#there’s already 3 people signed up to work that day… they don’t need me

[loveandmurders]

The Sun of Ambrose V (lost Sinclair!daughter reader AU)

Hi everyone, this is the final part of my Sinclair!daughter AU in which the reader is Bo's daughter and she has been taken away and adopted by a new family.

You can find part I here.

Hope you'll enjoy! <3

Warnings: no proof reading, killer!reader, mentions of guilt, violence, murders, blood, some sort of dark angst/comfort

You quite enjoyed your summer break in Ambrose. You loved to sculpt with Vincent, you loved to watch your dad work on a car and to have him show you things, you loved to wander around with Lester. You loved to play with Jonesy as well. Everything felt good. You never slept so well in years, because you were finally feeling safe enough to fully relax.

You hadn’t asked about the tourists anymore because you didn’t have enough strength for more drama for the moment. And whenever people were coming around, the brothers made sure you were busy somewhere else in the town or with Lester. You pretended you didn’t notice anything. You just wanted to be happy. 

And for the moment, your own desire to kill has quieted down. You were still feeling sick from the murder of your mother.

The brothers didn’t notice anything amiss; apart from the fact they still hadn’t heard the sound of your voice, you were once again their ray of sunshine. You were making them so full of joy. The twins were talking, late in the night, about the legacy once again. They hadn’t thought they could resume their plans on this matter. They were so relieved.

However they were a little bit concerned about your adoptive father. They were certain that even if the man wasn’t doing too well for the moment, at some point he would want to get “his daughter” back. The twins had no idea how to cut him out of your life without killing him. Bo would love to murder him - out of jealousy - but he knew that you would know it one day, and he didn’t want to upset you that way. Both your mothers already died after all…

You were having a snack in Bo’s garage while he was taking care of a new car. You were sucking on the chocolate that dripped on your fingers, as you were listening to the music your father put on. You were both enjoying each other's presence even if you weren’t interacting directly. Bo was always a lot more at ease when you were in the same room than him or at least in his line of vision. He was still traumatised; he lost you once, and he promised himself it would never happen again.

You slightly jumped when you felt your phone buzzing next to you. You grabbed it and frowned when you saw it was your adoptive father. Bo noticed the look on your face.

“What’s up, baby?” he asked you as he came closer to you. You put your phone on your lap so you could sign

“He is wondering where I am.” you replied, knowing Bo would understand who was the “he”. You father rolled his eyes and groaned

“Oh so he remembered he's supposed to look after ya?” he ironized and your crossed your arms on your chest “Don’t pout” he hummed and kissed the top of your head

“I’ll have to tell him I’m here. I can’t lie to him about that. Just be nice to him, okay? Things are difficult and… And he won’t be happy about the situation because…” you trailed off

“Because what?”

“Well before mom got sick, she discovered I was chatting with you and Vince and Les, and she was worried about me. She wanted to call the cops on you” you explained. Bo didn’t show any emotion but you read in his eyes that he was quite concerned about such news

“Luckily she got sick then” he commented out loud before realising it “Sorry, love, I didn’t mean it like that” he quickly added as you looked away. Luck had really nothing to do with it, you thought.

“Anyway, I will tell him I’m here. And he’ll probably come get me. I’m just gonna make sure he doesn’t call the police or anyone” you promised as you got up and left the garage

You needed to be alone to write to your adoptive father: “Hey dad, are you feeling better? I didn’t really have anywhere to go so I went back to Ambrose. Everyone is very nice to me and Bo is inviting you over (so please don’t call the police, they really didn’t do anything wrong!). Will you bring me back home?”

The answer was almost instantaneous: “Yes, I will. I won’t call the police because I shouldn’t have asked you to go away in the first place. Love you, I’m sorry for everything”

You were relieved, knowing he wouldn’t be lying to you, not after what happened, not when he had failed his mission of taking care of you.

You came back home and settled at the kitchen table, thinking about what to do next. You didn’t want to leave Ambrose but you wouldn’t be allowed to stay here. You tried to busy yourself on some silly games on your phone but soon enough you grew bored. You were feeling quite upset as well. For the first time in weeks, you wanted to kill someone. You needed to express yourself in another way than sculpting or drawing. You needed to take out your frustration on someone, but there was no one to kill here.

Vincent opened the basement door, in need of some water when he saw you. He quickly saw you weren’t your usual happy self. He put an hand on your shoulder for you to look up at him before signing:

“What’s wrong?”

“My adoptive father will come get me. I think he should be here tonight” you replied

“Do you want to go?” Vincent tilted his head to the head, you quickly shook your head

“No, but I can’t really do anything about it”

You could tell that Vincent wanted to say something but didn’t dare and he simply sadly nodded his head at you.

“How about we make something together? Would it cheer you up?” he offered, which made you smile

“I’d love to”

As you focused on the art you were making with Vincent, you forgot about your adoptive father and you forgot about the time. Your need to kill quietened down, but was still there, waiting for you to be on your own to eat you up alive once again.

You were about to finish a sculpture of Jonesy you intended to offer to Lester, when you heard two vehicles coming into Ambrose. You looked at the window, but didn’t recognise your adoptive father’s car. There were lost “tourists” who were following behind Lester’s truck. Vincent tensed and looked at the clock before asking you:

“When do you think your adoptive father will come here?”

“I’m not sure, soon I guess” you shrugged but you saw the panic rising into Vincent’s eye

“Alright. I let you finish the sculpture without me. We have work to do. Stay here, please.” Vincent replied

“What work?” you frowned

“Promise me you will stay here” Vincent asked, firmly signing each work. You understood he was pretty serious about it

“Of course, I promise you, uncle” you finally replied as you sat back down and watched Vincent leave the room and go back into the basement.

You were about to go back to your sculpture when you heard people violently arguing. The “tourists” didn’t seem to be too happy with Bo. Lester was quick to intervene as well. You watched the scene of a man pushing Lester to the ground, and Bo hitting the said man. Your eyes widened at such a display of violence. You nibbled on your bottom lip. Were your family killers, or was it just bad people disrupting the peace of Ambrose?

You saw that things were getting pretty rough between the three tourists and your father and uncle. You wondered where Vincent was, and almost got into the basement to look for him… Until you saw your adoptive father’s car coming into view. He really couldn’t have arrived at the worst moment. He stopped in front of the garage and tried to put himself between Bo and the man, and to appease the situation. Bo asked him to go away, you guessed, according to his gestures. And your adoptive father refused.

You were too far away to see everything, and even more when they seemed to come more into Bo’s garage. You just knew that at some point someone screamed. Two tourists ran away, Lester ran after them with what seemed like a knife, and Bo was covered in blood. You had to stop yourself from leaving the house. You wanted to help, and you wanted to be the one covered in blood. However, you never broke a promise you made to your family before, so you had to be better, you had to stay inside. You didn’t know where your adoptive father was anymore and you grew worried. How could things go so badly after such happy weeks in Ambrose?

Bo grabbed a rifle and was about to go after the tourists when he received a massive hit on the head from behind and fell on the ground. You saw your adoptive father with some mechanic tool in his hands.

You couldn’t stop yourself this time. You took the gun Bo was hiding under his armchair and ran to the garage. You had to stop them, you had to do something about it. You couldn’t scream or you would have. Your legs brought you in front of the two men with such speed, as the adrenaline was pumping into your veins. Before you knew it, you aimed at them.

Your adoptive father who was ready to hit Bo stopped his movement as he noticed you and he brought his hands in front of him. Bo was still on the ground, pretty disoriented by the hit he received on the head. He looked up and saw you. You had never looked so much like a Sinclair before. He knew you were his daughter then; he wouldn’t even be disappointed if you decided to kill him.

You were perfect.

“What are you doing? Shoot him, shoot him! He killed the guy, and he wants to kill us all. Your mother was right, they are murderers!” you adoptive father yelled as you eyes moved between him and Bo

“I won’t hurt ya, baby” Bo whispered to you “Everythin’s alright” he continued, trying to sooth you. And one thing was certain, you wouldn’t stand to never hear him talking to you like that anymore.

You looked back at your adoptive father, tears in your eyes. You wanted to tell him how sorry you were about what you were going to do, about what you did to his wife, but with the gun in your hands, you couldn’t.

You shooted and closed your eyes. His body loudly fell to the ground and you shivered. You looked down at Bo and helped him to get up.

He quickly hugged you before gently rocking you, so you could calm down. You didn’t cry in his embrace, you felt at peace. You felt like everything was as it always should have been.

“Ya alright?” Bo whispered to you as he cupped your face into his bloody hands. You nodded and sniffed.

Screams resonated from the House of Wax and you moved from Bo. You were ready to help, you were ready to kill some more but Bo grabbed your wrist. He softly took the gun from you and kissed the palm of your hand.

“Don’t worry, baby. Les and Vince are taking care of the two others. Ya can rest now. Ya did amazin’. Ya saved me, ya saved the family” he hummed, pride shining into his eyes. “Told ya everythin’ was gonna be alright,” he added as he brought you back against him once again.

You couldn’t fully relax, not knowing if your uncles were doing alright. You kept your face towards the House of Wax, waiting for them. Soon enough, you saw them pulling two bodies out of the museum and you felt the adrenaline leaving you.

“I need to sit down” you signed to your dad who quickly nodded. He opened Lester’s truck and sat you down at the passenger seat, as it was the most comfy place he could offer for the moment. He didn’t want you to see the body of your adoptive father either.

“Stay here, I’ll be back soon” he murmured. He needed to let his brothers know about what happened. 

Soon enough, they were all around you. You quickly scanned them, to make sure they were unharmed. They didn’t really know what to tell you. They were happy, of course, but they weren’t too sure how you were feeling. You killed the man who raised you for years, after all.

Truth to be told, you used to feel guilty because of the death of his wife that was driving him crazy, but now they were back together. You felt free. You felt ready to kill again, to kill for the family business.

“Bo told us ya did the right thin’” Lester told you and you gave him a soft smile “Feelin’ all good?” he asked and you nodded.

“You don’t have to feel bad for having… killed him, you know. You protected your real father, you protected us. You did what you had to do” Vincent signed to you, even if Bo and Lester weren’t too sure that reminding you you killed him was a good idea. To their surprise, you relaxed into the seat and nodded again.

“I am a Sinclair” you said in a rough voice you hadn’t used in years.

--

Taglist : @murder-hobo - @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21 ; @12gaugefalls ; @kriston1210 ; @slushi-chan

[fingertipsmp3]

Would it be stupid of me to request time off on the day after the Eurovision final

[primofate]

Confessions Series - Part 1: Overheard [Genshin Impact Male Characters]

Note: Welp I had the itch to write again so here I am. Though sleep deprived because baby keeps waking up every 3 hours to feed... I wanted to do this haha. Based on @soulprompts “I love you” prompts. What other character should I do?

Warnings: haven’t written in a while please excuse and tell me about pronoun slips, I’m sleep deprived, not proofread, some are just concepts of liking someone, having a crush on them, while some are full blown love confessions. SOME ARE ANGSTY, chose only the male characters I wanted to write for instead of forcing myself to do all of them.

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Scaramouche, Xiao, gn!reader  

Other works in this series: (Part 2 - Description)

Scenario: Talking to a friend about how you feel about him. Unbeknownst to you, he was listening, hidden round the corner. What does he do?

Aether

“He’s sweet,” You simply answer when asked what you like about Aether. “I mean, he’s a simple guy. He’s not a mystery, it’s not hard to read him nor to get along with him. I guess that’s one of the reasons why a lot of people like him.” 

“Uhuh,” your friend drawls, their head lazily resting on their hand. “but you don’t just like Aether. You seriously LIKE him,” 

You’re rendered speechless by the statement for a second, tripping over your first words, “Well--I mean--” and as if realizing you’re making a fool of yourself by speaking in garbles, you recover. “Yeah, I guess...” You don’t know why you admit to it, but it’s not like your friend didn’t already know.

What he does:

Is tempted to immediately walk up to you and reconfirm the conversation.

Stops himself for a minute and replays the whole conversation in his head, probably once, twice and maybe a third time.

Second guesses himself, but when he finally goes through all possible options, he realizes there’s no mistaking the overheard confession.

All the while, Paimon is nagging him to go talk to you. “You didn’t hear wrong! Stop thinking too much, hurry and go!” Ends up being pushed out into the open by his flying companion.

“Erm...Ahem” he coughs into his fist. “I...didn’t mean to eavesdrop...Y/N, sorry, but... can we continue this conversation somewhere else? Somewhere...a little more private?” and the shy smile he gives you is a tell tale sign that he had most likely felt the same.

Albedo

“His schedule is always busy. He has his hands full with Klee, on top of all the work he needs to do,” was your excuse to your friend when asked why you haven’t confessed to the alchemist yet. “I don’t think Albedo has time for this type of thing, you know? He doesn’t need a distraction.”

What he does:

His logical side agrees that he doesn’t need a distraction.

But the other part of him doesn’t mind if its you.

Pauses for a moment, thinks about it for a second, before confronting you about it just minutes later.

“...Schedules can be made flexible, Y/N,” you jump at his sudden voice. “Just as distractions...can sometimes be a good thing,” Albedo stretches a hand out to you. “...Care to test how good of one you can be to me?” 

Alhaitham

“Y/N, Alhaitham is FAR from stupid. There’s no way he hasn’t figured out that you have a crush on him,”

“Shush!!” You swerve around to your friend, ducking a little, as if that would help you become invisible. “People could be listening, besides, if that’s true, then it’s even worse. It means that he knows, and probably has no interest in me, so let’s just forget about it, ok?” 

What he does:

..................................No he doesn’t know. Sure he’s smart but............he could be dense when it came to these things. That, or he just didn’t know what to do.

Does not confront you about it immediately. In fact he turns around and walks away without being spotted, opting to think about his next steps instead of just rushing into the conversation.

Lo and behold a few days later he’ll show up in front of you with his usual stoic expression.

“Y/N,” he starts, and you freeze on the spot, looking up at him, blinking. 

“Y-Yes?” You haven’t seen nor heard from him in days and as usual, you attributed it to him being busy. Little did you know that he had been mulling over how to talk to you.

“I heard your conversation with (your friend) the other day,” straightforward was his answer to everything, even in this particular situation. 

It takes you a few seconds to internalize his words. You’re not even sure which conversation he means. You talk to (your friend) a lot. Your brows start to furrow in confusion, until he clarifies. 

“...I wouldn’t say that I completely have no interest in you,” he starts, and your shoulders tense up, now realizing which conversation it was. You could feel your cheeks start to burn, all you wanted to do was run away. 

Alhaitham holds back a sigh, “...Anyway, here is no place to talk about this... I’ll meet you at Puspa Cafe tonight, if you’re free,” 

You’re FAR from stupid too, and knew exactly what he was trying to do.

Ayato

“Besides why would the Lord Commissioner even look at someone like me?” you hiss at your friend who was trying to persuade you that Ayato also had the hots for you. It just seemed a little delusional to you.

“He takes the chance to rile you up every time he sees you. He’s obviously doing it on purpose,” your friend counters. You roll your eyes up to high heaven.

“He does that to everyone...” you conclude, knowing that Ayato had the habit of--though you don’t know if intentionally--giving his servants a scare. 

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to be so jealous,” your friend quips back, you send them a quick glare before going back to doing your own work.

What he does:

Doesn’t even bat an eye. Smirks as he hears the whole story. 

Confidently reveals his presence to the two of you, chuckling.

“Jealousy doesn’t usually paint a beautiful colour,” he starts, the overly pleasant smile on his face. You straighten up immediately, eyes changing into saucers when you realize he had heard the whole thing. You open your mouth to explain, but he beats you to it.

“But I must say it looks a little different on you, Y/N, almost charming,” The side of his lip quirks up the slightest bit into a subtle grin. You bite your lip, there he is again trying to rile you up, maybe (your friend) was right. 

“...Is there anything I can do for you Lord Commissioner?” you ask, trying to stray away from the subject. He only chuckles. 

“You’ll find that there are a LOT of things you can do for me, Y/N. Start by accompanying me to tea, hm?” He wasn’t really asking, it was almost a command. 

You wished your friend snickering on the side would just shut up.

Cyno

“...He’s a little intimidating don’t you think? I don’t know why you like him so much,” your friend comments, slacking off on their pile of paperwork. You roll your eyes at them. 

“Maybe because he works hard, unlike other people,” you shake your head a little. 

“As General Mahamatra he’s supposed to work hard. Just admit that you have weird tastes.” your friend counters, still procrastinating on their share of work.

“Okay, so what if he’s a little vicious in his ways? He’s just doing his job. Now, it would help me if you started doing yours as well,” 

What he does:

Doesn’t know what to do.

Stands hidden for quite a long time. The subject has already moved on and away from him.

Torn between revealing himself now or later. 

Can’t think properly so exits from the situation and comes back later that same day, when you’re still working with your friend.

As he approaches your table, your friend notices him first. (Your friend) nudges you with their elbow, tilting their chin up to let you know that someone was approaching. 

You pick your head up, and feel yourself go rigid when you see that it’s Cyno. At first you think to yourself that he might not be here to talk to you, maybe he’s just about to walk by...but he stops in front of your table and you’re left to wordlessly look up at him.

There’s a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on forever.

“...I value the high praise that you give me,” he starts and you immediately want to duck under the table and hide.

He heard. 

“O-Oh, G-General Mahamatra, you heard that...It’s...nothing, hard work deserves to be praised...” you avert your gaze down to the papers you were working on, pretending to continue and be busy with them. 

There was an awkward pause, your eyes darting up towards him for a second, checking if he was still looking at you, before breaking away again and furiously flipping through papers.

“...Do you want to play some TCG?” 

“Huh?” You end up with an incredulous look on your face, trying to gauge if he was serious. His face is still blank, but the usual tenseness in the way he carried himself gave way for a barely seen relaxation. It was hard to spot, but it was there. 

You ended up sighing a little in what you could only describe as relief, giving him a lopsided smile. “Sure, but go easy on me, I haven’t played in a while,”

“That’s fine. Perhaps a daily practice session will do you good,”

Dainsleif

“Mysterious, aloof, disappears into thin air... A man like that? You probably should stay away, Y/N. You don’t know what he dabbles in,” (Your friend) warns, looking at you with genuine concern. 

“Perhaps he has some secrets...but I don’t think he’s a bad guy at all. I’ve spent some time conversing with Dainsleif here and there,” you continue to wipe the tables, not noticing that the man you were talking about had long entered the tavern already and was now standing behind the two of you.

“At least he’s handsome, there’s that,” (Your friend) adds. 

“Sure, but that’s not the only reason I like him,” you laugh.

What he does:

Wonders if he heard the conversation right and overanalyzes what you mean by “like” him.

