’s but still. She was amazing at lock picking and could handle ‘practice’ patients others couldn’t; even if she would also ‘force’ therapy on random people sometimes. And eyeing her parents, they’re the same. Intense eyes, oddly pale almost glassy skin, teeth that feel like they’re sharp but aren’t; it’s not uncanny the way those three ‘Phantom’s were, but it’s still odd.

Dan was the worst though, easily, when the man brushed past him it felt like being cornered by massive wolf or mountain lion. If Bassel had ran into that man randomly on the street there’s no way he’d think he was anything close to human. Danny and Elle at least seemed humanish, almost human; Dan just seemed like he was playing pretend.

Bassel shakes himself off before stepping back into the chaotic Fenton household, “am I going to get pie thrown at me again?”.

Danny looks at him, “nope”, then glares at Elle, “or someone’s losing her Switch privileges”; the girl gasps in horror.

See that? That was normal. Normal punishment, normal reaction to a punishment. Perfectly normal. … Then the girl threatens to ‘liquify herself in protest’; goodbye normal, it was nice while it lasted. Either way he moves to help clean up pie a little, speaking back up, “so your bread fine?”.

“It ate itself and imploded, so no”. What. The boy grins cheerily, right too many teeth, “which means it must have tasted good, meaning I’m on to something”.

“I? Guess?”. He’s honestly just trying not to stare at the teens teeth.

…

They somehow do actually make it to the living room to watch a movie. It actually is a weird B list bird horror flic, which feels too normal now and that frankly concerns him. He’s not sure he wants the get used to this level of insanity. He loves Jazz but he is fully intending to potentially never step foot in this building again after this. How was he going to survive here for a week??? Blinking, oh right, elbowing Jazz and whispering, “hey, all the luggage is still in the car right?”. Then Dan scares the crap outta him again, “don’t bother whispering, I can still hear you”. Jazz grabs a random round thing from the floor to smack the man with for that.

Jazz leaning against Bassel again, “the longer we leave it in the car the longer it’ll take to get contaminated or destroyed, I told you not to bring your expensive computer ‘just in case you had time’ for a reason”.

Considering the amount of mess and literal exploding/imploding -again, what???- bread, he could understand that sentiment; oh and the actual guns apparently just lying around. He is very glad he listened to her, that laptop was never setting an inch of its metal casing in this building. He winces, “yeah, thanks for that”. She pats him fondly.

Danny straightens out so fast that it aggressively startles Bassel. “Oh! Think I should invite Val?”, eyeing Jazz smugly, “since someone brought their little lover”.

Jazz scowls at him, “Danny, I think Basel having to put up with my very weird family including the two weirdest members, is more than enough without adding in your trigger happy girlfriend with serious anger management issues. Especially because I know for a fact she won’t agree to leave all her weapons at home”.

Danny looks offended, putting a hand to his chest and paying no mind to the bird-related massacre happening on screen, “I’ll have you know she doesn’t even sleep unarmed, she hasn’t been unarmed since she was fourteen”.

“Exactly”.

You know what? Bassel thinks that actually makes sense. Danny was too strange to date someone remotely normal. “I’m not even surprised, you’re a little too freaky to date someone who’s just, you know, an average person. So sure, date an aspiring cop or whatever”.

Danny snaps and finger guns at him, “think more like nanobot powered teenage ghost hunter with a jet sled”.

What. Bassel blinking, “so somehow you’re the more normal one in the relationship. This girl’s in therapy right”. Jazz actually laughs at that.

Danny screws up his face, “Ancients you sound like Jazz”, looking at her, “he sounds like you”, looking back to Bassel, “and eh, my personality has more sparkles and explosions”, tilting his head, “besides, how am I freaky, besides the gremlin energy and general chaos anyways”.

Dan snorting, “and the fact that you think dumpster chic is a good thing”.

“As if you don’t wear the same”.

“Excuse you, I lift all my clothing off of the finest of corpses”.

Bassel, and Danny for that matter, gag; Danny’s seems more mock dramatic gag though. Bassel shaking his head, “add in the fact that if someone told me you were actually a doll pretending to be human, I’d believe them”.

That gets him multiple odd looks, including from Jazz. No one bothers to pause the movie even though everyone’s attention is now on him as she quirks an eyebrow at him, “what do you mean by that? Sure my little brother can move too quietly or too quickly, and his still too skinny and pale, but I wouldn’t call him possibly inhuman looking”.

Danny points at his face, “I’m pretty sure if I looked legit freaky Dash would mock me relentlessly for it”.

Bassel is baffled, are these people just… used to him so much they don’t notice? And Dan’s just looking to the side snickering meanly, Bassel almost gets the feeling the man knows what he’s talking about. Bassel looking at each of them, “you’re telling me you guys don’t notice his skin looks like weirdly glassy play dough? Or his eyes are too big? That his teeth don’t fit in his face? He’s weighs less than a bag of potatoes!”. They all look very confused and turn to stare at Danny, who shrinks down a little awkwardly; Dan’s laughing is full on guffaws now, head tilted over the back of the chair that apparently sometimes screams. When Elle points at her own face and grins too wide, Bassel nods, “yes, you too. Less than, your uh, dad but still”, gesturing at everyone, “honestly all of you have hair that’s too strongly coloured, overly vibrant eyes, and no skin texture”, scratching his head, “I thought my girl just had a spot on skin care routine and impressive hair colouring technique that she refused to share”. Jazz fiddles with her orange hair a little, making him feel a little guilty. Bassel coughing, “not that I dislike that”. Dan barks out another loud laugh.

Jazz eventually hurling another random Bassel doesn’t know what at the man, “stop laughing! Us looking weird to normal people isn’t funny! You jerk!”.

Oh okay. So they don’t know. That was weird? Does no one in town comment on it? Does no one even notice it? Was everyone in this town that strange??? Or was everyone in town strange looking themselves?

Dan huffing another laugh, “oh it very much is! Especially because I already knew and did in fact tell you morons”, waving a hand around leisurely, “not my fault you shits thought I was just being an ass”. Bassel guesses it makes sense that the strangest and most startling looking -and feeling, frankly- one would be the one to notice.

Danny looks offended, “and how do you know this? The fuck Dan”.

The man scowls meanly, it’s very mocking, “oh I don’t know, maybe because I spent ten years travelling the globe randomly killing people? Maybe that’s it? I’m the only fucker here who’s done enough travelling to tell people find this face”, gesturing at his face and smirking, “alarming, and not just because I was usually either threatening to kill or trying to kill them”.

“What? you walked around with that face?”.

“Eh I got bored of the other one sometimes”.

Bassel is choosing to ignore part of this conversation, otherwise he’s not going to get over his girlfriend being related to what’s sounds like more ‘mass murderer’ than ‘single murderer’. Not to mention that he doesn’t want to know what is meant by the murderer having different ‘faces’. He doesn’t want to know if this man’s a real life leather face.

Elle pouts, “I travel a lot, no one tells me I look weird?”.

“Sis, you’re a kid, all little brats look fucking weird”.

The little girl giggles, earning a fond but very quick look from the large man. At least it seemed like he actually liked his family maybe.

Danny gestures at nothing and scowls at Dan, “Dan, you’re a six foot eleven wall of muscle with a face that’s default setting is evil smirk, of course people think you look scary!”.

“Oh people found me disturbing when I was wearing your skin too, mom”.

“Fuck you”.

Bassel forces himself not to ask how that’s even possible. ‘Wearing the skin’ of someone who still has their skin is impossible and not to mention the size difference, it wouldn’t fit; why is he even thinking about the logistics of this?!? Ew!

Jack scratches his head, “while I can’t say I see, I doubt you’re making stuff up”, looking at Maddie, “all the ecto you think?”.

The mother nods to herself, tapping her chin, “there’s not much else it could be, especially if our oddness is merely tamer versions of Danny’s and the grandkids”.

Bassel is lost, looking to Jazz and quirking an eyebrow. She cringes, “Danny has a very intense version of ecto-contamination”. She says that like it’s not extremely weird and concerning.

Danny chuckling, “if by that you mean I’m fucking half dead then yeah”.

Jazz swats him, “Danny! For zones sake!”.

“Hey!”, Danny sticks his arms out nearly smacking multiple people, “if I’m that freaky looking then there really isn’t a point, Jazz!”.

“I hate that you’re right!”, Jazz huffing while Bassel is officially realising that everyone just shouts at each other in this house, regardless of if they’re happy or mad or excited. Her turning to him, “my brother’s a bit dead”.

Bassel absolutely squawks at that, “what”. And then suddenly the kid’s glowing and his eyes are green, the actual hell? Elle leaning forward, sticking her tongue out and pointing at her face, also with green eyes and glowing. Bassel cautiously and slowly eyeing Dan, his eyes flash blood red and yup, glowing.

Okay. Alright. He’s in a room full of glowing people, what is he supposed to do with this? He officially thinks that anyone who has ever found out someone else wasn’t quite human in a movie was way too damn calm about it!

Jazz winces a little, she can tell her boyfriend has absolutely no idea how to react to his girlfriend's glowing family members, so she pats his shoulder, “is it weird? Yes. Am I glad my brother is only partially dead? Absolutely. Don’t worry about it?”.

He blinks owlishly at her, clearly freaked out, “it’s kinda hard not to worry about my sister having dead family members kicking around and her whole family including her being contaminated by ghost stuff enough to alter their appearances”.

Then Danny goes and opens his stupid mouth, holding up a still glowing finger, “technically, Dan’s the only one that’s totally dead. Me and Elle are still alive-ish”.

Bassel blinks again and asks something that Jazz really wishes he didn’t, “and why’s he the dead one?”, in a squeaky voice; the movie is absolutely long forgotten at this point.

Dan’s smirk is flat out evil and before anyone can stop him he responds, “oh only because I got my human shit torn out and disemboweled it. Ate half my uncle and flew off into the sunset”.

Bassel leans so far away he nearly falls off the couch, “what. The. Fuck”. While everyone else, even Elle, chastisingly shouts, “DAN FENTON!”, at the smirking full ghost. The tact on that jerk! The only tact he had was evil tact, that sought chaos and destruction!

“OoOooOOoOO, full name, I’m So HuRt. I’m So UtTeRlY aPoLoGeTiC. Truly”. The ass doesn’t mean a damn word of that and he wants them to know it. He smirks, “if we want to play that game I can just show him what I really look like”.

Danny standing up and pointing at Dan, “do that and I’m souping you”. Dan puts an offended hand to his chest and scowls deeply.

Bassel sputters, “I am never asking you people questions again, oh my god”.

Jazz can’t even blame him, even if she knows he eventually will ask more questions about, well, their everything. It was hard not to after all. She rubs his arm, “you really shouldn’t think about it too hard or worry, yes we’re used to it and know the admittedly weird science behind it”, cringing, “even if apparently only one of us was aware none of us looked normal”.

He blinks harshly, swallowing, “uh huh. You guys have a bathroom, right. Because I definitely need to decompress by staring into the mirror for a concerning length of time”.

Not good. Jazz wincing and getting up, “I’ll show you”, then pausing and eyeing Danny, “is the bathroom actually clean”.

Danny tilts his head and grimaces, also not good, “maybe don’t open the lower left cupboard”.

“Right”. Damn it, Danny. Pulling Bassel along as they head upstairs, “okay so listen to him and don’t get curious. He might have spilled something and not cleaned it so it’s gotten moldy. Or he shoved goddamn bandaging under there. Or there’s a ghost trapped in the cabinet”.

“I… kind of hate that I’m hoping it’s the first one”.

“Well considering it’s Danny, it’s probably the second. He gets injured a lot and has a non-existent biohazard safety mindset”, gesturing at the open bathroom, “anyway, here”.

… “is Danny why the shower floor looks bloodstained, wait never mind I don’t want to know”.

She gives him a supportive shoulder pat as he goes in and close the door almost hard. This… this has not gone well. At least he hasn’t ran out screaming? Yet anyways.

She heads back down stairs, pointing at Dan, “I’m blaming you, because it is your fault”, pointing at Danny, “and yours, because you somewhat made him”.

“Hey! He made himself!”.

“And he is you so my point still stands”.

“Jazz!”.

Jazz doesn’t really care that being reminded of that fact bothers her little brother, him and his off shoots have basically been terrorising her boyfriend. He should be bothered! “I am gonna be so mad at you if he decides this is too much”. At least everyone winces apologetically, except Dan who just glances away which was the closest he usually came to a ‘sorry’.

Jack rubs his neck, “sorry, Jazzy-pants. Want us to bring your guy’s stuff in?”.

She scowls, she’s not going to effectively trap her boyfriend here by doing that, “considering I don’t even know if he wants to stay here now, no dad”. Her dad winces further, good.

She sighs, flopping back down on the couch, “let’s just rewind and finish the movie. Like normal people”. Dan snorts at her and she glares bloody murder at him.

Okay. So. His girlfriend’s family are not ‘weird’, rather they are actually insane and physically impossible. Which is extremely not okay. But he likes Jazz, a whole lot actually. A ton even. She was odd but not insane or too physically impossible; and she didn’t live here, he wouldn’t have to see these people -especially Dan- often. A handful of times a year at best right now. Hell she might be annoyed enough to ban that Dan guy from being within ten feet of him; Bassel would not complain about that. Her parents at least seemed harmless, over enthusiastic and strange but acceptable. However he knew for a fact that him liking or not liking her parents didn’t mean much, she’s made it clear that she doesn’t think too highly about their opinions. Her brother though, he knows she loved that kid, sometimes she made it sound like she was more his parent than their parents were. Said brother was half freaking dead. Because apparently ghosts are a real thing and can just walk around the living like it’s nothing… and also apparently being half alive was a remotely possible thing. Also Danny, a teen, has kids. Two kids. One who’s clearly older than him and committed a likely extremely disturbing amount of murder.

Well…

They’re not Jazz’s kids. So he, maybe? won’t have to deal with them much. Jazz seemed surprised they were even here after all. Alright. Okay. He can deal with this.

That’s frankly a lie.

But he can at least manage and pretend he’s cool. Then, when they go back to uni he can have a mild freak out in his dorm room and their relationship can go back to sort of normal. He is absolutely going to ask about her ‘ecto-contamination’? later though, and if those stories about her ‘communing with ghosts’ were actually true and was she just talking to her brother or was she also talking to other ghosts.

Pushing himself off of the sink he’s been leaning on and slapping his cheeks, “you got this, man”. His reflection does not copy him.

What the actual hell is wrong with this place? Besides the apparent portal to the afterlife in the goddamn lab. How did these people break a mirrors ability to mirror? Shaking his head and pulling out his phone, okay he’s looking these people up, like he goddamn should have already.

…

Okay yeah they just are fully public with the ghost hunting thing huh? That must have been fun to grow up with. Jazz did say she tried to separate herself as much as possible from them as a teen, this is absolutely why. And apparently her brother saved an entire species of gorillas? By… climbing in one’s cage… so he’s just always been crazy and reckless, got it; but hey, at least the gorillas aren’t extinct now.

Bassel’s not surprised that looking up Elle gets him nothing, she’s a young child after all, but Dan? For a supposed murderer there isn’t even a single result about him. No wiki article, no victim impact statements, no mugshot, no public court files, no morally questionable serial killer podcasts, nothing. Weird. But he’s absolutely not asking the man about that, because he doesn’t know what kind of nightmarish response he’s going to get. Considering his age -aka, being literally older than his freaking parent- it might be some sort of time travel thing, which he mildly hates the entire notion of, especially since he’s not going to claim he knows what’s possible or not now.

After all, his reflection is still just ‘standing’ there staring at him while he’s been pacing back and forth staring at his phone. He’s not googling his girlfriend of course, that would be creepy, but what about the ‘Phantom’ thing? That… that gets a lot of results. Freaky ones.

…

So…

Apparently…

This town has a goddamn dead superhero? That’s a freaking colour inversion of Danny with green eyes and also named Danny? Which there is no way that’s ’just a coincidence’. So Jazz’s brother is kind of dead, has an ‘arch enemy’, and is almost definitely some kind of dead superhero. Cool. That’s… that’s not completely insane at all. He officially feels like he’s in a knock off marvel movie with a secret identity reveal and everything.

And oh hey! Girl in red on a jet sled, Danny’s girlfriend, also definitely a superhero. Cool. This is Hell.

… Based on all the photos and videos of full blown super powered fights this town might actually be part of hell or an afterlife full of apparently violent dead people. No wonder Jazz was leery of him so much as visiting her home town, nonetheless her parents. A google of the stats shows that these ‘ghost attacks’ happen multiple times a day and it looks like they sometimes did a concerning amount of damage. Also the mayor is that Vlad guy? The evil uncle god father arch enemy guy. Why? How even? … It was probably mind control. Oh he kind of hates this.

Also though, how the heck was this town and this whole ghosts and a death dimension situation, not known about world wide?!? If it’s some kind of government suppression of information he’s going to scream; not actually scream just… internally scream. You’d think this would be something that’s in national news, an actual real life superhero and villains, another dimension, the afterlife… Okay perhaps being super public about an after life could cause some issues among religious groups.

Then his reflection growls at him.

Nope.

He’s not dealing with that.

He’s out of the bathroom in two seconds flat, practically rushing down the stairs, wheezing. Everyone, but Dan, is on the couch again apparently finishing the bird movie; Dan is just outright nowhere to be seen which he is a-okay with. “My reflection growled at me”. Jazz buries her head in her hands, this was obviously not how she wanted this first meeting to go; it wasn’t how he wanted it to go either, but he didn’t know it going this absurdly was even possible. Meanwhile Maddie and Danny shout, “JACK!”, clearly thinking the mirror is his fault. Wasn’t something about him going to the mirror dimension mentioned earlier? or is he just starting to come up with his own crazy possibilities.

The large man runs his neck, laughing, “whoops! Must have grabbed the wrong mirror!”.