Either way it stirs a strange emotion in him, one that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Prefers to get things over with and thinks there’s no harm in confronting you immediately.

You hear someone clear their throat behind you. Thinking that it was a customer you turn around with a pleasant smile, only for it to slowly dwindle down into a shocked expression.

Dainsleif.

“Y/N,” he nods his head towards you casually. You gulp, force a smile, and nod back. “Hi, you’re early today,” just as your friend slips away from the conversation. Dainsleif doesn’t even spare them a glance.

He doesn’t have much to say about your comment of him being early. He doesn’t particularly know why he was early today either. Perhaps...fate would have him hear the conversation between you and (Your friend).

“Yes, well, it looks like there were benefits to being early today,” he meets you eye to eye, the intensity in his gaze almost makes you blush from your neck all the way up to the top of your head, but you fought the giddiness back. 

“...What can I get you?” there’s a shiver that threatens to run up your spine, wondering if your deflection was successful. Dainsleif closes his eyes momentarily, before opening them with a strange sense of courage. 

“Your company,”

Diluc

“It’s been years,” (Your friend) says, the two of you looking up at the massive oak tree of Windrise. They glance at you from the side of their eye before continuing. “Are you still in love with Diluc?”

There’s a breeze that passes, almost melancholic, and partly whispered of sorrow. “...I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving him.” You pick your hand up to rub at your arm. “Jean, Kaeya, Diluc and I...So many things have changed since we were kids...but I don’t think that spot for Diluc will ever go away,”

“Does he know, at least?” (Your friend) asks and you half scoff. 

“I’m not sure, I get the feeling he does, but doesn’t act on it. Which is why...maybe the only way to solve this emptiness is to leave Mondstadt altogether.” 

“Out of sight, out of mind huh?” (Your friend) claps your back, and turns around to start walking away with you.

What he does:

Internally a mess of emotions. Doesn’t know where to start. 

but he’s just standing there and he’s stuck watching (your friend) and you turn around to come face to face with him. 

He looks at you, a wave of memories and emotions flashing through his mind all at once, it almost overwhelms him. 

“D-Diluc,” you stutter, heart freezing in your chest. You see him take a steadying breath in, prying his gaze away from you and over to (Your friend).

“(Your friend), could you give us a minute?” he asks. (Your friend) obliges, passing you a quick glance before going ahead on their own. Another breeze runs by, ruffling his long red hair. 

“...I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” you start, and yet he doesn’t say anything, prompting you to continue talking. “...You don’t have to think about it too much, it’s just silly--”

“I wasn’t sure,” he cuts you off, eyes drawn to the ground now. “I wasn’t sure...if you really felt that way.” 

The statement somehow exasperates you. “You weren’t sure? All those times I stayed by your side when everyone else left--” then it hits you. “Or were you scared, Diluc?”

The quick grimace in his expression tells you the answer. His reply comes a few seconds later, “I was, I still am,” but he picks his head up, and finally looks you straight in the eye. “...but this time...” his fists clench on his side. “This time give me the chance to show you how much I really care about you,”

He was not going to lose you too.

Itto

“Seriously?! Itto? Arataki Itto? Are you for real?” (Your friend) announces to nearly half of the food stall, the other customers swerving around to look at the two of you. 

"Oh, say it a bit louder why don’t you?” You roll your eyes at your friend and continue eating.”

“Sorry. I just--Out of all the people you could choose, your huge crush is on that big brute??” your can tell by the look on your friend’s face that they think you have weird tastes.

What he does:

Butts in without even thinking of the conversation. Has no clue what’s going on.

“Crush?!”

You and your friend startle, swerving around to see none other than the oni with his hands on his hips. “Y/N?! You planning on crushing me?!” then he guffaws with laughter, slapping his knees in the process. “Yeah right, you’re no match for me!”

Your previously gaped open mouth slowly closes and your shoulders relax, sighing. You’re a little disappointed he doesn’t get it at all. Your friend shakes their head with a long sigh. “You stupid oaf, we don’t mean it that way...” 

Itto’s head tilts sideways, a genuinely confused look on his face. “No? Then... Watcha all talkin about?” 

You grab your friend’s arm and pull them forward the slightest bit. “It’s not important! Actually, we better get going--”

“Y/N has a CRUSH on you, idiot! Y/N LIKES you!” Your friend explodes, patience long gone. 

Itto blinks at the confession, his eyes darts towards you, “...Oh,” then there’s the slight tugging at his chest, he can’t help but beam and smile silly. “Yeah? You’re not too bad yourself Y/N! I like you too!”

You’re not sure if he really understood the confession in its entirety. 

Kaeya

“It’s all just fun and games with Kaeya. It doesn’t mean anything,” you laugh sheepishly, yet you rub the back of your neck a little.

“...Do you want it to be just fun and games?” your friend chides, and there’s a moment of silence. The two of you just sitting there already knowing the answer, it’s almost uncomfortable, until your friend sighs. 

“...Let’s change the subject,” 

What he does: 

responds immediately. Will not wait a second longer to come out of his hiding place and ask about what he just heard.

“How about let’s not?” Kaeya emerges out of nowhere, slipping into the seat next to you at the cafe. His poise is confident and instantly his head lazily places itself into the palm of his hand, gaze lingering at you. 

“Snowflake, I had no idea you felt like that,” his voice is smooth like ice and you bite your lip to keep yourself from saying something stupid.

“...I didn’t say anything though?” you countered, trying to evade the conversation. Your friend watches on with interest. 

“Silence speaks volumes, Y/N,” Kaeya scoots even closer to you, your shoulders touching each other. However, he maneuvers his arm around to lay on the seat behind you. “So if you’re opposed to what I’m about to do, better speak up,”

He leans closer, inch by inch, he waits for you to say something.

You stay silent.

He grins.

Scaramouche

“Hat guy? He’s brutal. But who am I to comment on your tastes, Y/N. You’ve always been weird,” (Your friend) chides, watching as you go over the bookshelf again. 

“Stop calling him that,” You murmur under your breath, more focused on finding the right book for your research. “That’s not his only distinctive feature, you know,” you continue, still engrossed in looking for a book.

“Oh? What else are his “distinctive features”?” (Your friend) drawls, rolling their eyes. 

You hum a little, then plop on the ground cross-legged, wanting to get a better look on the last row of books of the Akademiya’s library. “...His eyes,” you simply answer. “They’re a beautiful shade of violet-blue...He’s always glaring at someone half of the time but he actually has very pretty eyes,” 

There’s silence and you finally get the peace you need to concentrate. However, that silence is broken by a voice that you know all too well.

What he does:

is amused.

thinks its cute pathetic.

will still look angry but will have a hard time actually being angry.

will be cocky.

“My eyes, huh?”

It’s hard to completely turn around in your sitting position, so you do the best you can to turn, side eye landing on Scaramouche’s form. He has his arms crossed as usual, but there’s a smug smirk on his face. “Didn’t know it was that fascinating to you, bookeater,”

It was supposed to be an insulting nickname for you, who always had your nose in a book, but you took no offense to it at all.

You didn’t know what to say, so you continued staring at him. He being the anti-social person that he was, just stared back. There was a big gap of silence before he felt that it was becoming too awkward. 

“...What’re you looking for?” he blurted out.

“...A book...”

“Are you stupid? Of course you’re looking for a book. I meant what’s the title?” There his usual sneer was back again and he unfolded his arms to look at you unimpressively. 

“...A History of Inazuma: Volume 2...” you meekly replied, slowly realizing that he actually heard you praising him.

“You’re in the wrong section,” the exasperated sigh he gives out causes you to wince, and you turn away back to the bookshelf as if to shield you from all this embarrassment. 

“If it’s about Inazuma, you should just be asking me,” you blink as your peripheral catches sight of an outstretched hand. You tilt your head to see that he’s offering his hand, but his face is blank.

“...Well? Come on. I don’t have all day,”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling, something about the way he said it sounds threatening, but also slightly playful. But that’s just the way he was. 

You accept his hand, and he pulls you up easily.

Xiao

“Oh so that’s why you’re coming over more frequently...” (Your friend) grins, and you wave your hands around to tell them to quiet down. Adepti had good hearing after all.

“Well, I’m also coming over cause Verr Goldet needs more help these days in the kitchen. You guys are getting so much customers these days that Yanxiao has a hard time by himself,”

“Uhhuuhhhhhh, sure...was it also Verr Goldet who told you to try and master the Almond Tofu recipe from Yanxiao? Cause you’re awfully hell bent on trying to learn that recipe, according to Yanxiao,” 

You fall silent, feeling heat crawling up your neck. “I--” You start, searching for an excuse, but realized there was no escaping this one. “I just want to do something nice for Xiao, that’s all,” you innocently quip. “I...I know I can’t help him much, but maybe just cooking his favourite dish will help, even a little,”

(Your friend) smiles a little, knowing that the adepti probably heard everything. “That’s nice of you, Y/N. You must care about him a lot,” 

What he does:

once upon a time he would do absolutely nothing. because getting involved with humans is something he shouldn’t do.

But now he bides his time, and observes if it’s safe to open up. 

He wouldn’t outright thank you at first, but he’ll slowly show up in front of you a little more everyday.

He’s rather awkward, so at first he only nods his head as thanks when you leave the bowl of almond tofu on the ledge.

Eventually when he realizes you’re not going to stop cooking for him he goes the extra mile to do something simple for you too.

He places a stalk of your favourite flower on the ledge, right before you come to put down his bowl of almond tofu. 

I’ve published The Ruthless Prince (Reader x Scaramouche) on paperback. Check it out here:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BVD1VVFP

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[estrellogy]

Astro Notes Pt. 3

I have a lot of thoughts and observations that I want to share 😭 If you have any recommendations, please let me know as well 🤍

- People often see 7th house as their ideal partner, but YOU are meant to embrace traits of that sign for growth.

For example, a Libra rising will begin to see more personal growth after learning positive traits from Aries e.g. Being more assertive, believing in themselves instead of looking for others’ approval, putting themselves first, etc.

- This might be a controversial opinion, but I don’t think minor asteroids influence your chart. Asteroids like Bride, Groom, and other very specific ones. The interpretations for them can usually be found somewhere in your main placements already. It can make you over complicate your chart and feel even more disconnected with yourself because you don’t focus on your core energy.

Not every small detail about you has to be explained by astrology. At the end of the day, you’re a person with free will and complex experiences that shape you beyond astrology. This is just a tool, not a determiner of your life.

- Pluto in 5th house 🤝 destroying/deleting your creative works when they’re not up to your standards

- The difference between Venus/Pluto hard versus soft aspects is in their expression. They all are intense, magnetic, and obsessive to some degree. However, hard aspects have a harder time owning these traits so they tend to swing between extremes (e.g. total obsession and then indifference). The soft aspects are just as intense and can have the same toxic tendencies as the hard aspects, BUT they have an easier time accepting it as a part of them and seem more ‘stable’.

- 6th house placements are so overlooked! That’s literally the house of your health and daily life. I notice that when you work with your 6th house energy effectively, other areas of your life also improve.

It’s interesting that 6th house comes right before 7th house of relationships. In order to be in a relationship with someone else, you have to take good care of yourself first!

- Aries and Mars aspects (especially hard ones) can overpower other aspects in your chart until you learn how to master that energy and channel them into something productive

- Jupiter in 12th house used to be seen as negative. But I think Jupiter here is one of the luckiest placements to have. This is the placements of coincidences happening in their favors, things lining up in crazy ways, book falling off the shelf right at the page they need to read. Their experiences feel divine.

They are very connected to the Universe, Source, Spirit Guides, or whatever you believe in! Anyone can with practice, but these things come more naturally for them.

- Shoutout to my Virgo Venus and Capricorn Mars for being the only things that stop me from going off the rails 😍

- Saturn in 11th house often feel unloved by the people around them due to earlier experiences with rejection. Saturn is trying to teach them to unconditionally accept themselves. Also, those bad experiences teach them how to read people a lot better and spot the ones with bad intentions. The reward from Saturn will be genuine, solid, and loyal friendships/connections.

I’m so glad you guys enjoy these silly notes! I have a ton of fun making them 😭

[lizzieisright]

I actually asked another creator this too, but if your requests ARE open, can you do a comfort fic where Abby starts dating reader and it's like her first relationship outside of a manipulative/controlling/abusive relationship? where abbys just super sweet and reassuring and just :((

I love your writing sm so!!

Palestine: what can you do

I'm ready to suffer (and I'm ready to hope)

Okay actually I saw these amazing women who are paediatric PTs on youtube and thought Abby would make an amazing paediatric PT, so this is modern au! 

Tw for the mentions of abusive situations. 

/-/-/-/-/-/-

When you finally leave Sandy you swear to not ever date again.

And you don’t.

You find a therapist and start spending more time with your friends again. They’re incredibly supportive of you and they don’t let you sit at home, always asking you to hang out or go somewhere. They’re eager to introduce the world back to you and it’s wonderful, but you’re exhausted. Sandy took every piece of you and it's damn hard work to gain it back, and dealing with the fear of being shamed for not having a good time when your friends put so much effort into it is very hard. It takes a lot of reminders from them to make you feel okay, but somewhere in your mind you still expect them to blow out on you. They never do.

And you start to feel like you’re in a good place now. Of course, when we feel like we’re finally free, the Universe needs us to remember how much work is still ahead of us. Your reminder comes to your work at the end of the work day on Friday with a bouquet of lilies that smell as suffocating as the person holding them.

“Hi baby.” Sandy smiles at you, but you don’t move closer than 3 feet. You want to go around her if she had a bomb in these flowers.

The good thing - you expected it. You weren’t surprised to see her here, so she lost her element of shock that would have disarmed you.

“What do you want?” You ask coldly.

“Come on baby, it’s Friday! I thought it would be a good time for us to go on a date, discuss what happened and you know, make up. I miss you.”

You clench your fists. She wants to discuss what happened - is she ready to admit her mistakes and change? Is it a sign that everything will work out this time?

No. No “this time”.

“I have plans.”

The angry furrow on Sandy's face just proves you made the right decision. The bouquet falls on the floor and she starts crying.

“I thought you loved me!” Sandy howls and your colleagues are now paying attention to the whole situation. “You have a date, don't you? Already moved on, huh? Fucking slut.”

It's humiliating, but you understand with horror that you're used to it. It's not the first time when your coworkers see Sandy in this state.

“I'm just hanging out with Niki.” You reassure Sandy because you don't want to hurt her - she is a human after all and she was always so jealous, so insecure about your loyalty. People betrayed her in the past, and you have a hard time blaming her.

“Of course, the moment I'm out of the picture Niki is there to lick your wounds! I bet she does more than just licking your wounds.”

The shame flares up and you take a breath. You slipped up. You fell for her shit again.

“It doesn't concern you anymore.”

You don't wait for her answer, too scared she will get to you again. You turn around and go into the office where she will not be allowed to follow.

At your next appointment with your therapist, you're pissed off at yourself.

“Why did I even speak to her? I knew it would end badly!”

“Well, it's normal to speak to people when they speak to you. You told her you're busy and she tried to manipulate you again, but you slowed down, noticed what she was doing, and made the right decision. I'd say this situation shows how much progress you've made. You protected yourself.”

These words bring you back to reality. You sigh.

“She will come to my work again.”

Dr. Spencer hums.

“You told me before that you would like to explore different opportunities in your work field. Maybe you should take yourself on that.”

This is how you end up getting a job as the nurse in a paediatric clinic. It is in a different place of the city and takes a different route, so Sandy won’t be able to catch you at a metro station if she tries. You don’t tell your colleagues where you’re going, just saying you wanted to take time for yourself and relax, removing the possibility of Sandy finding you again.  

You're excited - working with kids and helping them seems like an opportunity to heal something in yourself by doing something good. The head of the clinic, Sevika, gives you a tour after your final interview to meet the team and she also introduces you to the doctor you’ll be working with.

“Doctor Anderson?” Sevika calls when you enter the office. “Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah, hang on.” The voice of this woman is soft and friendly, and it reassures you.

“I want you to meet your new nurse.”

Something falls and you hear a children’s song playing and the room is not illuminated by different colours. Adorable.

“Sorry, it’s a mess here.” You hear her voice again and then Dr. Anderson emerges.

You just stare. She is tall and has broad shoulders, her compression shirt under her scrubs shows off her muscled arms - which is expected, she is a PT - her blonde hair is braided and her braid rests on her shoulder. Dr. Anderson is incredibly pretty, and you’re a woman enough to admit it and stay professional.

“Hi. I’m Abby.” Dr. Anderson smiles and holds her hand for a handshake.

You tell her your name and shake her hand - god, the grip these women have here.

“Would you walk Ms. (Y/n) through everything here?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Dr. Anderson shows you everything: where is all the equipment, the toys for kids, the changing room. She tells you all about the protocols - which you’re familiar with as well, except for dealing with overprotective parents and dealing with kids’ pain: at your previous clinic you mostly worked with adults.

“I’m very excited.” You admit after your tour is finished.

“Yeah?” Dr. Anderson grins. “Be prepared to learn a lot of baby songs.”

You laugh and feel very optimistic. You feel like you can have your life back now.

Your first day might not go as smoothly as you wanted, but Dr. Anderson is patient with you. She doesn’t snap at you when you follow her instruction wrong for the third time and doesn’t tell you off after patients leave. She just gives you tips and leaves it to you to correct it. You don’t know if she notices how you flinched in fear when you made a mistake the first time or if she is always like this, but you’re grateful anyway.

The kids are adorable and resilient, they don’t give up and it makes you cry a little. The way Dr. Anderson praises them and holds them and explains to parents what she is doing is admirable. Watching her hold a 3yo toddler on her palms is equally impressive and attractive. Dr. Anderson is attractive, it’s hard not to be drawn to her, but you shove your emotions deep, deep down - it’s incredibly unprofessional. You complain about it to Dr. Spencer and she just chuckles and reminds you, “Attraction happens unconsciously and you can’t control it, so stop fighting it.” It annoys you that she is right.

After three months working together you become friends and you call Dr. Anderson Abby now. Because honestly, she looks absolutely ridiculous in her Hello Kitty cap. You find your rhythm and now you work extremely smoothly - you know exactly when the kid needs to be distracted or when Abby needs your help during different exercises.

And Abby doesn’t tell you - because she is also aware how unprofessional she is - but she adores you. You’re so good with kids it makes Abby jealous sometimes, how you somehow know what exactly will stop the kid from crying. You’re also good with her - you take as much as possible from her shoulders and Abby now has someone to rely on.

She knows she is ears deep in love when you send her a video of a bright squeaky octopus and tell her you’re going to buy it for her office and then a few days later you admit to her that it’s actually a dog toy and you got in a pet section. Abby cackles and promises not to tell anyone. Especially since the octopus is a hit with a few kids she is treating.

Abby is desperate. She knows she can’t ask you on a date, but love makes a fool out of the best of us, so on the day that marks four months since you’ve been working together, Abby goes to Sevika’s office to embarrass herself.

“You’re embarrassing yourself, Dr. Anderson.” Sevika tells her as much. “Ms. (Y/n) is not employed by you and you have no authority over her. Ask the girl out and don’t waste my time. If it goes south I’ll just send her to Grayson.”

“Thanks, Sevika.”

“Get the fuck out, Anderson.”

Abby laughs and goes back to work, hopeful.

And Abby is not delusional - you do like her. She is caring and patient and funny as hell. But you’re too scared both because you’re her nurse and because as much as you work in therapy, Sandy doesn’t let go of you. Dr. Spencer had to deal with your multiple spirals after you started working with Abby and fucking up or thinking you’re fucking up. “Now name me 10 things that are different about Dr. Anderson and Sandy” was said at least 5 times. Well, your life is routine based so you schedule your spirals once a month, it seems.

So yes, you like Abby a lot. But you’re so broken that when Abby finally gains courage and,

“Do you have plans this weekend?”

“Sleep for 12 hours counts?” You laugh, oblivious.

“Would you-“ Abby takes a big breath and now you’re panicking, scared she’ll tell you something mean. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

You just stand there and stare at her in shock. Abby gives you time, but her nerves are not that strong, so she gives up when the silence starts to feel too big.

“I’m sorry.” Abby says as politely as possible, not wanting to burden you with her disappointment. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I-uh- no, it’s okay! I just- I didn’t expect it.” You say while anxiety is buzzing inside you. “I upset you, I’m sorry.” You cringe when you understand you projected onto Abby again.

“Hey, it’s totally fine. I understand, believe me.” Abby smiles.

You’re too scared to agree - you don’t feel like you’re ready for dating - so you let the awkward silence fill the room.

That evening you spend overthinking, convincing yourself Abby deserves better, that you’re not good enough for her and you can’t involve her in your issues.

“So Dr. Anderson, who you like, likes you back?” Dr. Spencer asks when you retell her the whole story. “Why don’t you tell her you’d go on a date with her?”

“Because I’m not what she needs. She needs someone who is better than whatever I am.” Dr. Spencer nods compassionately. She wants to bring your attention to how you speak about yourself, but she chooses to go on a different route.

“Don’t take her choice away. Let her decide what she needs. After all, who is the expert on her needs?”

“She is.” You admit and feel like you can breathe again. You're not responsible for Abby's choices, so you can't decide for her. It makes you feel free.

Abby is not having the time of her life on Saturday evening, moping around and cringing at herself for asking you out and reading the situation wrong, when her phone rings. She sees your contact and her heart speeds up from anxiety and hope.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s me. I-um. I’m sorry for yesterday, I was just- Sorry, not the point. Is your offer still standing?” You sound extremely nervous and it’s cute. Abby smiles and chuckles, happy.

“Yes. Of course.” She says softly and hears your shaky sigh. “Are you free tomorrow?”

You’re very nervous on your first date with Abby - you don’t want to upset her. So you dress and redress and redress until you think you don’t look too embarrassing. Abby smiles and compliments your outfit when she sees you, and some of your anxiety goes away. You’re painfully aware that you feel like you’re walking on eggshells during your date - Abby took you to an art gallery and then to dinner - and you know it’s not because of Abby. Abby has been so sweet and considerate the whole time and you’re sure she doesn’t feel comfortable with how tense you are at some moments, but the past still grips you tightly.

So you come clean to her when you go for a walk after dinner.

“I’m sorry I’ve been weird.” You start and Abby looks at you to show that she is listening. “My past relationship was not great and I’m dealing with the aftermath now. Sometimes it’s hard for me to stay grounded in reality.” You’re so deeply ashamed of yourself you can’t look at Abby. You expect her to dump you right away, or laugh at you, or call you weird, but nothing like this happens.

“Oh.” She says, surprised. She thought you were just shy, but it makes sense. “Thank you for telling me. Is it why you didn’t agree to the date when I asked you on Friday?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” You cringe, but Abby looks at you softly.

“Don’t. We all have our battles. I’m glad you called me back.”

You can’t help your smile. Abby can’t help but to ask if she can kiss you.

The first sign of how “not great” your past relationship was happens three weeks into dating. It was the end of the day and you were packing your things when your phone made a sound. You quickly checked it and then looked at Abby, panicked. Abby stops packing her bag, worried.

“Did something happen?”

“N-no. My friend just texted me. She asked me if we could go for drinks.” You admit, scared to lie to Abby and scared she will not be pleased with you. “Can I?”

“Can you what?” Abby asks, confused, but your mind is registering it as anger. You take a breath to calm down.

“Can I go? If you don’t want me to, I won’t, I promise.”

Abby stops completely. Her heart breaks when she understands what is happening, and why it’s happening.

“Baby, hey. Take a breath, yeah?” She speaks softly and comes closer to you to hold your hands gently. “I’m not going to be mad if you go anywhere, especially to meet your friends. You don’t need to ask my permission, okay? You’re your own person with your own life.”

You sniffle and Abby coos and hugs you tightly.

“I’m sorry.” You say into her shoulder. “I just-“

“It takes time to heal. I understand.” You cry even harder in her arms. “I promise I’m not going to be mad about it. Can’t be sure about Kyle though.”

You laugh through your tears - Kyle is a two year old who is obsessed with the noises you can make. It’s the only thing that keeps him calm when he does his exercises, and you have to be in the room during his appointments.

“Thank you.” You tell Abby honestly and she kisses your forehead.

You’re still nervous when you go to see Niki the next day, but Abby just tells you to be safe and call her if you need her, and that she can pick you up if you want her to. You’re not sure, and you tell her that, and that you will text her if you change your mind. It’s scary, to put a boundary, but Abby just kisses your cheek and tells you to have fun.

“You look so happy.” Niki tells you after you caught up on mundane news and gossip.

“I’m actually dating someone.” You confess and Niki's mouth hangs open in a dramatic shock.

“Really? And how is it going? What’s her name? Do you have a picture?”

“Her name is Abby. We work together, and she is amazing.” You giggle and show Niki one of the pictures you took together when you were fooling around at the clinic.

“Wow. She looks strong.” Niki winks and you get flustered. “I hope she treats you well.”

“I told her about Sandy. She has been very patient with my bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit.” Niki frowns, stubborn. “Sandy is a fucking psycho and she really hurt you.”

“Abby told me she can pick me up if I want her to, but I’m not sure. It’s hard to understand what is normal behaviour and what is not.” You admit and Niki squeezes your bicep, showing her support.

“Well, when we hung out while you were with Sandy, she texted you constantly and then showed up ten minutes later to drag you out of here.”

“It wasn’t like this at first.”

“No, at first she was just constantly texting you and asking you about stupid shit.” Niki says pointedly and eyes your phone that hasn't made a sound during the whole evening. "I think your girlfriend just cares about you. You know, like a decent person."

You end up texting Abby and asking her to come when you and Niki feel like it’s time to go home. Abby replies with a thumb up, and then 20 minutes later she enters the pub and smiles at you. You introduce Niki to Abby and they shake hands while you laugh at Niki’s face when she gets to experience a handshake with a PT.

“Are you ready to go or do you guys want to have some more time? I’ll wait.” Your heart feels swollen from feelings: Abby is so sweet you can’t help but nuzzle into her side. “I feel like this is the answer.” She chuckles and Niki coos at you two.

“Let’s go.” Niki smiles like a fox, happy to see you happy.

“Do you have a ride?” Abby asks Niki while she gives you her forearm to hold on to. “We can drop you off.”

“No, I called a taxi already.” She smiles and winks at you.

When you go outside Abby takes off her jacket and places it around you shoulders and you smile like a lovesick idiot. It’s not even this chilly, but Abby still thinks of your comfort.

When Niki is safe in her taxi, you both get inside Abby’s car as well.

“Did you have fun?”

“Yeah.” You smile.

“Good.”

The fights, as it turns out, are not scary or loud or violent - you’re baffled by the fact that Abby actually listens to you when you voice your concerns. You expect her to lash out or tell you you’re imagining things or that you’re making a villain out of her, but nothing like this happens. Abby has her own issues: she is very problem-solving focused and her first reaction is “how can I/we fix this”, and it hurts when you actually want her to comfort you, but you both learn how to deal with it. You honestly can’t even call them fights, they’re more like troubleshoots.

What is scary is that the first few times when you voice your problems and Abby reacts like a normal person, you bottle up your anxiety. You exhaust yourself with overthinking: is Abby going to leave you? Are you too much to handle? Are you being a burden? How long before your stupid whims will make Abby sick of you?

You can’t bear it. You see how patient Abby is with kids, how she pushes them just enough for them to progress and evolve, how kind she is, how she calls them “sirs” and “ma’ams” when they do something on their own, and all you can think is that you don’t deserve her. How amazing Abby is and how fucked up you are, and how much problems you cause.

You’re spiralling, and you know it, able to recognise your own insanity now, but you can’t stop it. But the one thing Dr. Spencer taught you is to speak up, and one day, when you’re at Abby’s place, you find your courage to speak up.

“Am I being too much?”

“Hm?” Abby is confused. She is often confused when your issues come out of nowhere. “What do you mean?”

“Will you break up with me because I ask for too much?” You ask quietly, really trying to ignore how your voice shakes because you’re on the verge of tears.

Abby stares at you for a second, but in the next she is hugging you. The dam inside you breaks and you sob into her chest, letting all anxiety go out.

“I will not leave you. I’m here. You don’t ask for too much, baby, you barely ask for anything. Ask for more, ask the world from me, okay? Ask for the most ridiculous shit, it’ll only make me love you more.” Abby murmurs and your sobs get louder. “Let it out, yeah, let it out. I love taking care of you, it’s my favourite thing in the world.”

“I’m just so scared.” You say into Abby’s chest as you cling to her. “I want to be deserving of you.”

“Baby, you’re deserving of me just by existing. You’re here and this alone makes me happy.”

Abby lets you cry it out and then brings you some water when you calm down. You are still vulnerable and anxious, but Abby cuddles you and talks to you to soothe you. 

“Do you think I'm weak?” You ask her ten minutes later and Abby chuckles. 

“Quite the opposite, actually. I don't think if I went through what you did I would ever let myself trust someone again. But you are brave. And you're so incredibly kind and thoughtful. The only weakness you have is probably sweets.” You both chuckle. “And I'm very angry that there's a person who dared to hurt you like this and put this bullshit into your head. Honestly, can you give me her address? I know exactly how to break her bones.”

“Can you promise to tell me if dealing with me gets tiring?”

“Of course.” Abby promises you genuinely, because she knows this moment might come - she is only human. But she knows that even when this moment comes, she will be by your side. 

+ 1 nsfw

When you first have sex you're both very worked up and you cling to Abby impatiently, clawing at her shirt and her pants, not really sure what you want to be gone first. Abby thinks it's cute, how needy you are, and she tells you as much before she can think.

“Someone is needy, huh?” She teases you and expects you to get flustered, but instead you freeze and look at her, wide eyed and hurt. 

“Sorry.” You say, ashamed, and Abby's heart breaks. She takes your face into her palms and looks into your eyes with such tenderness you have to look away. 

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like this. I like how enthusiastic you are. It makes me feel wanted.” Abby smirks and your cheeks heat up. “Is there… is there anything I need to be careful about?”

“I’m not really good at sex.” You admit. “I wasn't able to make my ex cum.” You don't tell Abby the whole story, you don't want to ruin the mood, but Sandy was never happy with your skills: she had to watch porn on her phone to get aroused when you topped. And she hated when you didn't do as she wanted when you bottomed and how needy and pathetic you were. 

“Well. I don't trust your ex’s opinion since she is a piece of shit.” Abby smirks. “And sex it not about destination-”

“It’s about the journey, I know.” You chuckle. Dr. Spencer likes this saying so much. You take a breath and brace yourself: you know sex is not a place where you can hide something from Abby without hurting you both. Honesty is crucial in sex. “I don't think I can undress fully. Can I leave my shirt on?”

“Of course. Can I- can I still touch you under it? I really wanna feel how soft your tits are.”

You hide your face in embarrassment and giggle. You nod and Abby kisses your cheek.

“If you don't enjoy something, tell me, yeah? And if you want we can really make your ex look stupid.” 

“How?”

“With you I really don't need much to cum. One stroke wonder if you will.”

You snort and hit Abby's shoulder. 

“You're horrible.”

Abby grins and kisses you. You do make Sandy look stupid that night, when Abby's thighs close around your head and she cums on your face so hard your ears start to ring. 

[penelopepine]

Don't be a stranger! Pt. 2

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Simon "Ghost" Riley x FemReader

Content: Neighbors AU, fluff, developing relationship

"If you're going to insist on making dinner for the both of us I might as well pay for the groceries." Simon was standing next to your door waiting for you to finish getting ready. You had asked him this morning what he wanted for dinner as you were going to the store after work and could get anything he wanted.

"Me making dinner for you is supposed to be a thank you for helping me Simon. I love that you're joining me, but I'm not going to let you pay."

"We'll see."

You finally walk out of your bedroom towards Simon, "Your job on this trip is going to be pushing the cart and looking pretty. I'm going to be grabbing everything and paying." Giving Simon a playful glare as the two of you makes your way out the door.

Pretty?

Do you really think he looks pretty? 

-

Simon hated grocery shopping; he has always felt that it was a waste of time, far too many people walking around, and the lights in here were almost blinding. He’s not happy to be here, but he also wasn’t going to let you continue to let you do all this work and not help in some way. 

At the very least shopping with you did make the experience more enjoyable. All he had to do was follow you. Letting you take control of where they went and did was strangely freeing from his usual day to day. Plus getting to just watch and listen to you ramble about your day was not something he was going to give up now that he’s here. 

"You know you still haven't told me what you wanted. I've been making my favorites every time you come over; it's your turn now to decide the menu." 

"I've been living off military mess hall food for most of my life. Anything you make is going to be a favorite of mine, love."

"How about you tell me at least one thing you want?" 

"Anything I want?"

"Anything!" 

You. 

That is the answer Simon wants to say, but he knows he can't, "I like shepherd’s pie.” 

“Shepherd’s pie it is!” You say, giving him a wide grin. 

The rest of the shopping is mostly uneventful. It isn't until the two of you were at the end of your grocery list did you seem to realize something was missing. 

“Oh, meet me at the front! I forgot to add apples to the list; I’ll go grab it real quick.” 

Before Simon could even disagree and say he’d just go with you; your figure was already speeding away from him. Slowly he made his way to the front of the store out of the way of others to wait. It wasn’t until eight minutes later when he saw no sign of you that he started to worry. 

It took all but a moment to find you, and he was not pleased with what he saw when he did. A man was standing far too close to you. The uncomfortable look on your face only served in sealing the man’s fate. 

Neither of you seemed to notice as he walked closer, but he was able to finally hear your conversation now. 

“-on, just one date. I promise I’ll make it worth it.” 

"My boyfriend is waiting for me; you need to leave me alone." You try to step around him, but the man is quick to side step in front of you and makes a move to grab you. Simon would happily beat the man into the ground, but he doesn’t want to frighten you. So he does the next best thing which is to rail the man with the cart. 

With a loud grunt the man falls onto the ground holding his side in pain. 

“She said to leave her alone. So why don’t you crawl away now like the worm you are.” Simon snarls down at him. Moving the cart and himself to stand between you and the man. 

"What the fuck man!" 

"I'll give you five seconds to get out of here." Simon wasn't about to have a pointless back and forth with this guy. The only thing he cared about right now was getting him away from you.

He stands slowly and glares in your direction before practically running away from Simon and you.

As soon as his figure disappears from sight Simon turns to you and gently grips your shoulder; tucking you into his side as he guides you back to the front of the store.

"Thank you for doing that; you didn't have to but I really appreciate it." 

"It's no problem," Simon continued his hold on your shoulder; not wanting to yet let go of you, "If anyone messes with you send them my way. I'll deal with them." 

You give him a smile in return. "That was honestly really funny by the way; hitting him with the cart." 

"I would have ran him over with it, but I didn’t want you having to find a new grocery store because I got the two of us banned." 

You laugh at his words and it makes his chest feel tight. He almost wants to record it just so that he could take it with him anywhere he goes. 

"C'mon, let's get out of here before they change their minds then!" 

Simon had of course won in the end when it came to who was going to be paying. He knew he would, but you still put in a good fight to beat him to it. He’d let you win in a lot of things, but this wasn’t one of them. 

-

It wasn’t until the two of you were sitting in your flat after eating did you seem to notice that he had been acting more reserved than he normally would be. Of course you weren’t about to just let him stew in thoughts for long once you caught on to it. 

“What’s wrong Simon? You’re acting a lot broodier tonight.” 

“I’m leaving soon; next week.” There was no point in lying to you; Simon had gotten the call from Price just a couple of days ago. He had been wondering how he was going to break the news to you. 

“Leaving? So soon; do you know when you’ll be back?”

No he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you again. For all he knows the day he leaves could be the last day the two of you ever see each other again. “No, but I’ll see what I can do to come back soon.” 

“You better,” You give him a soft elbow jab to the side, “I’m gonna miss you y'know. I’ve gotten so used to having you around these past few weeks.” 

He had as well, almost regrettably so. Your presence in his life had done something to him that he’d never be able to undo. Simon wasn’t sure how he was going to feel not being able to see you. The daily morning walks, evening dinners, and weekend hangouts had quickly become a staple in his life. 

For now though the only thing he wanted to do was live in the moment. He didn’t have to say goodbye right now and he wasn’t going to act like he did while he was with you. That time would come later.

Taglist:

@nexthyperfix @spicyspicyliving

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

He's My Man (Part 3)

Summary: Russell's returned and it appears that the reader's past employment problems are behind her. But when a shirtless Russell invites her into his home and their flirting rises to new levels, the reader will have to grapple with a new reality she doesn't know how to deal with. Russell Shaw might just be the first good guy after all...

Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 3,500ish

Warnings: language, gun shot injury mention, smidge of angst, fluff

A/N: That ending though 👀

__________

The sun was shining high when you woke, streams of light filtering in through the large windows. You hummed as you sat up, Colter typing away at his laptop outside. There was no sign of Russell though, a frown forming on your face.

He hadn’t left already, had he? He’d promised to tell you what happened back home.

You quickly changed in Colter’s bedroom into your joggers and AC/DC shirt, deciding to try Russell’s gifts out. The bra felt amazing, especially after wearing the same dirty one for a few days in a row. Even the lilac underwear was softer than you expected. 

Outside you shrugged on one of Russell’s flannel’s, pouting when you saw his car was gone and yours was in it’s place.