“Wrong? Mirror?”. Damn right, he said he was done asking these people to explain literally anything.

Bassel eyeballing Jazz’s dad as he gets up and begins to move upstairs, “ah yeah, Danny-boy head-butted the old one so it had to be replaced, musta got the new mirror and the dimensional mirror mixed up!”.

Why is this kid head-butting mirrors and why does this family just have a ‘dimensional mirror’? Ugh, Bassel’s poor head. Jazz apparently has these same questions, or one of them at least, as well as the willingness to ask it. “Little brother? Why were head-butting the mirror? Young Blood isn’t trying to give you another nervous breakdown, is he?”; Bassel can practically feel the worry in her voice.

Danny scowls dramatically, “I’m fine, Jazz. No need to psycho babble me, Ancients. Skulker just decided that tooth brushing time was good head shooting time, I confiscated his right arm for that and he didn’t get it back for three days”, the kid looks proud of himself, “he hasn’t attacked me in the bathroom since”.

Bassel blinks, slightly horrified, Danny what? stole some… ghosts arm? as punishment? “Uh, I’m pretty sure a supposed superhero teen is not supposed to go around stealing people’s limbs”. Jazz groans very loudly and very tiredly.

Danny laughs, “oh! You looked me up huh? Don’t worry, I only took his mecha bodysuits arm, not his actual real arm”.

That’s… stranger but better. Then Elle pipes up, “even if he had it wouldn’t matter! See-”.

“NO!”.

Bassel is not going to ask why Danny just grabbed both of her wrists and glared at her. He has absolutely learned that if someone, or everyone, shouts ‘NO’ at someone else then he absolutely did not want to know why. Instead he watches his girlfriend get up and smile very awkwardly at him, he’s unpleasantly aware of the fact that her teeth were probably whiter than they should be, “you okay? Are we good?”.

“Absolutely not, but yes, yes we’re alright. I am absolutely not visiting here frequently though. And if Dan ever shows up anywhere near my dorm I’m hitting him with a frying pan immediately”.

She actually chuckles at that, “that’s fair, I tried to shoot him when we first met and tried to hit him with the creep stick the second time”. He’s not going to ask what a creep stick is, but he’s glad she had the sense to hit someone who’s clearly dangerous. “But call if he does do something that stupid, which he shouldn’t if he knows what’s good for him. He will only laugh if you hit him with a frying pan”.

Maddie shaking her head and getting up, “I’ve done that a time or two, he has a habit of trying to sneak food or add poisons just to see if he can get away with it”. Bassel doesn’t have words to express how concerning that is. “And I’m sorry this hasn’t been the best impression, it’s also unfortunately not the worst either though”. Oh. This could be worse? How? Blowing up the house? Hospitalising him? Probably!

Elle sticks a star sticker on him, “congratulations! For passing the weirdness tolerance test!”, looking back at Danny, “am I allowed to try and bite him now?”.

“No, you little shit”, Danny grumbling, “teething preteens are the worst”.

Wasn’t teething supposed to be something babies did? He wants to ask but nope, he’s not going there.

Then Jack’s voice startles him a good bit, “Your reflection must have been staring at you for a while there, buckeroo! Had to really shake it to get him to go away”.

Man was Jack ever a loud guy. Bassel chuckling awkwardly, “yeah I was a little preoccupied and choosing to ignore the insane broken mirror”.

Dan has apparently come back, “ha! You’re lucky your reflection didn’t try to reach through the mirror and strangle you”.

Bassel is not asking. Bassel is not asking. Bassel is not asking. But note to self, do not ignore sentient reflections that move of their own accord. Jazz even shakes her head, “okay that wasn’t the smartest decision you could have made, but I get it”, and she gestures at the couch, “want to finish the movie? Then we can get our stuff in?”.

He sighs, tired, “yeah, yeah, that’s… that’s good”. Just let everything else be normal, or as normal as it can be with the literal walking dead being in the room. Elle grabs him and Jazz before dragging them to the couch, the child is way too strong.

Jazz can practically feel the relief in her bones when they make it through the rest of the movie without anymore incidents, everyone getting up and Jack grabbing a scowling disgruntled Dan to help bring stuff inside. Dan grumbling, “I feel the need to point out that Danny is just as strong as me even if he looks like a damn beanpole”.

Danny shouting, “you mean I’m stronger than you! And hey! I’m lean!”, after them.

Bassel quirking an eyebrow at Jazz, her shaking her head with a small smile, “ectoplasmic energy counts for more than physical appearances with ghosts, my little brother might still be a child and thusly hasn’t hit his growth spurt yet, but he can absolutely take his kid down a peg or two”. And he absolutely loved to pester Dan about that fact, while Dan loved to pester Danny about still being ‘puny’.

Dan growls from the garage doorway, “You lot would be dead otherwise and you know it”.

Jazz rolls her eyes, “maybe at one point but we’ve grown on you, don’t lie mister”. The full ghost only grumbles incoherently in response.

Of course her dad tries to open the trunk before Bassel can unlock it, resulting in him picking the car up, Dan having to catch the car when the trunk opens taking dad’s grip with it. Dan chuckling, “normally I’m the one who’s into picking up vehicles”.

Dad chuckling himself, “yeah and you usually throw them when you pick them up!”.

Bassel shakes his head as the full ghost sets his car on the ground fully, “do not throw my car, do all of you just have super strength”.

Jazz facepalms when her dad tilts his head like a puppy, “little cars like these aren’t that heavy though? I could have lifted this back in my college years even”. Bassel looks baffled when she glances at him.

Jazz sighing at her dad, “Dad, your parents were ghost hunters too, you’ve probably been contaminated your whole life, like me and Danny”.

“Oh right! Ha! I forgot about that! Silly me!”.

Bassel shakes his head in disbelief but takes a few of his things instead of letting the two much larger men carry everything. Jazz makes zero attempt to help Dan with any of it, her sticking her tongue out him instead. He snickers at her, “really taking the higher road here, aunty”.

“Like you’re one to talk”.

“The high road and I are incapable of coexistence”.

“Exactly”.

At least it seems like Bassel is fondly amused with their bantering, instead of disturbed, as they move from the garage and up to her old room/the spare room. Her eyeing her mom while the three men set things down in the room, “so where are Elle and Dan staying?”.

Dan scoffing from inside the room, “you say that like I sleep at all”. She studiously ignores him.

Her mom humming, “why don’t you ask Elle? Because I’m not sure”. And Elle pops out from behind Maddie, “we’re not. Grandma Pandora’s supposed to give me some sword fighting lessons!”, pouting, “and I gotta practice if I ever want to beat pops someday”.

Danny can be heard shouting, “like that’ll ever happen!”, from somewhere; and the little missy is off like a rocket after her dad probably to tackle him.

Dan growling, “if you try to make me organize your guys shit I’m going to intentionally remove every screw, battery, and third paper from everything I can get my claws on”, before Jack laughs and pushes the ghost out of the room. Dan eyeing Jazz, “and if you’ll remember, I’m not ‘allowed’ to be out past sunset”.

Ah right, she did actually forget about that. “Serves you right”. As he heads down and back to the living room he sticks his tongue out at her, it absolute is forked this time.

Bassel popping his head out of the room, “you want your studies and research notes left on the night stand? And remind me why we’re staying inside this strange house instead of a hotel, there’s… mold with eyes I think, in the corner”. Her wincing, “because the hotel has mandatory waivers and doesn’t allow Fenton’s”, then nodding up at him, “yeah my stuff’s fine there, don’t put anything in the drawers, sometimes stuff just vanishes inside for an unknown reason”. Based on him ducking back in immediately, he had in fact put some stuff inside a drawer and the sigh of relief and her dads light hearted laughter tells her that whatever it was was still there. At least some things were going right.

And then it promptly goes horribly wrong as soon as Bassel comes out to go back downstairs with her. A massive black star speckled ghost phasing their way down through the goddamn ceiling, Bassel going stalk stiff while Jazz dashes up the steps with him in her grasp and ducks both of them into the bathroom. Bassel sticking his head out of the bathroom while crouching just like her and whispering, “was that thing a freaking ghost? What the hell, babe”.

Her basically hissing at him, “yes, and a very powerful one”. Bassel grumbling, “I think today hates us”. She whole heartedly agrees.

Meanwhile the ghost is shouting, “PHANTOM! I request your aid!”, and from her and Bassel’s bathroom vantage point it looks like the ghost just got punched in their masked face -based on them being pushed back out of the kitchen entry way with a hand to their face- by Dan, who stomps out snarling, all fang but thankfully still human-looking, “wrong one, you sleepy ass”.

Starry sleep ghost… starry sleep ghost… ah right! Their name was Nocturne right? Her little brother did try to get her to remember the names of the more important ghosts after all. “Nocturne?”.

Oh she shouldn’t have said anything. The ghost looks to her and ‘brightens up’ in that cruel looking way many ghosts do, them promptly stretching and looming their body up and head over her and Bassel, “ah, young Phantom’s brethren. Do you know as to where I can find the one that will not attempt to eat beings of ancient malevolence?”. Bassel is shaking and she’s worried he’s going to pass out.