“Morning,” said Colter, nodding towards where a cup of coffee laid waiting for you next to your chair.

“Hey,” you said, taking it without sitting. “I didn’t mean to sleep so late.”

“Not a problem. You haven’t been getting much lately.” You glanced around and noticed he was packed up for the most part, probably itching to get on the road. 

“You have a new case?” 

“Yeah. Oregon, not too far,” he said. He reached into his pocket, holding out your car keys. You wearily took them, Colter glancing over the top of your head. “I told him to stick around but he wanted to make sure it was ready for you.”

You raised an eyebrow, Colter shrugging.

“Apparently Russell has a place 45 minutes from here. Some cabin on a lake? I didn’t know he had a house. But uh, he hasn’t been there in awhile and he went on ahead to clean and stock up or something. He wants you to head up there so you can talk.”

“Oh. That’s…sweet.” You chugged back half your coffee, Colter eyeing you suspiciously. “What?”

“Nothing. Go have your talk.” You hummed, taking another sip. “You don’t owe him anything you know.”

“I know. We’re just friends.” Colter smirked. “You want to go down that road, Shaw? I can’t help but notice you and Reenie got that whole enemies to lovers vibe-”

“And that’s enough of that conversation,” he said, standing with a stretch. He reached into his pocket again, tossing you your phone. “Russell said it’s safe to carry again. Call if you ever need anything, Y/N.”

“Have I grown on you, Colter?” you teased. He rolled hie eyes as you handed him your empty mug. 

“Maybe. I’m working on the having friends thing.” 

“Well, you Shaw boys aren’t conventional but you’ve grown on me,” you said, opening your arms. “Come on. Let’s hug it out.”

“This is why I don’t do friends,” he half grumbled when he stepped into it, rubbing your back once more. “Hey and if you do think you want to try rewardist work, call me. We’ll talk, figure out a safe way for you to do this stuff.”

“What makes you think I won’t just go back home and do what I was before?” you asked. 

“Did you really want to do that crap again?” You frowned, shaking your head. He stepped back, pushing you towards the streamer. “That’s what I thought. Go pack. I’m sure Russell will be looking for you soon.”

One Hour Later

After leaving Colter with a promise to stay in touch, you arrived in a small town on the edges of a lake. It took a few minutes but your GPS eventually found the right road to head down. You had to question it when it told you that you’d arrived at your destination. The cabin Russell supposedly owned look more like a very expensive rustic mini-mansion some rich people would vacation to on the weekends.

Still, you pulled into the driveway and found Russell’s beat up car there. Cautiously you exited your car and went up the steps of the front porch, ringing the doorbell twice. A large wood door whipped open and you’d gotten your wish.

There was Russell before you. Damp hair slicked back, a few water droplets trailing down his broad chest and disappearing into the waist band of his navy sweatpants. You could see his tattoos scattered across his arm, a few on his wrist and thumbs and good god, how long had you been ogling his body?

Your head snapped up, Russell cockily leaning with one arm up against the doorframe wearing a satisfied smirk.

“Oh, please. Look all you want, babe.” You huffed and stormed past him, fighting the urge to turn around and see what his ass looked like in this skinny little joggers he had on. Nope. You had more self-control than that.

“You wish,” you said, surprised at the mixture of modern and rustic touches inside. “So you squatting here, Shaw?”

“I wish,” he chuckled, walking past you into the kitchen area, the smell of sandalwood and vanilla luring you to follow after. “I picked this place up after I got out of the military for cheap. Been renovating it room by room for the past decade.”

“Marble countertops?” you asked, rattling your knuckles against the white and silver veined surface. Russell leaned against the island, his biceps flexing with the movement. “I thought you said you aren’t made of money.”

“Maybe I want you to like me for me and not my wallet,” he said, looking at you through his eyelashes. “You know how much that visit to that little boutique set me back?”

“Oh, I think you can afford it,” you said, smiling as you slipped behind him, ruffling his damp strands. “Next time you want to buy me lingerie, just be a big boy and say so.”

“Here I was being thoughtful with no ulterior motives,” he said, standing and putting a hand to his chest. He frowned, closing his eyes in feigned pain. “I’m hurt, Y/N.”

“You can be thoughtful and at the same time admit you’d like to see what your choices look like.” He dropped his hand smiled.

“I really did buy them without expecting anything. I was there and thought a girl like you deserves something nice in her fucked up life.”

“I know, Russell,” you said quietly, offering him a smile. “I honestly do appreciate it.”

He nodded before going to his fridge and taking out a pair of waters, setting one on the counter near you. “You’re welcome. And if you were ever so inclined to want to show off my fashion choices, I suppose I could suffer through.”

“You’d really take that hit for the team wouldn’t you,” you teased. He hummed, crossing his arms.

“It’s a heavy burden but one I’m willing to bear.” You rolled your eyes and laughed quietly, slipping away before you got any closer to a half-naked Russell. 

You pretended to meander around the house, enjoying the openness compared to Colter’s airstreamer. A large fireplace sat in the corner and you could see through the glass doors to the back covered porch that another sat out there as well. 

“I made up the guest room.” You spun around, Russell pointing down a hallway. “Fresh sheets. Towels. I thought maybe you’d want to take a real shower and relax before you decide your next move.”

“Next move, huh.” You crossed your arms, looking out the back windows as dark clouds rolled in over the lake. “That your subtle way of saying I can’t go back home?”

Russell’s smile fell, quickly replaced with a neutral non-chalence you saw right through. He padded across the hardwoods over to your side, watching the clouds with you.

“I meant what I said last night. You’re safe. No one, and I mean no one, will ever come after you again. Go freshen up and we’ll talk after. I promise.”

“Fine. But only because Colter’s shower sucks.” You knew Russell was holding back something but you’d let it slide for the moment. A hot, long shower sounded amazing.

Forty minutes later you exited the guest suite with freshly washed hair, smooth legs and clean clothes. Alright, maybe they were Russell’s clothes he’d laid out on the bed for you but you weren’t complaining. 

“How was it?” he asked when you found him on the covered back porch, a hard rain coming down.

“I hate to sound like a girl but that was so much nicer than your brother’s tiny ass shower stall,” you said, enjoying the cool air on your flush skin. Russell refrained from saying anything about the black Stones shirt you had put on or the way you were drowning in his sweatpants. You ran your fingers through your hair, Russell watching you try to tame the mess it’d become. “You didn’t happen to pick up any hair ties or scrunchies when you clearly went to the store and got me stuff, did you?”

He reached into his pocket with a smile and a dark green scrunchie appeared on his wrist, your eyes wide. “Wait, really?”

“I’m smarter than I look,” he said. You nearly asked for it when you decided to turn around, presenting your back to him.

“Can you handle a messy bun?” you asked. A spark rang down your spine as he gathered up your hair on top of your head, gently pulling it together and securing it. You patted it when he finished, Russell taking a bow to an imaginary crowd. You put a hand on your hip, shaking your head. “Okay, how the hell do you know how to do that?”

“I could tell you but I’d have to kill you.” You rolled your eyes. “I learned it at special ops school.”

“Russ.” He laughed, taking a seat on the outdoor couch, arm over the back of it.

“I have a kid sister. I used to do her hair and shit when she was little.” You grinned, Russell holding up a finger.

“Don’t. Say-”

“Aw. What a good big brother you are,” you teased, sitting down next to him. Russell’s eyes glinted with a retort but he settled for letting his fingertips dance over your bare neck. Your breath hitched, Russell, cocking his head. “I can’t concentrate on what we need to talk about if you’re going to keep doing that.”

“Does that mean you don’t like it?” he asked, his body inviting you to tuck itself in right under that open arm. He grazed his fingers oh so lightly over your neck again and fuck, you wished he’d just grab hold and smash your lips to his already.

“You think just cause you’re sweet and thoughtful and hot and save a girl, you’ll win her over with your horrible flirting, just like that?” He leaned in close, so close you felt the heat radiating off his breath.

“I already won and she knows it. She just likes making me chase her.” You shivered when he thumbed over the back of your neck, a cocky smile on his face. “And she is a woman worth chasing so I will as long as she wants me to.”

You leaned in just when he pulled away and stood up, taking a seat in the chair opposite you with a big, stupid, cocky as fuck, smile on his face. 

“Fucker,” you growled. Russell only smiled harder. “You’re gonna pay for that.”

“Oh, I pray I do,” he said, putting his hands behind his head, licking his lips. Your eye twitched, Russell chuckling deeply. “That’s my little queen of darkness I adore.”

“We will continue this conversation later,” you said, cutting him off. Russell nodded, taking the zip up from nearby and unfortunately tugging it on over his bare chest.

“So,” he said, shoving his hands in the pockets, taking a deep breath. “You want to know what happened after you left.”

“That’d be nice, yes.” Russell pursed his lips, turning his head towards the downpour. “Russell. Come on.”

“I know you want details but I’m sorry, that’s not happening.” Your jaw dropped as he held up his hands. “You have had enough violence and death in your life. Now, I will answer your questions but I will use my discretion. You do not need…you don’t need that crap anymore. Please.”

Russell dropped his hand, leaning his elbows against his knees. When he looked up, his green eyes were somber and your heart did that flipping thing again.

“Are they all dead? The whole crew?” you asked quietly. He nodded. “That was like twenty five guys.”

“...Technically, they killed each other off. That’s why you didn’t hear about it in the news. Police are keeping it quiet.” 

“How…you tricked them?” you asked. He nodded again. “You’re sure all of them-”

“Every last one. Sides were drawn. Elpine and some of his crew got involved too, killed in the crossfire. There’s no mafia left there. No one will ever look for you again if you decide to go back.”

“If?” you asked. Russell shrugged.

“You were forced to do a job you didn’t want. You don’t want to patch up scummy guys off the street. You get to live the life you want to now. You can do that back in Virginia…or you can do a clean slate. Start over somewhere new.”

“You mean here. Stay here with you,” you said. You stood up, going to the railing, a cold breeze hitting you.

“This is a safe place and you can take as long as you need to figure out what you want to do.” You felt him behind you, his hands settling on your arms. “I have enough. I don’t want to be a private contractor forever. I am more than happy to walk away and start fresh myself.”

“Russell, you are asking a lot.”

“No I’m not.” You frowned, closing your eyes. “Despite…I’m not asking you to pick me. I’m not that crazy. I know we’re still figuring each other out. I’m asking you to pick yourself. I’m asking you to trust now that I am not like those people you worked with. You never have to pick me if that’s what you want and there are no stings attached. Ever. Just don’t go back there. Start over somewhere where life will be kind to you.”

He rubbed your arms once before you felt him move away. You glanced back over your shoulder, Russell going to the fireplace and squatting down in front of it. A moment later, flames appeared and he was tossing a few logs from nearby inside.

“Russell.” He hummed, adjusting a large log with a sharp poker. He kept his back to you for a long beat, slowly rising and setting the poker aside. When he finally looked at you, his face was neutral, void of any signs of how he actually felt. You fidgeted, tugging down the hem of your shirt awkwardly. “Put aside the flirting. You and me…it’s not going to work out.”

“You’re sure about that, are you?” You scoffed, Russell holding up his hands. 

You stormed over to him, stabbing a finger in his firm chest. “I am not whatever you think I am. I’m not a damsel looking for her white knight to come save her. I didn’t ask you to take care of my problem. You decided to do that, not me. I don’t owe you anything.”

He slowly blinked, staring down with the tiniest hint of a smirk. 

“Why are you always fucking smiling?” you growled. 

“Well if you’re going to be the grumpy then I got to be the sunshine.”

“We’re not a fucking trope! I-I don’t need you. I don’t need you to buy me things. Or do things for me. Or offer to let me stay in this beautiful house. I’ve spent my whole life alone. There is no such thing as a good guy. All you want is in my fucking pants so let’s just fuck and get this fucking thing over with so I can go the fuck home.”

Russell’s eyebrows raised. He nodded, crossing his arms. “I’m not fucking you.”

“What? That’s…you’ve been flirting the second we met!” 

“Oh, we’re past the hookup stage. We do this, it’s cause we’re the real deal.”

“Insufferable,” you muttered, going inside, pacing back and forth in the family room. To your extreme annoyance, Russell didn’t follow you. He just sat out there next to his fireplace, watching the rain come down. He really wasn’t going to talk to you about this? He was going to ignore you?

You huffed, wandering throughout the house and finding it frustratingly gorgeous. While it certainly leaned masculine as did most rustic style homes single men lived it, it felt…cozy. There was a warmth to it, even in the large expanses, that you hadn’t felt since you were a child. It was built almost like a retreat, Russell’s safe place away from the world.

You sat down on the top set of the stairs, frowning with your head in your hands.

Was there such a thing as a good guy? No, Russell wanted you for sex. A quick fuck. Maybe a fuck buddy at most but that was it. Right? He was a single man in his forties. Ex-military and he still did contracted black ops work. He was a trained killer. A deadly weapon hidden under a boyish smile and pretty face. There was no way he was a good guy that actually wanted a normal life.

“Do you always talk to yourself?” Your head snapped up, Russell giving you an awkward little wave from the landing a few feet away. You groaned, wiping your face off when you felt the trickle of tears on your cheeks. Russell stepped up and stopped, sitting down a few steps below you, close enough to reach out and grab your hand. 

“I should go,” you said. Russell simply held out his open palm, your own hands now held in your lap.

“Whether I’m good or bad, I’ll leave that up to somebody else to decide. I don’t live my life in the black and white. But I can tell you if I only wanted to screw you, I would never have invited you to my home.” You stared down at your lap, closing your eyes when his callused thumb wiped under your eye, pushing away a rogue tear. “You ain’t a damsel. You’re my queen of darkness, remember?”

Your lip twitched up briefly, Russell letting out some satisfied little sound.

“I meant what I said earlier. Stay. Rest. Figure out your next move on your own time. If me being here complicates that, I can duck out.”

“No.” You grasped his wrist, flicking open your eyes. His palm felt so hot to the touch, your heart skipping when he grazed your skin. “Stay here.”

“Okay then,” he said. He stood, leaning over and kissing your forehead. Then he was moving down the steps, whistling a peppy tune. “I’m going to make us some grilled cheese and tomato soup. Love me some grilled cheese.”

“Wait!” you called, following him down the stairs. Russell spun around at the bottom, smiling up at you. “Why…I…I-I don’t understand. You’re really just going to let me stay here? Without committing to anything?”

His face fell, brow furrowing. “You’re really starting to scare me, Y/N. When’s the last time there was someone decent in your life?”

“I’m not sure anymore,” you said quietly. “The idea of someone like you being so kind crosses a lot of wires in my head.”

“That’s why you keep freaking out when I’m not a dick and give you space.” You nodded, fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt again. He smiled, reaching up, offering his hand again. You let yours slip into it, Russell lacing your fingers together. “Well, I ain’t like other men, sweetheart. I promise you that.”

“Why me?” you asked, taking a step down, putting you at eye level with him. “I mean, why wouldn’t you want someone normal?”

“A normal girl sounds boring. Now queen of darkness? That sounds like a woman that’s badass enough to put up with me. Let’s stop freaking out, go make lunch, and let me try to help you what you want to do, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Perfect.” He pecked a kiss on your cheek, pulling you along after him. “So. Has a man ever cooked for you?”

You shook your head, Russell frowning. You yelped when he picked you up and sat you on the kitchen counter, caging you in with his muscular arms on either side.

“Alright then Y/N Y/L/N. I’m about to make you the best goddamn lunch of your life.” Before he could move, you wrapped your legs tight around his waist, keeping him so, so close. Russell’s gaze turned heated, eyes darkening. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you breathed out, Russell leaning in close.

“Don’t take me unless you plan on keeping me. Based on our previous conversation, we are not there.” Slowly, you unhooked your legs, Russell straightening, looking you up and down, eyes no less dark.

“Russ?” He stared at you, licking his lips.

“Fuck it.”

And then he slammed his lips to yours, stealing your breath away in the goddamn best kiss of your life.

_________

A/N: Read Part 4 here!

[sashi-ya]

東京 NIGHTS mini event

𝑰'𝑳𝑳 𝑩𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝑰𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𓂃 ࣪˖ okkotsu yuuta x fem! reader

⤹˚ synopsis. some years have passed since the incident; he moved overseas, you stayed... however, you never forgot, and you always waited

requested by: Anon ➡ hi sash, I saw you love Yuta so can I ask for our sweet boy with a fem! reader and the prompt "meet me at Hachiko statue in 3 yeas"? thank you! tw: sfw. sweet, romantic. fluffy. based on Hachiko's and his story. there might be a second part of this story, with 18+ cont. You can tell me if you want me to post it ~ wc: 1.4k masterlist

“Meet me three years from now at the Hachiko Statue” “Shibuya? Again?”

Three years have passed, the incident left your hearts barely hanging from the tiny strings of an undeveloped love.

Waiting, day after day. Night after night.

A light rain plays a soft melody against the transparent surface of your umbrella. Your lips tremble, even if you fight for your façade to look as serious as possible. The doors of the subway station feel like the holy tori of a sanctuary; after all that happened some years ago, looking at the “to Shibuya” signs still makes you dizzy.

You watch youngsters coming back from school, other enjoying themselves as they probably get ready to visit karaoke bars tonight. And you remember that you used to be exactly the same as them… even if from the corner of your eye, creatures of many different types appeared to make you late.

This time, however, there was no creature. No curse. No ghost. But only the feeling of what once happened there. How many of you have lost much more than what you could remember…

You check your phone; no message from Okkotsu still. Will he be there? At least, is he in Tokyo at all?

You swallow and swipe the card on the ticket gate; the “beep” allows you to keep walking, but the sound of your heart beating fast covers it all. Soon enough, the subway train arrives perfectly in time, and letting other people go in first, you find a seat waiting just for you.

Once again, you check your phone. Nothing.

“He is not coming, why am I doing this? he probably forgot about me and this, and I can’t blame him…”

Sweaty palms make your phone get steam marks on its screen, but you don’t mind. Your leg bounces softly, the music in your earphones have absolutely no importance to you right now.

You close your eyes, wondering how he looks like now. Does he still have those dark beautiful circles under his eyes? The little reddish hint that always made him look as he had just stopped crying? The blackest messy hair, or maybe his narrow frame… “I just hope you haven’t forget about me, even if you don’t come”  

It takes very little for the subway to finally reach Shibuya station. Or maybe it was just you lost in time, that you didn’t notice.

As you walk up the stairs of infinite steps, you begin to feel the soft breeze of the busiest crosswalk in the world. It cools off your cheeks, already burning because Yuuta has always been your secret crush.

The rain has stopped, and there are just some pools on the ground reflecting the neon lights of the newly reconstructed Shibuya… this place used to look a lot different a few years ago.

The beat of the traffic lights sounds synchronize with your heart beating; the laughter of young people, the imagery of couples joining after work, the memories of painful and bloody happenings… everything surrounds you, turning your quivering legs a lot more weak than before.

You check your phone one last time before crossing; you need to get to the statue of Hachiko. That was your meeting point. Such a curious choice you had; Hachiko waited for his owner at the station until he died, because he knew one day he would come back…

As you cross, your eyes scan for the place. Looking at the faces of every man you could find, your disappointment grows bigger and bigger. None of them are him; none of them will be either.

You decide to wait for 10 minutes. Nothing more. Nothing less.

A few tourists stop you once you get to the statue, distracting you. They need to know their way to a certain restaurant, so you take your time to help them. But when they are finally gone, you are back to your loneliness.

“I’m going to check my phone one last time…” you think; unblocking your device. Nothing; again. “Yes, you are not coming… I hope you are fine, Yuuta” you whisper, low enough just for you to hear it.

With your head lowered, defeated, you begin to walk away. The rain has started to fall again, but you don’t even care to open your umbrella. It’s ok if your hair gets wet. It’s ok if your make up fades.

You wait at the traffic light to turn to green, you only want to hop on the station of your nightmares to go back home. Once and for all.

As the mass begins to move, and you put a foot on the street, something catches your attention.

A big bouquet of purple flowers covers the face of a tall man asking to forgive him while he opens his way through the crowd.

“Ah… lucky girl. Late but at least with such a big bouquet…” you smile, with your eyes turning a little shiny from incipient tears.

“(Name)!!” he screams, the moment that flower man reaches you. He bumps into you with the flowers, and he has yelled your name. You blink repeatedly, only looking at the hand holding the bouquet. A silver ring shines on his hand, and it makes you shiver…

There, right in the middle of Shibuya cross, under now a pouring rain, the shy face of a man sprouts from in between beautiful purple flowers.

“(Name)! My flight was delayed, but I wanted to buy you this before I came. I’m sorry, I am so happy you didn’t leave” he chimes, with a soft smile that hasn’t changed. He is a man now, stronger, taller, mature… but Yuuta is still the softest little boy you once met at the academy.

Your lower lip shakes like a leaf, and the tears start going down your cheeks. Maybe the rest won’t notice because of the rain, but Yuuta does. You can’t speak, no words come out of your mouth.

Violently crying now, you let yourself fall into his arms. The bouquet hangs from his hand to the side, while you nuzzle on the crook of his neck.

“(Name), don’t cry! I am here! are you ok?!!” he desperately asks, hugging you hard against his chest.

You sniffle and nod, inhaling his sweet perfume. Another thing that hasn’t changed a bit; his skin scent has always been the same. Even if the times you were able to enjoy it were barely twice, you can’t forget it.

“I… I thought you had forgotten” you murmur, as both walk hugging back to the sidewalk.

“Wh-what? I’ve been counting the days to see you again” he whispers, with his lips resting on the crown of your head. “How could I forget? I missed you so much”

You look up searching for his eyes, a sweet beam garnishes your face. He still has those dark circles; he still has that enchanting pouty lips. “You haven’t changed a bit, Yuta…” you whisper, allowing the warmth of his embrace to protect you from anything around.

He giggles, that pure laughter that makes you melt. “And here I thought I was getting older… you did, however, change (Name)…” he says, kissing your forehead after.

You gasp, the old Yuuta would have had a stroke before even kissing you. Or at least his cheeks would have become as red as tomatoes – to say the least.

“You look even more beautiful than before” he finishes, leaving you absolutely breathless.

You swiftly look around him; you don’t want to get killed by Rika. Once you positively check you are safe, you stretch your neck to reach for his lips.

Your mouth lingers closer to his, so close they can even touch but not quite yet. The warmth of his breath caressing your lips, yours doing the same thing to his. Maybe you just wait for him to kiss you, or maybe both want to enjoy the little previous moments of something that you’ve been waiting even before than you two met for the very first time.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, taking his hand to your cheek. The soft caress, the cold touch of the ring grazing your skin… please do…

You nod, pouting just enough to meet his crashing lips. Both closed your eyes just when your eyes could see into each other’s, just when it was time to feel rather than see…

Your first kiss, and then another, and another. And the tourists taking pictures, because what’s more beautiful than a couple joining after years right by the statue of Hachiko who waited only moved by pure love?  💖

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 3

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

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: and so it continues.

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

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

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

When you find Kara, she’s at the front of the line. You wait impatiently on the other side of the rope as she gabs up a storm with the D-lister on the other side of the table. Restless, throat sour with bile, you pace in a small line, flicking your thumb as you resist the urge to tell her to hurry up. 

You need to get out of there. You can barely think. You can’t even stay still as heat scalds and speckles over your scalp and down your body. 

You turn on your heel and your feet tangle as you stop short. Andy stands just on the other side of the line, staring at you. Oh shit. 

You rush over to Kara and snap her tank top strap, “hey, there’s other people waiting.” 

“One second!” She squeals carelessly over her shoulder, quickly returning to fawning over the washed-up sci-fi actor. 

You sigh and cross your arms, rocking back and forth, “Kara, I really don’t feel good.” 

She huffs and chirps crisply, excusing herself from the table. Several others send her a dirty look for spending so much time chattering as they wait eagerly in the wings. She steps around the post to the other side of the rope. 

“Let me guess, too much sugar?” She scoffs. 

“Something like that,” you grumble. “Look, it’s like five. We’ve been here for a couple hours. I’m chill getting out of here.” 

“Already?” She lifts a brow, “we haven’t even got you a plushie.” 

“I should save my money,” you keep your arms folded around you. 

She eyes you up and down, “are you okay?” 

“Y-yeah, it’s like you said, too much sugar. I should’ve eaten breakfast. Or lunch.” 

She gives you a skeptical squint and shrugs, “alright, whatever. We can go hang at mine.” 

“Great, sorry,” you mope, “I just... I’m tired.” 

“It’s fine,” she assures you, “I get it. This place can be a bit much and the BO is starting to get to me.” She struts ahead of you and you catch up to her. She marvels at the signed photo in her hand, “at least I got something cool.” 

“Yeah, that’s awesome. You gonna hang it up?” You ask, trying to distract yourself. 

“Mm, maybe.” 

You glance over your shoulder. Andy’s closer, looming, hands in his pocket, eyes set on you. What is he doing? You grab her arm and hurry her towards the exit. 

“Woah, what’s up?” She trips in her wedged sandals. 

“I just need some fresh air. Like you said, it stinks in here.” 

As you finally get through the front doors, your phone is shaking incessantly. The buzz can be heard through the denim. You ignore it as you cross the lot. 

“Is that him calling?” She asks, “is that what this is about? I mean, I’d be pissed too but he shouldn’t get to ruin your day.” 

“No, it’s not,” you lie, “I just... crowds get to me after a while. It’s been a long day, traveling and all that... I’m tired.” 

“Mm, sure, well, let’s not let that coward shit on it all,” she snips. “It’ll be like high school. Girls’ night! Popcorn and nail painting and your favourite hollywood hunk.” 

“You mean your favourite,” you toss back. 

She giggles, “come on, you know you think he’s cute too.” 

You roll your eyes and stick close to her. You follow her out to the street and quickly turn away. You send one last look over your shoulder. You don’t think he’d follow you this far. You grab onto Kara’s arm and set your sights ahead of you. 

“Sleepover!” You chime, doing your best to hide your anxiety. 

🎮

You’re sad to leave Kara. She made a crummy day brighter with a fun night. Still, you’re relieved to go back home. Where you can be alone, where you can forget. 

You catch an early Greyhound and hug your bag to you as you doze, waking with each lurch of the axle. Back in town, you disembark and sigh. You still have a shift tonight. It’s a good excuse to avoid that little needling at the back of your mind. 

You still can’t believe it. How many years had you been warned against meeting people on the internet? For how much of your life has that faceless avatar online been the boogeyman to fear? And yet, he sent you pictures, you spent hours gaming together, and you trusted him. Yes, you’re that stupid. You really trusted Jacob—Andy. 

You drop your stuff at home and shower as your grandmother grumbles into a cup of tea. As you emerge, her eternal scowl curls her lips. You go to the kitchen to wash her used dishes and come back out, hoping the chore appeases her. She doesn’t say a word as she sorts through her knitting needles. 

Right. As grim as the house can be, you find comfort in that nothing has changed, even if you feel like your world has. You don’t even want to look at your Switch. That one possession you treasured above all. It’s the most expensive thing you own. You saved for months to get one, it connected you to outside, it helped you escape, and now it’s just another reminder. 

You grab your purse and head off for work. You message Kara to check in. Uh oh, she says Calvin is in town. Not this again. 

You go to hit reply on her message and another notification pops up. You tap it before you can stop yourself. It’s him. Andy. He’s been texting but you haven’t answered, you haven’t even looked to block him. You don’t know why you haven’t just hit that magic button but you just avoided everything about him. 

‘Please. I’m sorry. Can we please talk?’ 

It’s no different than the litany of texts before hand; ‘we can mine and talk this out’; ‘I wanted to tell you the truth for so long, I just thought you had the right to hear it face-to-face'; ‘hope you got home safe. Please text when you have a moment’; one after another, changing from one tone to the others; desperate, apologetic, concerned... 

Before you can dismiss the conversation, he messages again. 

‘You’re reading my messages. I see the checkmark. Please, just give me a chance to explain.’ 

You sniff and shake your head. You mute your phone and bury it at the bottom of your purse. You don’t want to talk to him but you just can’t bring yourself to get rid of him entirely. For a year he was your friend. Maybe just a gaming buddy but a constant that you came to count on.  

You would login and just shoot the shit; chat about your day; just let it all out and not think as you dug up diamonds or raced around Moo Moo Meadows. That’s all gone now and it hurts just as much as the rest of his lies. It isn’t just that he isn’t Jacob, it’s that you told him things you didn’t even tell Kara. He had been your safe harbour because he was far away, because anything you said could never come back to you. 

Your eyes sting and your cheeks pinch. Stupid, again. You shouldn’t be this emotional about this. Forget about it. You got work.  

Work? Scooping ice cream? God, how pathetic you must have sounded to him. He’s a lawyer or something? At least that what he claimed when he’d still been Jacob. You knew at first glance the type of man he is; established, professional, and older. So much older. 

Yeah, your problems must have seemed so minuscule and immature. Oh, you flunked a pop quiz? Not like you have to pay a mortgage.  

Urgh. You shake off the nipping embarrassment as you enter the booth and pull on your apron. Maybe you don’t have that much going on, but you’re trying. You’re young. You’re learning. What’s his excuse? 

🎮

You should have done this a lot sooner. You don’t know why you didn’t. Maybe because it didn’t matter before. Before, Jacob was just a boy you played Minecraft with. He was just a voice in a headset. But now, he’s... not. He’s Andy. No. 

He’s dead. 

You stare at the search result and your heart sinks. That, at least, is true. Jacob Barber; death date, last year. The pictures even match. Just a skinny kid, smiling beside his dad and mom. She’s gone too. Lost in the same accident. 

You kick yourself for being so careless. If you’d just searched him up a year ago. Even just reverse searched those pictures, you would’ve pieced it together. The only thing you can be thankful for is that it wasn’t worse. That you’re safe and you can just leave it behind. 

Well, that’s what you want to do. 

You scroll through the rest of the results. There's more, before the death. Articles about a murder and suspects. Jacob was one. What? 

It’s all so messy you can hardly make sense of any of it. You stop and sit back. You think of the man who sat across from you, you remember the look in his eyes, the flicker in his voice. He did sound sorry. 

And after everything? A police investigation then to just lose your son like that? Your only child. 

You know you don’t owe him anything. He lied to you. He had every chance to be honest, from the very beginning. Maybe you wouldn’t have wanted to play with a middle-aged man but maybe you could’ve helped him find somebody. You could’ve at least shared gaming tips.  

It isn’t about him. It’s about closure. This is just a blip on the radar. You have bigger things to worry about. Your grandmother, work, school. The summer’s flying by and tuition fees are higher than last year. Your interest payments are going to spike and you foresee a second job on the horizon. 

You look at your phone, entranced by it. You stand and walk in circles. You come back to your small desk and pick up the cell. The little chat bubble at the bottom has that red dot in the corner; unread messages. You tap it and the dot disappears. 

Jacob-- 

Andy’s chat opens and you slowly key in your message, several times over before you get it right. 

‘I’m signing into the server. I’ll be on until nine. No mining, talking.’ 

That’s it. That’s all. You can’t go back to what it was. You want this to be over. You’re closing the book, cutting the strings. He needs to know what he did was wrong and you need to move on. 

You take a breath and try to calm your nerves. Now that you’ve sent the message, you don’t know if you can do it. It’s too late, he saw it. 

You move slowly as you boot up your switch and plug in your headset. Your heart is racing like crazy. You’re going to have a panic attack. You feel the same wave of nausea you felt back at the con. Ugh. 

You load the server and almost as soon as the textures appear, he joins. Your lip trembles. You hear his mic scuff but he says nothing. No, you’re not here to listen to him. He has to hear you and then you’re done. 

“I’m sorry about your son,” you begin. 

“I... thanks.” 

“But it’s not an excuse,” you interrupt him, “what you did was so wrong.” 

“I know.” 

“Please, let me get this out,” you insist, your voice shaking. “I can’t understand what you’ve been through. I looked it all up and I know that it’s a lot. I, obviously, have never dealt with any of that. You know that, because I told you. Because I trusted you,” you frown as you inhale sharply, tears pricking in your eyes, “because I thought you were my age, that you were him, your son. Your dead son.” 

You shudder and shake your head, gulping thickly. 

“Do you not see how fucked up that is?” 

He sighs, “I know. I promise you, I wanted to tell you. That’s why... that’s why I wanted to meet. Because you deserved to know and I had to tell it to your face. You deserved that--” 

“Did I deserve to be lied to? Huh? Why—Why did you need to do all that? Why couldn’t you just tell the truth?” 

He sniffles. You’re silent, choked by the sob trapped in your throat. 

“I... He’s gone. I missed him so bad and I wasn’t thinking straight. It’s not an excuse, you’re right,” his voice is raspy, “I... you reminded me of him. Playing his favourite game helped me get through. It was wrong. All of it. I’m not saying you should forgive me, but I’m trying to explain as best as I can. I still don’t really understand why I did it.” 

You swallow and wipe your wet eyes, “you’re right. I don’t need to forgive you. I don’t. I only came on here to say what I needed to before I delete this world. I might be young and stupid but I think you need help. Real help, not some girl on a headset.” 

“Please--” 

His voice cuts off as you hit quit. You feel a pang of guilt. You do feel bad for him but you hope he heard you. You can’t forgive what he did to you, but you can wish the best for him. You hope what you said can make him get the proper help.

[wilwheaton]

Elon's new blue-check subscription service was a massive flop, and the sudden removal of nearly half a million blue-checks suddenly made it crystal clear to Twitter's user base that the blue-check club going forward was going to be populated almost entirely by right-wing weirdos. There would be no hanging out with Stephen King or LeBron James; your fellow blue-checks would instead be a few notorious racists and jokes from (checks notes) influential wag "catturd." In fact, by so clearly labeling the worst of Twitter’s worst people, it spurred a genius #BlockTheBlue backlash, in which people gleefully banned the blue-check trolls that now populated the top of every single prominent Twitter thread (like those of actual celebrities announcing their refusal to pay for what was now a worthless mark). The visible unpopularity of the program wasn't just embarrassing for Musk. It's an existential threat to the program’s viability. Musk sold the subscription service as a way to become one of the site's Important People without merit; if all the Important People didn’t just stay off the program, but mocked it, only the most diehard of Musk loyalists would be eager to sign up for that. As the collapse of the program became self-evident, third parties had already begun working on automated #BlockTheBlue plugins that would systematically block all checkmarks. So Musk immediately set out to salvage the reputation and very existence of the $8 club—by forcing Important People to be in it whether they liked it or not. And by "immediately," we mean "by afternoon."

Elon Musk's Twitter Blue is a verified disaster

I was one of Twitter’s early adopters. I was one of those accounts they suggested you follow when it started to get big. I went from a few thousand followers to a hundred thousand in a matter of days, and was at 3 million when I closed my account.

I left Twitter long before Musk took over, but I kept the account to protect it and the branding it comes with from bad people.

Last year, before Musk bought it, I posted a couple of tweets to let those three million accounts know that my memoir had been published. It seemed silly not to. I turned replies off, and just let it be an announcement.

Then Musk took over, and I watched Twitter turn into 4Chan. When it started to become 8Chan, I deleted my entire archive, unfollowed everyone except family, and then made my account private. I figure I still need to protect the username.

I don’t look at my account, but someone told me the check was gone. (Oh, I was one of the earliest verified users, too). I was thrilled. I didn’t want anyone to think I gave that bozo my money.

Then the same person told me the check was back, shortly after I think all decent people had concluded that blue check = red flag (or red hat). So I signed back into my account and updated my bio to make sure nobody ever thinks I gave that dumbass any of my money.

I know I’m not alone. That check mark is now toxic, and I’m not the only longtime verified user who doesn’t want anything to do with it. I wonder if someone more famous than me, with more at stake, makes noise about the implied endorsement  / affiliation the blue check now carries with it, and the brand damage that comes with it?

[acciocriativity]

-> When they reject you…

… but it wasn't a confession (MATZ Version)

Genre: angst (I'm sorry)

Warnings/tags: angst; unrequited love (?); Seonghwa being a little asshole; heartbreak; just betrayal guys

WC: 1,4 k

N/A: Yes, this is inspired by that Colin scene in Bridgerton, to be honest I still not forgave him for that.

Please reblog my work if you enjoyed it, it helps to reach other people <3

Ateez Masterlist

Park Seonghwa (박성화)

You had no reason to be up right now. Actually if anything, you should’ve been sleeping for hours now to rest for the early morning ahead of you, yet somehow you were still waiting to make sure he was safe and sound.

You heard them from the hallway, a combination of the dead silence in the building and their loud voices. You heard only sounds that didn’t make any sense to you, but it made you get up in hurry.

This isn’t good, there was something wrong with Seonghwa, you knew it.

The apartment was small, there wasn’t stairs to go down or a long way to cross to reach the door. In a few steps after you left your room, Seonghwa’s and Yunho’s voices became clear to you.

“Shh, keep your voice down, are you trying to wake everyone up?”, Yunho whisper-screamed, but his tone was far from angry, there was a residue of laughter on his voice.

“No”, he almost whined as you heard the constant jiggles from Seonghwa’s chains bag, like he was struggling against Yunho. “I told you I don’t want to live with her anymore, take me to the dorms for the night”.