Dan rams a clawed hand into the ghosts body, “I’m true malevolence, mother fucker. Get back here”.

Thankfully Danny -in his ghost form unfortunately- pops in before Dan can do something stupid, “Dan! Leave the freaking god of sleep alone! Oh my Ancients!”. Him pointing at Nocturne’s face as the ghost moves down to him completely ignoring Jazz and Bassel now, “what the zone, Nocturne? You can’t just bust into my lair core whenever you feel like it just because I don’t get enough damn sleep”.

The ghost holds up a finger, “ah but that is hardly the reason for my arrival, I have seemed to ‘fucked up’, as you would say, to an unfortunate degree”.

Danny sighs and sags his entire body, floating in the air, “ugh, what did you do?”.

“I acquired-”.

Danny interrupting immediately, “You mean stole”.

“I acquired some eternal gardenia from FungalLung, they have now beset my domain with pink dew and blood blossom seeds”.

“Why the actual crap would you steal from that split personality psycho? There’s a reason no one goes near that kids garden”.

“I had a need for such things, as someone-”.

“Oh no, no blame game bullshit outta you, shit ass”.

“Our king needs to be-”.

“Needs to be allowed to have a bit of goddamn fun and some breaks, that’s what he needs. Now play guide, you reckless starry blanket”, Danny eyeing Dan, “Dan. Let. Go”.

Dan flinching and doing as he’s more or less commanded to. Scoffing, crossing his arms, and moving back into the kitchen with a tense, “whatever”.

Bassel wheezes when the ghost and her brother disappear through the floor, Jazz standing up fully and pulling him along with, “great. Just great. Love it. What next? An invasion?”.

Elle hums, “I mean, I could ask mythic grandma if she’s up for one”.

Jazz and Maddie both pointing at her aggressively with matching, “absolutely not”’s. Making the girl giggle. Jazz looking back to Bassel, “I promise you’re okay and not about to get attacked. Are you feeling okay?”.

“I am ten seconds away from wanting to lay on the carpet and scream cry into it, and I am positive I need a shock blanket”.

At least she doesn’t even have to ask her mom to get one for her to rush off and do so, Jazz and Maddie herding him into the spare room wrapped up in a Fenton ghost proof shock blanket in record time. Jazz nodding softly at her moms apologetic look and gesturing for her to leave them be, dad following his wife out with an exaggerated wince.

She shuffles up next to him and rubs his arm from over the blanket, effectively side hugging him, “okay so you’ve properly seen your first ghost, and they were unfortunately one of the non-human ones; but, Nocturne is quite safe actually, more a neutral being than malicious”.

He nods a little.

“They do tend to harass my brother a lot since they care a lot about sleep and he doesn’t get nearly enough of it”, shaking her head and laughing lightly a little, “and yes, what Danny said is true, they are for all accounts and purposes the god of sleep”, sighing, “nearly every god worshiped through out history is real and, yes, a ghost”.

He swallows, pulling the blanket around himself more, “that’s… kind of insane and a lot”.

Jazz nods more so to herself, she had a hard time swallowing that herself as a teen, “I know. I still find it a bit baffling myself and it is extremely strange actually meeting any of them”.

“At… at least you actually seem weirded out. Everything… else doesn’t seem to be, uh, strange, to you”.

“I’m used to it, more than I’d really like to be. I definitely wi- would prefer if my family was more normal, even marginally. And I’d rather my brother not be wrapped up in all this the way he is. Even Dan and Elle often feel that way, even if they wouldn’t exist if he wasn’t involved so heavily in everything”.

“That’s, concerning, actually”.

Jazz pats his arm some, “they haven’t had the best existences”.

Dan then startles her, voice coming through the door, “and there’s the simple fact that everyone would be better off if I never existed”.

Jazz sighing to herself and looking to the door, “Dan that’s not true”.

“And that’s crap and you know it, don’t bullshit me Jazz”; it sounds like he’s stomped off. She’s… going to have to talk to him later.

Bassel shivers, “he’s got a lot of… issues, huh”.

Jazz sighing and nodding, closing her eyes, “if people tell you you’re a monster enough that becomes all that you are and healing becomes nearly impossible”, shaking her head and looking at him, he’s watching her intently, “Elle and Danny are good for him but his emotions don’t work like they’re supposed to because of what happened to him. He’s also partly being pissy because Danny genuinely scolded him. Anyone exerting their power over him tends to rile him up, whether he wants it to or not”.

“Part of him being a, uh, ghost?”.

She nods, “yup. Though I doubt talking about Dan is great for you right now”.

Bassel looks away and stares forwards, “no, probably not”, shaking his head and readjusting into the blanket, “… that, ghost, called your brother a king, didn’t they”.

Jazz shrugs, “he tires not to let it get to his head”.

He shakes himself a little, shaking his head slowly side to side, “yeah no, I’m not pushing. Though is that why he feels like death, the pressure of death at least, when he looks all black and white”.

“I… if he feels like that I’ve never noticed, sorry. But I was living with him when that change happened so it very well might have happened slowly, over time”.

“I guess that makes sense, it almost felt hard to breathe when his voice got… thick? at Dan”.

Jazz blinks, nodding immediately, “ah that’s actually a specific power he has. He mostly just uses it to get across that he’s not playing around, that he’s being serious”.

“Effective”.

Jazz nods slowly, letting him just breathe for a bit. She guesses she can understand how her brother can be a bit much, and it was definitely for the best that Bassel found out before a ghost crashed the party that her brother was a ghost himself. Then he speaks up again, “you’re entirely alive, right? I know you have a lot of spooky rumours that follow you and, like I said, you do look off. So, you’re not a ghost, right?”.

Jazz is tempted to laugh, instead she just shakes her head, “no, not even a little bit”.

“Good. That’s good”.

She just hums, nodding to herself. Waiting for him to work through his own head. Hearing about ghosts and seeing one were very different things, and an Ancient was hard to run into no matter what Danny said. She swears it’s like he forgets that he is in the same sort of classification as them. But at least it seems like Bassel’s handling it better than many do, better than most non-Amity Parkers at least. And then her dad goes and bangs the door open, nearly making Bassel fling himself off of the bed, “I made hot chocolate!”.

“Dad! He’s trying to wind down! Not get the zone scared out of him!”.

Her dad wincing, “ah sorry, Jazzy”, holding up the two cups, “hot chocolate?”, and tilts his head to the side.

Jazz sighs, side eyeing Bassel to make sure he isn’t going to freak out further before getting up and grabbing the cups, “I know you mean well, dad, but you’re still a very loud, very large, presence”.

He rubs his neck and laughs awkwardly, tilting sideways enough to look at Bassel. Giving her boyfriend a thumbs up, “you kids get settled, no funny business”.

“Oh my zone!”, she shoves him out with a foot, barely managing not to spill, and kicks her door shut. At least she manages to give Bassel the hot chocolate gently, “that man, I swear”.

Bassel genuinely laughs though, staring at the hot chocolate in his hands, “that was so utterly normal dad behaviour though, it’s grounding actually”.

Huh. Guess he actually did a good job. “Then I owe him an apology”. She makes her sip on the hot chocolate -that’s already been adequately cooled, thanks dad genuinely- loud, purely to encourage Bassel to drink his.

He notices the cooled temp too, “he waited till it was cool but not too cool, huh?”.

“Yeah. He’s a bit of a fool and reckless but he cares a lot and has a good heart that’s as big as he is”.

Bassel humming and they sit in silence for a bit until, “is your brother going to be okay? I know I called him a superhero and google seems to say he is but…”.

“Oh superhero is very accurate by human standards, but by ghosts he’s basically normal. Behaviour wise at least. Most of the time”, shaking her head, “he’ll be fine, even if it sounds like he might wind up with a case of Blood Blossom poisoning again”.

“Let me guess, ghost poison?”.

“Yup”.

“That’s absurd”, and he sips at his hot chocolate some, “he’s not going to vomit on the floor is he?”.

Okay she can’t help but laugh at that, shaking her head, “no, no, more coughing fits, aches and pains, and muscle spasms. That’s only because he’s alive enough to not be fully affected”.

“Hence why this powerful ghost came for his help?”.

Jazz nodding, “hence why a powerful ghost came for his help”, tilting her head, “though if I remember right pink dew is a psychedelic, so he also might be high when he gets back”.

“Oh god, I don’t think that kid should ever do drugs. Being near your entire family is like being on drugs”, sticking his arms out of the blanket and gesturing the mug around, “if I woke up in the morning and was told this was all one big fever dream, I’d believe it”.

“That’s understandable. Which is why the rest of the world considers this town a hoax”.

“Yeah I was wondering about that”, he downs a considerable amount of his drink, “you’d think the whole world would know about this. But I guess that would cause an uproar”.

Jazz sighing, almost annoyed, “yeah, the government does try to keep a lid on everything”.

“God damn it. Seriously? Ugh. I hate that I called ‘government cover up’ as the why”.

“There’s more to it but the rest is a lot weirder to the point where even I don’t want to think about it. It’s actually in the category of too weird”. Her little brother mind wiping an entire planet after fighting a reality controlling clown that turned roads into rollercoasters and made him fight a fire breathing clown and a lava pit full of rubber ducks, was so many steps past extremely strange.

Bassel full body cringing, “then I definitely don’t want to know. I do want to know if the stories about you communing with ghosts in your dorm are true though, and if your dorms is ‘contaminated’”, looking down at the cup, “and we should thank your dad for this. It was pretty good”.

Jazz blushes a little, “they’re true, even ghosts need therapy and I don’t need my license to give it to them. Sometimes it is just Danny though, and I’m good about keeping on top of decontamination, so don’t worry about that”, then eyeing him, he still seemed a little out of it and shocky but he was definitely better and really there was no normalising or rationalizing her family, “we’ll go down and thank him if you’re alright”.

He nods down at the cup and to himself, then looking at her with a nod and shaking smile, “I’m going to be digesting all of this for days at least, but I’m okay, babe. I absolutely hope today was the weirdest day of this week visit though”.

Jazz hums, standing up and offering him her mug-free hand, “well Dan will avoid Danny for at least a full day and Pandora will keep Elle busy for at least three; so there won’t be their chaos for a little while. As for literal gods showing up, that happens so seldom that I genuinely believe that Johnny’s Shadow might’ve snagged us some bad luck on the way into town”.

“Johnny’s Shadow?”.

Oh maybe she shouldn’t have brought that guy up. Wincing, “um, Shadow is basically Johnny’s pet or familiar? And Johnny is a ghost I may have dated? Once? He wasn’t genuine about it, and I was a dumb teenager who feel for his stupid motorbike and bad boy vibes”.

He actually snickers at her, before laughing fully and having to put the mug to the side to avoid spilling it, “I! Can not believe how stereotypical! That is!”, shaking his head and wheezing, eyeing her, “straight laced, honor role daughter falls for a motorcycle riding bad boy who’s all charm and bad intentions”.

She smacks his arm, “don’t be mean”, she doesn’t mean it at all though, “and Danny actually dated his girlfriend, she was trying to make Johnny jealous”.

“So what I’m getting here is ghosts are seriously just goddamn people, some are just very extra”.

“That’s one way to put it, yeah. Or they’re more like animals”.

Bassel blinks as they shuffle out of the room, “oh thats right, the green dog, where’d he? go?”.

Jazz snorts, “Danny sent him back to, well, the other side as it were; since mom was trying to taser him”. He was always so protective of that dog, even if said dog caused so many issues.

“That did seem a bit excessive”.

“Oh absolutely not, that dog is an actual menace”.

“I’m just going to take your word for it”.

They pop into the kitchen, she’s not surprised both Dan and Elle are gone. “Thanks for the hot chocolate, dad”. Bassel nodding, “yeah, it was really good, thank you”.

Her dad gives a goofy thumbs up, “glad you liked it!”. And she thinks everything might just be okay.

Bassel’s not really sure what to do about all of this. What he does know is that he’s better off not thinking about it and not trying to actually figure out what to do about all of this. He knows Jack Fenton cares a lot, makes good hot chocolate, he’s loud and big, and sure he’s a little off and too strong but he actually is like a puppy. Maddie Fenton was a lot softer, a lot more aware that her family was odd, more socially adept, but she was also more threatening and quick to fight; strange and off as well but she came off as more normal than her husband. Danny was… a nightmare, full stop, he’s a little worried what kind of friends the teen had that could put up with him. He was borderline actually insane, but from what Bassel saw on his google trip he also was a genuinely good kid. Bassel’s fairly certain that even if the world turned against him he’d still fight to save it; that took a level of sheer determination and heart that Bassel probably didn’t have himself. Elle was just a weird kid with too lax and strange of a parent, she might stand a chance at being almost normal someday. Maybe. Dan was an utter psycho though, he honestly can not think of a redeeming quality for that one. Doesn’t even want to try. Because excusing a murderer was not a line he feels like toeing. Jazz says Dan wouldn’t hurt any of them and does love them, but he’s not sold on that; it seemed more likely that she just didn't want to admit that the man was simply an awful unkind corrupt person.

And Jazz?

Well, his opinion honestly hasn’t changed. She’s still awesome, beautiful, caring, neurotic, a worrier, and slightly strange. He wants to think she’d be the same, though maybe less strange, even if she had a perfectly normal and average family. He wasn’t about to let odd family break them up, even if it was the kind of odd normally reserved for tv shows and the weird comics you find at truck stops that are filled with plot holes and questionable narrative direction. Either way he’s sticking around, so long as he can actually physically survive a week in this place.

Him watching as Danny, covered in some kind of clear goo or slime, kicks open the lab door with blown out pupils and a gnarly rash on half his face. “I! Never want to see! Another! Fucking! Person with me damn mushroom eyes again! I feel! Disgusting! Bleh!”, sticks out his tongue and then faceplants onto the floor groaning; the slime stuff splatters around a bit.

Bassel blinks, “um, should someone drag him up to the bathroom or something?”. Then the kid sprouts another set of goddamn arms and hands out of his back and proceeds to dragging himself across the floor and up the stairs with them. “Never mind, what the hell. I never want to see that again”.

Jazz sighs, rinsing out their cups, “he’s definitely high, don’t touch the goo trail”, moving to get the biohazards mop and bucket, “Danny can be a bit of a jerk with the body horror stuff but he usually reserves it for people he knows can handle it”.

“That’s… good. Dear god”.

And then… Danny??? runs up the lab stairs, “did anyone see a body of mine”.

Jazz throws the mop at him and yelps, “what the Zone! Danny?”, making faces at him and pointing at the stairs that still has a slime trial on it, “I have some serious questions”.

He blinks at her, “rogue duplicate”, and runs towards the stairs.

Jazz throws up her hands, “why would you use a power you suck at to deal with drug flowers!”.

“Because I didn’t want to personally deal with blood blossoms!”, the kid slips on the slime and smashes his face into the stairs, “fuck!”, then scramble crawls up the steps.

Bassel grabs the mop back up, ignores that it’s a weirdly hot pink colour, and hands it off to his girlfriend, “so that was a thing that happened”.

Jack starts wheeze laughing, sitting down at the kitchen table, “I hope his duplicate at least had fun!”.

Maddie grinning at the man, “I’m sure it did, Jack hon”.

Everyone, including Bassel, ignores the strange thumping going on upstairs as well as the… arm that comes hurling down the steps and dissolves into green goo against a wall. Staying here was going to give him some extremely unique and unfortunate nightmares, wasn’t it? At least now he gets why his girlfriend had such an easy time writing behavioural papers, she had multiple subject studies. He might even be able to bang out a paper or two on human adaptability after this. He absolutely was not doing any papers on people growing arms out of their backs though, that would get him sent on a grippy sock vacation.

Danny pops back in looking disgusted, “it’s dealt with”.

Maddie eyeing him cautiously, “is the hall way intact?”.

The boy sags and gives a truly crushed, “no”.

At this point, Bassel thinks that’s frankly expected. He also thinks that this household is cursed. At least Jack bounds up the stairs to start fixing the hallway and Bassel legitimately doesn’t care to check out the damage. Truly. Instead he’s just going to sit down with his girlfriend and, like her, mildly regret him coming and going into this ‘cold turkey’. Next time she warns him about something, he’s going to demand an explanation instead of brushing her worries off.

End.

Promtps: Jazz brings a date home for the first time. She didn’t exactly brief them on her family’s whole ghost thing. Antics ensue. All the Fentons are a bit more ghostly than they know The Phantom Clan (Dan, Dani, and Danny) is awake and about to make it everyone's problem Jazz has a reputation at college for being spooky, it doesn't help that she communes with ghosts. Uncanny valley is strong with Danny, most Amity Parkers don't realize it, but any time anyone from out of town sees him, they're in for a spook. Nocturne fucked up BIG TIME and now needs help from the ghost kid.

[medic-simp]

Average -- Silco Smutshot

Rating: Explicit || Word Count: 2.4k Content Warnings: Boss/Employee relationship, flirting, vaginal fingering, flirting

Masterlist || AO3 Link

Beta reader: @silcoitus <3

You were sweating like a motherfucker.

You had never really made much of yourself. As a kid you were quiet and unassuming, sticking to the inside edge of the sidewalk and letting people pass you by. Now, you’ve landed a decent job bartending at the club of the Undercity: The Last Drop. One would argue that’s not the most low-profile job, but you manage to make it relatively quiet.

The first time you spoke to your boss was during your interview, and he promptly hired you at the end of it. That was also the last time you spoke to your boss and you were quite happy with that fact. You hadn’t been so fond of the way he stared you down, like you were a simple snack he’d indulge in on a work break. You much prefer not being looked at to being look down upon.

Unfortunately for you, you’re going to get looked down upon again. And likely die.

You were cleaning up some things around the bar a few hours in advance to the night life kick that always seemed to happy around 7 o’clock or so when Sevika came from downstairs. You heard her heavy boots on the staircase and started making a strong tequila concoction until you saw the look on her face and your stomach dropped.