That took you by surprise, you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

Ever since you two became roommates two years ago, he never gave you any signs that he needs some time away from your company, which would be completely okay, but to hear him say that to his friend made you feel so humiliated. You tried so hard to be friendly, to make him and all of his friends at home and all he did was pretend to do the same, welcoming you into his life.

Was this how he talked about you behind your back? Did they all know he hated living with you?

You feel something burning, maybe it was the bit of love for him, you had or the tears you refused to cry over this.

“Hyung, com’on, it's not that bad, you need to sleep and think clearly about this”, Yunho tried his best for a while, you could tell this wasn’t the first or second time he said those words.

They got closer to the door, only then you realized you were spying on them. If you were embarrassed before, now you felt mortified, but somehow you couldn’t move an inch.

What exactly made him feel uncomfy at home, because you were completely in the dark about those feelings, whatever they were. Did he seem off those days? You can’t remember, he was as sweet to you as he’s always been. But the man on the other side of the door was done, he was huffing and puffing like an immature child because he didn’t want to be at your home. The Seonghwa you thought was a friend couldn’t be more different than the man you are listening to right now.

“She is that bad”.

You breathe in.

There’s no way, absolutely no way.

“You should just tell her, y’ know”, Yunho said in that soft tone you hear more than once directed at you.

“I did”, Seonghwa raised his voice and that startles you. “She just doesn’t get the hint, I gave her too many signs to move on already”.

You don’t hear whatever answer Yunho gave him nor the sequential sounds of each number of the door code. You could only hear all the deep conversations you had together, where he told you he would be there for you anytime you needed, that he’d give a shoulder when you needed one. He was the one that made you open up to him and for what?

The door opened wide

They stood there like two idiots caught dirty-handed. Seonghwa couldn’t look at you in the eyes, a fucking coward he truly was. He was just like the others in your life, your worst nightmare became true.

There were tears pooling in your eyes as you closed more and more in your own head again, all of those months worth of improvement wasted.

Your mind screamed for you to move, to run out of there as fast as you could to as far as possible. But why should you? The voice in your head was bitter and angry. This was your apartment at first, even though you didn’t hesitate to call it ‘our’.

“Leave then, am I forcing you to live here with me? Did I even say I was interested in you? Get your shit by tomorrow night and get off my face.

You shut the door close on their faces.

Kim Hongjoong (김홍중)

The library wasn’t as empty as you wished it would be at 21:39, to study or do something near closing hours would be pointless for most, but you needed only more 79 words to finish your essay and your mama raised no bitch.

You watch the numbers change on your phone, exactly 20 minute from now you have to finish this. You’ve been here all evening, you can’t bring yourself to do it at home. No, you are going to finish this, get home, get a nice shower and re—

“I think you’re actually going insane, no offense though”.

You could recognize that voice anywhere. That fucker said he didn’t have time to study with you, again. Did he come to check on me? The thought crossed your head, but you shut it down just as fast, that wouldn’t make any sense, would it? He was ignoring you for a week now, no calls, no texts, nothing. Did he even know you were here? He would, if he saw the text you sent at noon.

You stared at your screen, the white was blurring your vision after so long. You took that as a sign to take a little 5-minute break.

Alright Hongjoong, this is your last chance to redeem yourself, this is the last time I’d bother to try.

You couldn’t see where he was from your seat, but his voice seemed to be coming from the sets of tables on the other side of the bookshelves. At the very least he deserved a little jump scare, he should have it coming as payback, so you don’t feel bad as you tiptoed to spy on where he was.

You moved a couple books to the side to see it better. He had his phone glued to his ear as he paced around. Distracted, as you needed, but the little mischievous demon on your shoulder disappeared as you paid close attention to his distressed disposition. There were few moments where you saw him so tense and stressed. Whatever the other person was saying, wasn’t good news.

“No, that’s… I see, but that makes it worse, no? I can’t tell her like this, hm…”

The lilac pencil case on top of the table distracted you from the big picture. The table was a mess from two people, the distinction was clear as day. Hongjoong wouldn’t be caught dead with anything other than black or red on his bag. It was clear it wasn’t his, so whose was?

The answer walked in with a concerned look on her face. Was that the ‘her’ in the conversation? He ended the call as soon as she got close. They stood near each other, too near for two people who just met.

“Are you sure she’s going to be okay?”, she leaned into him as if on instinct, a feeling you could relate to, he had something in him that attract people to him.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t know, I wish to keep a normal friendship with her someday”.

“It’s better to just call her, it’s been long enough for her to get over you”.

Is this ‘her’ me? You hoped not, whatever this was, you hated.

You felt sick to your stomach as they held hands, so you left Hongjoong alone, like he clearly wanted to. He wasn’t the type to open up to new people, she wasn’t new, and he never told you about it. There wasn’t secrets in your friendship, at least he said so, but there was a lot you don’t know, apparently.

If that’s you… if he was talking about you, did he just ignore you for almost two weeks because he thought you would get in the middle of his relationship?

You phone rang.

It was him, but you didn’t bother to answer, and he didn’t bother to try again. There’s nothing to salvage anymore.

Tag list: @h3arteyes4mingi

[urfavlarry]

Your Overlord! Husk is just so 🫠 So I HAD to request something for him!

Reader works at the Casino. She is Husk's favorite waitress (maybe because she is his gf idk 👀) and deals with rude costumers more often than she'd like. During one of those situations, they corner her for trying to "stick her nose in somebody else's business". Overlord! Husk deals with them before they have the chance to do anything. After the situation is taken care of, he steals her away to dote on her <3

This is the (slightly modified) piece of dialogue that inspired my request. Feel free to use it, if you want!

Reader, backing up: "Gentlemen, gentlemen. Let's be civil about this. Let's make a deal; you leave, and you don't die a second time. How does that sound?"

Sinner: "And how do you intend to kill us, dollface?"

Reader: "Oh, no, I can't kill you. But my boss can. Say hi, boss."

Overlord! Husk, appearing behind reader: "Hi."

I'm aware of how cringe this is, but I couldn't help myself ;;

oh my god this isn’t cringe at all!! i love this sm !! hope ive managed to write this how you wanted and that you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this<33

warnings: bad grammar, swearing, alcohol, mention of harassment, the sinners might be sexist? (if i forgot anything tell me in the comments)

•

•

Overlord!Husk x waitress reader

You’ve met Husk a few years ago after you have just fallen into the dark place called Hell. You stumbled upon the casino after you accepted that this was your life— well afterlife for the rest of eternity, and damn, eternity is a long time! So you decided to look for a job, a job you had when you were alive; a waitress.

Husk hired you after a week of you being “on trial” as he likes to call it and you were just fit for the job! You had the nerves of a saint since you used to deal with drunk people that drowned themselves in alcohol and decided to throw the tiny bit of dignity away and harass the workers who didn’t really sign up for being harassed. At your old job you were usually the one that calmed fights and disagreements down and people were really grateful for that. You could say you were like the mom of that last bar you worked at!

Today the casino was calmer the usual, just sinners chatting away and dancing on the dance floor or just having a drink after a long day of work. The day was slow yes, but at least you didn’t have shitty customers to worry about; you thought to yourself but then suddenly the bars doors slam open and in come 4 not so friendly looking fox demons. You hated those kinds of demons, they usually tried to steal and just make your afterlife a living hell— well if that’s even possible since you already are in hell.

You shoot your fellow employees a uncertain glance and walk over to the demons to ask if they decided on their drinks. They snickered as they ordered their drinks and whispered to themselves as you went to get the drinks they wanted. The bartender, Chris, was a fellow friend of yours and as he makes the drinks he says with a worried tone; “Hey Y/N I know you’re experienced and shit but please be careful, those guys used to come here often and they like to start fights and they really are not fun to deal with so just, keep your guard up, okay?” He looks at you with genuine worry as he hands the drinks to you and you pick them up with ease; “Don’t worry Chrissy i’ll be extra careful okay? I’ve dealt with assholes when I was alive you really don’t need to worry about me.” You say with a smile and shoot him a wink and walk over to the men that are now playing poker and are betting for a huge amount of money. You place the drinks down and go back to talk with Chris to pass the time.

Husk was in his usual spot in the VIP room of the casino, gambling with some sinners, having a bored look on his face as it was clear the sinner really had no experience. He looks away for a moment to glance to the other side of the casino to see you chatting with the bartender. He smiles for just a bit and looks back at the game. You were quite close since you had both a lot in common and were quite fond of each other. After about a year and a half of you working at the casino, Husk asked you out and you, of course accepted! You got together after that and you couldn’t have been happier. But the only one that knew about your secret relationship was Chris, since you trusted him with that kind of information. You and Husk got married after 2 years of being together and Chris could just tell you two loved each other, you were practically love sick idiots!

“And you know that bitch that took your place while you were sick? She was a total—” You get cut off by the sound of yelling and you turn your head to see what was happening. The fox demons were now yelling and fighting, screaming foul things at each other because the game was apparently “not fair”. You exchange looks with Chris and sigh, walking over to the angered men with a calm look on your face, straightening your uniform.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen! May I ask what is the cause of all of this commotion? You’re disturbing the others that are trying to have a good time.” You say with a calm tone trying to calm the situation and to not raise attention. “Go mind your fucking business bitch you probably put something in our drinks to make us focus less so that asshole can win!” One of them yells and the others nod along with angered looks on their faces. “Im sorry wh—” You get cut off yet again by the one of the angry men; “Just shut the fuck up your so clueless it’s embarrassing you probably don’t even know how to do your job properly” Another one of them says grabbing your wrist to pull you down to his height. Your nose scrunches in disgust since you can smell the alcohol from his mouth and you just pray you don’t throw up in his face. He starts to speak again, clearly still annoyed; “How about you fucking go do your job like a good little lady and bring us another drink.” The demon says with a smirk on his face and lets you go and whistles at you as you go to leave. You turn around and glare slightly at the man but take a deep breath and say; “Gentlemen calm yourselves please, let’s be civil about this, yes? How about you either leave this casino and never come back, or you can treat the employees with respect.” You say brushing off your uniform and look at them with a smile fake like the money they were betting on.

“Yea? Or else what?” One of them asks gaining some new found confidence and smirks at you looking you up and down, licking his lips as if you were some kind of prey. “You get to keep your little afterlife and don’t die a second time!” You say with a sarcastic tone and smile. They start to laugh as if you just said the most hilarious thing in the entire world and look at you like a little child who was born yesterday; “Aww and how does a little demon like you intend to do that?” They all snicker awaiting your answer that they were sure it was gonna be even more hilarious then the previous statement you made.

Husk who heard the commotion and has been watching the interaction from afar for almost 10 minutes was growing more and more annoyed by the second. How dare they speak to his wife like that? They think they can just waltz in here and fuck with his wife? Yeah no. He slowly starts to walk towards you and the men and you notice him out from the corner of your eye and smirk, knowing from the look on his face that he was pissed. Maybe even that was not that much of a strong word to describe the anger bubbling up in his body. You look at the demons in front of you and say; “Perhaps you would like to discuss that with my boss?” You say and step back from the demons who replace their smug expressions with confused glances.

“Is there a problem here gentlemen?” Husk asks raising a brow with a annoyed look on his face as the fox demons now look like they’ve pissed themselves. You smirk at the men flipping them off from behind, sticking your tongue out. Your boss from your old job never really bothered to stand up for his employees so it felt good to finally have assholes like them eat their own shit.

The demons scatter and leave money at the table at mumble apologies towards you and Husk and leave the casino without another word. The employees and some of the customers cheer and whistle and scream at the demons to never come back and you cheer a bit yourself, happy that someone finally stood up for you.

The atmosphere was finally back to its normal calm self and Husk looks at you with a bit of a angered look, not because of you, but because he was still pissed someone would just treat his wife like shit, but of course he looks at you with a hint of worry but he’s careful to not show it since he has a reputation to uphold. “Y/N, my office. Now.” He says as he slowly walks over to the back door for employees and you share a worried look with Chris, he looks at you confused and raises a brow at you. You just shrug your shoulders since you’re just as confused as him but you follow closely behind Husk as he wait for you at the employee door. You both walk to his office not far down the hall and he opens the door and lets you enter first. He enters right after you, closing the door behind him. He stays quiet for a bit ask he smokes his cigarette, looking out from the huge window he had in his office.

You stand there nervously and fiddle with your sleeves, hoping you weren’t in trouble, because you really don’t wanna deal with an angry Husk. He throws the cigarette butt out of the window and turns to look at you. He walks up to you cups your cheek in his hand and asks; “Are you okay my love? Did those fuckers hurt you?” He says with worry evident in his voice and you sigh; “No, no they didn’t do anything i’m fine Husker i’ve dealt with shit like this before..” You say looking away from him frowning slightly grabbing your slightly bruised wrist. “I don’t take shit like that to heart.” You say with a smirk.

He smiles softly at you and pulls you closer grabbing you by the waist; “I know Doll I just wanted to check on you, you know? Those guys really are pieces of shit and i’ve wanted to shut them up for a while now, but you did that pretty well yourself~” He says with a smirk and a teasing tone.

“Yeah, yeah I know i’m just the best.” You say with a playful tone and chuckle. “I’m glad you were worried about me tho. I guess the “heartless Overlord” really does have a soft spot for me~” You giggle teasing the cat demon, you knew very well he cared about you, and you were very grateful for that. Husk wraps his tail around your leg and look you up at Husk, shivering slightly from his touch, but you can’t help but admire his features up close. He smirks at the remark and pulls you closer so your bodies are practically touching and your faces are inches apart. He suddenly dips you, your lips barely apart as he grabs you firmly, careful so you don’t fall and and smiles, a genuine smile you have never seen before, a smile that Husk himself couldn’t believe he had used and says;

“Hm, well love, you might just happen to have a special spot in this dead heart of mine~”

He says and leans in closing the small gap between you two. Your breath hitches at the contact but you don’t hesitate to kiss back, a simple act that made your heart flutter even though you’ve done this a million times before. You smiled into the kiss and you started to wonder how you could have found such a great partner.

It was kind of funny, you really were a match made in hell.

[lucrativesoul]

even this big, tough man can still get jealous sometimes when he looks at you. how could he not?

Leon and jealousy is an interesting mix. As his partner, nothing had ever been done on your part to make him jealous, but that’s the type of lover he is. He’s always worrying that any interaction you have with someone else could be you finally (in his mind) changing your mind on who an ideal partner would be.

It could happen over him thinking about you at work, thinking about you running errands on your own, and even when you both are out together and he catches stares from other people. He knows you never look, but his chest still gets that weird little tight sensation.

He seems like the type to become jealous over tiny things, especially things happening in his own mind. He wouldn’t make it your problem, but it unfortunately affected the way he acted.

Leon wouldn’t tell you straight up, as he probably sees his jealousy as a little embarrassing for him. He logically knows there's no reason for it, yet, why is he feeling like this?

At night, if something had happened while you were both out, he would definitely become quiet, still trying to be affectionate, feeling guilty because he knows there’s nothing going on, but you notice the way he’s a lot more quiet than usual. (“Are you tired already? You’re quiet.” “Yeah, it’s been a long day.”) Vague, that’s his method.

Leaving you home while he worked and had to go away for a while would definitely have his heart racing, but nothing too serious that he would have to accuse you of anything. His jealousy is lowkey, but only over imagining fictitious scenarios of things that might be going on while he isn’t there.

Out to dinner one night, he took a little too much notice of the waiter and his lingering eyes. He powered through the meal for your sake, and it seemed it worked as your mood was consistent through the night. The ride home, though, he was quiet again, and you picked up and forced him to come clean. (“Leon, what’s going on? Are you alright? Just tell me.” “I didn’t like the way the waiter was looking at you. I was right there.”) A tightly-knit cuddle session was in order after his confession and your words of reassurance, and you had to hide your smile at the blush that was starting to form on his cheeks.

The older you two got, he grew out of becoming jealous over his overthinking, but real life scenarios still presented themselves to him, and by now, you always knew his signs. He loved showing you off at work events, even though there were a few occasions that had him stiffening up. (“No, Leon, I don’t think your new younger coworker is hot. Yes, I know you didn’t say that but you didn’t have to. Why would I go for a rookie when I have my big strong agent man?”) A bear hug is all that is needed for both of you to soothe those conversations for a while.

a/n: thank you so much for 400 followers (and almost 500 now)!! here's a little jealousy blurb cause when will it be my turn to have a man love me this much *sob* working on ideas for my next fics for you all <3 my ko-fi!