Sevika was grinning at you, and Sevika never smiles. You abruptly stopped what you were doing and demanded to know what happened—what was wrong.

“Boss wants you.”

The worst three words you could possibly hear.

Now here you stand, after taking the longest amount of time possible to trudge up the stairs and make your way down the hall. However long that had been, it was enough time for a thin layer of sweat to dampen your palms, chest, forehead, armpits, everything.

You had heard enough about your boss so that you were comfortable never exchanging more than a quick point of eye contact with him. Fingernails torn out, limbs removed, tongues cut out, eyes gouged. You weren’t ready to abandon your comfortably invisible life for a fate like that.

You’re still not ready for it, but it might happen today anyhow.

The door knob slips between your sweaty fingers and you take another embarrassing attempt to open the door. Of course the hinges have to squeal obnoxiously when you enter—as they have never squealed before now—and you can’t help but look up and enjoy the last few minutes of your life. As anxiety-filled as they may be.

To your relief, Silco isn’t looking back at you. That’s probably a good sign, right?

His office, that you’ve only been in once or twice before, smells strongly of the cigars he’s fond of, the ones whose smoke is usually permeating the ceiling of the club. The lighting isn’t too bad either. The green is unsurprising, considering the bright sign outside the establishment, but you’re caught off guard by the large stained glass window that had left your memory until seen again.

You close the door, and now Silco looks up. He stops writing—which you hadn’t noticed he’d been doing until he paused—and the window seems to make him glow. A strange little halo of light beams from behind him, and the unusual mixture of color with the lamplight from his desk somehow compliments his pallid skin tone.

Silco doesn’t say anything, only cocking an eyebrow at you.

“You- um- you wanted me? Sir?” The words stumble clumsily from your mouth, and you have to work against your base reflexes to not cringe at your own stupidity.

Silco hums, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Come, sit,” he beckons, pointedly nodding to the chair in front of his desk.

You do so without a word, tripping over your feet before managing to land in the seat without crashing or something ridiculous like that.

“Whatever I did, sir,” you begin, working up the courage to moderately plead for your life, “I didn’t mean it and there’s got to be some way to fix it.”

As you nervously wring your hands together, Silco’s brow curls in for a second before he throws his head back and lets out a generous laugh.

What.

You smile awkwardly, letting out a hesitant chuckle of your own as your eyes linger anxiously on Silco’s amused grin.

“You think I’m going to kill you?” he asks, and you can’t say you’ve seen him more pleased—or at least you haven’t heard of him being more pleased. He must be able to tell just by the look on your face that you were fearing exactly that, because Silco chuckles again.

“No, no,” he assures, his expression maturing into something more neutral. Or is it just calm? You can’t tell. You’re too focused on the relieving breath you can finally let out, the rigid tension of your body melting away as Silco tells you that you are, in fact, not going to die.

“I had a curious thought. You always do just enough to do your job right, but there’s nothing ever of notice or reward,” he sighs, leaning onto his elbows. “Have you always been so… average?”

Double what.

There’s no accusation in his tone, and he’s not making fun of you. He’s genuinely confused.

“Oh. Um, yeah, I guess so.” Looking back on it, he’s right. It was kind of what you aimed for.

Silco’s brows raise in thoughtful consideration at that and he pulls back his arms, beginning to work the cuffs of his sleeves.

“Is that who you really are?” He offers a warm smile, as if that’s such a casual thing to ask. He manages to make it feel that way—natural. You feel at ease with the way he looks at you.

He rolls up one sleeve, and starts on the other, an idle set of motions as you decipher his words and chew on your own.

“What do you mean by that?” You eye the reveal of Silco’s pale forearms none too subtly, biting back a grin at the thin sinew and bone that flexes with the flick of his wrist.

Silco laughs to himself. “You can’t be that boring.” His voice is soft, considerate. “There must be more to you.”

“You ask all of your employees these questions?” You try your best to sound nonchalant when you speak but you’re not sure it comes out the way you want it to as you watch Silco flex his long fingers.

Janna’s tits, those fingers… am I getting paid for this meeting or do I get some other kind of... compensation?

You press your thighs together at that thought. As intrusive as getting fingered by Silco might be, you can’t find it in you to think Hell no! Not from my boss!

In your head, it’s starting to sound more like, Hell yes, from my boss!

Silco’s eyebrow—the one not drawn on—gives a little tick and he looks you up and down, the fire in his gaze feeling less and less professional with every passing second. This is going down a certain hole and you’re not opposed to it at all, however good or bad that may be. There’s not a care in your mind, not with the way your face heats up from the barest attention he offers.

He definitely knows what you’re thinking.

With a quick movement, Silco pushes out his chair and stands, rounding to your side of the desk. He doesn’t walk more than he glides, taking long, fluid strides under your watchful gaze until he comes to a halt behind you.

“Only the ones I think are worth asking,” he hums. His hand is a sudden but gentle pressure on your shoulder, narrow fingers tapping a patient rhythm against your collarbone. You’re intoxicated by the heat of him so close, thankful you’re already sitting because if you were to stand you would be embarrassingly weak in the knees.

“You think I’m that special?” Your voice trembles at the edges and you can hear Silco’s smile in the laugh he keeps to himself. Your heart pounds behind your ribcage as his hand inches upwards, fingers spanning across your throat and lingering for the barest of moments before they continue up to your chin. He applies a slight pressure, and you tip your head back obediently, greeted with Silco’s smugness in upside-down format.

His other hand comes up, grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, and just when you think it will take the same journey as its twin, Silco surprises you. His fingers divert drawing back until he can lace them through the strands at the base of your neck, brushing through your hair with a jarring degree of tenderness.

“Quite special,” he murmurs, letting his hand run absently through your hair. You close your eyes, breathing in the nearby smell of him; smoke and expensive products that you couldn’t name if you tried.

“You’re special enough to learn,” he adds, and before you have a chance to ask him what he means, his fingers halt in their tracks and tangle into your hair, pulling hard.

Your yelp catches on a half-drawn breath, the muscles around your throat straining from the angle he tilts your head back at.

“Do you know what I mean by that, darling?” The pet name has you melting and you catch his clever smirk at your reaction.

“N-no.”

“I want to learn what makes you tick,” Silco purrs, releasing your hair and returning your proper breathing privileges. “What exactly will break you? What will have you sobbing my name into the morrow, hmm?”

He asks it like you have the damn answers.

If the flood downstairs is anything to go off of… “I’d say you’re on the right track to figuring it out,” you quip, voice breathy and weak and desperate.

Silco grins wryly, one hand grabbing your arm and pulling you up. Your world spins as Silco handles you to his liking, turning so your back is to the desk as he pushes you against it. His unmistakable hardness presses between the two of you and it sends a rush of heat to your head. Though, you are thankful you’re not the only one stupidly aroused at all of this.

Instead of responding with a quick-witted remark of his own, Silco crashes his lips onto yours, an action long-awaited and much-appreciated. Your surprise leaves your mouth agape and Silco takes the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, invading with the strong taste of his whiskey and cigars.

You moan against him, fisting the lapels of his vest between your desperate fingers as if you could rip the garment off him. His hands respond in kind, pulling eagerly at your shirt and pulling it up your body. Your lips break away only to slide your top over your head before it’s thrown to the side and you have at each other once again.

You abandon your futile attempts at the complicated fabric of Silco’s chest, now helping him with you­r own pants. They’re shucked off in a hurry as Silco wraps hands under your thighs and lifts you onto the desk, slotting himself between your legs. He works to pull your panties off of you, leaving you to shiver at the cold that hits your wetness.

Just when you think he’ll throw your panties to the side as well, he stuffs them in his vest pocket.

“Safe keeping,” he says, smirking.

“You’re buying me another pair then,” you huff, watching with bated breath as Silco’s fingers dance featherlight touches up the insides of your thighs, a winning grin painted on his face.

“I’ll buy you hundreds more,” he says with a groan before he brings his thumb to circle your wet clit. Your moan is eagerly swallowed by his mouth as he kisses you again, all complaints of your undergarments long forgotten as you lose yourself to the blissful pressure of his ministrations. As subtle as they are for the time being, it’s a much-appreciated relief from the burning tension and ache he had left you with.

He gathers your wetness on his fingers, running teasing touches through your folds until he prods your entrance with two digits. He nudges, taunting, and the friction isn’t enough. You have to whine into his mouth for him to relent and finally penetrate you, curling both fingers against your walls at the most delightful angle.

“Most do better with positive reinforcement rather than negative,” Silco hums, letting your hips grind absently against his hand, “let’s test that sentiment, shall we?”

Silco’s hand begins to rock against you in kind, fingers thrusting and curling at a gentle pace. He eases the ache with gentle kisses to the bared skin of your throat. You’re already embarrassingly close to your climax, clenching around his fingers as his palm grinds into your sensitive clit.

“Perhaps if this happens more often you’ll give me a little more effort on the clock, hm?” Silco muses, working you effortlessly, as if he’d known your body over years rather than just locking onto your every sweet spot in a matter of minutes.

All you can do is whine, the syllables of his name drawn out in long, strained cries as he brings you closer and closer to your peak. His lips are upon your breasts, sucking red marks onto your skin before he takes a nipple between his teeth. Lords above, he's going to make you come, but you want this to last!

Your walls must be clenching feverishly around his fingers as testament to your restraint because Silco eases your ruminations.

“Come for me, darling,” he says, voice a breathy purr against your lips, “let me see it all come undone, whenever you’re ready.”

As if his ministrations weren’t enough, Silco’s words push you over the edge and the next thing you know, you’re lying on your back on the table, sighing his name to the heavens. Just in the corner of your vision Silco is grinning, the heel of his palm grinding perfectly and his fingers crooking just so, working you through your high until it’s too much and you have to grab his wrist to get him to stop.

He’s careful when he pulls his fingers from you, and equally careful—if not a little bit tender—when he sits you up and pulls you into the thin expanse of his chest. His heartbeat is a steady thing beneath your ear and your own pulse seems to sync up to it as you climb down from your hearty orgasm.

“I knew there was more to you,” Silco muses, chin resting atop your head, “If you show me some authenticity in your work, I’ll really have no option but to reward you in a similar fashion to this.”

[snail-squasher]

Stars-Aligning

'boys suck, and girls I've never tried' - chappell roan

word ct. - 1113

warnings - a small panic attack(?), mostly fluff, fem!reader is implied but anyone can read :)

You've never been one to have crushes. Sleepover gossip times would always make you pick at your skin for 5 minutes trying to remember all the boys in your grade so you can blurt a name out when asked who you like. But when you got into college something changed. Something that goes by the name of Kiyoko Shimizu. You first heard about her when in a group project with Yachi, she had suggested that Kiyoko tag along to the cafe meet up that you guys had planned - a simple 3rd person to keep conversation flowing so there’s no random awkward silence. 

Wrong; you were incredibly wrong. In the entire 2 hours you guys were there, you got 2 things done: writing your name and finding out Kiyoko was the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen and that the way her lips move when she talks is mesmerizing; maybe that’s why everything she said you completely agreed with - is this what your friends talk about at sleepovers? Is this what movie scenes are made from? Is this normal? 

Obviously you know what being gay meant, you’ve seen gay couples in movies and even around campus, so why was this the worst whiplash you’ve ever experienced? And why are you getting so nervous and sweating when she asks for your number? Why do you only let out a shaky - mousy - ‘yeah’ 

The only information you absorbed is that the prettiest girl you've ever seen is in your contacts and that she likes peaches and ice cream. There’s only one reasonable response to this information - type out 4 draft messages asking her to the local ice cream parlor. Who would know better how to ask her out on a completely platonic and friendly ice cream date? Yachi. 

You’ve never felt more awkward in your entire life; you could smell the tension before the conversion even started. “Well… I say just ask in the friendliest way possible… this one right there,” she points to the 2nd message, “seems like you're rambling a lot, and the one below that sounds like you're demanding she go.” Yachi explains - a little concerned by how concentrated you are after explaining how this is a ‘totally friendly and chill meet up because she seems cool’ for about 10 minutes. “Okay…so like… the last one? Or are the emojis too much?” “The last one is perfect, she actually texts with a lot of emojis too.” “Okay perfect…” both of you sit in silence for 20 seconds before you blurt “can you please send the message for me.” 

It was set, you're very casual friend hangout, was the next day at 2pm. Although the state of your room said that you were evacuating by 2pm tomorrow; clothes thrown from your closet had basically made it out of your room, forgotten t-shirts now seeing the light of day, even pants that you’ve been meaning to return to a friend had found its way onto the outfit roster. But after what felt like the zombie apocalypse, you put together an outfit that had one inspiration - Kiyoko Shimizu. 

It was just to seem cool right? To hope that she'll want to be good friends right? And maybe kiss? Do good friends do that? 

This was a bad idea. This was a bad idea. This was the worst idea you’ve ever had. Gripping the steering wheel so hard you make a mental reminder to call a mechanic and breathing so hard you reach for a non-existent inhaler. You’ve never had a worse timed star- aligning ever. You can see her in the window, occasionally glancing out the window waiting for any sign of you, but you’re too busy having second doubts because your gay awakening is waiting for a obviously, for sure, ‘no wonder Yachi was awkward’ date. You try to quickly regain yourself after seeing Kiyoko start to look down at her watch every 6 seconds. Checking your face in the mirror and fixing your hair in the shop’s window reflection, you finally open the doors and come face-to-face with the most attractive cause for your midlife crisis. You're not even 25.

“Hey, sorry I’m a little late, I was picking up my room a little and lost track of time,” well that's not a complete lie, you had folded about 4 shirts and then rethought your entire outfit and started from scratch. And then she did the smile, the little lift up that makes her beauty mark move 3 cm from its resting place, “It’s really no problem, just glad I wasn’t stood up.” Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god. Being stood up means a date. This is for sure a date. You're glad you didn’t over analyze but also panicking because you just processed what a lesbian is in the car you’ve had since 17.

“Yeah, sorry again, I didn’t mean to leave someone like you waiting,” are you actually stupid. ‘Someone like you?’ You’ve been homosexual for 5 minutes and already messed up. “Hope that’s a good thing,” she says sarcastically before walking up to order. “I’ll get the peach please, and what would you want?” She looks at you. She focuses on you. “I’ll just get the same thing” a smile. She smiles at you. “Sounds good, do you want to find a table while I pay?” “Oh you don’t have to pay f-” “No no, it’s okay.” You're starting to understand why your friends freak out when a guy offers to pay. 

“Okay- so- wait. He asked you to marry him after only seeing you?” you ask holding back a laugh, “Yes! I still give him a hard time for it too,” Kiyo - she insisted you call her that - was laughing telling you about her time in high school, while checking her watch, “Oh! It’s already late! Sorry for non-stop talking, I feel like that’s all I did.” You quickly try to recover as you both stand up and throw your trash away, “oh no it’s okay, I loved hearing about you.” After making it through the front doors, she turns to you and smiles before leaning in and giving a small kiss, “Well maybe you can tell me about you next time.” “Yeah! Of course,” you reply too quickly for you not to cringe when thinking about it later. She does the smile again, the same smile, “Make sure you text me when you get home… I’ll see you soon.” “Yeah of course, have a goodnight…” You watch as she walks away to her car before slowly sitting getting into your own. You're surprised the shop owners didn’t come running out after the excited scream you let out.

I hope you guys like it!!! the divider(s) is from @cafekitsune

STREAM CHAPPELL ROAN!!!!

[tmb2kris]

Pave The Way

Gojo Satoru x F! Reader

A/N: If you wanna see the main OC's for this story, check this out on wattpad. </3 ( This is meant to be a book btw )

—

Chap: 0 Opposites / 1 / 2... / ...

0 — polar Opposites attract

On the eighth of December on nineteen ninety, a child by the name Zen'in [ Name ] was born. A year and day after the Gojo clans pride, considering it, it must be fate.

Yet her clan has better plans than to let her ever get close with that child, a child who they consider a rival, already. Must it turn out she's of no use, she will meet him.

And figure out her purpose, why she's been born, why their fate is weaved together carefully.

Everyone glared at her as if she was a rodent. A one in an infinite chance that happened to her, having two Heavenly Restrictions. Faint outlines of shackles wrap around her neck, ankles, and wrists.

Some consider it a divine intervention, the heavens trying to restrain her inner potential as much as they could before her birth. Yet, some consider it a bad omen, all having their own reasons, possibilities too much to count.

However, most tend to brush it off considering how it only appears for half a nanosecond.

She'll learn that the child she thought would be loved by everyone, has a much more complex character than she thought.

Maybe it's empathy that drove her forward that would allow her to push her limits for vengeance. Love is a fuckin' twisted curse.

He says that, yet he finds himself falling for someone, being heads over heels.

Though they had the opposite hair, and eye palette. They were similar in a sense.

12/20/199?, During a clan meeting

The black-haired girl stands outside, on the Engawa surrounding the building.

She was more than just curious about that child who had apparently shifted the balance of the world just by being born. Red eyes scanning her surroundings as she lets out heated breathes into the cold air.

The puff of warm air making itself visible due to being this smoke-like thing. Winter was always a fascinating thing, yet she hated how she was born near the start of it.

Wondering what the boy is like, the girl can't help but feel peeved over how it feels like she needs to live in her shadow.

Holding her hands out like a bowl, she tries to catch a snowflake to take a better look. The little white things that she'd always see outside the small window of her room, having always been locked up.

A bird must gain the courage to fly, soar high in the skies like never before. But what can a bird do if it's locked in a cage like a zoo attraction? Numerous ’doctors’ had come to see her.

Loud coherent arguments right outside her door, whether she should be just tossed out and have all current information on her wiped, or they should keep the 'failure'.

"What are you doing?"

By the sound of it, it's a boy. Her head softly turns to him with a blank expression.