[randomness-is-my-order]

from the start, i’ve mainly been praising the show and have spoken against the minor nitpicks but i think some constructive criticism won’t go amiss. i’m always going to advocate for praise + critique but since literally all my posts praise the show (character-work, writing, directing, cinematography, literally all aspects) i’ll focus on the main issues i have with it for this one.

i’m only saying this because i do think there is merit to the conversation: yes, i agree with many other people saying the show has a very real lack of tension. the stakes are established, potential horrific consequences are alluded to, but the instances in which the action needs to take place falls short. i wanted to see percy and annabeth and grover SHOWING their inexperience through stumbling on traps (which would automically raise the tension in both medusa’s lair and the lotus casino), i wanted them to make mistakes and quick-think their way out of it. sure, there’s something to be said about conveying annabeth’s intelligence but aunty em was a great way of highlighting percy & annabeth’s dyslexia by having them be unable to read the signs. the statues could have been removed from the yard–a move that would show medusa’s intelligence instead. similarly, the fun of the lotus casino was about the creepiness that slowly and steadily builds on the backdrop of this harmless kid carival like setting. percy, annabeth and grover’s intelligence and knowledge has already been built in other obstacles so seeing them actually fall for well-set traps seems to me like a much more nuanced portrayal of the kids, their capabilities but also their weaknesses. speaking of, i was waiting for one moment of annabeth making some mistake, showing some flaw. i think it would have been cool if she was the one to lose her drachma given that she was undoubtedly jostled hard while clinging to the cerberus. grover already felt like he messed up after the lotus casino and having percy reassure annabeth after her drachma screwup would really nail in that yeah she’s intelligent and wise but she is also just 12 and she can be a bit reckless too.

honestly, i’m a sucker for flaws. i love my emotional percabeth bits to death but would i have rejoiced just as much had both of them been a little more unempathetic towards each other and been at each other’s throats for a few more episodes? yes.

i love show grover and his earnestness and savagery in manipulating a god but do i love my little coward goat boy who slowly but surely proves himself to be capable and brave? who keeps asking for food at the most inopportune moments but really has percy’s back at the end of the day? who is severely unconfident but slowly learns to trust himself more? yes! i just feel like the grover we have now was my imagining of grover in book 2-3. we never got to see his major flaws so i’m just wondering what kind of upward arc will he have and will it be as impressive as the books.

i really really appreciated that percy’s impertinence was actually something he paid a price for. it will make his continued rebellion against the gods that much more intentional. that said, i would have liked percy’s relative ignorance of the mythic world to still remain. having sally make him so prepared that he sometimes manages to know obscure greek stories sort of blends their roles in the trio. yes, each one of them is layered and there is no one super rigid position they must adhere to but this is storytelling on television at the end of the day, the characters should have unique traits to distinguish themselves. for me, percy’s intelligence was about his presence of mind and deductive reasoning which the lotus casino scene in the book beautifully portrays. similarly, his knowledge was less about facts he knew and more about the street smarts he had acquired. in some way, annabeth and percy have a weird overlap in characteristics (show annabeth feels as sassy as show percy which is not the book dynamic imo).

i don’t see these as minor nitpicks btw – i think show portrayals have changed these characters through small changes and while that is okay, it also leaves room for improvement before it is too late. there are many considerations to be made–percy’s grief, annabeth’s tackling of complex feelings about the gods, grover’s guilt, ofc. but it’s, i think, a valid critique of the show that the main trio’s dialogue and actions could be made more faithful to the books.

also, i think the direction can be more dynamic, especially in exposition-heavy scenes. there are ways to make info-dumping fun and i’m sure the directors are more than capable of exploring these options moving forward.

there are many more smaller things i would point out but i don’t want to make this longer that it already is. many people handwave alot of the critique saying that the show is for children to which i say: children’s media doesn’t mean lesser quality media–the books were literally made for children yet on tv, many scenes are sanitised, very little left not on-the-nose. i have myself mentioned how certain scenes could be impossible to film with 12 yr olds (medusa beheading) without harming them mentally in some way so i appreciate the clever sanitization there. but the action sequences do need much more edge and that’s okay to acknowledge. the show we have now is great but it is absolutely not without flaws and normalising discussion about the flaws is only going to benefit the show moving forward.

and lastly, rick might be the author of the books but there is no rule that once you like an author’s work, you will have to like all of that author’s writing. just because rick made some final decisions does not take away the fandom’s rights to question those decisions and critique the screenwriting. there is seriously no use putting him on a pedestal–and i say this as someone who adores his writing in pjo.

let’s let the fandom breathe a little. let the mild, politely conveyed critique become commonplace as much as the ardent praise because i think that’s the balance we need to ensure that season two delivers on all the fronts that season one was unable to.

that’s all. thanks for reading lol. have a nice day. :))

[bucketsofmonsters]

The Witch's Apprentice - Part 3

cw: demon summoning, prolonged isolation, voyerism, masturbation, vaginal fingering, size difference, more tags will be added as the story continues

male demon x afab reader

Word count: 5k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4  Part 5 Part 6  Part 7

“It’s two days, I’ll be fine.”

It became clear after the thirtieth attempt to reassure her that your promises were doing nothing to settle her nerves but you refused to stop trying. 

She was supposed to have left an hour ago but instead she’d been wandering around, checking that everything was in place over and over again. There was only so many times someone could check their warding before it became clear they were stalling. 

She pointed accusationally in your direction as she lifted a rug to check once more that the carving underneath remained intact. “I need you to swear to me that you won’t try and pull anything. Just keep everything clean and stay out of trouble, okay?”

You nodded. “Promise.”

She left you with one final rule that you knew you’d be breaking. “Don’t be stupid.”

You stared out the window as she left, chin perched on the windowsill as you patiently waited. 

She quickly exitted your line of sight, engulfed by the woods. When she did, you started counting. 

one. two. three. 

The wind blew through the leaves outside, the trees beckoning you forwards. They’d started to turn, shifting to bright reds and oranges. It suited them, like the bright colors poisonous animals had plastered across their backs. 

one hundred. one hundred and one. one hundred and two. 

You made sure to wait a beat between each number, refusing to accidentally speed through your counting. You wouldn’t get overeager. You wouldn’t blow this chance. 

nine hundred ninety nine. one thousand.

You sprung up, your self imposed deadline complete. A thousand seconds and no sign of Eden turning back or losing faith in you. Whenever she turned back, she did it quickly, quick-witted and self assured even in her about-facing. 

You tried to calm yourself, not wanting to summon your new second-favorite conversation partner with the frantic look you knew was in your eye right now. 

Deep breaths. You’d done this before, you would be just fine. 

You spoke the words slowly, with intention. Most of the waiting had already gone by, you could wait a few minutes more to make everything went right. 

Finally, your patience paid off and Lucien appeared before you once more. 

“Why didn’t you tell my witch about me summoning you,” you asked, skipping the formalities and rushing through your question, eager to reach the conclusion of the little script you’d been working over and over in your head. 

“I thought she wasn’t your witch?”

You’d known he was going to dodge that question, you knew him well enough to figure that out by now. It was more of a primer than anything, establishing the subject of questioning. 

“Are we friends?” It sounded a bit desperate but for the life of you you couldn’t figure out another way to phrase it. 

“No.”

“Oh. Then why?”

“Friends don’t imprison each other in summoning circles.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to get your line of questioning back on track. “No, not why aren’t we friends, why didn’t you tell her? I can’t think of any other reason than you not wanting me to get in trouble and stop summoning you.”

“Then you lack imagination. Why aren’t you whispering?”

“What?”

“You always whisper, even when she’s out,” he noted. “You’re not whispering anymore.”

“I just got excited.” Your tone was too defensive to be convincing, not that it would have mattered anyways. He had a knack for figuring you out regardless of how hard you tried to hide things. 

“Maybe. Do you know what I think? I think she’s left you alone and it’s made you braver.”

“You’re good at reading people.”

“Only when they’re easy to read,” he said offhandedly and you bristled at the comment. “So that’s it, is it? The cat’s away?”

“She doesn't mind, it's just a summoning.”

He tisked at you and you knew he didn’t believe you. “Keep lying to me and maybe I won’t cover for you next time.”

Maybe that was a hint for why he hadn’t told her. “If you’re trying to threaten me it won’t work,” you informed him. “Tell her if you want, you won’t be able to make me do anything.”

He appraised you and the confidence you were doing your best to put on. “I suppose we’ll see about that. Sweet of you to keep dragging me here and letting me try.”

That mocking tone was becoming ever so familiar to you. 

“I just-” Your words were cut off by a bang coming from outside the house. 

Your head jerked towards the door, where the echoing noise sounded like it had come from, and Lucien chucked behind you.

“Maybe you aren’t as alone as you thought you were.”

The demon’s teasing was immediately forgotten in favor of desperately trying to figure out what was going on. It had sounded like it came from behind the front door but it was far louder than any knocking you could imagine. It almost sounded like someone was barrelling into it. 

The air was very still as you waited, staring the door down as if maybe if you looked hard enough you’d be able to see whatever was on the other side. 

You’d half convinced yourself you’d imagined it when it happened again, the sound of someone slamming into the door echoing throughout the room. 

Noone was supposed to be able to see this place at all, the warding kept anyone other than you and your witch from percieving it, let alone getting near enough to bang on the door. This wasn’t possible, it couldn’t be happening. 

Surely Eden had protected you against this, right? She would never have left you vulnerable, You’d watched her check every single piece of warding in the house, you were safe. 

The pounding at the door told a different story.  

You should dismiss Lucien. He was a loose canon in a dangerous situation, having him around could only be a liability. 

And yet you just stood there, frozen. 

No dismissing the demon, no moving towards the door, just standing absolutely still. 

At the sound of the next crash, you shrunk closer to the summoning circle without thinking, Lucien’s snickering getting louder as you pulled back and towards him, panic running through you. 

Lucien was doing exactly what you’d expected, he was taking advantage of the situation. 

You hadn’t even realized he’d begun talking, too focused on the pounding on the door. “I wonder who’s out there? You’re running out of options, better think fast.”

Your eyes darted around, looking as if there was anything in this room that you didn’t already know about, know exactly how it worked and where it lay. Nothing in here could help you. Maybe it could help Eden, or someone with some real power, but not you. 

He was right, you were running out of options. But that didn’t mean you didn’t have any. 

It was a stupid idea. Of course it was. But you liked your chances better with your demon than with whatever was out there. 

You dragged your foot across the floor, through the summoning circle, breaking the continuous lines Eden had so painstakingly drawn. 

For a moment he did nothing, staring down at you incredulously, completely unmoving. 

The inaction didn’t last long. His arm shot out and yanked you towards him, wrapping around you as you were pulled into his chest protectively. You couldn’t see anything, your vision shielded by his embrace. 

The banging stopped. 

The first thing you noticed when you pulled away wasn’t the sudden change in setting. 

The first thing you noticed was that you were hungry. No, not hungry, maybe you were tired? Or maybe you were lonely. You needed something, that much you were certain of. You were tired of waiting.

“How’s it hitting you?” He was looking down at you and only then did you realize you were still wrapped up in his arms. 

“What?”

“Hell. How’s it feel?”

Is that what this was? It didn’t feel like eternal torment or burning fires, it just felt like want.

He let go of you and you pulled away, stumbling backwards. A hand grasped your arm, stopping you from tumbling to the ground. 

He propped you up, gently leaning you against the wall so you could support yourself, hovering next to you to make sure you wouldn’t collapse again. 

“There you go, easy does it.”

He left you to catch your breath and sort through the flurry of sensations and you leaned against the wall, catching your breath as you took in your surroundings. 

Hell was cozier than you ever could have imagined. There were soft pillows and blankets scattered across the floor and you wanted nothing more than to curl up on one and fall asleep forever. 

Everything was bright and colorful, the floors and walls covered in deep, rich shades. It was an assault on your senses. You were practically certain that Lucien was the only thing in the room that came in a shade of gray. 

The colors were muted only by the lighting. It was dark, with an ambient glow like it was coming from candles but there were none in sight. Every time you tried to trace the glow it led nowhere, just drifting through the air as it pleased. It wasn’t dark enough that you couldn’t see properly but just dim enough that it made the room feel even cozier.

The wall you were leaning against was draped in a tapestry covered in the depiction of a bright, setting sun. You were close enough that you could see every stitch, your head leaning against a bright orange. 

“What… why am I here?” you managed, not sure you had anything but questions in you right now.

“Didn’t have anywhere else to take you. I didn’t think you’d actually free me.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I noticed.”

“Do you want a tour?” he asked casually, like you weren’t experiencing the most confusing torrent of sensations that had even filled you.

You stared up at him incredulously. 

He rolled his eyes at your furrowed brow. “Don’t worry so much. Besides, if you faint the pillows will break your fall.”

Against all odds, that was mildly reassuring. No matter what happened, it did seem practically impossible to hurt yourself on anything in here. 

He hovered above you as you started to walk, making sure you wouldn’t immediately collapse. You managed to walk just fine, although every bone in your body was begging for you to just lie down right now and go to sleep. 

It was a quiet, small space, completely empty except for the two of you.

“Where’s everyone else?” you asked, your voice instinctively hushed so as not to disturb the peace. 

“They’re all out there, this place is mine. I would stay in here if I were you, other demons might be less nice to a strange little human invading their space.”

It probably should have registered sooner that this was his home. You weren’t sure where else you thought he’d taken you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You aren’t. Just stay put, okay?”

Amidst the sea of soft things was a little table covered in food. Not just any food, it appeared to be exclusively sweets, dozens and dozens of them. 

He presented it to you. “This is where I usually take humans,” he said. “You tend to respond well to it.”

You didn’t even reply, your instincts taking over as you sat by the table and immediately grabbed some chocolate, nothing more important to you than eating in that moment. 

He stood across from you, just watching.  “I’m shocked sloth didn’t get to you first, you really looked like you were nodding off there.”

You looked up from your food. “What?”

“You were staring at the pillows and you seemed like you might take a nap. This place, it encourages you to act on your desires. It isn’t strictly limited to the sins but those are the most common things you humans deprive yourselves of so they tend to pop up here. Most people get angry or self-absorbed or horny or fall asleep, you seemed like the sleepy kind.”

You half absorbed his explanation. At the very least it drew your attention away from the food and onto him. 

“You’re really pretty, have I told you that?” you asked as you stared up at him. 

“Maybe I was wrong, maybe you’re stopping by lust first.”

“No, not in a lust way, just in a look at you way. You seemed very convinced I’d be scared of you but like, you’re super pretty. Isn’t that a thing, demons being pretty? Lucifer was gorgeous from what I can remember, that’s part of the deal isn’t it.”

“I’m not pretty, I’m scary.”

“You’re not scary, you’re just big. Big and gray and also pretty. And your teeth! They're so big and sharp, I think about them more than I probably should.”

“Alright you need to get some rest, you’re getting a bit too honest.”

He couldn’t stop you fast enough. “Do you know who else is pretty?

He jumped in immediately. “Don’t say her name.” 

You giggled. “Right, you’re not supposed to know that. Sweet of you to warn me. My sweet demon. I think I’m growing on you. She’s gorgeous though, have you seen her? And she’s incredible and smart and talented. She’s literally perfect, have you noticed that?”

“Not how I would describe her,” he spat, his resentment clear in his tone. “Don’t you feel a little bitter towards her? I’ve seen how she treats you. Or at least jealous of how much better at magic she is than you are.”

You shook your head adamantly. “No, of course she’s better at it than me, she’s perfect. Weren’t you listening? Perfect perfect witch.”

Lucien groaned. “Alright, I don’t know if I can stomach this much longer. You should try and sleep this off, you’ll adjust faster if you just give into it for a bit.”

You fell backwards onto one of the many pillows strewn about, giggling as you went down. 

You managed to catch Lucien rolling his eyes playfully between fits of giggles before you were being swept across the floor, the pillow you were laying on being dragged over to Lucien in the corner. 

Being moved across the floor didn’t bother you. You snuggled into the red pillow as Lucien haphazardly tossed a blanket on top of you. The way it fell, it was just draped across your midsection but you were warm enough already that you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

As he moved to stand, you grabbed at him, trying to keep him with you. You knew you couldn’t actually hold him there but your sleep addled brain insisted you try.  

“You should stay,” you said.

“It could’ve been anger,” he bemoaned. “That would have been so much easier to deal with. Why couldn’t you just get angry?”

Despite his protests he didn’t pull away, settling down next to you as your grip remained firm on his arm. 

It only took a heartbeat to fall asleep, it overtaking you the second you gave yourself permission to drift off and fall into a restful, dreamless sleep

The first thing you felt when your mind left its fuzzy, exhausted state was embarrassment as your ramblings from the day before came flooding back to you. It wasn’t the most dignified you’d ever been but you supposed there were worse things you could have done than go on a compliment rampage. At least that’s what you tried to tell yourself to cull the tides of the self-consciousness. 

He was right, the sensations had settled down, or at least you’d gotten more used to them. They were still there, bubbling under the surface, making everything feel a little easier, but you felt like you could think properly. Like you were yourself again.

As your eyes cracked open you saw the same room you’d fallen asleep in. “I’m still here,” you muttered, the observation shattering the thought in the back of your head that perhaps this had all been an elaborate dream. You noticed Lucien looking down at you from beside you, your hand resting on his arm. “You’re still here,” you noted, somehow more surprised by him remaining next to you than by you still being tucked away in his little corner of hell. 

He tactfully ignored your second observation. “You’re stuck here until I get summoned again. I can’t go back to your little cabin otherwise, your witch’s warding made sure of that.”

You pulled your hand away from him but that didn’t stop his unblinking gaze. It almost felt like he was dissecting you. 

You stared back. He looked more lively here, his face brighter than it was in your world. He wasn’t on edge like he was when you usually saw him. This was his turf, it was your turn to be anxious and defensive. 

And yet you just weren’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to be, it felt too safe here for that.

“You’re harmless,” he muttered. “I can’t believe you’re really harmless.”

“I’m not harmless,” you responded playfully, wanting desperately to break the tension. “I’m so scary, the opposite of harmless.” You scrunched up your nose and barred your teeth in the closest approximation to scariness you were capable of. 

All he could do was laugh and watch as your thoughts drifted from your newfound scariness back to your supposed harmlessness. 

“What would the opposite of harmless even be?” You asked. “I’m… what, harmful? No, that's not right.”

Despite the lengthy nap, your brain still felt a little slow, trying to quietly convince you to drift right back off to sleep on the soft, plush pillows. It would be so easy, it was so warm in here, and it smelled nice too. Just a few more minutes and then you’d be well rested. That was all you needed. 

“Hell’s nice,” you noted as the room tried to lull you back to sleep. “It isn’t supposed to be nice, is it?”

“It’s not supposed to be anything, it just is. You shouldn’t be here anyways, it wasn’t made for you.”

“Then why did you take me here?”

“I told you, I didn’t have anywhere else to take you.”

“You could’ve left me,” you noted astutely. 

“It’s be a shame to lose a perfectly good ally” 

That didn’t sound right. “So I'm your ally now?”

”It’s starting to seem like it”

“Well thank you. For saving me. You really didn’t have to. I could be dead right now. Or worse than dead, and now I’m safe and warm and remarkably comfortable.”

“It was my turn to be a good host anyways.”

 You nodded solemnly. “Mmhmm, turntables and all that.”

“You’re really just sleepy, aren’t you?”

“Don’t say that like it’s weird. It’s not my fault you’ve built a house that’s basically just a big bed, I can’t help it.”

“Go back to sleep then.”

“No!” you insisted. “You’re actually answering my questions, I can’t stop now.”

“What more questions could you possibly have?”

“Plenty. For starters, why didn’t you let me say her name?” There were decidedly more poignant questions you could have asked but right now, that was the thing that made the least sense to you. 

“Okay, we’re done here.” He turned to leave, it apparently being a bridge too far for him.

“No, please don’t go, you were giving me so many answers! Please tell me,” you pleaded with him

“Just think of it as a thank you for opening up my summoning circle.”

“Was you saving me not my thank you?”

The question was genuine but he seemed stricken by it anyways. He looked down, avoiding your gaze. 

“Listen, I need to head out for a bit. I meant what I said, you need to stay put, okay? Just take another nap or something.”

“Eventually, I will stop being tired,” you countered, knowing you couldn’t just keep taking naps forever.

“One would think, and yet here you are.”

Your yawn did anything but help your argument. He seemed to take that as his cue to depart, leaving you behind with no one left to protest to and instead opting to just take one more nap. 

Apparently you’d been correct, eventually your body did stop prioritizing sleep in favor of other wants.

Thoughts you’d been pushing down started to tug at the corners of your mind, demanding your attention. Your thoughts drifted where they shouldn’t. To Eden, her soft hands and sharp words. To Lucien’s teeth and his broad frame and shockingly sweet demeanor for a demon that she’s freed from the prison she’d put him in.

It wasn’t the first time you’d woken up with thoughts like this but they were harder to push away here. You longed for your body to just beg for sleep again, that was a desire it was much easier to deliver on. 