Their eyes subtly widening when they notice the distinctive features of one another. Why can't I see anything about her...?

The little girl's red eyes reflecting through his bright blue orbs, not being your typical blue eyes. Her eyes spark in excitement with a little 'Waa...!'.

He finds her appearance odd, having never seen or heard a girl like this. Especially his innate Technique, 'Six Eyes', refuses to show anything regarding her.

Ethereal. It's so ethereal that it feels fake.

The way her hair is like void, his hair being white as snow. Ruby red irises that clash with his diamond-like ones.

Curiously walking over to who should be the prodigy of the Gojo clan, she cups his face with both hands, elicitting an annoyed 'Tsk..!!' from him.

He slaps her hands off showing his displeasure. "Who're you?"

"[ N... Name ]." She answers with a subtle smile, her eyes scanning his appearance. The two being the same height as of now.

He wears a pale blue Kimono, a simple line drawing of a dragonfly imprinted all around on the fabric as a pattern with a dark blue obi. While she wears a white Kimono, having black filled in Calla drawings as her pattern with a grey-ish red sash.

"... Weirdo." His eyelids droop down to show his indifference, not caring enough to introduce himself. "What cla—"

"[ Name ]! There you are..." A servant breathes out a relieved sigh with their hands on her shoulders.

"We're talking." The snow haired boy pleats his brows, glaring at the maid.

"I—I'm sorry. Young master Gojo, but she's needed right now." With their words, they drag the girl away elsewhere. Their meeting being their last... or not?

"... Needed? Who is she?" His brows pleat with a thumb pressed against his chin to think, trying to think of possibilities.

She has... and had no idea where her parents had went. But some of the servants just love to gossip when shes roaming the halls of a random house under the name of Zen'in.

"That child is bad luck, I'm telling you."

"Inverted colors may mean inverted attributes... If that Gojo kid is good, she might be on the bad side."

"They should toss her out, already."

"I heard her mom was from the Inumaki clan..."

With just a side glance from her glinting jewel-like eyes, they'd all immediately scram in fear of what would happen if not.

I'm only seven.

The red eyed child frowns, lowering her gaze. She wished she wasn't born into this family. She hoped for her scarlet orbs to fade into a different color. She wants light to make contact with her hair instead of the void shade swallowing it whole.

Staring at the small rectangular window high on the wall infront of her, as she sits on her bed with her lower half being covered by her blanket.

Maybe she just isn't fit anything. Perhaps the two restrictions are a lie to try stop any words slipping that may taint the reputation of the Zen'in clan.

Suddenly, the door to her room flies open showing her mother with light grey hair. Her neck, up to her forehead, being covered in cold sweat. "Honey, pack some stuff. We're leaving."

The woman gently smiles. And the little girl obediently complies with her mothers request..— demand? without a clue why.

But she's been taught not to ask why.

The almost faded bruises on her wrists, and hands serving as evidence. It'd sting when she'd take a bath, but it's fine. I'm used to it, she thought. Calming herself with it.

Following her mother, she slowly becomes concerned over the fact the woman is going deeper and deeper into an unknown forest.

"... Mom. Where're we going?" Finally shooting the question, the woman halts to answer. Her lips parting to speak only to be intercepted by a loud yell.

"OVER THERE!"

"We — Somewhere safe, honey. No matter what, stay calm, alright? I love you." She hurriedly speaks with a trembling voice as she scoops up the kid into her arms, trying to run with all her speed.

It hurt to see the only person who actually cared be injured, the woman writhing in pain as she tries to hoist up her head with little strength. "Run..." A hand weakly raised into the air, she urges for the clueless girl to run.

Tripping over a branch stuck in place by a large boulder, the mother tries her best not to let her child be scratched as the kid rolls off her fingertips after falling face flat onto the ground. "Mo—mom...!"

And she does, like the obedient child she is. Tears welling up in the corner of her eyes which she fights back, trying not to have her vision blurred while she runs as fast as she can.

Suddenly, the line of trees fade when she accidentally takes a step right on the ledge of the small cliff, causing her to roll down onto the road beneath while a car was driving on the route.

Screeching to a halt with a loud beep, the female in the passenger seat getting out of the car to check on the child that had now fainted.

The outline of shackles on the sides of her head flickering dimly, before stopping after three seconds. "Hey...! he... y... id... o... ay..."

Her, the stranger's, voice blurring itself. Sounding far too distant for the child to hear.

0.5 — A new chapter of her life

A masculine voice begins to tune in, slowly becoming coherent. "What do we do about the kid? We can't just keep her...!"

"But no one knows her! She must've escaped a bad place if she seriously ran into the middle of the road..." A feminine voice refutes the idea of leaving the random girl who fell on the road out of nowhere.

They found it odd seeing how her Kimono was made from refined silk, to the point it might sell for thousands. She's definitely from a wealthy family... so why run away?

"I know, I know—but if her family finds her with us... they might accuse us of being kidnappers." He sighs, while the girl's eyelids slowly raise from her wakening.

"She packed bags for a reason, Hiro." The woman huffs as he continues to show his displeasure with the idea of fostering the child, even for just a year. "She's a child. She won't be able to stay alive if she stays on the streets."

"But... Ugh." Placing a hand against his forehead, he gives into his wives' ideal. "Fine, but we should let her go after two years." The man sighs, his eyes opening and moving to the girl who's completely aware of what's happening right now.

My eyes hurt, she rubs at them. And for a good minute she saw odd thermal-like auras emanating from every object in the room, information flooding her brain. It starts to overwhelm her, but it all quickly dissipates when she does a long firm blink.

The two strangers have their mouth agape in disbelief over her orbs that glimmer like gems, an irregular sight to behold. "Her eyes..."

"They're beautiful!" She interrupts her husband, running over to the little girl to raise high in the air with amazed sparkles in her eyes.

"We should buy contact lenses for her." Reluctantly making the suggestion, he looks at the clearly confused girl. "I'm Hiro. She's Kirana. We'll give you a place to stay, alright?"

"..." Her hand slopes, still not sure if she should trust these randoms who kidnapped her off the road when she blacked out. "Err..?" She nods in agreement.

—

Word Count: 1775

[hockeyboysimagines]

would you write #1 from the smut list with Jarvy? I need more of him on this app thanks☺️☺️

So happy I got a Seth request. He’s definitely underrated and if you like reading about him, might I interest you in the fic I have for him? I’ll link it here!

Enjoy🤍

Seth Jarvis was a tease. There was no other way to describe him at this point and he was killing you slowly and he knew it.

His accidental touches and dirty text messages over the last few hours, had finally boiled over the second he closed the car door.

This is how you and him had ended up tangled in the back of the Tiguan, windows fogged up, thankfully because you were parked in a public parking lot.

He was more touchy than normal tonight and what would have been a quick make out any other time, was turning into something else. He had your skirt pushed up around your hips and was attempting to yank down your underwear, and hold you upright at the same time. The backseat was spacious enough to make it possible but not comfortable.

“What-what are you doing?” You asked breathlessly as he slid them down your legs and undid the button on his jeans. Your chest felt tight and your breath was coming out in gasps as you reached forward and gave the hair that hung down the back of his neck a small tug.

He grinned “I’m about to give you the ride of your life.”

You felt your cheeks redden and looked around. The parking lot was not empty, not even close and there were people walking around everywhere. The others were still inside and it would be mortifying is Svech came out looking for you guys and saw something he shouldn’t, but the idea of getting caught was kind of hot. Seth sometimes forgot he was an nhl player and just did things that normal people would get in trouble for, but taking a risk like this was a big one.

“Really? right here? you know people are going to see us...”

The cheekiest smile you’d ever seen spread across his face and he moved his jeans out of the way, patting his knee.

“Jump on babe.”

The sensation of him inside never ever got old, no matter what the situation was. It was chilly and cramped in the car, and you were almost positive you had thrown your back out and had a brush burn on your right knee, but he had one hand fisted in your hair and the other hand anchored on your hip as you moved up and down his length. His lips moved across your chest tongue wet and hot against your skin and you gave a little shiver

You knew people were shooting looks at the car, and they definitely knew what was going on in there, and you were thankful for the window tint and the condensation on the glass so they couldn’t see that it was Seth Jarvis in the car and not someone random.

“Seth I think people know we’re-“ you braced a hand on the window, fingers slipping against the wet glass.

“Let them look.” He said breathlessly “Let them see how beautiful my girl is.”

You didn’t have a chance to respond because he started thrusting harder and your vision went fuzzy as you got smacked with an earth shattering orgasm. Breathing heavily you leaned forward, forehead pressed against his.

“Okay that was pretty hot.” You whispered in his ear, lips grazing his skin. His heart was beating loudly in his chest and he looked down between you, reaching for your underwear and handing them to you.

He smiled “Told you. Now let’s get out of here before someone calls the cops for indecent exposure.”

“Really? No round two in the car?”

He raised his eyebrows “Oh you wanna go again?”

“Just figured since we’re already here, and you’re into exhibitionism now apparently. No one will see us at home.”

He smiled slyly, and started the car “We can open the blinds”