No matter how hard you tried your mind continued to wander. Tossing and turning on the pillows did nothing to stop the desire that was bubbling up to the surface. 

Eventually it became too much to bear. Lucien was gone, it wasn’t like you’d be bothering anyone. 

Your hand snaked down under the waistband of your pants. Your amplified desire meant you were already soaking wet before you’d laid a finger on yourself. 

You knew it was the lust doing it, that normally you’d just force the thoughts away and pretend you’d never had an untoward thought about either of the only two people you cared about. 

The lust of this place didn’t come accompanied with the guilt that you were used to. 

Letting go felt good. It had been building up for too long, it needed a release and your body was determined to find one. 

Your fingers slipped inside easily. The two fingers curled up but they did nothing other than frustrate you. Your walls clenched and you wanted more, you wanted them. 

It smelled like him in here. It had been so hard to place earlier, just filling you with comfort, but now you couldn’t notice anything else. 

“Someone’s been busy.”

You practically jumped out of your skin as the sound of Lucien’s voice filled the room. You pulled your hand away from yourself, wedging your legs together in a desperate attempt to cling to some of your dignity. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you were here.”

He shook his head dismissively. “Don’t let me stop you.”

You hesitantly let your legs fall open once more, not wanting to let go of the feelings that had overtaken you. 

He broke eye contact with you as you did. “I’ll leave you to tire yourself out.”

You whined out, “No, stay. Please” 

He halted his retreat, remaining propped up in the doorway, his eyes refusing to wander from yours. Part of you couldn’t help but wish he’d look away, that there was something else he might want to see from you right now. 

You’d expected more smugness from him. Normally it radiated from him anytime you showed any signs of vulnerability and right now, you were more vulnerable than you’d even been. 

But there were no traces left of it on him, replaced by curiosity and interest and something that you just couldn’t place.

“Who are you thinking about?” he pressed, breaking the silence. “It’s not like you have many options.”

Any sense that would normally make you keep your mouth shut had long since abandoned you. “Both of you.”

“Both of us? Greedy. Your eyes might be bigger than your stomach, little one.”

Your fingers weren’t enough. You wanted more, wanted to be filled, wanted him. 

You whined out again.

“Why are you complaining?” he asked, some of that incessant smugness returning. “I’m doing what you asked, I’m staying.”

You both knew what you wanted but he was going to make you say it. You couldn’t even bring yourself to be annoyed with him for it. 

“Ask nicely,” he goaded. 

“Please touch me.”

He didn’t make you ask twice, sinking down to your side and gently moving your hand away. 

The anticipation was burning through you as his hand rested on your stomach, slowly drifting down as if he wanted to let you get accustomed to his touch first.

His hand drifted even further down, his thumb caressing the inside of your clothed thigh as he stared down at you. Your breath caught in your throat as he finally touched you, his hand slipping into your pants and meeting the wetness that was seeping out of you. 

He slowly thrust one finger inside of you and you already felt filled, more than your fingers could ever fill you. The rough palm of his hand rubbed against your clit as his finger dove deeper inside of you and you bucked up in search of more friction. 

You went to move your hand back down instinctually and he pulled it back up immeidately, grabbing both of your wrists and pinning them above your head with his unoccupied hand. 

“You asked for my help, let me take care of you,” he insisted.

His eyes raked up and down your form as you lay writhing beneath him. 

“You are a pretty little thing, aren’t you. You should have freed me sooner, I would’ve been more convincing if I knew this was what you wanted. Just a little nap and for me to fuck you into the ground, is that right?”

A strained, “please” escaped you and he just chuckled. 

“Maybe some other time. For right now let’s just focus on you. Come for me, I know you want to.”

His thumb rubbed up and down your pinned wrists, as if trying to soothe you while you pushed your hips up into his hand. It was comforting, giving you something to focus on as he worked you over, his finger curling up while his thumb rubbed over your clit. 

Your walls clamped down around his finger as a pressure began to build up in your core. His movements on your clit stayed steady as he thrusted his finger in and out of you. 

You could feel your heart pounding in your ears, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as you reached your peak. More whines escaped you as your hips pushed up, entirely overwhelmed and yet still pleading for more. 

White hot pleasure raced through you, all that tension unwinding with a snap. He remained steady, working you patiently through your orgasm. 

It felt like it lasted an eternity, wave after wave of repressed need being released all at once. 

You were panting as you came down, your limbs feeling as if they were made of lead. You didn’t think you could stand up even if you needed to. 

Lucien pulled out of you as you lay there, recovering. He pulled his middle finger up to his mouth and you watched it, slick with your juices, pass right by his lips. His focus had finally shifted from your form, eyes shut as he tasted you. 

He wasn’t putting on a show for you like he normally did, like it was more for his sake than for yours. 

This place refused to let you stop wanting and before you knew it you were asking more of him. 

“Can you stay?” you asked once more, desperate in an entirely different way and trying not to let it seep into your words quite as much this time. 

He complied, lying next to you on top of the soft pillows that you were certain had seen far worse things than this.

You were more aware of how this place affected you now but you still could barely stop yourself from just speaking. That’s all hell really was, it seemed. Not torture and misery but confessions and honestly, real honesty.

“Thank you for staying.”

“You didn’t need to ask, I wouldn’t have left you.”

A little voice in the back of your head swore that couldn’t be true, that he was just saying it for your sake, and you were too tired to counter it. “Oh. Well, thank you anyways.”

“You know what? I didn’t think it was possible to hate your witch any more but after getting to know you I think I’ve managed it. You’re too used to being alone, it isn’t right.”

“You’re too hard on her.”

“You’re not hard enough on her. She’s isolated you completely, you can’t honestly tell me it doesn’t make you angry.”

You weren’t sure why he could seem to understand it, incapable of wrapping his head around your feelings for her when he was so good at reading you in practically every other way. “No. It makes me feel very very alone but it doesn’t make me angry. She does what she has to, I’m lucky I even have her. I don’t think I’d mind it so much if someone actually wanted me.”

“I’m sure you’re wanted.”

“I’m not. I don’t even think E- my witch wants me but at least she lets me stick around and takes care of me.”

He graciously let the near slip of Eden’s name pass by once more, instead opting to focus on what you’d said. “That’s why you keep summoning me.”

“Mmhmm. I told you that, not my fault if you didn’t believe me.”

“The lonely little apprentice. I should give your witch a piece of my mind, it’s inhumane to keep you in these conditions.”

You snorted. “I’m not her pet.”

“I think someone should tell her that.”

Despite the tone of his questions, you couldn’t help but miss her the more you talked about her. “How long do you think I’ll be here?”

He shrugged. “I suppose that just depends on when your witch gets back. Broken summoning circle on the floor, her little apprentice gone, it doesn’t take much to figure out what happened.”

It was a horrifying scene to imagine. You couldn’t even bring yourself to be worried about how upset she would be at you, the image of Eden walking into an empty house with a broken summoning circle on the floor and whatever else had been done to your home was all you could think about. 

“What if the people who were trying to break in are still there?” You hadn’t even considered the fact that they might hurt her when she got back. Guilt flooded through you as you thought about how carefree and happy you’d been while she could be in real danger. 

You felt his chest raise in a sigh beside you. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

His frustration at your concern for her was understandable but discouraging nonetheless. 

He’d started to connect with you but there was nothing you could do about the two of them. Your two favorite people, your two only people, forever at odds. 

He gently nudged you out of your thoughts, pulling your chin up to make you look at him. “You can overthink later. Sleep now while you’re here, while it’s easy. Who knows, maybe you won’t sleep for a full day this time.”

“Did I really sleep for that long?” you asked, barely fighting off a yawn.

“You did. It’s alright though, don’t worry, I’ll wake you up if you need to be up.”

You began to drift off, sleep coming quickly to you once more. 

You weren’t worried about anything. You believed him.

[physalian]

8 Signs your Sequel Needs Work

Sequels, and followup seasons to TV shows, can be very tricky to get right. Most of the time, especially with the onslaught of sequels, remakes, and remake-quels over the past… 15 years? There’s a few stand-outs for sure. I hear Dune Part 2 stuck the landing. Everyone who likes John Wick also likes those sequels. Spiderverse 2 also stuck the landing.

These are less tips and more fundamental pieces of your story that may or may not factor in because every work is different, and this is coming from an audience’s perspective. Maybe some of these will be the flaws you just couldn’t put your finger on before. And, of course, these are all my opinions, for sequels and later seasons that just didn’t work for me.

1. Your vague lore becomes a gimmick

The Force, this mysterious entity that needs no further explanation… is now quantifiable with midichlorians.

In The 100, the little chip that contains the “reincarnation” of the Commanders is now the central plot to their season 6 “invasion of the bodysnatchers” villains.

In The Vampire Diaries, the existence of the “emotion switch” is explicitly disputed as even existing in the earlier seasons, then becomes a very real and physical plot point one can toggle on and off.

I love hard magic systems. I love soft magic systems, too. These two are not evolutions of each other and doing so will ruin your magic system. People fell in love with the hard magic because they liked the rules, the rules made sense, and everything you wrote fit within those rules. Don’t get wacky and suddenly start inventing new rules that break your old ones.

People fell in love with the soft magic because it needed no rules, the magic made sense without overtaking the story or creating plot holes for why it didn’t just save the day. Don’t give your audience everything they never needed to know and impose limitations that didn’t need to be there.

Solving the mystery will never be as satisfying as whatever the reader came up with in their mind. Satisfaction is the death of desire.

2. The established theme becomes un-established

I talked about this point already in this post about theme so the abridged version here: If your story has major themes you’ve set out to explore, like “the dichotomy of good and evil” and you abandon that theme either for a contradictory one, or no theme at all, your sequel will feel less polished and meaningful than its predecessor, because the new story doesn’t have as much (if anything) to say, while the original did.

Jurassic Park is a fantastic, stellar example. First movie is about the folly of human arrogance and the inherent disaster and hubris in thinking one can control forces of nature for superficial gains. The sequels, and then sequel series, never returns to this theme (and also stops remembering that dinosaurs are animals, not generic movie monsters). JP wasn’t just scary because ahhh big scary reptiles. JP was scary because the story is an easily preventable tragedy, and yes the dinosaurs are eating people, but the people only have other people to blame. Dinosaurs are just hungry, frightened animals.

Or, the most obvious example in Pixar’s history: Cars to Cars 2.

3. You focus on the wrong elements based on ‘fan feedback’

We love fans. Fans make us money. Fans do not know what they want out of a sequel. Fans will never know what they want out of a sequel, nor will studios know how to interpret those wants. Ask Star Wars. Heck, ask the last 8 books out of the Percy Jackson universe.

Going back to Cars 2 (and why I loathe the concept of comedic relief characters, truly), Disney saw dollar signs with how popular Mater was, so, logically, they gave fans more Mater. They gave us more car gimmicks, they expanded the lore that no one asked for. They did try to give us new pretty racing venues and new cool characters. The writers really did try, but some random Suit decided a car spy thriller was better and this is what we got.

The elements your sequel focuses on could be points 1 or 2, based on reception. If your audience universally hates a character for legitimate reasons, maybe listen, but if your audience is at war with itself over superficial BS like whether or not she’s a female character, or POC, ignore them and write the character you set out to write. Maybe their arc wasn’t finished yet, and they had a really cool story that never got told.

This could be side-characters, or a specific location/pocket of worldbuilding that really resonated, a romantic subplot, whatever. Point is, careening off your plan without considering the consequences doesn’t usually end well.

4. You don’t focus on the ‘right’ elements

I don’t think anyone out there will happily sit down and enjoy the entirety of Thor: The Dark World.  The only reasons I would watch that movie now are because a couple of the jokes are funny, and the whole bit in the middle with Thor and Loki. Why wasn’t this the whole movie? No one cares about the lore, but people really loved Loki, especially when there wasn’t much about him in the MCU at the time, and taking a villain fresh off his big hit with the first Avengers and throwing him in a reluctant “enemy of my enemy” plot for this entire movie would have been amazing.

Loki also refuses to stay dead because he’s too popular, thus we get a cyclical and frustrating arc where he only has development when the producers demand so they can make maximum profit off his character, but back then, in phase 2 world, the mystery around Loki was what made him so compelling and the drama around those two on screen was really good! They bounced so well off each other, they both had very different strengths and perspectives, both had real grievances to air, and in that movie, they *both* lost their mother. It’s not even that it’s a bad sequel, it’s just a plain bad movie.

The movie exists to keep establishing the Infinity Stones with the red one and I can’t remember what the red one does at this point, but it could have so easily done both. The powers that be should have known their strongest elements were Thor and Loki and their relationship, and run with it.

This isn’t “give into the demands of fans who want more Loki” it’s being smart enough to look at your own work and suss out what you think the most intriguing elements are and which have the most room and potential to grow (and also test audiences and beta readers to tell you the ugly truth). Sequels should feel more like natural continuations of the original story, not shameless cash grabs.

5. You walk back character development for ~drama~

As in, characters who got together at the end of book 1 suddenly start fighting because the “will they/won’t they” was the juiciest dynamic of their relationship and you don’t know how to write a compelling, happy couple. Or a character who overcame their snobbery, cowardice, grizzled nature, or phobia suddenly has it again because, again, that was the most compelling part of their character and you don’t know who they are without it.

To be honest, yeah, the buildup of a relationship does tend to be more entertaining in media, but that’s also because solid, respectful, healthy relationships in media are a rarity. Season 1 of Outlander remains the best, in part because of the rapid growth of the main love interest’s relationship. Every season after, they’re already married, already together, and occasionally dealing with baby shenanigans, and it’s them against the world and, yeah, I got bored.

There’s just so much you can do with a freshly established relationship: Those two are a *team* now. The drama and intrigue no longer comes from them against each other, it’s them together against a new antagonist and their different approaches to solving a problem. They can and should still have distinct personalities and perspectives on whatever story you throw them into.

6. It’s the same exact story, just Bigger

I have been sitting on a “how to scale power” post for months now because I’m still not sure on reception but here’s a little bit on what I mean.

Original: Oh no, the big bad guy wants to destroy New York

Sequel: Oh no, the big bad guy wants to destroy the planet

Threequel: Oh no, the big bad guy wants to destroy the galaxy

You knew it wasn’t going to happen the first time, you absolutely know it won’t happen on a bigger scale. Usually, when this happens, plot holes abound. You end up deleting or forgetting about characters’ convenient powers and abilities, deleting or forgetting about established relationships and new ground gained with side characters and entities, and deleting or forgetting about stakes, themes, and actually growing your characters like this isn’t the exact same story, just Bigger.

How many Bond movies are there? Thirty-something? I know some are very, very good and some are not at all good. They’re all Bond movies. People keep watching them because they’re formulaic, but there’s also been seven Bond actors and the movies aren’t one long, continuous, self-referential story about this poor, poor man who has the worst luck in the universe. These sequels aren’t “this but bigger” it’s usually “this, but different”, which is almost always better.

“This, but different now” will demand a different skillset from your hero, different rules to play by, different expectations, and different stakes. It does not just demand your hero learn to punch harder.

Example: Lord Shen from Kung Fu Panda 2 does have more influence than Tai Lung, yes. He’s got a whole city and his backstory is further-reaching, but he’s objectively worse in close combat—so he doesn’t fistfight Po. He has cannons, very dangerous cannons, cannons designed to be so strong that kung fu doesn’t matter. Thus, he’s not necessarily “bigger” he’s just “different” and his whole story demands new perspective.

The differences between Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi are numerous, but the latter relies on “but bigger” and the former went in a whole new direction, while still staying faithful to the themes of the original.

7. It undermines the original by awakening a new problem too soon

I’ve already complained about the mere existence of Heroes of Olympus elsewhere because everything Luke fought and died for only bought that world about a month of peace before the gods came and ripped it all away for More Story.

I’ve also complained that the Star Wars Sequels were always going to spit in the face of a character’s six-movie legacy to bring balance to the Force by just going… nah. Ancient prophecy? Only bought us about 30 years of peace.

Whether it’s too soon, or it’s too closely related to the original, your audience is going to feel a little put-off when they realize how inconsequential this sequel makes the original, particularly in TV shows that run too many seasons and can’t keep upping the ante, like Supernatural.

Kung Fu Panda once again because these two movies are amazing. Shen is completely unrelated to Tai Lung. He’s not threatening the Valley of Peace or Shifu or Oogway or anything the heroes fought for in the original. He’s brand new.

My yearning to see these two on screen together to just watch them verbally spat over both being bratty children disappointed by their parents is unquantifiable. This movie is a damn near perfect sequel. Somebody write me fanfic with these two throwing hands over their drastically different perspectives on kung fu.

8. It’s so divorced from the original that it can barely even be called a sequel

Otherwise known as seasons 5 and 6 of Lost. Otherwise known as: This show was on a sci-fi trajectory and something catastrophic happened to cause a dramatic hairpin turn off that path and into pseudo-biblical territory. Why did it all end in a church? I’m not joking, they did actually abandon The Plan while in a mach 1 nosedive.

I also have a post I’ve been sitting on about how to handle faith in fiction, so I’ll say this: The premise of Lost was the trials and escapades of a group of 48 strangers trying to survive and find rescue off a mysterious island with some creepy, sciency shenanigans going on once they discover that the island isn’t actually uninhabited.

Season 6 is about finding “candidates” to replace the island’s Discount Jesus who serves as the ambassador-protector of the island, who is also immortal until he’s not, and the island becomes a kind of purgatory where they all actually did die in the crash and were just waiting to… die again and go to heaven. Spoiler Alert.

This is also otherwise known as: Oh sh*t, Warner Bros wants more Supernatural? But we wrapped it up so nicely with Sam and Adam in the box with Lucifer. I tried to watch one of those YouTube compilations of Cas’ funny moments because I haven’t seen every episode, and the misery on these actors’ faces as the compilation advanced through the seasons, all the joy and wit sucked from their performances, was just tragic.

I get it. Writers can’t control when the Powers That Be demand More Story so they can run their workhorse into the ground until it stops bleeding money, but if you aren’t controlled by said powers, either take it all back to basics, like Cars 3, or just stop.

—

Sometimes taking your established characters and throwing them into a completely unrecognizable story works, but those unrecongizable stories work that much harder to at least keep the characters' development and progression satisfying and familiar. See this post about timeskips that take generational gaps between the original and the sequel, and still deliver on a satisfying continuation.

TLDR: Sequels are hard and it’s never just one detail that makes them difficult to pull off. They will always be compared to their predecessors, always with the expectations to be as good as or surpass the original, when the original had no such competition. There’s also audience expectations for how they think the story, lore, and relationships should progress. Most faults of sequels, in my opinion, lie in straying too far from the fundamentals of the original without understanding why those fundamentals were so important to the original’s success.